So Was Hir Jolly Whistel

Every Honest Miller Has A Golden Thumb.

Drunkenness Is The Very Sepulcher Of Man's Wit And His Discretion.

There's No Workman, Whatsoever He Be, That May Both Work Well And Hastily.

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!

For I Have Seyn Of A Ful Misty Morwe Folowen Ful Ofte A Myrie Someris Day.