Ful Wys Is He That

I Am Not The Rose, But I Have Lived Near The Rose.

Who Then May Trust The Dice, At Fortune's Throw?

Great Peace Is Found In Little Busy-ness.

. . . 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. . . .

Fie On Possession, But If A Man Be Vertuous Withal.