William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
He hath borne himself beyond the promise of his age, doing in the
figure of a lamb the feats read more
He hath borne himself beyond the promise of his age, doing in the
figure of a lamb the feats of a lion. He hath indeed bettered
expectation than you must expect of me to tell you how.
Ram thou fruitful tidings in mine ears,
That long time have been barren.
Ram thou fruitful tidings in mine ears,
That long time have been barren.
Love all, trust a few. Do wrong to none.
Love all, trust a few. Do wrong to none.
I never resist temptation, because I have found that things that
are bad for me do not tempt me.
I never resist temptation, because I have found that things that
are bad for me do not tempt me.
There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip;
Nay, her foot speaks.
There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip;
Nay, her foot speaks.
That is the way to lay the city flat,
To bring the roof to the foundation,
And read more
That is the way to lay the city flat,
To bring the roof to the foundation,
And bury all, which yet distinctly ranges,
In heaps and piles of ruin.
She bids you on the wanton rushes lay you down
And rest your gentle head upon her lap,
read more
She bids you on the wanton rushes lay you down
And rest your gentle head upon her lap,
And she will sing the song that pleaseth you
And on your eyelids crown the god of sleep,
Charming your brood with pleasing heaviness,
Making such difference 'twixt wake and sleep
As is the difference betwixt day and night
The hour before the heavenly-harnessed team
Begins his golden progress in the east.
Study is like the heaven's glorious sun,
That will not be deep-searched with saucy looks:
Small have read more
Study is like the heaven's glorious sun,
That will not be deep-searched with saucy looks:
Small have continual plodders ever won,
Save base authority from others' books.
For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak
With most miraculous organ.
For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak
With most miraculous organ.
I have ventured,
Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders,
This many summers in a sea read more
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 for ever hide me.
