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.

A circle cannot fill a triangle, so neither can the whole world, if it were to be compassed, the heart of man; a man may as easily fill a chest with grace as the heart with gold. The air fills not the body, neither doth money the covetous mind of man.

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.

In one consort there sat cruel revenge and rancorous despite, disloyal treason and heart-burning hate.

All that in this delightful garden grows should happy be and have immortal bliss.

The fish once caught, new bait will hardly bite.

For evil deeds may better than bad words be borne.