Tomorrow is S. Valentines day, all in the morning betime, / And I a Maid at your Window, to be your Valentine.

Some scumd the drosse, that from the metall came; / Some stird the molten owre with ladles great[…].

Large cities foul their own nest as they grow, putting the health of their citizens in jeopardy.

Woe betide the camera-shy or the fluffers of lines.