@3Isabella@1 What saies my brother> @3Claudio@1 Death is a fearefull thing. @3Isabella@1 And shamed life, a hatefull. @3Claudio@1 Ay, but to die, and go we know not where, To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot, This sensible warme motion, to become A kneaded clod; And the delightful spirit To bath in fierie floods, or reside In thrilling Region of thicke-ribbed Ice, To be imprison'd in the viewlesse windes And blowne with restlesse violence round about The pendant world: or to be worse than worst Of those that lawlesse and incertaine thought Imagine howling, 'tis too horrible. The weariest, and most loathed worldly life That Age, Ache, penury, and imprisonment Can lay on nature, is a Paradise To what we feare of death. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OUR COUNTRY'S CALL by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT MERCILES BEAUTE; A TRIPLE ROUNDEL: 1. CAPTIVITY by GEOFFREY CHAUCER TO A SHADE by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS TO THE SHAH (2) by AWHAD AD-DIN 'ALI IBN VAHID MUHAMMAD KHAVARANI HIS ALLY by WILLIAM ROSE BENET CROMEK SPEAKS by WILLIAM BLAKE WATER MOMENT by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |