I Am A Kind Of Burr; I

I Would Challenge You To A Battle Of Wits, But I See You Are Unarmed!

Thou Weedy Elf-skinned Canker-blossom!

Where The Bee Sucks, There Suck I In The Cow-slip's Bell I Lie There I Couch When Owls Do Cry

To Some Kind Of Men Their Graces Serve Them But As Enemies.

Crowns Have Their Compass-length Of Days Their Date- Triumphs Their Tomb-felicity, Her Fate- Of Nought But Earth Can Earth Make Us Partaker, But Knowledge Makes A King Most Like His Maker.