From “Twelfth Night,” Act II. Sc. 3.
O MISTRESS mine, where are you roaming?
O, stay and hear! your true-love ’s coming
That can sing both high and low;
Trip no further, pretty sweeting,
Journeys end in lovers’ meeting,—
Every wise man’s son...
|
From “Othello,” Act I. Sc. 3.
OTHELLO.—Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors,
My very noble and approved good masters,—
That I have ta’en away this old man’s daughter,
It is most true; true, I have married her:
The very head and front of my offending...
|
Sonnet Cxlviii.
o ME! what eyes hath Love put in my head
Which have no correspondence with true sight!
Or, if they have, where is my judgment fled
That censures falsely what they see aright?
If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote,
What means the...
|
Sonnet Xxxiii.
full many a glorious morning have I seen
Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye,
Kissing with golden face the meadows green,
Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy;
Anon permit the basest clouds to ride,
With ugly rack on...
|
Sonnet Cxvi.
let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments: love is not love,
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove;
O, no! it is an ever-fixèd mark,
That looks on tempests, and is never shaken;...
|
From “Julius Cæsar,” Act II. Sc. 1.
Enter PORTIA.
PORTIA.— Brutus, my lord!
BRUTUS.—Portia, what mean you? Wherefore rise you now?
It is not for your health thus to commit
Your weak condition to the raw cold morning.
PORTIA.—Nor...
|
TAKE, 1 O, take those lips away,
That so sweetly were forsworn;
And those eyes, like break of day,
Lights that do mislead the morn;
But my kisses bring again,
Seals of love, but sealed in vain.
Hide, O, hide those hills of snow
...
|
Sonnet Lxxxvii.
farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing,
And like enough thou know’st thy estimate:
The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing;
My bonds in thee are all determinate.
For how do I hold thee but by thy granting?
And for that...
|
From “All ’s Well That Ends Well,” Act I. Sc. 1.
I AM undone: there is no living, none,
If Bertram be away. It were all one,
That I should love a bright particular star,
And think to wed it, he is so above me:
In his bright radiance and collateral light...
|
From “As You Like It,” Act II. Sc. 7.
BLOW, blow, thou winter wind,
Thou art not so unkind
As man’s ingratitude;
Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen,
Although thy breath be rude.
...
|
|
|
