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When daisies pied and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver-white, And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with read more
When daisies pied and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver-white, And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with delight, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 2.
How far that little candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world. -The Merchant of read more
How far that little candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world. -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.
Is she not passing fair? -The Two Gentleman of Verona. Act iv. Sc. 4.
Is she not passing fair? -The Two Gentleman of Verona. Act iv. Sc. 4.
She 's beautiful, and therefore to be wooed; She is a woman, therefore to be won. -King Henry VI. Part read more
She 's beautiful, and therefore to be wooed; She is a woman, therefore to be won. -King Henry VI. Part I. Act v. Sc. 3.
A most unspotted lily shall she pass To the ground, and all the world shall mourn her. -King Henry VIII. read more
A most unspotted lily shall she pass To the ground, and all the world shall mourn her. -King Henry VIII. Act v. Sc. 5.
Let 's go hand in hand, not one before another. -The Comedy of Errors. Act v. Sc. 1.
Let 's go hand in hand, not one before another. -The Comedy of Errors. Act v. Sc. 1.
I do know of these That therefore only are reputed wise For saying nothing. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. read more
I do know of these That therefore only are reputed wise For saying nothing. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 1.
'T is strange that death should sing. I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan, Who chants a doleful read more
'T is strange that death should sing. I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan, Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death, And from the organ-pipe of frailty sings His soul and body to their lasting rest. -King John. Act v. Sc. 7.
I have touched the highest point of all my greatness; And from that full meridian of my glory I haste read more
I have touched the highest point of all my greatness; And from that full meridian of my glory I haste now to my setting: I shall fall Like a bright exhalation in the evening, And no man see me more. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.