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John Lydgate
Quote #12
There is no rose Spryngyng in gardeyns, but ther be sum thorn.
More from John Lydgate
Off oure language he was the lodesterre.
For princis ofte, of furious hastynesse, Wil cachche a quarrel, causeless in sentence, Ageyn folk absent, thouh ther be non offence.
For a story which is nat pleynli told, But constreynyd undir woordes fewe For lak off trouthe, wher thei be newe or olde, Men bi report kan…
He as a kyng is crowned in Fairie, With sceptre and suerd, & with his regalie Shal resorte as lord and souereyne, Out of Fairye & regne in …
Trouthe wil out maugre of fals enuye, Rihtwysnesse may nat ben hid certeyn, As for a tyme it may been ovirleyn.
The wheel of Fortune tourneth as a ball; Sodeyn clymbyng axeth a sodeyn fall.
Harde to likke hony out of a marbil stoon, For ther is nouthir licour nor moisture.
For hit ys oft seyde by hem that yet lyues He must nedys go that the deuell dryues.
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