William Shakespeare

Many a time and oft
Have you climbed up to walls and battlements,
To tow'rs and windows, read more

Many a time and oft
Have you climbed up to walls and battlements,
To tow'rs and windows, yea, to chimney tops,
Your infants in your arms, and there have sat
The livelong day, with patient expectation,
To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome.

Blood hath been shed ere now, i' th' olden time,
Ere humane stature purged the gentle weal;
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Blood hath been shed ere now, i' th' olden time,
Ere humane stature purged the gentle weal;
Ay, and since too, murders have been performed
Too terrible for the ear. The time has been
That, when the brains were out, the man would die,
And there an end. But now they rise again,
With twenty mortal murders on their crowns,
And push us from our stools. This is more strange
Than such a murder is.

Supposition all our lives shall be stuck full of eyes;
For treason is but trusted like the fox,
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Supposition all our lives shall be stuck full of eyes;
For treason is but trusted like the fox,
Who, ne'er so tame, so cherished and locked up,
Will have a wild trick of his ancestors.

Love is a spirit of all compact of fire.

Love is a spirit of all compact of fire.

The gates of monarchs
Are arched so high that giants may jet through
And keep their impious read more

The gates of monarchs
Are arched so high that giants may jet through
And keep their impious turbans on without
Good morrow to the sun.