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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URNS and odours bring away! Vapours, sighs, darken the day! Our dole more deadly looks than dy… Balms and gums and heavy cheers… Sacred vials fill’d with tears,
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…
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…
O, call not me to justify the wron… That thy unkindness lays upon my h… Wound me not with thine eye but wi… Use power with power, and slay me… Tell me thou lov’st elsewhere, but…
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…
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…
The little love god lying once asl… Laid by his side his heart-inflami… Whilst many nymphs that vowed chas… Came tripping by; but in her maide… The fairest votary took up that fi…
Now, my co-mates and brothers in e… Hath not old customs make this lif… Than that of painted pomp? Are no… More free from peril than the envi… Here feel we not the penalty of A…
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…
Let the bird of loudest lay, On the sole Arabian tree, Herald sad and trumpet be, To whose sound chaste wings obey. But thou, shrieking harbinger,
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…
From you have I been absent in th… When proud pied April, dressed in… Hath put a spirit of youth in ever… That heavy Saturn laughed and lea… Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the…
Thy glass will show thee how thy b… Thy dial how thy precious minutes… These vacant leaves thy mind’s imp… And of this book, this learning ma… The wrinkles which thy glass will…
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, that you were yourself! but, lo… No longer yours than you yourself… Against this coming end you should… And your sweet semblance to some o… So should that beauty which you ho…