Weaving spiders, come not here, Hence, you long legged spinners, hence! Beetles black, approach not here, worm nor snail, do no offense. William Shakespeare
Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou 31 hadst been poor-john. Draw thy tool. Here comes 32 of the house of Montagues. William Shakespeare
A blank, my lord. She never told her love, 110 But let concealment, like a worm i'the bud, Feed on her damask cheek. William Shakespeare