And virtues clip not with base flatteries.
Here could I write what you deserve of praise,
Others might wear, but I should win the bays.
Sing soft, ye pretty birds, while Cælia sleeps,
And gentle gales play gently with the leaves;
Learn of the neighbour brooks, whose silent deeps
Would teach him fear, that her soft sleep bereaves
Mine oaten reed, devoted to her praise,