Others

There is no vice so simple but assumes Some mark of virtue on his outward parts.

In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt But, being season’d with a gracious voice, Obscures the show of evil?

Makes a swanlike end, Fading in music.

Makes a swanlike end, Fading in music.

And the vile squealing of the wry-neck’d fife.

Such water-colors to impaint his cause.

Such water-colors to impaint his cause.

To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus And witch the world with noble horsemanship.

Baited like eagles having lately bath’d… As full of spirit as the month of May, And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer.

A deal of skimble-skamble stuff.

Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night, And pay no worship to the garish sun.

How silver-sweet sound lovers’ tongues by night, Like softest music to attending ears!

He jests at scars, that never felt a wound. But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun!

It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop’s ear; Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!

So musical a discord, such sweet thunder.

Since once I sat upon a promontory, And heard a mermaid on a dolphin’s back Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath, That the rude sea grew civil at her song, And certain stars shot madly from their spheres To hear the sea-maid’s music.

Mount, mount, my soul! thy seat is up on high, Whilst my gross flesh sinks downward, here to die.

This music mads me: let it sound no more.

When time is broke and no proportion kept! So is it in the music of men’s lives.

As in a theater, the eyes of men, After a well-grac’d actor leaves the stage, Are idly bent on him that enters next, Thinking his prattle to be tedious.

Enforce attention like deep harmony.

All places that the eye of heaven visits Are to a wise man ports and happy havens. Teach thy necessity to reason thus; There is no virtue like necessity. Think not the king did banish thee, But thou the king.

How long a time lies in one little word!

Truth hath a quiet breast.