William Shakespeare

And fearless minds climb soonest unto crowns.

And fearless minds climb soonest unto crowns.

Master, master, old news! And such news as you never heard of!

Master, master, old news! And such news as you never heard of!

You sunburnt sicklemen, of August weary,
Come hither from the furrow and be merry.
Make holiday: your read more

You sunburnt sicklemen, of August weary,
Come hither from the furrow and be merry.
Make holiday: your rye-straw hats put on,
And these fresh nymphs encounter every one
In country footing.

O, what a mansion have those vices got
Which for their habitation chose out thee,
Where beauty's read more

O, what a mansion have those vices got
Which for their habitation chose out thee,
Where beauty's veil doth cover every blot
And all things turns to fair that eyes can see!

Then get thee gone and dig my grave thyself,
And bid the merry bells ring to thine ear
read more

Then get thee gone and dig my grave thyself,
And bid the merry bells ring to thine ear
That thou are crowned, not that I am dead.