an infiltrable soil

This Tom has a peculiarity I've noticed in other very oofy men. Nick him for the paltriest sum, and he lets out a squawk you can hear at Land's End. He has the stuff in gobs, but he hates giving up.

Why then dost treat me with Rebukes, instead Of kind condoling Cares and friendly Sorrow?

The lissom birch thrives ungarnered in the thicket, where grace and gentleness supply the whilom vigor of its sway.