William Shakespeare

Come, I will fasten on this sleeve of thine:
Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine,
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Come, I will fasten on this sleeve of thine:
Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine,
Whose weakness married to thy stronger state
Makes with me thy strength to communicate.
If aught possess thee from me, it is dross,
Usurping ivy, brier, or idle moss;
Who all for want of pruning, with intrusion
Infect thy sap and live on thy confusion.

I will play the swan,
And die in music.

I will play the swan,
And die in music.

Read o'er this
And after, this, and then to breakfast with
What appetite you have.

Read o'er this
And after, this, and then to breakfast with
What appetite you have.

How far that little candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world. -The Merchant of read more

How far that little candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world. -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.

May be he is not well.
Infirmity doth neglect all office
Whereto our health is bound.

May be he is not well.
Infirmity doth neglect all office
Whereto our health is bound.