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Click on the verses to see them in context. Shakespeare's plays are available from the Gutenberg Projet.


Thy beauty hath made me effeminate

 Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound. Sweet Blunt, make some good means to speak with him The sweetest sleep and fairest-boding dreams Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! What doth her beauty serve but as a note Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst. A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit. His grace looks cheerfully and smooth this morning; From the fair forehead of an innocent love, And with some sweet oblivious antidote You do not give the cheer: the feast is sold Our ancient word of courage, fair Saint George,