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Ford, John, English dramatist
(Encyclopedia) Ford, John, 1586–c.1640, English dramatist, b. Devonshire. He went to London to study law but was never called to the bar. The early part of his playwriting career was taken up with…carpe diem
(Encyclopedia) carpe diemcarpe diemkärˈpĕ dēˈĕm [key], a descriptive term for literature that urges readers to live for the moment [from the Latin phrase “seize the day,” used by Horace]. The theme,…America, in music
(Encyclopedia) America, in music, a patriotic hymn of the United States. The words (beginning “My country, 'tis of thee”) were written in 1832 by Samuel Francis Smith while he was a theological…McCourt, Frank
(Encyclopedia) McCourt, Frank, 1930–2009, Irish-American memoirist, b. Brooklyn, N.Y. When McCourt was four his immigrant family returned to Ireland. He dropped out of school at 13 and had saved…A. E. Housman: 'Tis time, I think by Wenlock town
'Tis time, I think by Wenlock town The golden broom should blow; The hawthorn sprinkled up and down Should charge the land with snow.Spring will not wait the loiterer's time Who keeps so…William Shakespeare: Alas! 'tis true, I have gone here and there
Alas! 'tis true, I have gone here and thereAlas! 'tis true, I have gone here and there, And made my self a motley to the view, Gor'd mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear, Made old…William Shakespeare: 'Tis better to be vile than vile esteem'd
'Tis better to be vile than vile esteem'd'Tis better to be vile than vile esteem'd, When not to be receives reproach of being; And the just pleasure lost, which is so deem'd Not by our…A. E. Housman: Oh see how thick the goldcup flowers
Oh see how thick the goldcup flowers Are lying in field and lane, With dandelions to tell the hours That never are told again. Oh may I squire you round the meads And pick you posies gay…A. E. Housman: "Terence, this is stupid stuff:
"Terence, this is stupid stuff: You eat your victuals fast enough; There can't be much amiss, 'tis clear, To see the rate you drink your beer. But oh, good Lord, the verse you make, It gives…William Shakespeare: Henry VIII, Epilogue
Epilogue'Tis ten to one this play can never please All that are here: some come to take their ease, And sleep an act or two; but those, we fear, We have frighted with our trumpets; so, 'tis…