Tuesday, 23 April 2013

Happy Birthday Bill!

Today is the birthday/deathday of William Shakespeare, the bane of English lit students. I'm sure most people have been forced to study him at some point. I used to be suspicious of people who actually claimed to like his work, as I thought they were just being pretentious, but I have to confess I have developed an appreciation for old Shaky.

 My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red, than her lips red:
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound:
I grant I never saw a goddess go,
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet by heaven, I think my love as rare,
As any she belied with false compare.

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