But I will fit it with some better time.
By heaven, Hubert, I'm almost asham'd
To say what good respect I have of thee.

I am much bounden to your majesty.

King JOHN.

Good friend, thou hast no cause to say so yet,—
But thou shalt have-and creep time ne'er so slow,
Yet it shall come for me to do thee good.

I had a thing to say---but let it go:

The sun is in the heav'n, and the proud day,
Attended with the pleasures of the world,
Is all too wanton, and too full of gaudes,
To give me audience. If the midnight bell
Did with his iron tongue and brazen mouth
Sound one unto the drowsy race of night;
If this same were a church-yard where we stand,
And thou possessed with a thousand wrongs;
Or if that surly spirit melancholy

Had bak'd thy blood, and made it heavy thick,
Which else runs trickling up and down the veins,

Making that idiot laughter keep men's eyes,
And strain their cheeks to idle merriment,

(A passion hateful to my purposes ;)

Or if thou couldest see me without eyes,


Hear me without thine ears, and make reply
Without a tongue, using conceit alone,

Without eyes, ears, and harmful sound of words;
Then, in despite of broad-ey'd watchful day,
I would into thy bosom pour my thoughts:
But ah! I will not---yet I love thee well ;
And, by my troth, I think thou lov'st me well.





The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,

Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heav'n
And, as imagination bodies forth

The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen

Turns them to shape, and gives to airy nothing

A local habitation and a name.

Midsummer Night's Dream.


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