The good mother sayes not, Will you? but gives.

Great trees are good for nothing but shade.

Enrich my heart, mouth, hands in me, With faith, with hope, with charity, That I may run, rise, rest with Thee.

The corne hides it self in the snow, as an old man in furrs.

Much spends the traveller, more then the abider.

An Oxe is taken by the horns, and a Man by the tongue.

Farre shooting never kild bird.