A barking dog
And a harlot’s grief,
88. An early-sown field,
Let no one trust,
Nor prematurely in a son:
Weather rules the field,
And wit the son,
Each of which is doubtful.
89. A brother’s murderer,
Though on the high-road met,
A barking dog
And a harlot’s grief,
88. An early-sown field,
Let no one trust,
Nor prematurely in a son:
Weather rules the field,
And wit the son,
Each of which is doubtful.
89. A brother’s murderer,
Though on the high-road met,