Faerie Queene. Book i. Canto iii. St. 4.
Ay me, how many perils doe enfold
The righteous man, to make him daily fall![27:3]
Faerie Queene. Book i. Canto viii. St. 1.
As when in Cymbrian plaine
An heard of bulles, whom kindly rage doth sting,
Doe for the milky mothers want complaine,[27:4]
And fill the fieldes with troublous bellowing.
Faerie Queene. Book i. Canto viii. St. 11.
Entire affection hateth nicer hands.