William Shakespeare

Through tattered clothes small vices do appear;
Robes and furred gowns hide all.

Through tattered clothes small vices do appear;
Robes and furred gowns hide all.

Having nothing, nothing can he lose.

Having nothing, nothing can he lose.

Hold, there is forty ducats. Let me have
A dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear
As will read more

Hold, there is forty ducats. Let me have
A dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear
As will disperse itself through all the veins
That the life-weary taker may fall dead,
And that the trunk may be discharged of breath
As violently as hasty powder fired
Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb.

My grief lies all within, And these external manners of lament Are merely shadows to the unseen grief That swells read more

My grief lies all within, And these external manners of lament Are merely shadows to the unseen grief That swells with silence in the tortured soul

The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark
When neither is attended; and I think
The read more

The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark
When neither is attended; and I think
The nightingale, if she should sing by day
When every goose is cackling, would be thought
No better a musician than the wren.
How many thing by season seasoned are
To their right praise and true perfection!