I Am Not The Rose,

For Tyme Ylost May Nought Recovered Be.

Full Wise Is He That Can Himselven Knowe.

Remember In The Forms Of Speech Comes Change Within A Thousand Years, And Words That Then Were Well Esteemed, Seem Foolish Now And Strange; And Yet They Spake Them So, Time And Again, And Thrived In Love As Well As Any Men; And So To Win Their Loves In Sundry Days, In Sundry Lands There Are As Many Ways.

Make A Virtue Of Necessity.

And So It Is In Politics, Dear Brother, Each For Himself Alone, There Is No Other.