Poem of the Week 69

Sonnet 116

William Shakespeare

 

 

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove.

O no! it is an ever-fixed mark

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wand’ring bark,

Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.

Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sickle’s compass come;

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me prov’d,

I never writ, nor no man ever lov’d.

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Poem of the week 10

Witches’ Song from Macbeth

William Shakespeare

 

Round about the cauldron go;

In the poison’s entrails throw.

Toad, that under cold stone

Days and nights has thirty-one

Swelter’d venom, sleeping got,

Boil thou first i’th’charmed pot.

Double, double toil and trouble:

Fire, burn; and cauldron, bubble.

Fillet of a fenny snake,

In the cauldron boil and bake;

Eye of newt, and toe of frog,

Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,

Adder’s fork and blind-worm’s sting,

Lizard’s leg, and howlet’s wing.

For a charm of powerful trouble,

Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

Double, double toil and trouble:

Fire, burn; and cauldron, bubble.