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William Shakespeare: How heavy do I journey on the way
How heavy do I journey on the wayHow heavy do I journey on the way, When what I seek, my weary travel's end, Doth teach that ease and that repose to say, 'Thus far the miles are measured from…William Shakespeare: Thus can my love excuse the slow offence
Thus can my love excuse the slow offenceThus can my love excuse the slow offence Of my dull bearer when from thee I speed: From where thou art why should I haste me thence? Till I return, of…William Shakespeare: So am I as the rich, whose blessed key
So am I as the rich, whose blessed keySo am I as the rich, whose blessed key, Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure, The which he will not every hour survey, For blunting the fine…William Shakespeare: What is your substance, whereof are you made
What is your substance, whereof are you madeWhat is your substance, whereof are you made, That millions of strange shadows on you tend? Since every one, hath every one, one shade, And you but…William Shakespeare: O! how much more doth beauty beauteous seem
O! how much more doth beauty beauteous seemO! how much more doth beauty beauteous seem By that sweet ornament which truth doth give. The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem For that sweet…William Shakespeare: Not marble, nor the gilded monuments
Not marble, nor the gilded monumentsNot marble, nor the gilded monuments Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme; But you shall shine more bright in these contents Than unswept stone,…William Shakespeare: Sweet love, renew thy force; be it not said
Sweet love, renew thy force; be it not saidSweet love, renew thy force; be it not said Thy edge should blunter be than appetite, Which but to-day by feeding is allay'd, To-morrow sharpened in…William Shakespeare: Being your slave what should I do but tend
Being your slave what should I do but tendBeing your slave what should I do but tend, Upon the hours, and times of your desire? I have no precious time at all to spend; Nor services to do,…William Shakespeare: That god forbid, that made me first your slave
That god forbid, that made me first your slaveThat god forbid, that made me first your slave, I should in thought control your times of pleasure, Or at your hand the account of hours to crave…William Shakespeare: If there be nothing new, but that which is
If there be nothing new, but that which isIf there be nothing new, but that which is Hath been before, how are our brains beguil'd, Which labouring for invention bear amiss The second burthen…