William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
Who riseth from a feast
With that keen appetite that he sits down?
Who riseth from a feast
With that keen appetite that he sits down?
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.
Yet marked O where the bolt of Cupid fell.
It fell upon a little western flower,
Before read more
Yet marked O where the bolt of Cupid fell.
It fell upon a little western flower,
Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound,
And maidens call it love-in-idleness.
What say you to a piece of beef and mustard?
What say you to a piece of beef and mustard?
Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes: Nothing read more
Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes: Nothing of him that doth fade But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2.
And then a whoreson jackanapes must take me up for swearing, as
if I borrowed mine oaths of him read more
And then a whoreson jackanapes must take me up for swearing, as
if I borrowed mine oaths of him and might not spend them at my
pleasure.
Coal-black is better than another hue
In that it scorns to bear another hue;
For all the read more
Coal-black is better than another hue
In that it scorns to bear another hue;
For all the water in the ocean
Can never turn the swan's black legs to white,
Although she lave them hourly in the flood.
Come, night; come, Romeo; come, thou day in night;
For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night
read more
Come, night; come, Romeo; come, thou day in night;
For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night
Whiter than new snow upon a raven's back.
There's something in't
More than my father's skill, which was the great'st
Of his profession, that his read more
There's something in't
More than my father's skill, which was the great'st
Of his profession, that his good receipt
Shall for my legacy be sanctified
By th' luckiest stars in heaven; and would your honor
But give me leave to thy success, I'd venture
The well-lost life of mine on his grace's cure
By such a day and hour.
I do not like 'but yet, it does allay
The good precedence: fie upon 'but yet,'
'But read more
I do not like 'but yet, it does allay
The good precedence: fie upon 'but yet,'
'But yet' is as a jailer to bring forth
Some monstrous malefactor.
