Juliet's Soliloquy - William Shakespeare

Farewell!--God knows when we shall meet again.

I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins

That almost freezes up the heat of life:

I'll call them back again to comfort me;--

Nurse!--What should she do here?

My dismal scene I needs must act alone.--

Come, vial.--

What if this mixture do not work at all?

Shall I be married, then, to-morrow morning?--

No, No!--this shall forbid it:--lie thou there.--

What if it be a poison, which the friar

Subtly hath minister'd to have me dead,

Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour'd,

Because he married me before to Romeo?

I fear it is: and yet methinks it should not,

For he hath still been tried a holy man:--

I will not entertain so bad a thought.--

How if, when I am laid into the tomb,

I wake before the time that Romeo

Come to redeem me? there's a fearful point!

Shall I not then be stifled in the vault,

To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in,

And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes?

Or, if I live, is it not very like

The horrible conceit of death and night,

Together with the terror of the place,--

As in a vault, an ancient receptacle,

Where, for this many hundred years, the bones

Of all my buried ancestors are pack'd;

Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth,

Lies festering in his shroud; where, as they say,

At some hours in the night spirits resort;--

Alack, alack, is it not like that I,

So early waking,--what with loathsome smells,

And shrieks like mandrakes torn out of the earth,

That living mortals, hearing them, run mad;--

O, if I wake, shall I not be distraught,

Environed with all these hideous fears?

And madly play with my forefathers' joints?

And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud?

And, in this rage, with some great kinsman's bone,

As with a club, dash out my desperate brains?--

O, look! methinks I see my cousin's ghost

Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body

Upon a rapier's point:--stay, Tybalt, stay!--

Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee.

Carpe Diem - William Shakespeare

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.

Bridal Song - William Shakespeare

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 melodious or bird fair,

Be absent hence!

The crow, the slanderous cuckoo, nor

The boding raven, nor chough hoar,

Nor chattering pye,

May on our bride-house perch or sing,

Or with them any discord

Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind - William Shakespeare

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, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:

Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:

Then heigh-ho, the holly!

This life is most jolly.

All the World's a Stage - William Shakespeare

All the world's a stage,

And all the men and women merely players;

They have their exits and their entrances,

And one man in his time plays many parts,

His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,

Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.

Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel

And shining morning face, creeping like snail

Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,

Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad

Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,

Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,

Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,

Seeking the bubble reputation

Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,

In fair round belly with good capon lined,

With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,

Full of wise saws and modern instances;

And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts

Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,

With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;

His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide

For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,

Turning again toward childish treble, pipes

And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,

That ends this strange eventful history,

Is second childishness and mere oblivion,

Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

A Madrigal

Crabbed Age and Youth

Cannot live together:

Youth is full of pleasance,

Age is full of care;

Youth like summer morn,

Age like winter weather;

Youth like summer brave,

Age like winter bare:

Youth is full of sports,

Age's breath is short,

Youth is nimble, Age is lame:

Youth is hot and bold,

Age is weak and cold,

Youth is wild, and Age is tame:-

Age, I do abhor thee;

Youth, I do adore thee;

O! my Love, my Love is young!

Age, I do defy thee-

O sweet shepherd, hie thee,

For methinks thou stay'st too long.

A Fairy Song

Over hill, over dale,

Thorough bush, thorough brier,

Over park, over pale,

Thorough flood, thorough fire!

I do wander everywhere,

Swifter than the moon's sphere;

And I serve the Fairy Queen,

To dew her orbs upon the green;

The cowslips tall her pensioners be;

In their gold coats spots you see;

Those be rubies, fairy favours;

In those freckles live their savours;

I must go seek some dewdrops here,

And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.

Who is Silvia?

Who is Silvia? what is she,

That all our swains commend her?

Holy, fair and wise is she;

The heaven such grace did lend her,

That she might admired be.

Is she kind as she is fair?

For beauty lives with kindness.

Love doth to her eyes repair,

To help him of his blindness,

And, being help'd, inhabits there.

Then to Silvia let us sing,

That Silvia is excelling;

She excels each mortal thing

Upon the dull earth dwelling:

A Violet Bank

I know a bank whereon the wild thyme blows,

Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows:

Quite over-canopied with lush woodbine,

With sweet musk roses and with eglantine.

Under the Greenwood Tree

Under the greenwood tree

Who loves to lie with me,

And tune his merry note

Unto the sweet bird's throat-

Come hither, come hither, come hither!

Here shall he see

No enemy

But winter and rough weather.

Who doth ambition shun

And loves to live i' the sun,

Seeking the food he eats

And pleased with what he gets-

Come hither, come hither, come hither!

Here shall he see

No enemy

But winter and rough weather.

Fairy Lullabye from Midsummer Night's Dream

You spotted snakes, with double tongue,

Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen;

Newts and blind-worms, do no wrong;

Come not near our fairy queen;

Philomel, with melody,

Sing in our sweet lullaby;

Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby!

Never harm,

Nor spell not charm,

come our lovely lady nigh;

So, good night, with lullaby.

Weaving spiders, come not here;

Hence, you long-legg'd spinners, hence;

Beetles black, approach not near;

Worm nor snail, do no offense.

Philomel, with melody,

Sing in our sweet lullaby;

Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby!

Never harm,

Nor spell nor charm,

Come our lovely lady night;

So, good night, with lullaby.