236 SHAKESPEARE'S GARDEN 
Or as the berry breaks before it staineth. 
L. 460. 
For on the grass she lies as she were slain, 
Till his breath breatheth life in her again. 
L. 473. 
The mellow plum doth fall, the green sticks fast, 
Or being early pluck’d is sour to taste. 
L. 527. 
What though the rose have prickles, yet ’tis pluck’d. 
L. 574- 
Whereat a sudden pale, 
Like lawn being spread upon the blushing rose, 
Usurps her cheeks. 
L. 589. 
Even as poor birds, deceived with painted grapes, 
Do surfeit by the eye and pine the maw, 
Even so she languisheth in her mishaps, 
As those poor birds that helpless berries saw. 
L. 601. 
The thorny brambles and embracing bushes, 
As fearful of him, part. 
L. 629. 
Each envious brier his weary legs doth scratch, 
Each shadow makes him stop, each murmur stay. 
L. 705. 
The sun ariseth in his majesty ; 
Who doth the world so gloriously behold 
That cedar-tops and hills seem burnish’d gold. 
L. 857. 
This said, she hasteth to a myrtle grove. 
L. 865. 
And as she runs, the bushes in the way 
Some catch her by the neck, some kiss her face, 
Some twine about her thigh to make her stay. 
L. 871. 
“ Hard-favour’d tyrant, ugly, meagre, lean, 
Hateful divorce of love ”—thus chides she Death— 
“ Grim-grinning ghost, earth’s worm, what dost thou mean 
To stifle beauty and to steal his breath, 
Who when he lived, his breath and beauty set 
Gloss on the rose, smell to the violet ?” 
L. 931- 
