The Works of Shakespeare: the Text Carefully Restored According to the First Editions: Measure for measure; Much ado about nothing; Midsummer-night's dream; Love's labour's lost

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Страница 472 - 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 — 0 word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear.
Страница 292 - I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, Where ox-lips, and the nodding violet grows ; Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, With sweet musk-roses, and with eglantine...
Страница 472 - 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, Unpleasing to a married ear!
Страница 89 - Take, O, take those lips away, That so sweetly were forsworn; And those eyes, the break of day, Lights that do mislead the morn: But my kisses bring again Bring again; Seals of love, but seal'd in vain, Sealed in vain.
Страница 51 - Alas ! alas ! Why, all the souls that were, were forfeit once; And He that might the vantage best have took, Found out the remedy: How would you be, If he, which is the top of judgment, should But judge you as you are? O, think on that; And mercy then will breathe within your lips, Like man new made.
Страница 316 - All school-days' friendship, childhood innocence? We, Hermia, like two artificial gods, Have with our needles created both one flower, Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, Both warbling of one song, both in one key; As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds, Had been incorporate.
Страница 335 - The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen, man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream was.
Страница 282 - Swifter than the moon's sphere; And I serve the Fairy Queen, To dew her orbs upon the green. The cowslips tall her pensioners be; 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.

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