Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage;
But when his fair course is not hindered,
He makes sweet music with the enamell'd stones,
Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge
He overtaketh in his pilgrimage;
And so by many winding nooks he strays,
With willing sport to the wild ocean.
Shakespeare, Two Gentlemen of Verona, II. vii. 25-32.
ll. 27-8. Yet if her often gnawing kisses winne
The traiterous banke to gape, and let her in.