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

For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.

For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.

If I were as tedious as a king, I could find it in my heart to bestow it all of read more

If I were as tedious as a king, I could find it in my heart to bestow it all of your worship. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 5.

A kind Of excellent dumb discourse. -The Tempest. Act iii. Sc. 3.

A kind Of excellent dumb discourse. -The Tempest. Act iii. Sc. 3.

This is very midsummer madness. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 4.

This is very midsummer madness. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 4.

The setting sun, and music at the close, As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last, Writ in remembrance read more

The setting sun, and music at the close, As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last, Writ in remembrance more than things long past. -King Richard II. Act ii. Sc. 1.

Fill all thy bones with aches. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.

Fill all thy bones with aches. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.

The fashion wears out more apparel than the man. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 3.

The fashion wears out more apparel than the man. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 3.

At Christmas I no more desire a rose Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled mirth; But like of each read more

At Christmas I no more desire a rose Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled mirth; But like of each thing that in season grows. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 1.