Witches Chant (From Macbeth) by William Shakespeare

Round about the couldron go:In the poisones entrails throw.Toad,that under cold stoneDays and nights has thirty-oneSweated venom sleeping got,Boil thou first in the charmed pot.Double,double toil and trouble;Fire burn and cauldron bubble. Fillet of a fenny snake,In the cauldron boil and bake;Eye of newt and toe of frog,Wool of bat and tongue of dog,Adder’s fork

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Winter by William Shakespeare

When icicles hang by the wallAnd Dick the shepherd blows his nailAnd Tom bears logs into the hall,And milk comes frozen home in pail,When Blood is nipped and ways be foul,Then nightly sings the staring owl,Tu-who;Tu-whit, tu-who: a merry note,While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow,And coughing drowns

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William Shakespeare Epitaph by William Shakespeare

Good frend for Iesvs sake forebeare,To digg the dvst encloased heare.Bleste be Middle English the.svg man Middle English that.svg spares thes stones,And cvrst be he Middle English that.svg moves my bones. In modern spelling: Good friend for Jesus sake forbear,To dig the dust enclosed here.Blessed be the man that spares these stones,And cursed be he

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When In Disgrace With Fortune And Men’s Eyes by William Shakespeare

When in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes,I all alone beweep my outcast state,And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,And look upon myself and curse my fate,wishing me like to one more rich in hope,Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,Desiring this man’s art, and that man’s scope,With what I most enjoy contented

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Under The Greenwood Tree by William Shakespeare

Under the greenwood treeWho loves to lie with me,And turn his merry noteUnto the sweet bird’s throat,Come hither, come hither, come hither:Here shall he seeNo enemyBut winter and rough weather. Who doth ambition shun,And loves to live i’ the sun,Seeking the food he eats,And pleas’d with what he gets,Come hither, come hither, come hither:Here shall

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To Be, Or Not To Be by William Shakespeare

To be, or not to be: that is the question:Whether tis nobler in the mind to sufferThe slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;No more; and by a sleep to say we endThe heart-ache and the thousand natural shocksThat flesh

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tazmin

ġham tumhārā thā zindagī goyā tum ko khoyā use nahīñ khoyā fart-e-girya se jī na halkā ho bas yahī soch kar nahīñ royā ashk to ashk haiñ sharāb se bhī maiñ ne ye dāġh-e-dil nahīñ dhoyā maiñ vo kisht-e-nashāt kyoñ kāTūñ jis ko maiñ ne kabhī nahīñ boyā aabla aabla thī jaañ phir bhī bār-e-hastī

safed chhaDiyan

janam kā andhā jo soch aur sach ke rāstoñ par kabhī kabhī koī ḳhvāb dekhe to ḳhvāb meñ bhī azaab dekhe ye shāhrāh-e-hayat jis par hazār-hā qāfile ravāñ haiñ sabhī kī āñkheñ har ek kā dil sabhī ke raste sabhī kī manzil isī hujūm-e-kashāñ-kashāñ meñ tamām chehroñ kī dāstāñ meñ na naam merā na zaat

diwar-e-girya

vo kaisā shobada-gar thā jo masnūī sitāroñ aur naqlī sūrajoñ kī ik jhalak dikhlā ke mere saada dil logoñ kī āñkhoñ ke diye hoñToñ ke jugnū le gayā aur ab ye aalam hai ki mere shahr kā har ik makāñ ik ġhaar kī mānind mahrūm-e-navā hai aur hañstā boltā har shaḳhs ik dīvār-e-girya hai

mujassama

ai siyah-fām hasīna tirā uryāñ paikar kitnī pathrā.ī huī āñkhoñ meñ ġhaltīda hai jaane kis daur-e-alama-nāk se le kar ab tak tū kaḌe vaqt ke zindānoñ meñ ḳhvābīda hai tere sab rañg hayūle ke ye be-jān nuqūsh jaise marbūt ḳhayālāt ke tāne-bāne ye tirī sāñvlī rañgat ye pareshān ḳhutūt bārhā jaise miTāyā ho inheñ duniyā