William Shakespeare

Lawn as white as driven snow,
Cyprus black as e'er was crow,
Gloves as sweet as damask read more

Lawn as white as driven snow,
Cyprus black as e'er was crow,
Gloves as sweet as damask roses,
Masks for faces and for noses,
Bugle bracelet, necklace amber,
Perfume for a lady's chamber,
Golden quoifs and stomachers
For my lads to give their dears,
Pins and poking-sticks of steel,
What maids lack from head to heel.

Murder most foul, as in the best it is,
But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.

Murder most foul, as in the best it is,
But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.

I will go wash;
And when my face is fair, you shall perceive
Whether I blush or read more

I will go wash;
And when my face is fair, you shall perceive
Whether I blush or no.

To move wild laughter in the throat of death?
It cannot be; it is impossible:
Mirth cannot read more

To move wild laughter in the throat of death?
It cannot be; it is impossible:
Mirth cannot move a soul in agony.

O, how full of briers is this working-day world! -As You Like It. Act i. Sc. 3.

O, how full of briers is this working-day world! -As You Like It. Act i. Sc. 3.