Elizabeth

“Our English tongue, which hath been the most harsh, uneven, and broken language of the world, part Dutch, part Irish, Saxon, Scotch, Welsh, and indeed a gallimaufry of many, but perfect in none, is now by this secondary means of playing, continually refined, every writer striving in himself to add a new flourish unto it; so that in process, from the most rude and unpolished tongue, it is grown to a most perfect and composed language, and many excellent works and elaborate poems writ in the same, that many nations grow enamored of our tongue (before despised).”
― Thomas Heywood (1612)

“Now I am here; what thou wilt do with me
None of my books will show:
I read and sigh and wish I were a tree,
For sure, then I should grow
To fruit or shade: At least some bird would trust
Her household to me, and I should be just.”
― George Herbert