A Pretty Face May Be Enough To

For When They See The People Swarm Into The Streets, And Daily Wet To The Skin With Rain, And Yet Cannot Persuade Them To Go Out Of The Rain, They Do Keep Themselves Within Their Houses, Seeing They Cannot Remedy The Folly Of The People.

They Set Great Store By Their Gardens . . . Their Studie And Deligence Herein Commeth Not Only Of Pleasure, But Also Of A Certain Strife And Contention . . . Concerning The Trimming, Husbanding, And Furnishing Of Their Gardens; Everye Man Or His Owne Parte.

I Die The King's Faithful Servant, But God's First.

As For Rosemary, I Let It Run All Over My Garden Walls, Not Only Because My Bees Love It But Because It Is The Herb Sacred To Remembrance And To Friendship, Whence A Sprig Of It Hath A Dumb Language.

Sex And Religion Are Closer To Each Other Than Either Might Prefer.