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.”
#EnglishWriters
No longer mourn for me when I am… Than you shall hear the surly sull… Give warning to the world that I… From this vile world with vilest w… Nay if you read this line, remembe…
Unthrifty loveliness, why dost tho… Upon thyself thy beauty’s legacy? Nature’s bequest gives nothing but… And being frank she lends to those… Then, beauteous niggard, why dost…
O, how much more doth beauty beaut… By that sweet ornament which truth… The rose looks fair, but fairer we… For that sweet odour, which doth i… The canker blooms have full as dee…
Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn and caldron bubble. Fillet of a fenny snake, In the caldron boil and bake; Eye of newt and toe of frog,
Let those who are in favour with t… Of public honour and proud titles… Whilst I, whom fortune of such tr… Unlooked for joy in that I honour… Great princes’ favourites their fa…
My mistress’ eyes are nothing like… Coral is far more red than her lip… If snow be white, why then her bre… If hairs be wires, black wires gro… I have seen roses damasked, red an…
No more be grieved at that which t… Roses have thorns, and silver foun… Clouds and eclipses stain both moo… And loathsome canker lives in swee… All men make faults, and even I i…
If music be the food of love, play… Give me excess of it, that, surfei… The appetite may sicken, and so di… That strain again! it had a dying… O, it came o’er my ear like the sw…
Lo! in the orient when the graciou… Lifts up his burning head, each un… Doth homage to his new-appearing s… Serving with looks his sacred maje… And having climb’d the steep-up he…
Crabbed Age and Youth Cannot live together: Youth is full of pleasance, Age is full of care; Youth like summer morn,
Who will believe my verse in time… If it were fill’d with your most h… Though yet, heaven knows, it is bu… Which hides your life and shows no… If I could write the beauty of yo…
How like a winter hath my absence… From thee, the pleasure of the fle… What freezings have I felt, what… What old December’s bareness ever… And yet this time remov’d was summ…
IT was a lording’s daughter, the… That liked of her master as well a… Till looking on an Englishman, th… Her fancy fell a-turning. Long was the combat doubtful that…
O mistress mine, where are you roa… O stay and hear! your true-love’s… That can sing both high and low; Trip no further, pretty sweeting, Journey’s end in lovers’ meeting–
I grant thou wert not married to m… And therefore mayst without attain… The dedicated words which writers… Of their fair subject, blessing ev… Thou art as fair in knowledge as i…