Know'st thou this, Souldier? 'tis a much chang'd plant, which yet
Thy selfe did'st set,
'Tis chang'd indeed, did Autumn e're such beauties bring
To shame his Spring?
O! who so hard an husbandman could ever find
A soyle so kind?
Is not the soile a kind one (thinke ye) that returnes
Roses for Thornes?