William Shakespeare

Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth,
With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks,
read more

Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth,
With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks,
Turn all her mother's pains and benefits
To laughter and contempt, that she may feel
How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is
To have a thankless child.

More matter for a May morning. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 4.

More matter for a May morning. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 4.

Come, let's have one other gaudy night. Call to me. All my sad captains. Fill our bowls once more. Let's read more

Come, let's have one other gaudy night. Call to me. All my sad captains. Fill our bowls once more. Let's mock the midnight bell.

O, good my lord, no Latin!
I am not such a truant since my coming
As not read more

O, good my lord, no Latin!
I am not such a truant since my coming
As not to know the language I have lived in.
A strnage tongue makes my cause more strnage, suspicious.
Pray speak in English.

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds read more

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date.
Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimmed:
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,
Nor shall Death brag thou wand'rest in his shade
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st.
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So ling lives this, and this gives life to thee.