COME away, come away, death,
And in sad cypres let me be laid;
Fly away, fly away, breath;
I am slain by a fair cruel maid.
My shroud of white, stuck all with yew,
O prepare it!
My part of death, no one so true
Did share it.
Not a flower, not a flower sweet,
On my black coffin let there be strown;
Not a friend, not a friend greet
My poor corse, where my bones shall be thrown:
A thousand thousand sighs to save,
Lay me, O, where
Sad true lover never find my grave
To weep there!
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his writing is so loud with a voice of scream
lyke a song yelled the earth sings
very good write
I lov ehow he said fly away breath
the personfication
he's ok -
Tragic to a tee--as only William Shakespeare can write it. I feel the need, after reading this poem, to bathe; cleansing myself of love's unfaithful hues and truths. Wonderfully written, though I had to strain myself to enjoy a single part in it.
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i love this it's...beautiful...yet so freakin' sad...
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This is in fact a song, rather than a poem, and is from Twelfth Night, Act 2, scene 4. Orsino is suffering from pangs of love and is questioning Viola who he believes to be a boy. He wants to hear a sad love song he has heard the night before and is told it was sung by the clown Feste, who is of Olivia's household. Feste is sent for and as requested sings the song and is then paid by Orsino.
The song is deliberately melancholy and nostalgic to match and reflect Orsino's mood at this point. -
wonderful
"COME away, come away, death,
And in sad cypres let me be laid;
Fly away, fly away, breath;
I am slain by a fair cruel maid."
this is the job of a really talented poet that like a saint he always welcome the death ____ not considering that the only solution of his problems or any sort of escape but to compare the feelings of death with the sweet pain of Love.
This is wonderful.
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Dark, but lovely. I wonder if this is from one of his plays? "A thousand thousand sighs to save." I like that line. Good poem.
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As much as I love Shakespear....I find that he does quite a bit of repeating in this one....I'm not likeing it too much. Usually I love a good dirge now and again, especially the kind played on old organs, but for some reason this one isn't doing anything for me but think that he's being rude to not let those who loved him morn his death and visit his grave or bring him flowers to honor him. but of course he could have had many other reasons for that, reasons we may never know....well...i'm done here.
-midget- -
Very Nice
I love it , it is a very sad yet beautiful poem
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