William Shakespeare: Dirge

Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypres let me be laid; Fly away, fly away, breath; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O prepare it! My part of death, no one so true Did share it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet, On my black coffin let there be strown; Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corse, where my bones shall be thrown: A thousand thousand sighs to save, Lay me, O, where Sad true lover never find my grave To weep there! The Read more [...]

William Shakespeare: Carpe Diem

O mistress mine, where are you roaming? O stay and hear! your true-love's coming That can sing both high and low; Trip no further, pretty sweeting, Journey's end in lovers' meeting-- Every wise man's son doth know. What is love? 'tis not hereafter; Present mirth hath present laughter; What's to come is still unsure: In delay there lies no plenty,-- Then come kiss me, Sweet and twenty, Youth's a stuff will not endure. This poem is from As You Like It. The meaning of the title is: Read more [...]

William Shakespeare: Bridal Song

Roses, their sharp spines being gone, Not royal in their smells alone, But in their hue; Maiden pinks, of odour faint, Daisies smell-less, yet most quaint,  And sweet thyme true; Primrose, firstborn child of Ver; Merry springtime's harbinger, With her bells dim; Oxlips in their cradles growing,  Marigolds on death-beds blowing, Larks'-heels trim; All dear Nature's children sweet  Lie 'fore bride and bridegroom's feet, Blessing their sense!  Not an angel of the air, Bird Read more [...]

William Shakespeare: Blow, Blow Thou Winter Wind

Blow, blow, thou winter wind Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude; Thy tooth is not so keen, Because thou art not seen, Although thy breath be rude. Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly: Most freindship if feigning, most loving mere folly: Then heigh-ho, the holly! This life is most jolly. Freeze, freeze thou bitter sky, That does not bite so nigh As benefits forgot: Though thou the waters warp, Thy sting is not so sharp As a friend remembered not. Heigh-ho! sing, Read more [...]

William Shakespeare: Aubade

HARK! hark! the lark at heaven’s gate sings,
And Phoebus ‘gins arise,
His steeds to water at those springs
On chaliced flowers that lies;
And winking Mary-buds begin
To ope their golden eyes:
With everything that pretty bin,
My lady sweet, arise!
Arise, arise!

Aubade is a form of love song. Its usual theme is lovers, separated by the dawn.

 

William Shakespeare: The Rape of Lucrece

To the Right Honorable Henry Wriothesly, Earl of Southampton, and Baron of Tichfield. The love I dedicate to your lordship is without end; whereof this pamphlet, without beginning, is but a superfluous moiety. The warrant I have of your honourable disposition, not the worth of my untutored lines, makes it assured of acceptance. What I have done is yours; what I have to do is yours; being part in all I have, devoted yours. Were my worth greater, my duty would show greater; meantime, as it Read more [...]


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