To this urn let those repair That are either true or fair; For these dead birds sigh a prayer. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Yet nor the lays of birds nor the sweet smell Of different flowers in odour and in hue Could make me any… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Some say that ever 'gainst the season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long:… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
It was a lover and his lass, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, That o'er the green corn-field… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Tis but a base, ignoble mind That mounts no higher than a bird can soar. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
No, no, no, no! Come, let's away to prison: We two alone will sing like birds i' the cage: When thou dost… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Under the greenwood tree, Who loves to lie with me And tune his merry note, Unto the sweet bird's throat; Come hither,… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
For the poor wren (The most diminutive of birds) will fight, Her young ones in her nest, against the owl. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
The bird that hath been limed in a bush, with trembling wings misdoubteth every bush. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Nor shall this peace sleep with her; but as when The bird of wonder dies, the maiden phoenix, Her ashes new-create another… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
King Henry: But what a point, my lord, your falcon made, And what a pitch she flew above the rest! To see… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on, Leaving no tract behind. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
The eagle suffers little birds to sing, And is not careful what they mean thereby, Knowing that with the shadow of his… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Look, the world's comforter, with weary gait, His day's hot task hath ended in the west: The owl, night's herald, shrieks-'tis very… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Not an angel of the air, Bird melodious or bird fair, Be absent hence! — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
The Brightness of her cheek would shame those stars as daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven would through the airy… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Look what thy soul holds dear, imagine it To lie that way thou goest, not whence thou com'st. Suppose the singing birds… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Like a red morn that ever yet betokened, Wreck to the seaman, tempest to the field, Sorrow to the shepherds, woe unto… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
When daffodils begin to peer, With heigh! the doxy, over the dale, Why, then comes in the sweet o' the year; For… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
In springtime, the only pretty ring time Birds sing, hey ding A-ding, a-ding Sweet lovers love the spring— — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
I heard a bird so sing, Whose music, to my thinking, pleased the king. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
To be generous, guiltless, and of a free disposition is to take those things for bird-bolts that you deem cannon-bullets. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
We must not make a scarecrow of the law, Setting it up to fear the birds of prey, And let it keep… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Time hath not yet so dried this blood of mine, Nor age so eat up my invention, Nor fortune made such havoc of my… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Divers philosophers hold that the lips is parcel of the mouth. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
“Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs; Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
I, measuring his affections by my own, Which then most sought where most might not be found, Being one too many by my weary… — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Ask God for temp'rance. That's th' appliance only Which your disease requires. — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
“Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies Which busy care draws in the brains of men; Therefore thou sleep’st so sound. Julius Caesar (2.1.248-251)” — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
Have you not heard it said full oft, A woman's nay doth stand for naught? — William Shakespeare Copy Share Image
