Thoughts of a spoilled insane lunatic...which wonders the life of love
To die, to sleep...No more... and by a sleep to say we
end the heartache and the thousand natural shocks that
flesh is heir to....'tis a consummation devoutly to be
wished......
For who bear the whips and scorns of time,
th' appressor's wrong, the proud mans contumely,
the pang of desprised love, the law's delay,
the insolence of office, and the spurns that patient merit
of th' unworthy takes, when he himself might his quiet us
make with bare bodkin?
end the heartache and the thousand natural shocks that
flesh is heir to....'tis a consummation devoutly to be
wished......
For who bear the whips and scorns of time,
th' appressor's wrong, the proud mans contumely,
the pang of desprised love, the law's delay,
the insolence of office, and the spurns that patient merit
of th' unworthy takes, when he himself might his quiet us
make with bare bodkin?