William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
This apoplexy, as I take it, is a kind of lethargy, an't please
your lordship, a kind of sleeping read more
This apoplexy, as I take it, is a kind of lethargy, an't please
your lordship, a kind of sleeping in the blood, a whoreson
tingling.
I must go seek some dewdrops here,
And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.
I must go seek some dewdrops here,
And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.
There is thy gold--worse poison to men's souls,
Doing more murder in this loathsome world,
Than these read more
There is thy gold--worse poison to men's souls,
Doing more murder in this loathsome world,
Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell.
I sell thee poison; thou hast sold me none
Farewell. Buy food and get thyself in flesh.
Shall remain!
Hear you this Triton of the minnows? Mark you
His absolute 'shall'?
Shall remain!
Hear you this Triton of the minnows? Mark you
His absolute 'shall'?
All swol'n with chafing, down Adonis sits,
Banning his boist'rous and unruly beast;
And now the happy read more
All swol'n with chafing, down Adonis sits,
Banning his boist'rous and unruly beast;
And now the happy season once more fits
That lovesick Love by pleading may be blest;
For lovers say the heart hath treble wrong
When it is barred the aidance of the tongue.
A peace is of the nature of a conquest; for then both parties nobly are subdued, and neither party loser.
A peace is of the nature of a conquest; for then both parties nobly are subdued, and neither party loser.
Now the good gods forbid
That our renowned Rome, whose gratitude
Towards her deserved children is enrolled
read more
Now the good gods forbid
That our renowned Rome, whose gratitude
Towards her deserved children is enrolled
In Jove's own book, like an unnatural dam
Should now eat up her own!
Did he so often lodge in open field,
In winter's cold and summer's parching heat,
To conquer read more
Did he so often lodge in open field,
In winter's cold and summer's parching heat,
To conquer France, his true inheritance?
Fly pride, says the peacock: mistress, that you know.
Fly pride, says the peacock: mistress, that you know.
Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound
Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears
read more
Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound
Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears
Do scald me like molten lead.
