SHALL.—Shall remain!
Hear you this Triton of the minnows? mark you
His absolute shall?

Shakespeare.—Coriolanus, Act III. Scene 1. (To Sicinius.)

SHAME.—O shame! where is thy blush?

Shakespeare.—Hamlet, Act III. Scene 4. (To his Mother.)

SHAPE.—The other shape,
If shape it might be call’d that shape had none
Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb.

Milton.—Par. Lost, Book II. Line 666.

SHAVING.—Men for their sins
Have shaving, too, entailed upon their chins.

Byron.—Don Juan, Canto XIV. Stanza 24.

SHEEP.—My banks they are furnished with bees,
Whose murmur invites one to sleep;
My grottos are shaded with trees,
And my hills are white over with sheep.

Shenstone.—Pastoral Ballad, Part II. Verse 1.

SHEPHERDS.—Ye shepherds, give ear to my lay,
And take no more heed of my sheep:
They have nothing to do but to stray;
I have nothing to do but to weep.
Alas! from the day that we met,
What hope of an end to my woes?
When I cannot endure to forget
The glance that undid my repose.

Shenstone.—Pastoral Ballad, Part IV.

SHERRY COBBLER.—For drink, there was beer which was very strong, when not mingled with water, but was agreeable to those who were used to it. They drank this with a reed out of the vessel that held the beer, upon which they saw the barley swim.

Xenophon.—Expedition of Cyrus, Books III. and IV.

SHEW.—Shew him up. Excuse me, Sir Gregory, I have business.

Fielding.—The Good-natured Man, Act IV. Scene 1.

SHILLING.—Happy the man, who, void of cares and strife,
In silken or in leathern purse retains
A splendid shilling.

J. Phillips.—The Splendid Shilling.

SHINES.—He needs no foil, but shines by his own proper light.

Dryden.—Character of a Good Parson, Last line.

That need no sun t’ illuminate their spheres,
But their own native light far passing theirs.

Spenser.—Hymn to Heavenly Beauty, Line 69.

Shine in the dignity of F. R. S.

Pope.—The Dunciad, Book IV. Line 570.

SHIP.—As we stood there, waiting on the strand,
Behold, a huge great vessel to us came,
Dancing upon the waters back to land,
As if it scorn’d the danger of the same.
Yet was it but a wooden frame and frail,

  By PanEris using Melati.

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