Author Topic: Absence (Read 1015 times)

MikeLigalig.com · « **on:** October 07, 2009, 09:11:09 PM »

Absence
By William Shakespeare

Being your slave what should I do but tend
Upon the hours and times of your desire?
I have no precious time at all to spend,
Nor services to do, till you require:

Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour
Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you,
Nor think the bitterness of absence sour
When you have bid your servant once adieu:

Nor dare I question with my jealous thought
Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,
But like a sad slave, stay and think of nought
Save where you are, how happy you make those;--

So true a fool is love, that in your will,
Though you do any thing, he thinks no ill.

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MikeLigalig.com · « **Reply #1 on:** October 07, 2009, 09:12:04 PM »

How like a winter hath my absence been
From Thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen,
What old December's bareness everywhere!

And yet this time removed was summer's time:
The teeming autumn, big with rich increase,
Bearing the wanton burden of the prime
Like widow'd wombs after their lords' decease:

Yet this abundant issue seem'd to me
But hope of orphans, and unfather'd fruit;
For summer and his pleasures wait on thee,
And, thou away, the very birds are mute;

Or if they sing, 'tis with so dull a cheer,
That leaves look pale, dreading the winter's near.

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Lorenzo · « **Reply #2 on:** October 07, 2009, 09:41:07 PM »

Great choice. One of my favorites.

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