The Seasons. Spring. Line 1.
Base Envy withers at another's joy,
And hates that excellence it cannot reach.
The Seasons. Spring. Line 283.
But who can paint
Like Nature? Can imagination boast,
Amid its gay creation, hues like hers?
The Seasons. Spring. Line 465.
Amid the roses fierce Repentance rears
Her snaky crest.