Monday, October 22, 2007

How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night,
Like softest music to attending ears!

Two households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Pentagon, where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean

See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!
O that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek!

And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,
Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,
Of healths five-fathom deep; and then anon
Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes,
And being thus frighted swears a prayer or two
And sleeps again.

Too early seen unknown, and known too late!