William Shakespeare (1564Â¬1616), British poet

#1

Blow, blow, thou winter wind!
Thou art not so unkind
As mans ingratitude;
Thy tooth is not so keen
Because thou art not seen,
Although thy breath be rude.

A fool, A fool! I met a fool the forest,
A motley fool. A miserable world!
As I do live by food, I met a fool,
Who laid him down and basked him in the sun,
And railed on Lady Fortune in good terms,
In good set terms, and yet a motley fool.

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
Thou dost not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot:
Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp
As friend remembered not.

#2

1st Murderer. Where¢¢¬¢ž¢s thy conscience now?...
2nd Murderer. I¢¢¬¢ž¢ll not meddle with it. It makes a man a coward.... It fills a man full of obstacles. It made me once restore a purse of gold that by chance I found. It beggars any man that keeps it. It is turned out of towns and cities for a dangerous thing, and every man that means to live well endeavors to trust to himself and live without it.

#3

I am a tainted wether of the flock,
Meetest for death; the weakest kind of fruit
Drops earliest to the ground, and so let me.

I have much ado to know myself.

Herein Fortune shows herself more kind
Than is her custom. It is still her use
To let the wretched man outlive his wealth,
To view with hollow eye and wrinkled brow
An age of poverty; from which lingering penance
Of such misery doth she cut me off.

The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.

An evil soul producing holy witness
Is like a villain with a smiling cheek,
A goodly apple rotten at the heart.

In sooth, I know not why I am so sad.

#4

There is a willow grows aslant a brook
That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream.

To my sick soul, as sin¢¢¬¢ž¢s true nature is,
Each toy seems prologue to some great amiss.
So full of artless jealousy is guilt,
It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.

Thou turn’st my eyes into my very soul,
And there I see such black and grained spots
As will not leave their tinct.

This is mere madness,
And thus a while the fit will work on him.
Anon, as patient as the female dove
When that her golden couplets are disclosed,
His silence will sit drooping.

One woe doth tread upon another’s heel,
So fast they follow.

Do not for ever with thy vailed lids
Seek for thy noble father in the dust.
Thou know’st ‘tis common, all that lives must die,
Passing through nature to eternity.

Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted color off.

Sweets to the sweet, farewell!

#5

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#6

But your discretions better can persuade
Than I am able to instruct or teach,
And therefore, as we hither came in peace,
So let us still continue peace and love.

Civil dissension is a viperous worm
That gnaws the bowels of the commonwealth.

I can express no kinder sign of love
Than this kind kiss.

O Lord that lends me life,
Lend me a heart replete with thankfulness!

Let never day nor night unhallowed pass,
But still remember what the Lord hath done.

Now God be praised, that to believing souls
Gives light in darkness, comfort in despair!

How irksome is this music to my heart!
When such strings jar, what hope of harmony?

In thy face I see
The map of honor, truth, and loyalty.

#7

Please move this thread I had brainlock and started this topic in the wrong area. Sorry!

#8

I see my reputation is at stake,
My fame is shrewdly gored.

The dragon wing of night o¢¢¬¢ž¢erspreads the earth.

Tis certain, greatness, once fallen out with fortune,
Must fall out with men too. What the declined is,
He shall as soon read in the eyes of others
As feel in his own fall.

My mind is troubled, like a fountain stirred,
And I myself see not the bottom of it.

Why, my cheese, my digestion, why hast thou not served thyself in to my table, so many meals?