William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
I cannot give thee less, to be called grateful.
Thou thought'st to help me, and such thanks I give
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I cannot give thee less, to be called grateful.
Thou thought'st to help me, and such thanks I give
As one near death to those that wish him live.
What's the business,
That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley
The sleepers of the house? Speak, read more
What's the business,
That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley
The sleepers of the house? Speak, speak!
Question your grace the late ambassadors,
With what great state he heard their embassy,
How well supplied read more
Question your grace the late ambassadors,
With what great state he heard their embassy,
How well supplied with noble counsellors,
How modest in exception, and withal
How terrible in constant resolution,
And you shall find his vanities forespent
Were but the outside of the Roman Brutus,
Covering discretion with a coat of folly;
As gardeners do with ordure hide those roots
That shall first spring and be most delicate.
Then know, that I have little wealth to lose.
A man I am, crossed with adversity;
My read more
Then know, that I have little wealth to lose.
A man I am, crossed with adversity;
My riches are these poor habiliments,
Of which if you should here disfurnish me,
You take the sum and substance that I have.
The lady doth protest too much, me thinks
The lady doth protest too much, me thinks
Hoy-day!
What a sweep of vanity comes this way!
Hoy-day!
What a sweep of vanity comes this way!
Epicurean cooks
Sharpen with cloyless sauce his appetite,
That sleep and feeding may prorogue his honor
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Epicurean cooks
Sharpen with cloyless sauce his appetite,
That sleep and feeding may prorogue his honor
Evan till a Lethe'd dulness--
A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye.
In the most high and palmy state of Rome,
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A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye.
In the most high and palmy state of Rome,
A little ere the mightiest Julius fell,
The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead
Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets;
As stars with trains of fire and dews of blood,
Disasters in the sun; and the moist star
Upon whose influence Neptune's empire stands
Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse.
For thou hast given me in this beauteous face
A world of earthly blessings to my soul,
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For thou hast given me in this beauteous face
A world of earthly blessings to my soul,
If sympathy of love unite our thoughts.
This casket threatens; men that hazard all
Do it in hope of fair advantages.
A golden mind read more
This casket threatens; men that hazard all
Do it in hope of fair advantages.
A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross;
I'll then nor give nor hazard aught for lead.