Fair ladies masked are roses in their bud; Dismasked, their damask sweet commixture shewn Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown. Far from her nest the lapwing cries away. Falsehood, cowardice, and poor descent, Fly pride, says the peacock. False face must hide what the false heart doth know. Fierce extremes In their continuance will not feel themselves. Fell sorrow's tooth doth never rankle more Than when it bites, but lanceth not the sore. Friendly counsel cuts off many foes. Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all. Fearful commenting Is leaden servitor to dull delay. Fair fruit in an unwholesome dish Are like to rot untasted. Few words to fair faith. Faults that are rich are fair. Fools are not mad folks. Famine, Ere clean it o'erthrow nature, makes it valiant. Fortune brings in some boats that are not steer'd. Few love to hear the sins they love to act. Flattery is the bellows blows up sin; The thing the which is flatter'd, but a spark, To which that blast gives heat and stronger glowing. Fathers that wear rags Do make their children blind; Shall see their children kind. Full oft 'tis seen, Our mean secures us; and our mere defects Foul deeds will rise, Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes. Fruits that blossom first will first be ripe. Full oft we see Cold wisdom waiting on superfluous folly. |