Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.
I profess not talking: only this, Let each man do his best.
Strikes deeper, grows with more pernicious root.
And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!
Where the bee sucks, there suck I In the cow-slip's bell i lie There I couch when owls do cry
Hung be the heavens with black! Yield, day, to night!