Small Herbs Have Grace, Great Weeds Do

Therefore Was I Created With A Stubborn Outside, With An Aspect Of Iron, That When I Come To Woo Ladies, I Fright Them. But, In Faith, Kate, The Elder I Wax, The Better I Shall Appear. My Comfort Is That Old Age, That Ill Layer-up Of Beauty, Can Do No More Spoil Upon My Face. Thou Hast Me, If Thou Hast Me, At The Worst, And Thou Shalt Wear Me, If Thou Wear Me, Better And Better.

But Fish Not With This Melancholy Bait For This Fool Gudgeon, This Opinion.

Now 'tis Spring, And Weeds Are Shallow-rooted; Suffer Them Now And They'll O'ergrow The Garden.

When Workmen Strive To Do Better Than Well, They Do Confound Their Skill In Covetousness.

As Full Of Spirit As The Month Of May, And As Gorgeous As The Sun In Midsummer.