The Complete Works of William Shakespeare

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Houghton Mifflin, 1906 - 1237 páginas

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Página 213 - The seasons' difference, as the icy fang And churlish chiding of the winter's wind, Which, when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say ' This is no flattery : these are counsellors That feelingly persuade me what I am.' Sweet are the uses of adversity, Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head ; And this our life exempt from public haunt Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones and good in...
Página 30 - When shepherds pipe on oaten straws And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks, When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws, And maidens bleach their summer smocks, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men ; for thus sings he, Cuckoo; Cuckoo, cuckoo: O word of fear, 920 Unpleasing to a married ear!
Página 470 - gainst my fury Do I take part. The rarer a'Ction is In virtue than in vengeance. They being penitent, The sole drift of my purpose doth extend Not a frown further.
Página 406 - Fear no more the frown o' the great: Thou art past the tyrant's stroke. Care no more to clothe and eat; To thee the reed is as the oak: The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this, and come to dust.
Página 68 - Who is Silvia ? what is she, That all our swains commend her ? Holy, fair, and wise is she, The heaven such grace did lend her, That she might admired' be. Is she kind as she is fair ? For beauty lives with kindness : Love doth to her eyes repair, To help him of his blindness; And, being helped, inhabits there. Then to Silvia let us sing, That Silvia is excelling ; She excels each mortal thing, Upon the dull earth dwelling: To her let us garlands bring.
Página 189 - Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more Men were deceivers ever, One foot in sea and one on shore, To one thing constant never : Then sigh not so, but let them go, And be you blithe and bonny, Converting all your sounds of woe Into Hey nonny, nonny.
Página 470 - Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes and groves, And ye that on the sands with printless foot Do chase the ebbing Neptune and do fly him When he comes back ; you demi-puppets that By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make, Whereof the ewe not bites, and you whose pastime Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice To hear the solemn curfew...
Página 532 - Ha, ha ! keep time : how sour sweet music is, When time is broke and no proportion kept ! So is it in the music of men's lives. And here have I the daintiness of ear To check time broke in a disorder'd string ; But for the concord of my state and time Had not an ear to hear my true time broke.
Página 98 - And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks, Which touching but my gentle vessel's side, Would scatter all her spices on the stream, Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks...
Página x - And though this, probably the first essay of his poetry, be lost, yet it is said to have been so very bitter, that it redoubled the prosecution against him to that degree, that he was obliged to leave his business and family in Warwickshire, for some time, and shelter himself in London.

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