| |
| |
| William Shakespeare. (15641616) (continued) |
| |
| 575 |
| It adds a precious seeing to the eye. |
| Loves Labour s Lost. Act iv. Sc. 3. |
| 576 |
As sweet and musical As bright Apollos lute, strung with his hair; 1 And when Love speaks, the voice of all the gods Makes heaven drowsy with the harmony. |
| Loves Labour s Lost. Act iv. Sc. 3. |
| 577 |
From womens eyes this doctrine I derive: They sparkle still the right Promethean fire; They are the books, the arts, the academes, That show, contain, and nourish all the world. |
| Loves Labour s Lost. Act iv. Sc. 3. |
| 578 |
| He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument. |
| Loves Labour s Lost. Act v. Sc. 1. |
| 579 |
| Priscian! a little scratched, t will serve. |
| Loves Labour s Lost. Act v. Sc. 1. |
| 580 |
| They have been at a great feast of languages, and stolen the scraps. |
| Loves Labour s Lost. Act v. Sc. 1. |
| 581 |
| In the posteriors of this day, which the rude multitude call the afternoon. |
| Loves Labour s Lost. Act v. Sc. 1. |
| 582 |
They have measured many a mile To tread a measure with you on this grass. |
| Loves Labour s Lost. Act v. Sc. 2. |
| 583 |
| Let me take you a button-hole lower. |
| Loves Labour s Lost. Act v. Sc. 2. |
| 584 |
| I have seen the day of wrong through the little hole of discretion. |
| Loves Labour s Lost. Act v. Sc. 2. |
| 585 |
A jests prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it. |
| Loves Labour s Lost. Act v. Sc. 2. |
| 586 |
When daisies pied and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver-white, And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with delight, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men. |
| Loves Labour s Lost. Act v. Sc. 2. |