pull down to refresh
Let therefore nought that great is, therein glorie, / Sith so small thing his happiness may varie.
Edmund Spenser, Complaints, Containing
reply
Till swollen with cunning, of a self-conceit,
His waxen wings did mount above his reach,
And, melting, Heavens conspir'd his overthrow.
Christoper Marlowe, The Tragical History
reply
Sweet Thames, run softly till I end my song.
Edmund Spenser
reply
Life... is a paradise to what we fear of death.
William Shakespeare, Measure for Measure