Quote #15
The wolfe from the dore.
More from John Skelton
- By hoke ne by croke.
- He knew what is what.
- In the spight of his teeth.
- For though my ryme be ragged, Tattered and jagged, Rudely rayne beaten, Rusty and moughte eaten, It hath in it some pyth.
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- When I remember again How my Philip was slain, Never half the pain Was between you twain, Pyramus and Thisbe, As then befell to me. I wept …
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