For many a pasty have you robbed of blood, And many a Jack of Dover have you sold That has been heated twice and twice grown cold. From many a pilgrim have you had Christ's curse, For of your parsley they yet fare the worse, Which they have eaten with your stubble goose; For in your shop full many a fly is loose.

For tyme y-lost may not recovered be.

And gladly wolde he lerne, and gladly teche.

If were not foolish young, were foolish old.

My house is small, but you are learned men And by your arguments can make a place Twenty foot broad as infinite as space.

Many small make a great.

I gave my whole heart up, for him to hold.