For a good poet's made, as well as born,
And such wast thou! Look how the father's face
read more

For a good poet's made, as well as born,
And such wast thou! Look how the father's face
Lives in his issue; even so the race
Of Shakespeare's mind and manner brightly shine
In his well-turned and true-filed lines;
In each of which he seems to shake a lance,
As brandished at the eyes of ignorance.

Thou hast most traitorously corrupted the youth of the realm in erecting a grammar-school; and whereas, before, our forefathers had read more

Thou hast most traitorously corrupted the youth of the realm in erecting a grammar-school; and whereas, before, our forefathers had no other books but the score and the tally, thou hast caused printing to be used, and, contrary to the king, his crown and dignity, thou hast built a paper-mill. -King Henry VI. Part II. Act iv. Sc. 7.

Merrily, merrily shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough. -The Tempest. Act v. Sc. 1.

Merrily, merrily shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough. -The Tempest. Act v. Sc. 1.

What 's gone and what 's past help Should be past grief. -The Winter's Tale. Act iii. Sc. 2.

What 's gone and what 's past help Should be past grief. -The Winter's Tale. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Affliction may one day smile again; and till then, sit thee down, sorrow! -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. read more

Affliction may one day smile again; and till then, sit thee down, sorrow! -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 1.

That reverend vice, that grey iniquity, that father ruffian, that vanity in years. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. read more

That reverend vice, that grey iniquity, that father ruffian, that vanity in years. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 4.

Now, by two-headed Janus, Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 1.

Now, by two-headed Janus, Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 1.

Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth The tender read more

Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hopes; to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him; The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root, And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured, Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory, But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride At length broke under me and now has left me, Weary and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must forever hide me. Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye: I feel my heart new opened. O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours! There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have: And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.

How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here we will sit and let the sounds of music Creep in read more

How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here we will sit and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold: There 's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins. Such harmony is in immortal souls; But whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it. -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.