That He Is Gentil That

Yblessed Be God That I Have Wedded Fyve! Welcome The Sixte, Whan That Evere He Shal.

For In Their Hearts Doth Nature Stir Them So Then People Long On Pilgrimage To Go And Palmers To Be Seeking Foreign Strands To Distant Shrines Renowned In Sundry Lands.

Murder Will Out, This My Conclusion.

It Is Nought Good A Sleping Hound To Wake.

A Love Grown Old Is Not The Love Once New.