When a daffadill I see, Hanging down his head towards me, Guess I may, what I must be: First, I shall decline my head; Secondly, I shall be dead: Lastly, safely buryed.

Thus times do shift, each thing his turn does hold; New things succeed, as former things grow old.

But ne'er the rose without the thorn.

I do love I know not what; Sometimes this, and sometimes that.

When a daffadill I see, Hanging down his head towards me, Guess I may, what I must be: First, I shall decline my head; Secondly, I shall be dead: Lastly, safely buryed.

Know when to speak - for many times it brings danger, to give the best advice to kings.

In things a moderation keep; Kings ought to shear, not skin, their sheep.