Death Is The End Of Every Worldly

Remember In The Forms Of Speech Comes Change Within A Thousand Years, And Words That Then Were Well Esteemed, Seem Foolish Now And Strange; And Yet They Spake Them So, Time And Again, And Thrived In Love As Well As Any Men; And So To Win Their Loves In Sundry Days, In Sundry Lands There Are As Many Ways.

But Manly Set The World On Sixe And Sevene; And, If Thou Deye A Martir, Go To Hevene.

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

Soun Is Noght But Air Ybroken, And Every Speche That Is Spoken, Loud Or Privee, Foul Or Fair, In His Substaunce Is But Air; For As Flaumbe Is But Lighted Smoke, Right So Soun Is Air Ybroke.

What's Said Is Said And Goes Upon Its Way Like It Or Not, Repent It As You May.