William Shakespeare

“ Mine eyes are turn’d to fire, my heart to lead: 1072
Heavy heart’s lead, melt at mine eyes’ red fire!
So shall I die by drops of hot desire.
“Alas poor world, what treasure hast thou lost!
What face remains alive that’s worth the viewing?
Whose tongue is music now? what canst thou boast
Of things long since, or anything ensuing? 1078
The flowers are sweet, their colours fresh and trim,
But true sweet beauty liv’d and died with him.
“Bonnet nor veil henceforth no creature wear! 1081
Nor sun nor wind will ever strive to kiss you:
Having no fair to lose, you need not fear ”

“ Till his breath breatheth life in her again.
He wrings her nose, he strikes her on the cheeks,
He bends her fingers, holds her pulses hard,
He chafes her lips; a thousand ways he seeks
To mend the hurt that his unkindness marr'd:
He kisses her; and she, by her good will,
Will never rise, so he will kiss her still.
The night of sorrow now is turn'd to day:
Her two blue windows faintly she up-heaveth,
Like the fair sun, when in his fresh array
He cheers the morn and all the earth relieveth;
And as the bright sun glorifies the sky,
So is her face illumined with her eye ”

“ She's Love, she loves, and yet she is not loved.
'Fie, fie,' he says, 'you crush me; let me go;
You have no reason to withhold me so.'
'Thou hadst been gone,' quoth she, 'sweet boy, ere this,
But that thou told'st me thou wouldst hunt the boar.
O, be advised! thou know'st not what it is
With javelin's point a churlish swine to gore,
Whose tushes never sheathed he whetteth still,
Like to a mortal butcher bent to kill.
'On his bow-back he hath a battle set
Of bristly pikes, that ever threat his foes;
His eyes, like glow-worms, shine when he doth fret ”

“ O, how her eyes and tears did lend and borrow!
Her eyes seen in the tears, tears in her eye;
Both crystals, where they view'd each other's sorrow,
Sorrow that friendly sighs sought still to dry;
But like a stormy day, now wind, now rain,
Sighs dry her cheeks, tears make them wet again.
Variable passions throng her constant woe,
As striving who should best become her grief;
All entertain'd, each passion labours so,
That every present sorrow seemeth chief,
But none is best: then join they all together,
Like many clouds consulting for foul weather. ”

“ For every little grief to wet his eyes,
To grow unto himself was his desire, 1180
And so ’tis thine; but know, it is as good
To wither in my breast as in his blood.
“Here was thy father’s bed, here in my breast;
Thou art the next of blood, and ’tis thy right: 1184
Lo in this hollow cradle take thy rest,
My throbbing heart shall rock thee day and night:
There shall not be one minute in an hour
Wherein I will not kiss my sweet love’s flower.” ”

“ Upon the wide wound that the boar had trench'd
In his soft flank; whose wonted lily white
With purple tears, that his wound wept, was drench'd:
No flower was nigh, no grass, herb, leaf, or weed,
But stole his blood and seem'd with him to bleed.
This solemn sympathy poor Venus noteth;
Over one shoulder doth she hang her head;
Dumbly she passions, franticly she doteth;
She thinks he could not die, he is not dead:
Her voice is stopt, her joints forget to bow;
Her eyes are mad that they have wept til now. ”

“ She looks upon his lips, and they are pale;
She takes him by the hand, and that is cold, 1124
She whispers in his ears a heavy tale,
As if they heard the woeful words she told;
She lifts the coffer-lids that close his eyes,
Where lo, two lamps burnt out in darkness lies.
Two glasses where herself herself beheld 1129
A thousand times, and now no more reflect;
Their virtue lost, wherein they late excell’d,
And every beauty robb’d of his effect. 1132
“Wonder of time,” quoth she, “this is my spite,
That thou being dead, the day should yet be light. ”

“ Whereon with fearful eyes they long have gazed,
Infusing them with dreadful prophecies; 928
So she at these sad signs draws up her breath,
And sighing it again, exclaims on death.
“Hard-favour’d tyrant, ugly, meagre, lean, 931
Hateful divorce of love,” thus chides she death,
“Grim-grinning ghost, earth’s worm, what dost thou mean?
To stifle beauty and to steal his breath,
Who when he liv’d, his breath and beauty set
Gloss on the rose, smell to the violet. ”

“ Mine eyes are grey and bright, and quick in turning;
My beauty as the spring doth yearly grow,
My flesh is soft and plump, my marrow burning,
My smooth moist hand, were it with thy hand felt,
Would in thy palm dissolve, or seem to melt. 144
“Bid me discourse, I will enchant thine ear,
Or like a fairy, trip upon the green,
Or like a nymph, with long dishevell’d hair,
Dance on the sands, and yet no footing seen. 148
Love is a spirit all compact of fire,
Not gross to sink, but light, and will aspire. ”

“ The thorny brambles and embracing bushes,
As fearful of him, part, through whom he rushes.
“Alas! he naught esteems that face of thine,
To which love’s eyes pay tributary gazes; 632
Nor thy soft hands, sweet lips, and crystal eyne,
Whose full perfection all the world amazes;
But having thee at vantage, wondrous dread!
Would root these beauties as he roots the mead.
“Oh let him keep his loathsome cabin still, 637
Beauty hath naught to do with such foul fiends:
Come not within his danger by thy will;
They that thrive well, take counsel of their friends. ”

“ Each leaning on their elbows and their hips:
Now doth she stroke his cheek, now doth he frown,
And 'gins to chide, but soon she stops his lips;
And kissing speaks, with lustful language broken,
'If thou wilt chide, thy lips shall never open.'
He burns with bashful shame: she with her tears
Doth quench the maiden burning of his cheeks;
Then with her windy sighs and golden hairs
To fan and blow them dry again she seeks:
He saith she is immodest, blames her 'miss;
What follows more she murders with a kiss. ”

“ Thy coward heart with false bethinking grieves.'
Even at this word she hears a merry horn,
Whereat she leaps that was but late forlorn.
As falcon to the lure, away she flies;
The grass stoops not, she treads on it so light;
And in her haste unfortunately spies
The foul boar's conquest on her fair delight;
Which seen, her eyes, as murder'd with the view,
Like stars ashamed of day, themselves withdrew ”

“ Wishing her cheeks were gardens full of flowers,
So they were dew'd with such distilling showers.
Look, how a bird lies tangled in a net,
So fasten'd in her arms Adonis lies;
Pure shame and awed resistance made him fret,
Which bred more beauty in his angry eyes:
Rain added to a river that is rank
Perforce will force it overflow the bank.
Still she entreats, and prettily entreats,
For to a pretty ear she tunes her tale;
Still is he sullen, still he lours and frets,
'Twixt crimson shame and anger ashy-pale:
Being red, she loves him best ”

“ Strong-temper’d steel his stronger strength obey’d,
Yet was he servile to my coy disdain. 112
Oh be not proud, nor brag not of thy might,
For mast’ring her that foil’d the god of fight.
“Touch but my lips with those fair lips of thine,
Though mine be not so fair, yet are they red, 116
The kiss shall be thine own as well as mine:
What see’st thou in the ground? hold up thy head,
Look in mine eyeballs, there thy beauty lies;
Then why not lips on lips, since eyes in eyes? 120
“Art thou asham’d to kiss? ”

“ Remove your siege from my unyielding heart,
To love’s alarms it will not ope the gate: 424
Dismiss your vows, your feigned tears, your flatt’ry;
For where a heart is hard they make no batt’ry.”
“What! canst thou talk?” quoth she, “hast thou a tongue?
O would thou hadst not, or I had no hearing; 428
Thy mermaid’s voice hath done me double wrong;
I had my load before, now press’d with bearing:
Melodious discord, heavenly tune, harsh-sounding,
Ear’s deep sweet music, and heart’s deep sore wounding.
“Had I no eyes but ears, my ears would love 433
That inward beauty and invisible ”

“ A breeding jennet, lusty, young, and proud, 260
Adonis’ tramping courser doth espy,
And forth she rushes, snorts and neighs aloud:
The strong-neck’d steed, being tied unto a tree,
Breaketh his rein, and to her straight goes he. 264
Imperiously he leaps, he neighs, he bounds,
And now his woven girths he breaks asunder;
The bearing earth with his hard hoof he wounds,
Whose hollow womb resounds like heaven’s thunder ”

“ What wax so frozen but dissolves with tempering,
And yields at last to every light impression?
Things out of hope are compass'd oft with venturing,
Chiefly in love, whose leave exceeds commission:
Affection faints not like a pale-faced coward,
But then woos best when most his choice is froward.
When he did frown, O, had she then gave over,
Such nectar from his lips she had not suck'd.
Foul words and frowns must not repel a lover ”

“ All swoln with chafing, down Adonis sits,
Banning his boisterous and unruly beast:
And now the happy season once more fits,
That love-sick Love by pleading may be blest;
For lovers say, the heart hath treble wrong
When it is barr'd the aidance of the tongue. ”

“ From morn till night, even where I list to sport me:
Is love so light, sweet boy, and may it be
That thou shouldst think it heavy unto thee?
'Is thine own heart to thine own face affected?
Can thy right hand seize love upon thy left? ”

“ Affection is a coal that must be cool'd;
Else, suffer'd, it will set the heart on fire:
The sea hath bounds, but deep desire hath none; ”

“ 'O Jove,' quoth she, 'how much a fool was I
To be of such a weak and silly mind
To wail his death who lives and must not die
Till mutual overthrow of mortal kind!
For he being dead, with him is beauty slain,
And, beauty dead, black chaos comes again. ”

“ Being prison’d in her eye, like pearls in glass; 980
Yet sometimes falls an orient drop beside,
Which her cheek melts, as scorning it should pass
To wash the foul face of the sluttish ground,
Who is but drunken when she seemeth drown’d. ”

“ For looks kill love, and love by looks reviveth; 464
A smile recures the wounding of a frown;
But blessed bankrout, that by love so thriveth!
The silly boy, believing she is dead,
Claps her pale cheek, till clapping makes it red. ”

“ 'Who sees his true-love in her naked bed,
Teaching the sheets a whiter hue than white,
But, when his glutton eye so full hath fed,
His other agents aim at like delight?
Who is so faint, that dare not be so bold
To touch the fire, the weather being cold? ”

“ Forgetting shame’s pure blush and honour’s wrack.
Hot, faint, and weary, with her hard embracing,
Like a wild bird being tam’d with too much handling,
Or as the fleet-foot roe that’s tir’d with chasing, 561
Or like the froward infant still’d with dandling:
He now obeys, and now no more resisteth,
While she takes all she can, not all she listeth. ”

“ And swelling passion doth provoke a pause;
Red cheeks and fiery eyes blaze forth her wrong;
Being judge in love, she cannot right her cause. 220
And now she weeps, and now she fain would speak,
And now her sobs do her intendments break. ”

“ Fanning the hairs, who wave like feather’d wings.
He looks upon his love, and neighs unto her;
She answers him as if she knew his mind, 308
Being proud, as females are, to see him woo her,
She puts on outward strangeness, seems unkind,
Spurns at his love and scorns the heat he feels,
Beating his kind embracements with her heels. ”

“ Her eyes woo'd still, his eyes disdain'd the wooing:
And all this dumb play had his acts made plain
With tears, which, chorus-like, her eyes did rain.
Full gently now she takes him by the hand,
A lily prison'd in a gaol of snow,
Or ivory in an alabaster band;
So white a friend engirts so white a foe:
This beauteous combat, wilful and unwilling,
Show'd like two silver doves that sit a-billing.
Once more the engine of her thoughts began:
'O fairest mover on this mortal round,
Would thou wert as I am, and I a man,
My heart all whole as thine, thy heart my wound ”

“ O hard-believing love, how strange it seems
Not to believe, and yet too credulous!
Thy weal and woe are both of them extremes;
Despair and hope makes thee ridiculous:
The one doth flatter thee in thoughts unlikely,
In likely thoughts the other kills thee quickly. ”