![]() Of a rude stream that must for ever hide me. My high-blown prideĪt length broke under me, and now has left me, Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders,īut far beyond my depth. His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root,Īnd then he falls, as I do. The third day comes a frost, a killing frost,Īnd, when he thinks, good easy man, full surely ![]() The tender leaves of hopes to-morrow blossoms,Īnd bears his blushing honours thick upon him This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth So farewell to the little good you bear me.įarewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness!.Here must I stay, and here my life must end. The sands are number'd that make up my life.Let life be short: else shame will be too long.To spend that shortness basely were too long, O gentlemen, the time of life is short!.And a man's life's no more than to say "One.".With this regard, their currents turn awry, Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought Īnd enterprises of great pith and moment, Thus conscience does make cowards of us all Than fly to others that we know naught of? The undiscover'd country, from whose bournĪnd makes us rather bear those ills we have With a bare bodkin? who would these fardels bear,īut that the dread of something after death,. That patient merit of the unworthy takes, The pangs of despis'd love, the law's delay, The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,įor who would bear the whips and scorns of time, To sleep, perchance to dream:-ay, there's the rub įor in that sleep of death what dreams may come, That flesh is heir to,-'tis a consummationĭevoutly to be wish'd. The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,Īnd by opposing end them?-To die, to sleep,. The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer ![]()
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