Hamlet, Act 2, Scene 2. Polonius.
Modern version:
“You may wonder if the stars are fire, You may wonder if the sun moves across the sky. You may wonder if the truth is a liar, But never wonder if I love.”
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If thy soul cheque thee that I co… Swear to thy blind soul that I wa… And will, thy soul knows, is admit… Thus far for love my love-suit, sw… 'Will’ will fulfil the treasure of…
FROM off a hill whose concave wo… A plaintful story from a sistering… My spirits to attend this double v… And down I laid to list the sad-t… Ere long espied a fickle maid full…
Not from the stars do I my judgem… And yet methinks I have astronomy… But not to tell of good or evil lu… Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons… Nor can I fortune to brief minute…
King Henry to Westmoreland What’s he that wishes so? My cousin Westmoreland? No my fai… If we are mark’d to die, we are en… To do our country loss; and if to…
The forward violet thus did I chi… Sweet thief, whence didst thou ste… If not from my love’s breath? The… Which on thy soft cheek for comple… In my love’s veins thou hast too g…
When I consider every thing that… Holds in perfection but a little m… That this huge stage presenteth no… Whereon the stars in secret influe… When I perceive that men as plant…
If my dear love were but the child… It might for Fortune’s bastard be… As subject to Time’s love or to T… Weeds among weeds, or flowers with… No, it was builded far from accide…
Those hours, that with gentle work… The lovely gaze where every eye do… Will play the tyrants to the very… And that unfair which fairly doth… For never-resting time leads summe…
Why is my verse so barren of new p… So far from variation or quick cha… Why with the time do I not glance… To new-found methods, and to compo… Why write I still all one, ever t…
Thou blind fool, Love, what dost… That they behold and see not what… They know what beauty is, see wher… Yet what the best is, take the wor… If eyes corrupt by overpartial loo…
To be, or not to be: that is the q… Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to… The slings and arrows of outrageou… Or to take arms against a sea of t… And by opposing end them? To die:…
Thus is his cheek the map of days… When beauty lived and died as flow… Before these bastard signs of fair… Or durst inhabit on a living brow; Before the golden tresses of the d…
Not mine own fears, nor the prophe… Of the wide world dreaming on thin… Can yet the lease of my true love… Suppos’d as forfeit to a confin’d… The mortal moon hath her eclipse e…
As fast as thou shalt wane, so fas… In one of thine, from that which t… And that fresh blood which youngly… Thou mayst call thine when thou fr… Herein lives wisdom, beauty and in…
From “A Midsummer-Night’s Dream,… PUCK sings: NOW the hungry lion roars, And the wolf behowls the moon; Whilst the heavy ploughman snores,