William Shakespeare

It had a dying fall;
O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound
That breathes read more

It had a dying fall;
O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Stealing and giving odor.

But jealous souls will not be answered so;
They are not ever jealous for the cause,
But read more

But jealous souls will not be answered so;
They are not ever jealous for the cause,
But jealous for they're jealous.
'Tis a monster
Begot upon itself, born on itself.

See where she comes, apparelled like the spring,
Graces her subjects, and her thoughts the king
Of read more

See where she comes, apparelled like the spring,
Graces her subjects, and her thoughts the king
Of every virtue gives renown to men!

Put thyself into the trick of singularity. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 4.

Put thyself into the trick of singularity. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 4.

It is a pretty mocking of the life.

It is a pretty mocking of the life.