William Shakespeare

I would I had some flowers o' th' spring that might
Become your time of day, and yours, and read more

I would I had some flowers o' th' spring that might
Become your time of day, and yours, and yours,
That wear upon your virgin branches yet
Your maidenheads growing. O, Proserpina,
For the flowers now that, frighted, thou let'st fall
From Dis's wagon; daffodils,
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.

I fear it is too choleric a meat.
How say you to a fat tripe finely broiled?

I fear it is too choleric a meat.
How say you to a fat tripe finely broiled?

Treason and murder ever kept together,
As two yoke-devils sworn to either's purpose,
Working so grossly in read more

Treason and murder ever kept together,
As two yoke-devils sworn to either's purpose,
Working so grossly in a natural cause
That admiration did not whoop at them;
But thou, 'gainst all proportion, didst bring in
Wonder to wait on treason and on murder;
And whatsoever cunning fiend it was
That wrought upon thee so preposterously
Hath got the voice in hell for excellence.

My plenteous joys,
Wanton in fullness, seek to hide themselves
In drops of sorrow.

My plenteous joys,
Wanton in fullness, seek to hide themselves
In drops of sorrow.

But Hercules himself must yield to odds;
And many strokes, though with a little axe,
Hews down read more

But Hercules himself must yield to odds;
And many strokes, though with a little axe,
Hews down and fells the hardest-timbered oak.