Oft expectation fails, and most oft there FE In the great hand of God I stand, and Against the undivulg'd pretence I fight Macbeth. Act II, Sc. 3. E, ignorant of ourselves, WEB Beg often our own harms, which the Deny us for our good; so find we profit Antony and Cleopatra. Act II, Sc. 1. LL other doubts, by time let them be ALL Fortune brings in some boats that are not steer'd. The Hand of God His His Indul gence The Dawn Prayer Tears Calm after Storm THE HERE be some sports are painful, and their labour Delight in them sets off; some kinds of base ness Are nobly undergone, and most poor matters The Tempest. Act III, Sc. 1. OW I want NOW Spirits to enforce, art to enchant; And my ending is despair, Unless I be relieved by prayer, Which pierces so, that it assaults The Tempest. Epilogue. JOY OW much better it is to weep at joy, H than to joy at weeping! Much Ado About Nothing. Act I, Sc. 1. F after every tempest come such calms, I Mayr wind blow till they have waken'd death! And let the labouring bark climb hills of seas As hell's from heaven! If it were now to die, Othello. Act II, Sc. 1. is as a gum, which oozes OUR Poesy is as 'tis nourish'd. i' the flint Poetry The fire Shows not till it be struck; our gentle flame Timon of Athens. Act I, Sc. I. HE music of the spheres! . . THE Most heavenly music! It nips me into listening, and thick slumber Pericles. Act V, Sc. I. Music Ecstasy Mankind G IVE me a gash, put me to present pain; me O'erbear the shores of my mortality, H ERE are your sons again The benediction of these covering heavens Fall on their heads like dew! for they are worthy To inlay heaven with stars. Cymbeline. Act V, Sc. 5. How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world, That has such people in't! The Tempest. Act V, Sc. 1. COUNTRY LIFE UR courtiers say all's savage but at OUR court; Experience, O, thou disprov'st report! The imperious seas breed monsters; for the dish Poor tributary rivers as sweet fish. Cymbeline. Act IV, Sc. 2. DID you but know the city's usuries, And felt them knowingly; the art o' the As hard to leave as keep; whose top to climb The fear's as bad as falling; the toil o' the war, And hath as oft a slanderous epitaph Cymbeline. Act III, Sc. 3. Simplicity The Lost |