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PostPosted: Thu Sep 18, 2008 8:58 pm
by Saturn

Grave scholar?
Traveller abroad?
University wit?

Nay, never thou,
None of those,
Nay, out on't.
In modesty bred thou,
By great Nature schooled.
Yet not a humble rustic
Was thy destined fate.
The bucolic lot irked thee
And a divers life sought.
Thou compassed a title,
A princedom of numbers,
An immortality of words.

Thou trail'st a player's coat,
Hitch'd to a tumbler's garb
Hung fast frayed coattails
And founds't in London thee.
There, metamorphosed a poet,
Thou wert admirest of some,
Reviled, envied by a few.
The stage thou stormst,
Thou conquerst entire;
A very Caesar of rhyme,
Crushing underfoot sure
The prevailing serpents
Of folly and untruth.

Thou brought forth man,
His nature, chief assets,
His form entire indeed,
Thou uncoverst what erst
Was hid or sometime forgot.
Thou mirrorst Nature exact,
Delineated her true shape,
And displayst for all to see
The nakedness of truth.

Re: Shakespeare

PostPosted: Thu Sep 18, 2008 9:06 pm
by SidewalkProphet


words fail me...