66 flora’s dial. 
JHap G. 
QUINCE. — Scornful Beauty . 
Oh mossie quince, hanging by your stalke, 
The which no man dare plucke away or take ! 
Of all the folke, that pass forth by, or walke, 
Your flowers fresh be fallen away and shake ! 
I am right sorry, mistress, for your sake, 
Ye seem a thing that ail men have forgotten ; 
Ye be so ripe, ye waxen almost rotten ! 
Chaucer. 1370. 
illap 7. 
PRIMROSE. — Inconstancy. 
Like as the rage of raine 
Fills rivers with excesse, 
And as the drought again 
Doth draw them less and less. — 
So I both fall and climb 
With no and yea, sometime. 1566. 
