My vegetable love should grow Vaster than empires, and more slow.

Casting the body's vest aside, My soul into the boughs does glide.

Ye country comets, that portend No war, nor prince's funeral, Shining unto no higher end Than to presage the grasses fall. . . .

Among the blind the one-eyed blinkard reigns

The world in all doth but two nations bear- The good, the bad; and these mixed everywhere.

I have a garden of my own, But so with roses overgrown, And lilies, that you would it guess To be a little wilderness.

Self-preservation, nature's first great law, all the creatures, except man, doth awe.