A Drinking Song
Come, thou monarch of the vine, Plumpy Bacchus, with pink eyne! In thy fats our cares be drowned, With thy grapes our hairs be crowned. Cup us, till the world go round, Cup us, till the world go round!
Category William Shakespeare
A Dream of Wrecks
O Lord! methought, what pain it was to drown! What dreadful noise of water in mine ears! What sights of ugly death within mine eyes! Methought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks; A thousand men that fishes gnaw’d upon; Wedges…
A Casket Song
Tell me, where is fancy bred, Or in the heart, or in the head? How begot, how nourished? III, ii Reply, reply. It is engend’red in the eyes, With gazing fed; and fancy dies In the cradle where it lies.…
” Sweet boy,” she says, “this night I’ll waste in sorrow”
“Sweet boy,” she says, “this night I’ll waste in sorrow, For my sick heart commands mine eyes to watch. Tell me, Love’s master, shall we meet to-morrow? Say, shall we? shall we? wilt thou make the match?” He tells her,…
“Fondling,” she saith, “since I have hemmed thee here
“Fondling,’ she saith, “since I have hemmed thee here Within the circuit of this ivory pale, I’ll be a park, and thou shalt be my deer: Feed where thou wilt, on mountain or in dale; Graze on my lips, and…
Yon king’s to me like to my father’s picture
Yon king’s to me like to my father’s picture, Which tells me in that glory once he was– Had princes sit like stars about his throne, And he the sun for them to reverence. None that beheld him but, like…
Yet here, Laertes! aboard, aboard, for shame!
Yet here, Laertes? Aboard, aboard, for shame! The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail, And you are stayed for. There—my blessing with thee. And these few precepts in thy memory Look thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue,…
Yet better thus, and known to be contemned
Yet, better thus, and known to be contemned, Than still contemned and flattered. To be worst, The lowest and most dejected thing of fortune, Stands still in esperance, lives not in fear. The lamentable change is from the best; The…
Lord, how mine eyes throw gazes to the east!
Lord, how mine eyes throw gazes to the east! My heart doth charge the watch; the morning rise Doth cite each moving sense from idle rest. Not daring trust the office of mine eyes, While Philomela sits and sings, I…
Good night, good rest. Ah, neither be my share:
Good night, good rest. Ah, neither be my share: She bade good night that kept my rest away; And daff’d me to a cabin hang’d with care, To descant on the doubts of my decay. ‘Farewell,’ quoth she, ‘and come…