That He Is Gentil That Doth Gentil

That Of All The Floures In The Mede, Thanne Love I Most These Floures White And Rede, Suche As Men Callen Daysyes In Her Toune.

Who Then May Trust The Dice, At Fortune's Throw?

The Greatest Scholars Are Not Usually The Wisest People.

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!

Mordre Wol Out, That Se We Day By Day.