smell too much of that writer Ovid and that writer Metamorphosis and talk too much of Proserpina and Jupiter. Why, here's our fellow Shakespeare puts them all down. Aye, and Ben Jonson too. O that B. J. is a pestilent fellow, he brought up Horace giving the poete a pill, but our fellow, Shakespeare, hath given him a purge that made him beray his credit.
Shikspur, Shikspur! Who wrote it?
No, I never read Shikspur.
Then you have an immense pleasure to come.
Scorn not the Sonnet. Critic, you have frowned,
Mindless of its just honours; with this key
Shakespeare unlocked his heart.
SHAME
Maggior difetto men vergogna lava.
Less shame a greater fault would palliate.
Love taught him shame, and shame, with love at
strife,
Soon taught the sweet civilities of life.
The only art her guilt to cover,
To hide her shame from every eye,
To give repentance to her lover,
And wring his bosom, is—to die.
Na) simul pudere quod non oportet coeperit;
quod oportet non pudebit.
As soon as she (woman) begins to be ashamed
of what she ought not, she will not be ashamed
of what she ought.
Pessimus quidem pudor vel est parsimonise vel frugalitatis.
The worst kind of shame is being ashamed of frugality or poverty.
Pudet haec opprobria nobis
Et dici potuisse et non potuisse repelli.
I am not ashamed that these reproaches can
be cast upon us, and that they can not be repelled.
Here shame dissuades him, there his fear prevails,
And each by turns his aching heart assails.
Nam ego ilium periisse duco, cui quidem periit pudor.
I count him lost, who is lost to shame.
O shame! Where is thy blush?
Hamlet. Act III. Sc. 4. L. 82.
All is confounded, all!
Beproach and everlasting shame
Site mocking in our plumes.
He was not born to shame:
Upon his brow shame was asham'd to sit;
For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown'd
Sole monarch of the universal earth.
We live in an atmosphere of shame. We are
ashamed of everything that is real about us;
ashamed of ourselves, of our relatives, of our
incomes, of our accents, of our opinion, of our
experience, just as we are ashamed of our naked
skins.
Bernard Shaw—Man and Superman. Act I.
SHAMROCK
Trifolium Repens
I'll seek a four-leaved shamrock in all the fairy dells,
And if I find the charmed leaves, oh, how I'll weave my spells!
O, the Shamrock, the green, immortal Shamrock!
Chosen leaf
Of Bard and Chief,
Old Erin's native Shamrock.
SHEEP
A black sheep is a biting beast.
Bastard's Chrestoleros. P. 90. (1598)
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{{Hoyt quote
| num = 23
| text = <poem>She walks—the lady of my delight—
A sheperdess of sheep.
Her flocks are thoughts. She keeps them white;
She guards them from the steep.
She feeds them on the fragrant height,
And folds them in for sleep.