The life so brief, the art so long in the learning, the attempt so hard, the conquest so sharp, the fearful joy that ever slips away so quickly - by all this I mean love, which so sorely astounds my feeling with its wondrous operation, that when I think upon it I scarce know whether I wake or sleep.

Take a cat, nourish it well with milk and tender meat, make it a couch of silk.

Ther nis no werkman, whatsoevere he be, That may bothe werke wel and hastily.

Felds hath eyen, and wode have eres.

Whoso will pray, he must fast and be clean, And fat his soul, and make his body lean.

Purity in body and heart May please some--as for me, I make no boast. For, as you know, no master of a household Has all of his utensils made of gold; Some are wood, and yet they are of use.

It is nought good a sleping hound to wake.