William Shakespeare

I would that I were low laid in my grave: I am not worth this coil that 's made for read more

I would that I were low laid in my grave: I am not worth this coil that 's made for me. -King John. Act ii. Sc. 1.

O base Hungarian wight! wilt thou the spigot wield? -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. Sc. 3.

O base Hungarian wight! wilt thou the spigot wield? -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. Sc. 3.

Lo, here the gentle lark, weary of rest,
From his moist cabinet mounts up on high
And read more

Lo, here the gentle lark, weary of rest,
From his moist cabinet mounts up on high
And wakes the morning, from whose silver breast
The sun ariseth in his majesty;
Who doth the world so gloriously behold
That cedar tops and hills seem burnished gold.

But now will canker sorrow eat my bud
And chase the native beauty from his cheek,
And read more

But now will canker sorrow eat my bud
And chase the native beauty from his cheek,
And he will look as hollow as a ghost,
As dim and meagre as an ague's fit,
And so he'll die; and rising so again,
When I shall meet him in the court of heaven
I shall not know him.

Coal-black is better than another hue
In that it scorns to bear another hue;
For all the read more

Coal-black is better than another hue
In that it scorns to bear another hue;
For all the water in the ocean
Can never turn the swan's black legs to white,
Although she lave them hourly in the flood.