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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Full many a glorious morning have… Flatter the mountain-tops with sov… Kissing with golden face the meado… Gilding pale streams with heavenly… Anon permit the basest clouds to r…
THY bosom is endeared with all he… Which I, by lacking, have suppose… And there reigns Love, and all Lo… And all those friends which I tho… How many a holy and obsequious tea…
They that have power to hurt and w… That do not do the thing, they mos… Who, moving others, are themselves… Unmovèd, cold, and to temptation s… They rightly do inherit heaven’s g…
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…
Let me confess that we two must be… Although our undivided loves are o… So shall those blots that do with… Without thy help, by me be borne a… In our two loves there is but one…
When that I was and a little tiny… With hey, ho, the wind and the rai… A foolish thing was but a toy, For the rain it raineth every day. But when I came to man’s estate,
Crabbed Age and Youth Cannot live together: Youth is full of pleasance, Age is full of care; Youth like summer morn,
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…
Those petty wrongs that liberty co… When I am sometime absent from th… Thy beauty and thy years full well… For still temptation follows where… Gentle thou art and therefore to b…
Orpheus with his lute made trees, And the mountain tops that freeze, Bow themselves, when he did sing: To his music plants and flowers Ever sprung; as sun and showers
Beshrew that heart that makes my h… For that deep wound it gives my fr… Is’t not enough to torture me alon… But slave to slavery my sweet’st f… Me from my self thy cruel eye hath…
The quality of mercy is not strain… It droppeth as the gentle rain fro… Upon the place beneath. It is twi… It blesseth him that gives, and hi… 'Tis mightiest in the mightiest; i…
When my love swears that she is ma… I do believe her, though I know s… That she might think me some untut… Unskilful in the world’s false for… Thus vainly thinking that she thin…
ON a day—alack the day!— Love, whose month is ever May, Spied a blossom passing fair Playing in the wanton air: Through the velvet leaves the wind
When thou shalt be disposed to set… And place my merit in the eye of s… Upon thy side, against myself I’l… And prove thee virtuous, though th… With mine own weakness being best…