Life and Existence

If thou and nature can so gently part, The stroke of death is as a lover’s pinch, Which hurts, and is desir’d.

Husband, I come.

I have Immortal longings in me.

I wish you joy of the worm.

The bright day is done, And we are for the dark.

The quick comedians Extemporally will stage us, and present Our Alexandrian revels. Antony Shall be brought drunken forth, and I shall see Some squeaking Cleopatra boy my greatness I’ the posture of a whore.

And it is great To do that thing that ends all other deeds, Which shackles accidents, and bolts up change.

And it is great To do that thing that ends all other deeds, Which shackles accidents, and bolts up change.

Let’s do it after the high Roman fashion, And make death proud to take us.

O! wither’d is the garland of the war, The soldier’s pole is fall’n; young boys and girls Are level now with men; the odds is gone, And there is nothing left remarkable Beneath the visiting moon.

O sun! Burn the great sphere thou mov’st in; darkling stand The varying shore o’ the world.

I am dying, Egypt, dying; only I here importune death awhile, until Of many thousand kisses the poor last I lay upon thy lips.

But I will be A bridegroom in my death, and run into ’t As to a lover’s bed.

Unarm, Eros; the long day’s task is done, And we must sleep.

O infinite virtue! com’st thou smiling from The world’s great snare uncaught?

Men’s judgments are A parcel of their fortunes, and things outward Do draw the inward quality after them, To suffer all alike.

He wears the rose Of youth upon him.

We, ignorant of ourselves, Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers Deny us for our good; so find we profit By losing of our prayers.

We, ignorant of ourselves, Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers Deny us for our good; so find we profit By losing of our prayers.

My salad days, When I was green in judgment.

O! my oblivion is a very Antony, And I am all forgotten.

Let Rome in Tiber melt, and the wide arch Of the rang’d empire fall! Here is my space. Kingdoms are clay.

Live to be the show and gaze o’ the time.

Macduff was from his mother’s womb Untimely ripp’d.