Poetry by William Shakespeare (best books to read for knowledge .txt) 📕

Poetry

By William Shakespeare.

Table of Contents Titlepage Imprint Venus and Adonis The Rape of Lucrece The Argument The Passionate Pilgrim I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX X XI XII XIII XIV XV Sonnets to Sundry Notes of Music XVI XVII XVIII XIX XX XXI The Phoenix and the Turtle Sonnets I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX X XI XII XIII XIV XV XVI XVII XVIII XIX XX XXI XXII XXIII XXIV XXV XXVI XXVII XXVIII XXIX XXX XXXI XXXII XXXIII XXXIV XXXV XXXVI XXXVII XXXVIII XXXIX XL XLI XLII XLIII XLIV XLV XLVI XLVII XLVIII XLIX L LI LII LIII LIV LV LVI LVII LVIII LIX LX LXI LXII LXIII LXIV LXV LXVI LXVII LXVIII LXIX LXX LXXI LXXII LXXIII LXXIV LXXV LXXVI LXXVII LXXVIII LXXIX LXXX LXXXI LXXXII LXXXIII LXXXIV LXXXV LXXXVI LXXXVII LXXXVIII LXXXIX XC XCI XCII XCIII XCIV XCV XCVI XCVII XCVIII XCIX C CI CII CIII CIV CV CVI CVII CVIII CIX CX CXI CXII CXIII CXIV CXV CXVI CXVII CXVIII CXIX CXX CXXI CXXII CXXIII CXXIV CXXV CXXVI CXXVII CXXVIII CXXIX CXXX CXXXI CXXXII CXXXIII CXXXIV CXXXV CXXXVI CXXXVII CXXXVIII CXXXIX CXL CXLI CXLII CXLIII CXLIV CXLV CXLVI CXLVII CXLVIII CXLIX CL CLI CLII CLIII CLIV A Lover’s Complaint Endnotes Colophon Uncopyright Imprint

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Venus and Adonis

“Vilia miretur vulgus; mihi flavus Apollo
Pocula Castalia plena ministret aqua.”

To the
Right Honourable Henry Wriothesley,
Earl of Southampton, and Baron of Titchfield.

Right Honourable,

I know not how I shall offend in dedicating my unpolished lines to your lordship, nor how the world will censure me for choosing so strong a prop to support so weak a burthen: only, if your honour seem but pleased, I account myself highly praised, and vow to take advantage of all idle hours, till I have honoured you with some graver labour. But if the first heir of my invention prove deformed, I shall be sorry it had so noble a godfather, and never after ear so barren a land, for fear it yield me still so bad a harvest. I leave it to your honourable survey, and your honour to your heart’s content; which I wish may always answer your own wish and the world’s hopeful expectation.

Your honour’s in all duty,

William Shakespeare.

Even as the sun with purple-colour’d face
Had ta’en his last leave of the weeping morn,
Rose-cheek’d Adonis tried him to the chase;
Hunting he loved, but love he laugh’d to scorn;
Sick-thoughted Venus makes amain unto him,
And like a bold-faced suitor ’gins to woo him.

“Thrice fairer than myself,” thus she began,
“The field’s chief flower, sweet above compare,
Stain to all nymphs, more lovely than a man,
More white and red than doves or roses are;
Nature that made thee, with herself at strife,
Saith that the world hath ending with thy life.

“Vouchsafe, thou wonder, to alight thy steed,
And rein his proud head to the saddle-bow;
If thou wilt deign this favour, for thy meed
A thousand honey secrets shalt thou know:
Here come and sit, where never serpent hisses,
And being set, I’ll smother thee with kisses;

“And yet not cloy thy lips with loathed satiety,
But rather famish them amid their plenty,
Making them red and pale with fresh variety,
Ten kisses short as one, one long as twenty:
A summer’s day will seem an hour but short,
Being wasted in such time-beguiling sport.”

With this she seizeth on his sweating palm,
The precedent of pith and livelihood,
And trembling in her passion, calls it balm,
Earth’s sovereign salve to do a goddess good:
Being so enraged, desire doth lend her force
Courageously to pluck him from his horse.

Over one arm the lusty courser’s rein,
Under her other was the tender boy,
Who blush’d and pouted in a dull disdain,
With leaden appetite, unapt to toy;
She red and hot as coals of glowing fire,
He red for shame, but frosty in desire.

The studded bridle on a ragged bough
Nimbly she fastens:⁠—O, how quick is love!⁠—
The steed is stalled up, and even now
To