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And thou, all-shaking thunder,
53 Methinks the wind hath spoke aloud at land; A fuller blast ne'er shook our battlements: If it hath ruffian'd so upon the sea, What ribs of oak, when mountains melta on them, Can hold the mortise? Do but stand upon the foaming shore, The chiding billow seems to pelt the clouds; The wind-shaked surge, with high and monstrous main, Seems to cast water on the burning bear," And quench the guards of th' ever-fixed pole: I never did like molestation view On the enchafed flood.
The yesty waves Confound and swallow navigation up.
In such a night,
In such a night,
In such a night,
9 Meet would probably be better. The constellation near the polar star.
56 Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forth In strange eruptions: oft the teeming earth Is with a kind of cholic pinch'd and vex'd By the imprisoning of unruly wind Within her womb; which for enlargement striving, Shakes the old beldame earth, and topples down Steeples and moss-grown towers.
59 The bay-trees in our country are all wither’d, And meteors fright the fixed stars of heaven; The pale-faced moon looks bloody on the earth, And lean-look'd prophets whisper fearful change; Rich men look sad, and ruffians dance and leap,– The one, in fear to lose what they enjoy, The other, to enjoy by rage and war. 17-ii. 4.
60 Well-apparell'd April on the heel Of limping Winter treads.
Flora Peering in April's front.
13-iv. 3. 62
The violets now
An envious sneaping frost, That bites the first-born infants of the spring.
The pleached bower,
7-iv. l. 66
This guest of summer, The temple-haunting martlet, does approve, By his loved mansionry, that the heaven's breath Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze, buttress, Nor coigne of vantage, but this bird hath made His pendant bed, and procreant cradle: Where they Most breed and haunt, I have observed, the air Is delicate.
15-i. 6. 67
The year growing ancient, Not yet on summer's death, nor on the birth Of trembling winter.
69 Go, bind thou up yon dangling apricocks, Which, like unruly children, make the sire
u Convenient corner,
Stoop with oppression of their prodigal weight:
We at time of year
All superfluous branches
17--iii. 4. 70
Behold the earth hath roots;
71 I know a bank whereon the wild thyme blows, Where ox-lips' and the nodding violet grows; Quite over-canopied with lush" woodbine, With sweet musk-roses, and with eglantine: There sleeps Titania, some time of the night, Lull’d in these flowers with dances and delight; And there the snake throws her enamell’d skin, Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in. 7--ii. 2.
Here's flowers for you;
bold oxlips, and
75 I am that merry wanderer of the night. I jest to Oberon, and make him smile, When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile, Neighing in likeness of a filly foal: And sometime lurk I in a gossip's bowl, In very likeness of a roasted crab; And, when she drinks, against her lips I bob, And on her wither'd dew-lap pour the ale. The wisest aunt," telling the saddest tale, Sometime for three-foot stool mistaketh me; Then slip I from her seat, down topples she, And tailor cries, and falls into a cough; And then the whole quire hold their hips and loffe; And waxen in their mirth, and neeze, and swear, A merrier hour was never wasted there. 7-ii. 1.
Y An innocent old woman.