William Shakespeare

Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world
Like a Colossus, and we petty men
Walk under read more

Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world
Like a Colossus, and we petty men
Walk under his huge legs and peep about
To find ourselves dishonorable graves.

Take thou some new infection to thy eye,
And the rank poison of the old will die.

Take thou some new infection to thy eye,
And the rank poison of the old will die.

O, she will sing the savageness out of a bear!

O, she will sing the savageness out of a bear!

Then get thee gone and dig my grave thyself,
And bid the merry bells ring to thine ear
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Then get thee gone and dig my grave thyself,
And bid the merry bells ring to thine ear
That thou are crowned, not that I am dead.