Verse > Anthologies > Ralph Waldo Emerson, ed. > Parnassus: An Anthology of Poetry
Ralph Waldo Emerson, comp. (1803–1882).  Parnassus: An Anthology of Poetry.  1880.
By William Shakespeare (1564–1616)
(From Macbeth.)

METHOUGHT I heard a voice cry, “Sleep no more!
Macbeth doth murder sleep,”—the innocent sleep,
Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleeve of care,
The death of each day’s life, sore labor’s bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature’s second course,        5
Chief nourisher in life’s feast,—
Still it cried, “Sleep no more!” to all the house:
“Glamis hath murdered sleep; and therefore Cawdor
Shall sleep no more, Macbeth shall sleep no more!”
*        *        *        *        *
(From Macbeth.)

Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above
Put on their instruments.
*        *        *        *        *
(From Antony and Cleopatra.)

WHEN we in our viciousness grow hard,
O misery on’t! the wise gods seal our eyes;
In our own filth, drop our clear judgments; make us        15
Adore our errors, laugh at us, while we strut
To our confusion.
*        *        *        *        *
(From Antony and Cleopatra.)

  I SEE men’s judgments are
A parcel of their fortunes; and things outward
To draw the inward quality after them        20
To suffer all alike.
*        *        *        *        *
(From King Lear.)

THE GODS are just, and of our pleasant vices
Make instruments to scourge us.
*        *        *        *        *
(From Measure for Measure.)

Thou rather, with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt        25
Split’st the unwedgeable and gnarlèd oak,
Than the soft myrtle;—O, but man, proud man!
Drest in a little brief authority,
Most ignorant of what he’s most assured,
His glassy essence,—like an angry ape,        30
Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven,
As make the angels weep.

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