William Shakespeare

At land indeed
Thou dost o'ercount me of my father's house:
But since the cuckoo builds not read more

At land indeed
Thou dost o'ercount me of my father's house:
But since the cuckoo builds not for himself,
Remain in't as thou mayst.

Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit, And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, I will be brief.

Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit, And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, I will be brief.

She never told her love,
But let concealment, like a worm i' th' bud,
Feed on her read more

She never told her love,
But let concealment, like a worm i' th' bud,
Feed on her damask cheek. She pined in thought;
And, with a green and yellow melancholy,
She sat like Patience on a monument,
Smiling at grief.

When holy and devout religious men
Are at their beads, 'tis much to draw them thence,
So read more

When holy and devout religious men
Are at their beads, 'tis much to draw them thence,
So sweet is zealous contemplation.

Have you the heart? When your head did but ache,
I knit my handkercher about your brows--
read more

Have you the heart? When your head did but ache,
I knit my handkercher about your brows--
The best I had, a princess wrought it me--
And I did never ask it you again;
And with my hand at midnight held your head,
And like the watchful minutes to the hour,
Still and anon cheered up the heavy time,
Saying, 'What lack you?' and 'Where lies your grief?'