Liberty plucks justice by the nose; The baby beats the nurse, and quite athwart Goes all decorum.
O sleep! O gentle sleep! Nature's soft nurse.
...too much sadness hath congealed your blood,And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy.
O comfort-killing night, image of hell, Dim register and notary of shame, Black stage for tragedies and murders fell, Vast sin-concealing chaos, nurse of blame!
Time is the nurse and breeder of all good.
O sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frightened thee, 1710. That thou no more will weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness?
This blessèd plot, this earth, this realm, this England This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings, . . . This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land.
Mercy is not itself, that oft looks so; Pardon is still the nurse of second woe.
Melancholy is the nurse of frenzy.
How wayward is this foolish love that, like a testy babe, will scratch the nurse and presently, all humble, kiss the rod.