William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
I give this heavy weight from off my head
And this unwieldy sceptre from my hand,
The read more
I give this heavy weight from off my head
And this unwieldy sceptre from my hand,
The pride of kingly sway from out my heart.
With mine own tears I wash away my balm,
With mine own hands I give away my crown,
With mine own tongue deny my sacred state,
With mine own breath release all duty's rites.
O God! that one might read the book of fate,
And see the revolution of the times
read more
O God! that one might read the book of fate,
And see the revolution of the times
Make mountains level. and the continent,
Weary of solid firmness, melt itself
Into the sea!
If't be summer news,
Smile to't before; if winterly, thou need'st
But keep that count'nance still.
If't be summer news,
Smile to't before; if winterly, thou need'st
But keep that count'nance still.
Between two hawks, which flies the higher pitch,
Between two dogs, which hath the deeper mouth,
Between read more
Between two hawks, which flies the higher pitch,
Between two dogs, which hath the deeper mouth,
Between two blades, which bears the better temper,
Between two horses, which doth bear him best,
Between two girls, which hath the merriest eye,
I have perhaps some shallow spirit of judgment;
But in these nice sharp quillets of the law,
Good faith, I am no wiser than a daw.
My mind gave me,
In seeking tales and informations
Against this man, whose honesty the devil
read more
My mind gave me,
In seeking tales and informations
Against this man, whose honesty the devil
And his disciples only envy at,
Ye blew the fire that burns ye: now have at ye!
He that is well paid is well satisfied.
He that is well paid is well satisfied.
Conceit, more rich in matter than in words,
Brags of his substance, not of ornament.
They are read more
Conceit, more rich in matter than in words,
Brags of his substance, not of ornament.
They are but beggars that can count their worth;
But my true love is grown to such excess
I cannot sum up sum of half my wealth.
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.
Hold, there is the very remuneration I had of thy master, thou
halfpenny purse of wit, thou pigeon-egg of read more
Hold, there is the very remuneration I had of thy master, thou
halfpenny purse of wit, thou pigeon-egg of discretion.
And there is pansies, that's for thoughts.
And there is pansies, that's for thoughts.
