W I L L I A M   S H A K E S P E A R E  (1564-1616) 

Sonnet 129

The expense of spirit in a waste of shame
Is lust in action: and till action, lust
Is perjured, murderous, bloody, full of blame,
Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust;
Enjoyed no sooner but despised straight;
Past reason hunted; and no sooner had,
Past reason hated, as a swallowed bait,
On purpose laid to make the taker mad.
Mad in pursuit and in possession so;
Had, having, and in quest to have extreme;
A bliss in proof, and proved, a very woe;
Before, a joy proposed; behind a dream.
     All this the world well knows; yet none knows well
     To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell.


Fear No More the Heat o’ the Sun

from Cymbeline

Fear no more the heat o’ the sun,
      Nor the furious winter’s rages;
Thou thy worldly task hast done,
      Home art gone, and ta’en thy wages.
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.

Fear no more the frown o’ the great;
      Thou art past the tyrant’s stroke;
Care no more to clothe and eat;
      To thee the reed is as the oak.
The Sceptre, Learning, Physic, must
All follow this, and come to dust.

Fear no more the lightning-flash,
      Nor the’all-dreaded thunder-stone;
Fear not slander, censure rash;
      Thou hast finished joy and moan.
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee, and come to dust.

No exorciser harm thee!
Nor no witchcraft charm thee!
Ghost unlaid forbear thee!
Nothing ill come near thee!
Quiet consummation have,
And renownèd be thy grave!

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