Tree and bough

As You Like It, [3.2.123-138]. Cel. (reading) “Why should this a desert be?/ For it is unpeopled? No;/ Tongues shall hang on every tree,/ That shall civil sayings show:/ Some, how brief the life of man/ Runs his erring pilgramage,/ That the stretching of a span/ Buckles in his sum of age;/ Some, of violated vows/ Twixt the souls of friend and friend;/ But upon the fairest boughs,/ Or at every sentence end,/ Will I ‘Rosalinda’ write,/ Teaching all that read to know/ The quintessence of every sprite/ Heaven would in little show.”