What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
appear arms bear beauty better blood body breast breath cheeks cold dead dear death delight desire dost doth earth eyes face fair faith fall false fault fear feel fire flower force foul gentle give grace grief hand happy hast hate hath head hear heart heaven hold honour hope kind king kiss lady leave lies light lips live look Lord lost love's LOVER Lucrece lust mind Nature never night once pain plain play pleasure poet poor praise quoth rest seek seems seen Shakspeare shame sighs sight sometime sorrow spirit spring stand strong Surrey sweet tears tell thee thine things thou art thought tongue true truth unto weep wind wound wrong youth
Page 152 - 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 riches where is my deserving? The cause of this fair gift in me is wanting, And so my patent back again is swerving. Thyself thou...
Page 180 - Two loves I have of comfort and despair, Which like two spirits do suggest me still : The better angel is a man right fair, The worser spirit a woman colour'd ill. To win me soon to hell, my female evil Tempteth my better angel from my side, And would corrupt my saint to be a devil, Wooing his purity with her foul pride.
Page 124 - And moan the expense of many a vanish'd sight : Then can I grieve at grievances foregone, And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan, Which I new pay as if not paid before. But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, All losses are restored and sorrows end.
Page 110 - Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry ? Or who is he so fond will be the tomb Of his self-love, to stop posterity ? Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in thee Calls back the lovely April of her prime ; So thou through windows of thine age shalt see, Despite of wrinkles, this thy golden time.
Page 210 - Every one that flatters thee Is no friend in misery. Words are easy, like the wind ; Faithful friends are hard to find : Every man will be thy friend Whilst thou hast wherewith to spend ; But if store of crowns be scant, No man will supply thy want. If that one be prodigal, Bountiful they will him call, And with such-like flattering,
Page 120 - For all that beauty that doth cover thee, Is but the seemly raiment of my heart. Which in thy breast doth live, as thine in me. How can I, then, be elder than thou art ? O ! therefore, love, be of thyself so wary, As I, not for myself, but for thee will, Bearing thy heart, which I will keep so chary As tender nurse her babe from faring ill.
Page 138 - Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, So do our minutes hasten to their end; Each changing place with that which goes before, In sequent toil all forwards do contend. Nativity, once in the main of light, Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crown'd, Crooked eclipses 'gainst his glory fight, And Time that gave doth now his gift confound.
Page xxxv - I'll read, his for his love." 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 his celestial face, And from the forlorn world his visage hide, Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace : Even so my sun one early morn did shine With...
Page 115 - ... o'er with white, When lofty trees I see barren of leaves Which erst from heat did canopy the herd, And summer's green all girded up in sheaves Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard, Then of thy beauty do I question make, That thou among the wastes of time must go, Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake And die as fast as they see others grow ; And nothing 'gainst Time's scythe can make defence Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.
Page xxxvii - In the name of God, Amen. I, William Shakspeare, of Stratfordupon-Avon, in the county of Warwick, gent., in perfect health and memory, (God be praised !) do make and ordain this my last will and testament in manner and form following ; that is to say : " First, I commend my soul into the hands of God my creator, hoping, and assuredly believing, through the only merits of Jesus Christ my Saviour, to be made partaker of life everlasting ; and my body to the earth whereof it is made.