Their fabric is so thin that I can see through these curtains.

O Fearefull frowning NEMESIS, Daughter of IVSTICE, most seuere, That art the worlds great Arbitresse, And Queene of causes raigning heere.

The bell ropes hang from the outside of the tower, the resultant friction of the ropes over the brick sides producing irresolute sharpings or flattings of the notes.

Bedabbled with the dew, and torn with briers, I can no further crawl, no further go.