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Like the lily That once was mistress of the field and flourished, I'll hang my head and perish.
William Shakespeare
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William Shakespeare
Age: 51 †
Born: 1564
Born: April 26
Died: 1616
Died: April 23
Actor
Dramaturge
Playwright
Poet
Stage Actor
Writer
Stratford-upon-Avon
Warwickshire
Shakespeare
The Bard
The Bard of Avon
William Shakspere
Swan of Avon
Bard of Avon
Shakespere
Shakespear
Shakspeare
Shackspeare
William Shake‐ſpeare
Hang
Field
Fields
Head
Flourished
Like
Lily
Lilies
Perish
Mistress
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My way of life Is fall'n into the sear and yellow leaf.
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O, what men dare do! what men may do! what men daily do, not knowing what they do.
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All offences come from the heart.
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More can I bear than you dare execute.
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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, and dare not (5.3.25-28).
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His steeds to water at those springs On chaliced flowers that lies And winking Mary-buds begin To ope their golden eyes: With every thing that pretty is, My lady sweet, arise.
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He that is robbed, not wanting what is stolen, him not know t, and he's not robbed at all.
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But thou art fair, and at thy birth, dear boy, Nature and Fortune join'd to make thee great: Of Nature's gifts thou mayst with lilies boast, And with the half-blown rose but Fortune, O!
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A good man's fortune may grow out at heels.
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That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect, For slander's mark was ever yet the fair The ornament of beauty is suspect, A crow that flies in heaven's sweetest air.
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The heavenly-harness'd team Begins his golden progress in the east.
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He is well paid that is well satisfied.
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Nymph, in thy orisons be all my sins remembered!
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Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more Or close the wall with our English dead.
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There's rosemary and rue. These keep Seeming and savor all the winter long. Grace and remembrance be to you.
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Swift as shadow, short as any dream
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I have unclasp'd to thee the book even of my secret soul.
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Greatness knows itself.
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We will all laugh at gilded butterflies.
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