William Shakespeare

I dote on his very absence.

I dote on his very absence.

In those holy fields Over whose acres walked those blessed feet Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd For our read more

In those holy fields Over whose acres walked those blessed feet Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd For our advantage on the bitter cross. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 1.

Hail to thee, lady! and the grace of heaven,
Before, behind thee, and on every hand,
Enwheel read more

Hail to thee, lady! and the grace of heaven,
Before, behind thee, and on every hand,
Enwheel thee round!

In such a night
Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew,
And saw the lion's shadow ere himself,
read more

In such a night
Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew,
And saw the lion's shadow ere himself,
And ran dismayed away.

Hath not thy rose a canker, Somerset?
Hath not thy rose a thorn, Plantagenet?

Hath not thy rose a canker, Somerset?
Hath not thy rose a thorn, Plantagenet?