of empty boxes, Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds, Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses Were thinly scatter’d, to make the face of heaven Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes Of mortals that fall back to your chamber. The day to cheer, and night’s dank dew to dry, I must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you do wrong your hand too