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Love's heralds should be thoughts, Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams Driving back shadows over low'ring hills. Therefore do nimble-pinioned doves draw Love, And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings.
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
Thoughts
Driving
Swift
Heralds
Wind
Lows
Shadows
Doves
Times
Ten
Ring
Glide
Back
Wings
Hath
Nimble
Love
Draws
Hills
Beams
Shadow
Rings
Cupid
Sun
Draw
Dove
Therefore
Faster
Beam
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Bell, book and candle shall not drive me back, When gold and silver becks me to come on.
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But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on, Leaving no tract behind.
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As love is full of unbefitting strains, All wanton as a child, skipping and vain, Form'd by the eye and therefore, like the eye, Full of strange shapes, of habits and of forms, Varying in subjects as the eye doth roll To every varied object in his glance
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O, what damned minutes tells he o'er Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet fondly loves!
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We were not born to sue, but to command.
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In maiden meditation, fancy free.
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By God, I cannot flatter, I do defy The tongues of soothers! but a braver place In my heart's love hath no man than yourself. Nay, task me to my word approve me, lord.
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Guiltiness will speak, though tongues were out of use
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Come, Let's have one other gaudy night. Call to me All my sad captains. Fill our bowls once more. Let's mock the midnight bell.
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How much salt water thrown away in waste/ To season love, that of it doth not taste.
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But no perfection is so absolute, That some impurity doth not pollute.
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We must not stint Our necessary actions in the fear To cope malicious censurers, which ever, As rav'nous fishes, do a vessel follow That is new-trimmed, but benefit no further Than vainly longing.
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Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits.
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In struggling with misfortunes lies the true proof of virtue.
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But the strong base and building of my love is as the very centre of the earth, drawing all things to it.
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I would we were all of one mind, and one mind good.
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Twere to consider too curiously, to consider so.
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No might nor greatness in mortality Can censure 'scape back- wounding calumny The whitest virtue strikes. What king so strong Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue?
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Pause awhile, And let my counsel sway you.
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