William Shakespeare

I would I had some flowers o' th' spring that might
Become your time of day, and yours, and read more

I would I had some flowers o' th' spring that might
Become your time of day, and yours, and yours,
That wear upon your virgin branches yet
Your maidenheads growing. O, Proserpina,
For the flowers now that, frighted, thou let'st fall
From Dis's wagon; daffodils,
That come before the swallow dares, and take
The winds of March with beauty; violets dim,
But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes
Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses,
That die unmarried, ere they can behold
Bright Phoebus in his strength--a malady
Most incident to maids; bold oxlips and
The crown imperial; lilies of all kinds,
The flower-de-luce being one.

A little more than kin, and less than kind!

A little more than kin, and less than kind!

Our sincerest laughter
With some pain is fraught:
Our sweetest songs are those which tell of saddest read more

Our sincerest laughter
With some pain is fraught:
Our sweetest songs are those which tell of saddest thought.

So holy writ in babes hath judgment shown
When judges have been babes; great floods have flown
read more

So holy writ in babes hath judgment shown
When judges have been babes; great floods have flown
From simple sources, and great seas have dried
When miracles have by the greatest been denied.

Go to your bosom: Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know

Go to your bosom: Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know