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天生下的万物没有弃掷，什么都有它各自的特色，石块的冥顽，草木的无知，都含着玄妙的造化生机。莫看那蠢蠢的恶木莠蔓，对世间都有它特殊贡献；即使最纯良的美谷嘉禾，用得失当也会害性戕躯。
The grey-eyed morn smiles on the frowning night，Chequering the eastern clouds with streaksof light，And flecked darkness like a drunkard reelsFrom forth day's path and Titan's fiery wheels：Now，ere the sun advance his burning eye，The day to cheer and night's dank dew to dry，I must up-fill this osier cage of ours With baleful weeds and precious-juiced flowers．
The earth that's nature's mother is her tomb；What is her burying grave that is her womb，And from her womb children of divers kind We sucking on her natural bosom find，Many for many virtues excellent，None but for some and yet all different．O，mickle is the powerful grace that lies In herbs，plants，stones，and their true qualities：For nought so vile that on the earth doth liveBut to the earth some special good doth give，Nor aught so good but strain'd from that fair use Revoltsfrom true birth，stumblingon abuse：Virtue itself turns vice，being misapplied；And vice sometimes by action dignified．
Within the infant rind of this small flower Poison hath residence and medicine power：For this，being smelt，with that part cheers each part；Being tasted，slays all senses with the heart．Two such opposed kings encamp them still In man as well as herbs，grace and rude will；And where the worser is predominant，Full soon the canker death eats up that plant．
