Oon Ere It Herde, At

He Who Accepts His Poverty Unhurt I'd Say Is Rich Although He Lacked A Shirt. But Truly Poor Are They Who Whine And Fret And Covet What They Cannot Hope To Get.

Right As An Aspen Lefe She Gan To Quake.

Ther Nis No Werkman, Whatsoevere He Be, That May Bothe Werke Wel And Hastily.

Love Will Not Be Constrain'd By Mastery. When Mast'ry Comes, The God Of Love Anon Beateth His Wings, And, Farewell, He Is Gone. Love Is A Thing As Any Spirit Free.

A Yokel Mind Loves Stories From Of Old, Being The Kind It Can Repeat And Hold.