Romeo:
If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep,
My dreams presage some joyful news at hand:
My bosom’s lord sits lightly in his throne,
And all this day an unaccustomed spirit
Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.
I dreamt my lady came and found me dead—
Strange dream that gives a dead man leave to think!—
And breathed such life with kisses in my lips,
That I revived, and was an emperor.
Ah me! how sweet is love itself possess’d,
When but love’s shadows are so rich in joy!
Juliet:
Thy lips are warm! yea, noise? then I’ll be brief.
O happy dagger! This is thy sheath: there rust, and let me die.
:: 10.16.2023 ::

October 17th, 2023 at 10:52 am
Beautiful post
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