London, thou art the flower of cities all! Gemme of all joy, jasper of jocunditie.

I that in heill wes and gladnes Am trublit now with gret seiknes And feblit with infermite: Timor Mortis conturbat me.* * Fear of Death troubles me.

All love is lost but upon God alone.

Timor mortis conturbat me. The fear of death disturbs me.

London, thou art the flower of cities all! Gemme of all joy, jasper of jocunditie.

Gem of all joy, jasper of jocundity.

Your law may be perfect, your knowledge of human affairs may be such as to enable you to apply it with wisdom and skill, and yet without individual acquaintance with men, their haunts and habits, the pursuit of the profession becomes difficult, slow, and expensive.