238 
SHAKESPEARE’S GARDEN 
And being lighted, by the light he spies 
Lucretia’s glove, wherein her needle sticks : 
He takes it from the rushes where it lies, 
And gripping it, the needle his finger pricks; 
As who should say, “ This glove to wanton tricks 
Is not inured ; return again in haste ; 
Thou see’t our mistress’ ornaments are chaste.” 
L. 316. 
Her lily hand her rosy cheek lies under, 
Cozening the pillow of a lawful kiss. 
L. 386. 
Without the bed her other fair hand was, 
On the green coverlet; whose perfect white 
Show’d like an April daisy on the grass, 
With pearly sweat, resembling dew of night. 
Her eyes, like marigolds, had sheath’d their light, 
And canopied in darkness sweetly lay, 
Till they might open to adorn the day. 
L- 393- 
Thus he replies: “ The colour in thy face 
That even for anger makes the lily pale, 
And the red rose blush at her own disgrace, 
Shall plead for me.” 
L. 477. 
I see what crosses my attempt will bring; 
I know what thorns the growing rose defends ; 
I think the honey guarded with a sting. 
L. 491. 
The lesser thing should not the greater hide ; 
The cedar stoops not to the base shrub’s foot, 
But low shrubs wither at the cedar’s root. 
L. 664. 
Thy secret pleasure turns to open shame, 
Thy private feasting to a public fast, 
Thy smoothing titles to a ragged name, 
Thy sugar’d tongue to bitter wormwood taste: 
Thy violent vanities can never last. 
How comes it then, vile Opportunity, 
Being so bad, such numbers seek for thee ? 
L. 890. 
To fill with worm-holes stately monuments, 
To feed oblivion with decay of things, 
