So on the tip of his subduing tongue
All kinds of arguments and question deep,
All replication read more

So on the tip of his subduing tongue
All kinds of arguments and question deep,
All replication prompt and reason strong,
For his advantage still did wake and sleep.
To make the weeper laugh, the laugher weep,
He had the dialect and different skill,
Catching all passions in his craft of will; . . .

The stroke of the tongue breaketh the bones. Many have fallen by
the edge of the sword; but not read more

The stroke of the tongue breaketh the bones. Many have fallen by
the edge of the sword; but not so many as have fallen by the
tongue.

Keep thy tongue from evil, and thy lips from speaking guile.

Keep thy tongue from evil, and thy lips from speaking guile.

He rolls it under his tongue as a sweet morsel.

He rolls it under his tongue as a sweet morsel.

The first vertue, sone, if thou wilt lerne,
Is to restreyne and kepen wel thy tonge.

The first vertue, sone, if thou wilt lerne,
Is to restreyne and kepen wel thy tonge.

Since word is thrall, and thought is free,
Keep well thy tongue, I counsel thee.

Since word is thrall, and thought is free,
Keep well thy tongue, I counsel thee.

The language I have learnt these forty years,
My native English, now I must forgo;
And now read more

The language I have learnt these forty years,
My native English, now I must forgo;
And now my tongue's use is to me no more
Than an unstringed viol or a harp,
Or like a cunning instrument cased up
Or, being open, put into his hands
That knows no touch to tune the harmony.

Though wickedness be sweet in his mouth, though he hide it under
his tongue;
Though he spare it, read more

Though wickedness be sweet in his mouth, though he hide it under
his tongue;
Though he spare it, and forsake it not; but keep it still within
his mouth:
Yet his meat in his bowels is turned, it is the gall of asps
within him.

All swol'n with chafing, down Adonis sits,
Banning his boist'rous and unruly beast;
And now the happy read more

All swol'n with chafing, down Adonis sits,
Banning his boist'rous and unruly beast;
And now the happy season once more fits
That lovesick Love by pleading may be blest;
For lovers say the heart hath treble wrong
When it is barred the aidance of the tongue.