englishverse.com
HomePoetsPoemsBooks
 

William Shakespeare

The Blossom

ON a day—alack the day!—
Love, whose month is ever May,
Spied a blossom passing fair
Playing in the wanton air:
Through the velvet leaves the wind
All unseen 'gan passage find;
That the lover, sick to death,
Wish'd himself the heaven's breath.
Air, quoth he, thy cheeks may blow;
Air, would I might triumph so!
But, alack, my hand is sworn
Ne'er to pluck thee from thy thorn:
Vow, alack, for youth unmeet;
Youth so apt to pluck a sweet!
Do not call it sin in me
That I am forsworn for thee;
Thou for whom e'en Jove would swear
Juno but an Ethiop were;
And deny himself for Jove,
Turning mortal for thy love.

 
Sponsored link
To advertise here, please contact us.
 
About the poet
William Shakespeare
 
By the same poet
Sonnet i
Sonnet ii
Sonnet iii
Sonnet iv
Sonnet v
Sonnet vi
Sonnet vii
Sonnet viii
Sonnet ix
Sonnet x
Sonnet xi
Sonnet xii
Sonnet xiii
Sonnet xiv
Sonnet xv
Sonnet xvi
Sonnet xvii
Sonnet xviii
Sonnet xix
Sonnet xx
Carpe Diem
Silvia
Spring and Winter (i)
Spring and Winter (ii)
Fairy Land (i)
Fairy Land (ii)
Fairy Land (iii)
Fairy Land (iv)
Fairy Land (v)
Love
Dirge
Under the Greenwood Tree
Blow, blow, thou Winter Wind
It was a Lover and his Lass
Take, O take those Lips away
Aubade
Fidele
The Phoenix and the Turtle
 
Related books
William Shakespeare at amazon.com


Home  .  Poets  .  Poems  .  Books  .  Site preferences  .  Contact

English  .  Français

© 2003-2006 Waverley Internet Design. All rights reserved.