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From our earliest and reluctant schoolhood exposures to the works of William Shakespeare, all of us have been grounded in the thought that in those was the English language at its grandest.
Truly, none would deny that when Mr. Shakespeare took off in soaring majesty, the simperings of others were like the offensive exhaust fumes left behind. What fine command of language William had when he was going good ! Remember the stirring battle-cry of King Henry V before Agincourt?
. . . And gentlemen in England now a-bed Shall think themselves accursed they were not here, And hold their manhoods cheap whilst any speaks That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day. Or how delicately tender the closing lines of the eighteenth sonnet: Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st: So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, So long lives
WOOLDRIDGE WE. Shakespeare Exposed. Arch Dermatol. 1962;86(1):72–73. doi:10.1001/archderm.1962.01590070078013
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