The summer's flower is to the summer sweet,
Though to itself it only live and die,
But if that flower with base infection meet,
The basest weed outbraves its dignity:
For sweetest things turn sour est by their deeds;
Likes that fester smell far worse than weeds.
(William Shakespeare, 1564 - 1676)
Though to itself it only live and die,
But if that flower with base infection meet,
The basest weed outbraves its dignity:
For sweetest things turn sour est by their deeds;
Likes that fester smell far worse than weeds.
(William Shakespeare, 1564 - 1676)