That strain again;—it had a dying fall: Oh, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south, Stealing, and giving odour.-Enough; no more; O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou! Receiveth as the sea, naught enters there, But falls into abatement and low price, Woman's Love. DUKE, CESARIO. Duke. There is no woman's sides, Cesario. Ay, but I know,— Duke. What dost thou know? Cesario. Too well what love women to men may owe: In faith, they are as true of heart as we. My father had a daughter loved a man, As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman, I should your lordship. Duke. And what's her history? Cesario. A blank, my lord: she never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek: she pined in thought; She sat like patience on a monument, Smiling at grief. Was not this love, indeed? MACBETH. The Character of MACBETH. Lady Macbeth... . Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be What thou art promised.-Yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o' the milk of human kindness, To catch the nearest way. Thou wouldst be great; but without What thou wouldst highly, That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false, And yet wouldst wrongly win: thou'dst have, great Glamis, That which cries, Thus thou must do, if thou have it; And that which rather thou dost fear to do, Than wishest should be undone. Hie thee hither, That I may pour my spirits in thine ear; And chastise, with the valour of my tongue, All that impedes thee from the golden round, MACBETH'S Soliloquy on DUNCAN's Murder. If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere well And pity, like a naked new-born babe Upon the sightless couriers of the air, Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, That tears shall drown the wind.-I have no spur To prick the sides of my intent, but only Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself, And falls on the other side. Outliving Reputation. I have lived long enough: my way of life Is fall'n into the sear, the yellow leaf: And that which should accompany old age, As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, I must not look to have; but, in their stead, Curses, not loud, but deep, mouth-honour, breath Which the poor heart would fain deny, but dare not. To-morrow. To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM. Youthful Friendship. INJURIOUS Hermia! most ungrateful maid! Have you consṛired, have you with these contrived To bait me with this foul derision? Is all the counsel, that we two have shared, The sisters' vows, the hours that we have spent, All school-days' friendship, childhood innocence ? Have with our neelds created both one flower, Two lovely berries moulded on one stem: Poetic Imaginings. Lovers, and madmen, have such seething brains, Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend More than cool reason ever comprehends. The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, Are of imagination all compact: One sees more devils than vast hell can hold; That is, the madman: the lover, all as frantic, Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt: The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven; The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen |