William Shakespeare

Bleed, bleed, poor Country!
Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure,
For goodness dare not check thee; read more

Bleed, bleed, poor Country!
Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure,
For goodness dare not check thee; wear thou thy wrongs,
The title is affeered!

By my penny of observation. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iii. Sc. 1.

By my penny of observation. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iii. Sc. 1.

Fit thy consent to my sharp appetite,
Lay by all nicety and prolixious blushes,
That banish what read more

Fit thy consent to my sharp appetite,
Lay by all nicety and prolixious blushes,
That banish what they sue for: redeem thy brother
By yielding up thy body to my will,
Or else he must not only die the death,
But thy unkindess shall his death draw out
To ling'ring sufferance.

Were't not affection chains thy tender days
To the sweet glances of thy honored love,
I rather read more

Were't not affection chains thy tender days
To the sweet glances of thy honored love,
I rather would entreat thy company
To see the wonders of the world abroad
Than, living dully sluggardized at home,
Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness.

Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, brags of his substance: they are but beggars who can count their read more

Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, brags of his substance: they are but beggars who can count their worth.