In foecunditatem, sibi ipsi damnosam
If sence I had, my owne estate to knowe,
Before all trees, my selfe hath cause to crie:
In everie hedge, and common waye, I growe,
Where, I am made a praye, to passers by:
And when, they see my nuttes are ripe, and broune,
My bowghes are broke, my leaves are beaten doune.
Thus everie yeare, when I doe yeelde increase,
My proper fruicte, my ruine doth procure:
If fruictlesse I, then had I growen in peace,
Oh barrennes, of all most happie, sure
Which wordes with griefe, did AGRIPPINA grone,
And mothers more, whose children made them mone.