Or As An Ook Comth Of A

. . . If Gold Rust, What Then Will Iron Do?/ For If A Priest Be Foul In Whom We Trust/ No Wonder That A Common Man Should Rust. . . .

For Oute Of Olde Feldys, As Men Sey, Comyth Al This Newe Corn From Yer To Yere; And Out Of Olde Bokis, In Good Fey, Comyth Al This Newe Science That Men Lere.

And She Was Fair As Is The Rose In May.

Til That The Brighte Sonne Loste His Hewe; For Th'orisonte Hath Reft The Sonne His Lyght; This Is As Muche To Seye As It Was Nyght!

This Flour Of Wifly Patience.