Worship be to the Graces! Who do from sowre faces, And lungs that wo'd infect me, For evermore protect me.
Sweet is the rose, but grows upon a brere; Sweet is the juniper, but sharp his bough; Sweet is the eglantine, but sticketh nere; Sweet is the firbloome, but its braunches rough; Sweet is the cypress, but its rynd is tough; Sweet is the nut, tut bitter is bis pill; Sweet is the broome-flowre, but yet sowre enough; And sweet is moly, but his root is ill.Edmund Spenser
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