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beauty Ben Jonson blood breath character cheeks Collatine comedies Comp conj dead dear death dost doth edition eyes fair false Falstaff fancy fear flower fool foul Francis Meres gentle give Gorboduc grace grief hand hast hate hath heart heaven Henry honour hour John John Shakespeare King kiss labour lips live London look Lord Love's Love's Labour's Lost Lucrece lust Marlowe mind miracle-plays moral-play Muse nature never night passion Passionate Pilgrim pity play poem poet poet's poor Porrex praise Preface Quarto queen quoth rhyming Richard Richard Barnfield Richard Burbage Shake shalt shame Sonnets sorrow soul speak speare stage Stratford Stratford-upon-Avon Susanna Hall sweet Tarquin tears tell theatres thee thine thing thou art thought thyself Time's tongue tragedy true truth unto Venus and Adonis verse weep William Shakespeare Wilmcote write youth
Page 11 - My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, So flew'd, so sanded ; and their heads are hung With ears that sweep away the morning dew ; Crook-knee'd, and dew-lapp'd like Thessalian bulls ; Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouth like bells, Each under each. A cry more tuneable Was never holla'd to, nor cheer'd with horn, In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly : Judge when you hear.
Page 32 - In their gold coats spots you see; Those be rubies, fairy favours, In those freckles live their savours : I must go seek some dewdrops here And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.
Page 253 - In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west; Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire, That on the ashes of his youth doth lie, As the death-bed whereon it must expire, Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by. This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong, To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
Page 246 - gainst his glory fight, And Time that gave doth now his gift confound. Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth, And delves the parallels in beauty's brow, Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth, And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow. And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand, Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.
Page 249 - O, none, unless this miracle have might, That in black ink my love may still shine bright.
Page 268 - TO me, fair friend, you never can be old, For as you were when first your eye I eyed, Such seems your beauty still . Three winters cold Have from the forests shook three summers' pride, Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn'd In process of the seasons have I seen, Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn'd, Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green. Ah, yet doth beauty, like a...
Page 271 - To leave for nothing all thy sum of good ; For nothing this wide universe I call, Save thou, my Rose ; in it thou art my all. CX. Alas ! 'tis true, I have gone here and there. And made myself a motley to the view ; Gor'd mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear.
Page 28 - Like to the senators of the antique Rome, With the plebeians swarming at their heels, Go forth and fetch their conquering Caesar in : As, by a lower but loving likelihood, Were now the general of our gracious empress, As in good time he may, from Ireland coming, Bringing rebellion broached on his sword, How many would the peaceful city quit, To welcome him ! much more, and much more cause, Did they this Harry.
Page 196 - 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.