William Shakespeare

The setting sun, and music at the close,
As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last,
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The setting sun, and music at the close,
As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last,
Writ in remembrance more than things long past.

What wound did ever heal but my degrees?

What wound did ever heal but my degrees?

But when I came, alas, to wive,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
By swaggering read more

But when I came, alas, to wive,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
By swaggering could I never thrive,
For the rain it raineth every day.

For my voice, I have lost it with halloing and singing of anthems. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act i. read more

For my voice, I have lost it with halloing and singing of anthems. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act i. Sc. 2.

The fire i' th' flint
Shows not till it be struck; our gentle flame
Provokes itself and read more

The fire i' th' flint
Shows not till it be struck; our gentle flame
Provokes itself and like the current flies
Each bound it chafes.