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FROM MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR.

FiE on sinful fantasy!
Fie on lust and luxury !
Lust is but a bloody fire,
Kindled with unchaste desire,
Fed in heart; whose flames aspire,
As thoughts do blow them, higher and higher.
Pinch him, fairies, mutually ;

Pinch him for his villany ;
Pinch him, and burn him, and turn him about,
Till candles, and star-light, and moonshine be out.

FROM TWELFTH NIGHT.

Come away, come away, death,
And in sad cypress let me be laid ;

Fly away, fly away, breath;
I am slain by a fair cruel maid.
My shroud of white, stuck all with yew,

O prepare it;
My part of death no one so true

Did share it.

Not a flower, not a flower sweet, On my

black coffin let there be strown; Not a friend, not a friend greet

My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown;
A thousand thousand sighs to save,

Lay me, O, where
Sad true lover never find my grave,

To weep there.

FROM MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING.

Siga no more, ladies, sigh no more,

Men were deceivers ever:
One foot in sea, and one on shore;
To one thing constant never:

Then sigh not so,

But let them go,
And be you blithe and bonny;
Converting all your sounds of woe

Into, Hey nonny, nonny.

Sing no more ditties, sing no mo

Of dumps so dull and heavy;
The fraud of men was ever so,
Since summer first was leavy.

Then sigh not so, &c.

PARDON, Goddess of the night,
Those that slew thy virgin knight:
For the which, with songs of woe,
Round about her tomb they go.

Midnight, assist our moan;
Help us to sigh and groan,

Heavily, heavily:
Graves, yawn, and yield your dead,
Till death be uttered,

Heavily, heavily.

FROM LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST.

I.

When daisies pied, and violets blue,

And lady-smocks all silver white,
And cuckoo buds of yellow hue,

Do paint the meadows with delight,
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!

II.

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!

III.

When icicles hang by the wall,

And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, And Tom bears logs into the hall,

And milk comes frozen home in pail, When blood is nipp'd and ways be foul, Then nightly sings the staring owl,

To-who;
Tu-whit, To-who, a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.

IV.

When all aloud the wind doth blow,

And coughing drowns the parson's saw, And birds sit brooding in the snow,

And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, Then nightly sings the staring owl,

To-who;
Tu-whit, to-who, a merry note,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.

FROM THE MERCHANT OF VENICE.

TELL me, where is fancy bred,
Or in the heart, or in the head ?

How begot, how nourished ?

Reply, reply.

It is engender'd in the eyes,
With gazing fed ; and fancy dies
In the cradle where it lies :

Let us all ring fancy's knell ;
I'll begin it,—ding, dong, bell.

Ding, dong, bell.

FROM AS YOU LIKE IT.

UNDER the greenwood tree
Who loves to lie with me,
And tune his merry note

Unto the sweet bird's throat,
Come hither, come hither, come hither;

Here shall he see

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Who doth ambition shun,
And loves to live i’ the sun,
Seeking the food he eats,

And pleas'd with what he gets,
Come hither, come hither, come hither!

Here shall he see

No enemy,
But winter and rough weather.

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