She Is Nether Fish Nor

The Grey Mare Is The Better Horse.

And While I At Length Debate And Beate The Bush, There Shall Steppe In Other Men And Catch The Burdes.

What A Time Herbs And Weeds, And Such Things Could Talk, A Man In His Garden One Day Did Walk, Spying A Nettle Green (as Th'emeraude) Spread In A Bed Of Roses Like The Ruby Red. Between Which Two Colors He Thought, But His Eye, The Green Nettle Did The Red Rose Beautify. "how Be It," He Asked The Nettle, "what Thing Made Him So Pert? So Nigh The Rose To Spring.

The Tide Tarrieth No Man.

A Man May Well Bring A Horse To Water But He Cannot Make Him Drink.