232 
SHAKESPEARE’S GARDEN 
Cytherea, 
How bravely thou becom’st thy bed, fresh lily, 
And whiter than the sheets ! That I might touch ! 
But kiss; one kiss ! 
II. ii. 14. 
On her left breast 
A mole cinque-spotted, like the crimson drops 
I* the bottom of a cowslip : here’s a voucher, 
Stronger than ever law could make : this secret 
Will force him think I have pick’d the lock and ta’en 
The treasure of her honour. 
II. ii- 36 . 
Hark, hark ! the lark at heaven’s gate sings, 
And Phoebus ’gins arise, 
His steeds to water at those springs 
On chaliced flowers that lies; 
And winking Mary-buds begin 
To ope their golden eyes : 
With everything that pretty is, 
My lady sweet, arise, 
Arise, arise ! 
II. iii. 21. 
Perchance he spoke not, but, 
Like a full-acorn’d boar, a German one, 
Cried ' 1 O ! ” and mounted ; found no opposition 
But what he look’d for should oppose and she 
Should from encounter guard. 
II. v. 15. 
And let the stinking elder, grief, untwine, 
His perishing root with the increasing vine ! 
IV. ii. 59. 
They are so gentle 
As zephyrs blowing below the violet, 
Not wagging his sweet head ; 
IV. ii. 171. 
And yet as rough, 
Their royal blood enchafed, as the rudest wind, 
That by the top doth take the mountain pine. 
IV. ii. 171. 
Gui. O sweetest, fairest lily! 
My brother wears thee not the one half so well 
As when thou grew’st thyself. 
IV. ii. 201. 
