stardust

CHORUS. (Prologue). "Romeo and Juliet." Author: William Shakespeare.

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.
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life;
Whose misadventured piteous overthrows
Doth with their death bury their parents´strife.
The fearful passage of their death-marked love,
And the continuance of their parents´rage,
Which, but their childen´s end, nought could remove,
Is now the two hours´traffic of our stage-
The which, if with patient ears attend,
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

CAPULET: And too soon marred are those so early made.
Earth hath swallowed all my hopes but she.
She is the hopeful lady of my Earth.
But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart-
My will to her consent is but a part.
And she agreed, within her scope of choice
Lies my consent and fair according voice.
This night I hold an old accustomed feast,
Whereto I have invited many a guest,
Such as I love - and you among the store,
One more most welcome, makes my number more.
At my poor house look to behold this night
Earth-treading stars that make dark Heaven light.
Such comfort as do lusty young men feel
When well-apparelled April on the heel
Of limping winter treads - even such delight
Among fresh female buds shall you this night
Inherit at my house. Hear all, all see,
And like her most whose merit most shall be-
Which on more view of many, mine, being one,
May stand in number, though in reckoning none.
Come, go with me. Go, trudge about
Through fair Verona. Find those persons out
Whose names are writtenthere, and to them say
My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.

Author: William Shakespeare.
I share these words with all of you here. Stardust.

MetricalSonneteer

And yet, not a match for Macbeth, methinks...

She should have died hereafter,
There would have been a time for such a word.
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time.
And all our yeaterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out! - brief candle...
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
Who struts and frets his hour upon the stage -
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury -
Signifying nothing.

God bless Shakespeare.

stardust

HI JONATHAN!! Thank you so much to have stopped by and viewed the poem!! I am also glad that you are reading Shakespeare´s Plays, Sonnets and Poems. I am sure, you may learn so much from him!! You are indeed, a very young Talented Poet, my friend. So, you have the whole future ahead of you. Take good advantage of your time, dear!! To have time is important.Your appraisal is always welcomed and worthwhile!! God Bless Shakespeare!! God Bless You too, Jonathan!! Sincerely, Stardust.