This is from his late play, "Winter's Tale," to which Germaine Greer points us in the New Yorker (surely the Bard delighted in the word play - tension between this passage and the title-theme):
That come before the swallow dares, and take
The winds of March with beauty: violets, dim,
But sweeter than the lids of Juno’s eyes
Or Cytherea’s breath: pale primroses
That die unmarried, ere they can behold
Bright Phoebus in his strength—a malady
Most incident to maids: bold oxlips and
The crown imperial: lilies of all kinds,
The flower-de-luce being one.
(Act IV, Scene 4, lines 136-45
And now, I must see off el V, as he begins the journey to New Orleans and EMP, the Banjo Conference and the Senegal Conference.