William Shakespeare

One heat another heat expels.

One heat another heat expels.

My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind:
So flewed, so sanded, and their heads are hung
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My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind:
So flewed, so sanded, and their heads are hung
With ears that sweep away the morning dew;
Crook-kneed, and dewlapped like Thessalian bulls;
Slow in pursuit, but matched in mouth like bells,
Each under each.

'Tis not long after
But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve,
For daws to peck read more

'Tis not long after
But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve,
For daws to peck at.

Fie, fie upon her!
There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip;
Nay, her foot speaks. read more

Fie, fie upon her!
There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip;
Nay, her foot speaks. Her wanton spirits look out
At every joint and motive of her body.

In few, they hurried us aboard a bark,
Bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepared
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In few, they hurried us aboard a bark,
Bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepared
A rotten carcass of a butt, not rigged,
Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats
Instinctively have quit it.