When daisies pied and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver-white, And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with read more

When daisies pied and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver-white, And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with delight, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 2.

The fringed curtains of thine eye advance. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.

The fringed curtains of thine eye advance. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.

Was ever woman in this humour wooed? Was ever woman in this humour won? -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. read more

Was ever woman in this humour wooed? Was ever woman in this humour won? -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 2.

The most senseless and fit man. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 3.

The most senseless and fit man. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 3.

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.

Here are a few of the unpleasant'st words That ever blotted paper! -The Merchant of Venice. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Here are a few of the unpleasant'st words That ever blotted paper! -The Merchant of Venice. Act iii. Sc. 2.

It is a melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples, extracted from many objects, and indeed the sundry contemplation read more

It is a melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples, extracted from many objects, and indeed the sundry contemplation of my travels, in which my often rumination wraps me in a most humorous sadness. -As You Like It. Act iv. Sc. 1.

There is a river in Macedon; and there is also moreover a river at Monmouth;… and there is salmons in read more

There is a river in Macedon; and there is also moreover a river at Monmouth;… and there is salmons in both. -King Henry V. Act iv. Sc. 7.

Now you who rhyme, and I who rhyme,
Have not we sworn it, many a time,
That read more

Now you who rhyme, and I who rhyme,
Have not we sworn it, many a time,
That we no more our verse would scrawl,
For Shakespeare he had said it all!