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Riches of children passe a princes throne, Which touch the fathers heart with secret ioy. When without shame he saith, these be mine owne. S. Ph. Sidney.
This patterne good or ill our children get, For what they see, their parents loue or hate, Their first caught sence prefers to teachers blowes, The cockerings cockerd, we bewaile too late,
When that we see our ofspring gayly bent, Women man-wood, and men effeminate. Idem.
— What children apprehend, The same they like, they followe and amend. D. Lodge.
There is no loue may be compa'rd to that, The tender mother beares vnto the childe, For euen so much the roote it doth encrease, As their griefe growes, our contentation cease. G. Gas.