William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas
Of wheat, rye, barley, fetches, oats, and pease;
Thy turfy read more
Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas
Of wheat, rye, barley, fetches, oats, and pease;
Thy turfy mountains, where live nibbling sheep,
And flat meads thatched with stover, them to keep;
Thy banks with pioned and twilled brims,
Which spongy April at thy hest betrims
To make cold nymphs chaste crowns; and thy broom groves,
Whose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves,
Being lasslorn; thy pole-clipt vineyard;
And thy sea-marge, sterile and rocky-hard,
Where thou thyself dost air--the queen o' th' sky,
Whose wat-ry arch and messenger am I,
Bids thee leave these, and with her sovereign grace,
Here on this grass-plot, in this very place,
To come and sport: her peacocks fly amain.
Approach, rich Ceres, her to entertain.
Why, so can I, or so can any man;
But will they come when you do call for them?
Why, so can I, or so can any man;
But will they come when you do call for them?
Is this a dagger which I see before me,
The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee!
read more
Is this a dagger which I see before me,
The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee!
I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.
Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible
To feeling as to sight? or art thou but
A dagger of the mind, a false creation
Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
I see thee yet, in form as palpable
As this which now I draw.
At land indeed
Thou dost o'ercount me of my father's house:
But since the cuckoo builds not read more
At land indeed
Thou dost o'ercount me of my father's house:
But since the cuckoo builds not for himself,
Remain in't as thou mayst.
It is a creature
That dotes on Cassio, as 'tis the strumpet's plague
To beguile many and read more
It is a creature
That dotes on Cassio, as 'tis the strumpet's plague
To beguile many and be beguiled by one.
His heart and hand both open and both free; For what he has he gives, what thinks he shows; Yet read more
His heart and hand both open and both free; For what he has he gives, what thinks he shows; Yet gives he not till judgment guide his bounty. -Troilus and Cressida. Act iv. Sc. 5.
An I thought he had been valiant and so cunning in fence, I 'ld have seen him damned ere I' read more
An I thought he had been valiant and so cunning in fence, I 'ld have seen him damned ere I' ld have challenged him. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 4.
These most brisk and giddy-paced times. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 4.
These most brisk and giddy-paced times. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 4.
Here are a few of the unpleasant'st words That ever blotted paper! -The Merchant of Venice. Act iii. Sc. 2.
Here are a few of the unpleasant'st words That ever blotted paper! -The Merchant of Venice. Act iii. Sc. 2.
He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act read more
He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 1.
