To his tuned spirit the wild heather-bells
Ring Sabbath knells;
The sod's a cushion for his pious read more

To his tuned spirit the wild heather-bells
Ring Sabbath knells;
The sod's a cushion for his pious want,
And, consecrated by the heaven within it,
The sky-blue pool a font.

Every one hath a foole in his sleeve.

Every one hath a foole in his sleeve.

The man that heweth over high,
Some chip falleth in his eye.

The man that heweth over high,
Some chip falleth in his eye.

Let him who has once perceived how much that, which has been
discarded, excels that which he has longed read more

Let him who has once perceived how much that, which has been
discarded, excels that which he has longed for, return at once,
and seek again that which he despised.

Evils have their comfort, good none can support.

Evils have their comfort, good none can support.

Weeds are shallow-rooted,
Suffer them now, and they'll o'ergrow the garden,
And choke the herbs for want read more

Weeds are shallow-rooted,
Suffer them now, and they'll o'ergrow the garden,
And choke the herbs for want of husbandry.

Wind puffs up empty bladders; opinion, fools.

Wind puffs up empty bladders; opinion, fools.

A simple maiden in her flower
Is worth a hundred coats of arms.

A simple maiden in her flower
Is worth a hundred coats of arms.

It's better to be head of a Lyzard, then the tayle of a Lyon.

It's better to be head of a Lyzard, then the tayle of a Lyon.