by Homer
My fruit of life to Paradise
Makes joyful thy return.
Sing, lullaby, my little boy,
Sing, lullaby, my livës joy. 60
Grow up, good fruit be nourished by
These fountains two of me,
That only flow with maiden’s milk,
The only meat for thee.
Sing, lullaby, my little boy, 65
Sing, lullaby, my livës joy.
The earth has now a heaven become,
And this base bower of mine,
A princely palace unto me,
My son doth make to shine. 70
Sing, lullaby, my little boy,
Sing, lullaby, my livës joy.
His sight gives clearness to my sight,
When waking I him see,
And sleeping, his mild countenance 75
Gives favour unto me.
Sing, lullaby, my little boy,
Sing, lullaby, my livës joy.
When I him in mine arms embrace,
I feel my heart embraced, 80
Even by the inward grace of his.
Which he in me hath placed.
Sing, lullaby, my little boy,
Sing, lullaby, my livës joy.
And when I kiss his loving lips, 85
Then his sweet-smelling breath
Doth yield a savour to my soul,
That feeds love, hope, and faith.
Sing, lullaby, my little boy,
Sing, lullaby, my livës joy. 90
The shepherds left their keeping sheep,
For joy to see my lamb;
How may I more rejoice to see
Myself to be the dam.
Sing, lullaby, my little boy, 95
Sing, lullaby, my livës joy.
Three kings their treasures hither brought
Of incense, myrrh, and gold;
The heaven’s treasure, and the king
That here they might behold. 100
Sing, lullaby, my little boy,
Sing, lullaby, my livës joy.
One sort an angel did direct,
A star did guide the other,
And all the fairest son to see 105
That ever had a mother.
Sing, lullaby, my little boy,
Sing, lullaby, my livës joy.
This sight I see, this child I have,
This infant I embrace, 110
O endless comfort of the earth,
And heaven’s eternal grace.
Sing, lullaby, my little boy,
Sing, lullaby, my livës joy.
Thee sanctity herself doth serve, 115
Thee goodness doth attend,
Thee blessedness doth wait upon,
And virtues all commend.
Sing, lullaby, my little boy,
Sing, lullaby, my livës joy. 120
Great kings and prophets wishèd have
To see that I possess,
Yet wish I never thee to see,
If not in thankfulness.
Sing, lullaby, my little boy, 125
Sing, lullaby, my livës joy.
Let heaven and earth, and saints and men,
Assistance give to me,
That all their most concurring aid
Augment my thanks to thee. 130
Sing, lullaby, my little boy,
Sing, lullaby, my livës joy.
And let the ensuing blessèd race,
Thou wilt succeeding raise,
Join all their praises unto mine, 135
To multiply thy praise.
Sing, lullaby, my little boy,
Sing, lullaby, my livës joy.
And take my service well in worth,
And Joseph’s here with me, 140
Who of my husband bears the name,
Thy servant for to be.
Sing, lullaby, my little boy,
Sing, lullaby, my livës joy.
List of Poems in Alphabetical Order
List of Poets in Alphabetical Order
Thomas Nashe
List of Poems in Alphabetical Order
List of Poets in Alphabetical Order
In Time of Pestilence
Thomas Nashe (1567–1601)
ADIEU, farewell earth’s bliss!
This world uncertain is:
Fond are life’s lustful joys,
Death proves them all but toys.
None from his darts can fly; 5
I am sick, I must die —
Lord, have mercy on us!
Rich men, trust not in wealth,
Gold cannot buy you health;
Physic himself must fade; 10
All things to end are made;
The plague full swift goes by;
I am sick, I must die —
Lord, have mercy on us!
Beauty is but a flower 15
Which wrinkles will devour;
Brightness falls from the air;
Queens have died young and fair;
Dust hath closed Helen’s eye;
I am sick, I must die — 20
Lord, have mercy on us!
Strength stoops unto the grave,
Worms feed on Hector brave;
Swords may not fight with fate;
Earth still holds ope her gate; 25
Come, come! the bells do cry;
I am sick, I must die —
Lord, have mercy on us!
Wit with his wantonness
Tasteth death’s bitterness; 30
Hell’s executioner
Hath no ears for to hear
What vain art can reply:
I am sick, I must die —
Lord, have mercy on us! 35
Haste therefore each degree
To welcome destiny;
Heaven is our heritage,
Earth but a player’s stage.
Mount we unto the sky; 40
I am sick, I must die —
Lord, have mercy on us!
List of Poems in Alphabetical Order
List of Poets in Alphabetical Order
Spring
Thomas Nashe (1567–1601)
SPRING, the sweet Spring, is the year’s pleasant king;
Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring
Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing,
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
The palm and may make country houses gay, 5
Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day,
And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay,
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet,
Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit, 10
In every street these tunes our ears do greet,
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
Spring! the sweet Spring!
List of Poems in Alphabetical Order
List of Poets in Alphabetical Order
William Shakespeare: Play Extracts
List of Poems in Alphabetical Order
List of Poets in Alphabetical Order
Prologue to ‘Romeo and Juliet’
William Shakespeare (1564–1616)
Enter Chorus.
Chor. Two households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. 5
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-cross’d lovers take their life;
Whose misadventur’d piteous overthrows
Do with their death bury their parents’ strife.
The fearful passage of their death-mark’d love, 10
And the continuance of their parents’ rage,
Which, but their children’s end, nought could remove,
Is now the two hours’ traffick of our stage;
The which if you with patient ears attend,
What here sh
all miss, our toil shall strive to mend. [Exit. 15
List of Poems in Alphabetical Order
List of Poets in Alphabetical Order
Romeo Meets Juliet for the First Time
Act I. Scene V.
Rom. What lady is that which doth enrich the hand
Of yonder knight?
Serv. I know not, sir. 40
Rom. O! she doth teach the torches to burn bright.
It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night
Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop’s ear;
Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!
So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, 45
As yonder lady o’er her fellows shows.
The measure done, I’ll watch her place of stand,
And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand.
Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight!
For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night. 50
Tyb. This, by his voice, should be a Montague.
Fetch me my rapier, boy. What! dares the slave
Come hither, cover’d with an antick face,
To fleer and scorn at our solemnity?
Now, by the stock and honour of my kin, 55
To strike him dead I hold it not a sin.
Cap. Why, how now, kinsman! wherefore storm you so?
Tyb. Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe;
A villain that is hither come in spite,
To scorn at our solemnity this night. 60
Cap. Young Romeo, is it?
Tyb. ’Tis he, that villain Romeo.
Cap. Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone:
He bears him like a portly gentleman;
And, to say truth, Verona brags of him 65
To be a virtuous and well-govern’d youth.
I would not for the wealth of all this town
Here in my house do him disparagement;
Therefore be patient, take no note of him:
It is my will; the which if thou respect, 70
Show a fair presence and put off these frowns,
An ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.
Tyb. It fits, when such a villain is a guest:
I’ll not endure him.
Cap. He shall be endur’d: 75
What! goodman boy; I say, he shall, go to;
Am I the master here, or you? go to.
You’ll not endure him! God shall mend my soul!
You’ll make a mutiny among my guests!
You will set cock-a-hoop! you’ll be the man! 80
Tyb. Why, uncle, ’tis a shame.
Cap. Go to, go to;
You are a saucy boy — is ‘t so indeed? —
This trick may chance to scathe you. — I know what:
You must contrary me! marry, ’tis time. 85
Well said, my hearts! You are a princox; go:
Be quiet, or — More light, more light! — For shame!
I’ll make you quiet. What! cheerly, my hearts!
Tyb. Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting
Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting. 90
I will withdraw; but this intrusion shall
Now seeming sweet convert to bitter gall. [Exit.
Rom. [To JULIET.] If I profane with my unworthiest hand
This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this;
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand 95
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
Jul. Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,
Which mannerly devotion shows in this;
For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch,
And palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss. 100
Rom. Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?
Jul. Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.
Rom. O! then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do;
They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.
Jul. Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake. 105
Rom. Then move not, while my prayers’ effect I take.
Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purg’d. [Kissing her.
Jul. Then have my lips the sin that they have took.
Rom. Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urg’d!
Give me my sin again. 110
Jul. You kiss by the book.
Nurse. Madam, your mother craves a word with you.
Rom. What is her mother?
Nurse. Marry, bachelor,
Her mother is the lady of the house, 115
And a good lady, and a wise, and virtuous:
I nurs’d her daughter, that you talk’d withal;
I tell you he that can lay hold of her
Shall have the chinks.
Rom. Is she a Capulet? 120
O dear account! my life is my foe’s debt.
Ben. Away, be gone; the sport is at the best.
Rom. Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest.
Cap. Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone;
We have a trifling foolish banquet towards. 125
Is it e’en so? Why then, I thank you all;
I thank you, honest gentlemen; good-night.
More torches here! Come on then, let’s to bed.
Ah! sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late;
I’ll to my rest. [Exeunt all except JULIET and Nurse. 130
Jul. Come hither, nurse. What is yond gentleman?
Nurse. The son and heir of old Tiberio.
Jul. What’s he that now is going out of door?
Nurse. Marry, that, I think, be young Petruchio.
Jul. What’s he, that follows there, that would not dance? 135
Nurse. I know not.
Jul. Go, ask his name. — If he be married,
My grave is like to be my wedding bed.
Nurse. His name is Romeo, and a Montague;
The only son of your great enemy. 140
Jul. My only love sprung from my only hate!
Too early seen unknown, and known too late!
Prodigious birth of love it is to me,
That I must love a loathed enemy.
Nurse. What’s this, what’s this? 145
Jul. A rime I learn’d even now
Of one I danc’d withal. [One calls within, ‘JULIET!’
Nurse. Anon, anon! —
Come, let’s away; the strangers are all gone. [Exeunt.
List of Poems in Alphabetical Order
List of Poets in Alphabetical Order
Portia’s ‘Quality of Mercy’ Speech (The Merchant of Venice)
Act IV. Scene I.
Por. Do you confess the bond?
Ant. I do.
Por. Then must the Jew be merciful.
Shy. On what compulsion must I? tell me that.
Por. The quality of mercy is not strain’d, 180
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath: it is twice bless’d;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:
’Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown; 185
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptred sway,
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, 190
It is an attribute to God himself,
And earthly power doth then show likest God’s
When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew,
Though justice be thy plea, consider this,
That in the course of justice none of us 195
Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy,
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy. I have spoke thus much
To mitigate the justice of thy plea,
Which if thou follow, this strict court of Venice 200
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Must needs give sentence ‘gainst the merchant there.
List of Poems in Alphabetical Order
List of Poets in Alphabetical Order
Jaques’ ‘All the World’s a Stage’ Speech (As You Like It)
Act II. Scene VII.
Jaq. All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts, 150
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms.
And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel,
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, 155
Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad
Made to his mistress’ eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation 160
Even in the cannon’s mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lin’d,
With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts 165