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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But, lo! from forth a copse that n… A breeding jennet, lusty, young, a… Adonis’ trampling courser doth esp… And forth she rushes, snorts and n… The strong-neck’d steed, being tie…
So shall I live, supposing thou a… Like a deceived husband; so love’s… May still seem love to me, though… Thy looks with me, thy heart in ot… For there can live no hatred in th…
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
Some say thy fault is youth, some… Some say thy grace is youth and ge… Both grace and faults are loved of… Thou mak’st faults graces that to… As on the finger of a thronèd quee…
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,
Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eye… Nothing of him that doth fade But doth suffer a sea-change
Sweet love, renew thy force; be it… Thy edge should blunter be than ap… Which but to—day by feeding is all… To—morrow sharpened in his former… So, love, be thou, although to—day…
In loving thee thou know’st I am… But thou art twice forsworn to me… In act thy bed-vow broke and new f… In vowing new hate after new love… But why of two oaths’ breach do I…
O, lest the world should task you… What merit lived in me that you sh… After my death, dear love, forget… For you in me can nothing worthy p… Unless you would devise some virtu…
When in the chronicle of wasted ti… I see descriptions of the fairest… And beauty making beautiful old rh… In praise of ladies dead, and love… Then, in the blazon of sweet beaut…
Under the greenwood tree Who loves to lie with me, And turn his merry note Unto the sweet bird’s throat, Come hither, come hither, come hit…
IT was a lover and his lass, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey… That o’er the green corn-field did… In the spring time, the only pr… When birds do sing, hey ding a din…
ROSES, their sharp spines being… Not royal in their smells alone, But in their hue; Maiden pinks, of odour faint, Daisies smell-less, yet most quain…
A woman’s face with Nature’s own… Hast thou, the master-mistress of… A woman’s gentle heart, but not ac… With shifting change, as is false… An eye more bright than theirs, le…
And let me the canakin clink, clin… And let me the canakin clink A soldier’s a man; A life’s but a span; Why, then, let a soldier drink.