William Shakespeare ( 10 of 368 )
As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle--and is not a
buff jerkin in a most read more
As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle--and is not a
buff jerkin in a most sweet robe of durance?
And thus I clothe my naked villany
With old odd ends, stol'n out of holy writ,
And read more
And thus I clothe my naked villany
With old odd ends, stol'n out of holy writ,
And seem a saint when most I play the devil.
Good hay, sweet hay, hath no fellow.
Good hay, sweet hay, hath no fellow.
Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren
ground--long heath, brown furze, anything. read more
Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren
ground--long heath, brown furze, anything. The wills above be
done, but I would fain die a dry death.
The bird that hath been limed in a bush
With trembling wing misdoubteth every bush.
The bird that hath been limed in a bush
With trembling wing misdoubteth every bush.
But neither bended knees, pure hands held up,
Sad sighs, deep groans, nor silver-shedding tears,
Could penetrate read more
But neither bended knees, pure hands held up,
Sad sighs, deep groans, nor silver-shedding tears,
Could penetrate her uncompassionate sire.
Ill blows the wind that profits nobody.
Ill blows the wind that profits nobody.
An honest tale speeds best being plainly told.
An honest tale speeds best being plainly told.
