'Tis all in vain to keep a constant pother
About one vice and fall into another.

'Tis all in vain to keep a constant pother
About one vice and fall into another.

It's an ill aire where wee gaine nothing.

It's an ill aire where wee gaine nothing.

And there is a worm in the lonely wood,
That pierces the liver and blackens the blood,
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And there is a worm in the lonely wood,
That pierces the liver and blackens the blood,
And makes it a sorrow to be.

It takes two to make a quarrel.

It takes two to make a quarrel.

She nourishes the poison in her veins and is consumed by a secret
fire.

She nourishes the poison in her veins and is consumed by a secret
fire.

Whatsoever was the father of a disease, an ill dyet was the
mother.

Whatsoever was the father of a disease, an ill dyet was the
mother.

It's a poore stake that cannot stand one yeare in the ground.

It's a poore stake that cannot stand one yeare in the ground.

No greater grief than to remember days
Of joy when misery is at hand.

No greater grief than to remember days
Of joy when misery is at hand.

Goods are theirs that enjoy them.

Goods are theirs that enjoy them.