The fish once caught, new bait will hardly bite.
But times do change and move continually.
It often falls, in course of common life, that right long time is overborne of wrong.
And through the hall there walked to and fro A jolly yeoman, marshall of the same, Whose name was Appetite; he did bestow Both guestes and meate, whenever in they came, And knew them how to order without blame.
All for love, and nothing for reward.
No daintie flowre or herbe that growes on grownd, No arborett with painted blossoms drest And smelling sweete, but there it might be fownd To bud out faire, and throwe her sweete smels al arownd.