Much can they praise the trees so straight and high, The sailing pine,the cedar proud and tall, The vine-prop elm, the poplar never dry, The builder oak, sole king of forests all, The aspin good for staves, the cypress funeral, The laurel, meed of mighty conquerors And poets sage, the fir that weepest still, The yew obedient to the bender's will, The birch for shafts, the sallow for the mill, The myrrh sweet-bleeding in the bitter wound, The warlike beech, the ash for nothing ill, The fruitful olive, and the platane round, The carver holm, the maple seldom inward sound.

Oft stumbles at a straw.

Vaine is the vaunt, and victory unjust, that more to mighty hands, then rightfull cause doth trust.

Rising glory occasions the greatest envy, as kindling fire the greatest smoke.

Fresh spring the herald of love's mighty king.

For evil deeds may better than bad words be borne.

Entire affection hateth nicer hands.