In the house of a Fidler, all fiddle.

In the house of a Fidler, all fiddle.

But time strips our illusions of their hue,
And one by one in turn some grand mistake
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But time strips our illusions of their hue,
And one by one in turn some grand mistake
Casts off its bright skin yearly like a snake.

He that plaies his mony ought not to value it.

He that plaies his mony ought not to value it.

The child is father of the man.

The child is father of the man.

My hair is grey, but not with years.

My hair is grey, but not with years.

What's gone, and what's past help,
Should be past grieve.

What's gone, and what's past help,
Should be past grieve.

Helpe thy selfe, and God will helpe thee.

Helpe thy selfe, and God will helpe thee.

Hath not thy rose a canker, Somerset?
Hath not thy rose a thorn, Plantagenet?

Hath not thy rose a canker, Somerset?
Hath not thy rose a thorn, Plantagenet?

The next way home's the farthest way about.

The next way home's the farthest way about.