And For To See, And Eek For

Hyt Is Not Al Golde That Glareth.

Certain, When I Was Born, So Long Ago, Death Drew The Tap Of Life And Let It Flow; And Ever Since The Tap Has Done Its Task, And Now There's Little But An Empty Cask.

That Field Hath Eyen, And The Wood Hath Ears.

Yet In Our Ashen Cold Is Fire Yreken.

Loke Who That Is Most Vertuous Alway, Prive And Apert, And Most Entendeth Ay To Do The Gentil Dedes That He Can, And Take Him For The Gretest Gentilman.