Right As An Aspen Lefe She Gan

Oon Ere It Herde, At Tother Out It Went.

By Nature, Men Love Newfangledness.

Love Will Not Be Constrain'd By Mastery. When Mast'ry Comes, The God Of Love Anon Beateth His Wings, And, Farewell, He Is Gone. Love Is A Thing As Any Spirit Free.

There's Never A New Fashion But It's Old.

Felds Hath Eyen, And Wode Have Eres.