Queen Gertrude: O Hamlet, speak no more: Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul; and there I see such black and grained spots as will not leave their tinct.
line from Hamlet, Act III, Scene 4 by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Queen Gertrude: O Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart in twain.
Hamlet: Oh, throw away the worser part of it,
And live the purer with the other half.
line from Hamlet by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Queen Gertrude: Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended.
Hamlet: Mother, thou hast my father much offended.
line from Hamlet, Act III, Scene 4 by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Queen Gertrude: Thou know'st 'tis common; all that lives must die,
Passing through nature to eternity.
line from Hamlet, Act I, Scene 2 by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Queen Gertrude: And for your part, Ophelia, I do wish
That your good beauties be the happy cause
Of Hamlet's wildness: so shall I hope your virtues
Will bring him to his wonted way again,
To both your honours.
line from Hamlet, Act III, Scene 1 by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Queen Gertrude: O, what a rash and bloody deed is this!
Hamlet: A bloody deed! almost as bad, good mother, as kill a king, and marry with his brother.
line from Hamlet, Act III, Scene 4 by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Queen In The Black
Excuse me please your majesty
I chance this moment nervously
To share with you a fantasy
That I have lived inside of me
And it is so pretty
And it is so fine
Its the kind youd love to last you
Until the end of time
Weve talked of love, weve talked of life
And what would make the world so nice
Weve walked the sand by lovers sea
Ive held your body close to me
And it is so pretty
How Id love to know
For if I had a chance to hold you
Id never let you go
Youre my queen in the black
With your time-stopping body
Queen in the black
With your eyes that hypnotize, girl
Queen in the black
With your voice thats sweet as candy
Queen in the black
Miss ebony, you really turn me on
Theres not a day that passes by
That I dont have you on my mind
If this aint love I have inside
Then my hearts telling me a lie
Cause it feels so special
And it feels so right
And if I could I know Id love you
For the rest of my life
Youre my queen in the black
With your time-stopping body
Queen in the black
With your eyes that hypnotize, girl
Queen in the black
With your voice thats sweet as candy
Queen in the black
With your soft and sexy lips, babe
Queen in the black
I love the way you move your body
Queen in the black
You know you are nothing less than royalty
Queen in the black
Oh, Ill place you on a throne, girl
Queen in the black
Miss ebony, you really turn me on
Queen in the black
With your time-stopping body
Queen in the black
With your eyes that hypnotize, girl
Queen in the black
With your voice thats sweet as candy
Queen in the black
With your valentine smile, girl
Queen in the black
With your soft and sexy lips, babe
Queen in the black
Love the way you move your body
Queen in the black
You know you are nothing less than royalty
Queen in the black
You know Ill place you on a throne, girl
Queen in the black
Miss ebony, you really turn me on
Queen in the black
Miss ebony, you really turn me on
Queen in the black
Miss ebony, you really turn me on
Queen in the black
With your valentine smile, girl
Queen in the black
With your soft and sexy lips, babe
Queen in the black
Love the way you move your body
Queen in the black
You know you are nothing less than royalty
Queen in the black
You know Ill place you on a throne, girl
Queen in the black
Miss ebony, you really turn me on
Queen in the black
Miss ebony, you really turn me on
Queen in the black
Queen in the black
Queen in the black
Queen in the black, queen in the black
Queen in the black, now
Queen in the black
You know what Im talking about, yeah, yeah
Queen in the black
Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh
Queen in the black
With your time-stopping body
Queen in the black
With your eyes that hypnotize, girl
Queen in the black
Yeaow
song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hamlet: Madam, how like you this play?
Gertrude: The lady doth protest too much, methinks.
line from Hamlet, Act III, Scene 2 by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Upon A Looking Glass
In this see thou thy beauty, hast thou any,
Or thy defects, should they be few or many.
Thou may'st, too, here thy spots and freckles see,
Hast thou but eyes, and what their numbers be.
But art thou blind? There is no looking-glass
Can show thee thy defects, thy spots, or face.
Comparison.
Unto this glass we may compare the Word,
For that to man advantage doth afford
(Has he a mind to know himself and state),
To see what will be his eternal fate.
But without eyes, alas! how can he see?
Many that seem to look here, blind men be.
This is the reason they so often read
Their judgment there, and do it nothing dread.
poem by John Bunyan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why dost thou Shade thy Lovely Face?
1 Why dost thou shade thy lovely face? Oh, why
2 Does that eclipsing hand so long deny
3 The sunshine of thy soul-enliv'ning eye?
4 Without that light, what light remains in me?
5 Thou art my life, my way, my light; in thee
6 I live, I move, and by thy beams I see.
7 Thou art mv life; if thou but turn away
8 My life's a thousand deaths: thou art my way;
9 Without thee, Lord, I travel not, but stray.
10 My light thou art; without thy glorious sight
11 Mine eyes are darken'd with perpetual night.
12 My God, thou art my way, my life, my light.
13 Thou art my way; I wander if thou fly:
14 Thou art my light; if hid, how blind am I!
15 Thou art my life; if thou withdraw, I die.
16 Mine eyes are blind and dark, I cannot see;
17 To whom or whither should my darkness flee,
18 But to the light? and who's that light but thee?
19 My path is lost, my wand'ring steps do stray;
20 I cannot safely go, nor safely stay;
21 Whom should I seek but thee, my path, my way?
22 Oh, I am dead: to whom shall I, poor I,
23 Repair? to whom shall my sad ashes fly,
24 But life? and where is life but in thine eye?
25 And yet thou turn'st away thy face, and fly'st me;
26 And yet I sue for grace, and thou deny'st me;
27 Speak, art thou angry, Lord, or only try'st me?
28 Unscreen those heavenly lamps, or tell me why
29 Thou shad'st thy face; perhaps thou think'st no eye
30 Can view those flames, and not drop down and die.
31 If that be all, shine forth, and draw thee nigher;
32 Let me behold and die, for my desire
33 Is ph{oe}nix-like to perish in that fire.
34 Death-conquer'd Laz'rus was redeem'd by thee;
35 If I am dead, Lord, set death's prisoner free;
36 Am I more spent, or stink I worse than he?
37 If my puff'd life be out, give leave to tine
38 My shameless snuff at that bright lamp of thine;
39 Oh, what's thy light the less for lighting mine?
40 If I have lost my path, great Shepherd, say,
41 Shall I still wander in a doubtful way?
42 Lord, shall a lamb of Israel's sheep-fold stray?
43 Thou art the pilgrim's path, the blind man's eye,
44 The dead man's life; on thee my hopes rely;
45 If thou remove, I err, I grope, I die.
46 Disclose thy sunbeams; close thy wings, and stay;
47 See, see how I am blind, and dead, and stray,
48 O thou, that art my light, my life, my way.
poem by Francis Quarles
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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King Claudius: Thanks, Rosencrantz and gentle Guildenstern.
Queen Gertrude: Thanks, Guildenstern and gentle Rosencrantz:
And I beseech you instantly to visit my too much changed son.
line from Hamlet, Act II, Scene 2 by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Isaura
Dost thou not tire, Isaura, of this play?
'What play?' Why, this old play of winning hearts!
Nay, now, lift not thine eyes in that feigned way:
'Tis all in vain—I know thee and thine arts.
Let us be frank, Isaura. I have made
A study of thee; and while I admire
The practised skill with which thy plans are laid,
I can but wonder if thou dost not tire.
Why, I tire even of Hamlet and Macbeth!
When overlong the season runs, I find
Those master-scenes of passion, blood, and death,
After a time do pall upon my mind.
Dost thou not tire of lifting up thine eyes
To read the story thou hast read so oft—
Of ardent glances and deep quivering sighs,
Of haughty faces suddenly grown soft?
Is it not stale, oh, very stale, to thee,
The scene that follows? Hearts are much the same;
The loves of men but vary in degree—
They find no new expressions for the flame.
Thou must know all they utter ere they speak,
As I know Hamlet's part, whoever plays.
Oh, does it not seem sometimes poor and weak?
I think thou must grow weary of their ways.
I pity thee, Isaura! I would be
The humblest maiden with her dream untold
Rather than live a Queen of Hearts, like thee,
And find life's rarest treasures stale and old.
I pity thee; for now, let come what may,
Fame, glory, riches, yet life will lack all.
Wherewith can salt be salted? And what way
Can life be seasoned after love doth pall?
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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German Song.
Music — Krëusser.
'Thou poor blind girl
Why clings't thou thus to me,
Is yonder battle field
A fitting place for thee?
Gentlest of beings fly
Hearest thou not the cannons roar?
Leave me to destiny
Gertrude I can no more!'
'Can the soft gale
Of spring when first it blows,
Or the richest perfume
Of violet or rose,
To thy sad Gertrude yield,
Delight when thou'rt afar?
Shun love the battle field —
Tempt not the war'.
'Gertrude, my latest kiss
Rests on thy forehead fair,
While from the pale, pale cheek
I part thy radiant hair;
Yes! next my heart
I place this shining curl,
For we must part —
Farewell my poor blind girl.'
'Warrior farewell!
Blessings thy steps attend,
I have but prayers to give
To thee my only friend;
Deprived of Heaven's own light
Thy presence was a ray
That made my darkness bright
As summer's gorgeous day.'
poem by Fidelia S T Hill
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Black Messiah
Everybody got the right to speak their mind
So dont shoot me for saying mine
Everybody talking about racial equality
cos everybodys equal in the good lords eyes
But if I told you that God was black
What would you think of that
I bet you wouldnt believe it
Theres a self made prophet living right next to me
He said the black messiahs gonna come and set the whole world free
He looked at me with his evil eye and prophesied
And he really believed it
He said a black messiah is gonna set the world on fire
And hes no liar, cos he has truly heard the word
Everybody talking about racial equality
But Im the only honky living on an all black street
They knock me down cos they brown and I white
Everybody got the right to speak their mind
So dont shoot me for saying mine
Everyobody talking about racial equality
You hear everybody talking about equal rights
But whites white, blacks black and thats that
And thats the way you should leave it
Dont want no black messiah to come and set the world on fire
A black messiah is gonna come and rule the world
Everybody got to show a little give and take
Everybody got to live with a little less hate
Everybody gotta work it out, we gotta sort it out
Everbody got the right to speak their mind
So dont shoot me for saying mine
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Myra
O thou, whose tender serious eyes
Expressive speak the mind I love;
The gentle azure of the skies,
The pensive shadows of the grove;
O mix their beauteous beams with mine,
And let us interchange our hearts;
Let all their sweetness on me shine,
Poured through my soul be all their darts.
Ah! 'tis too much! I cannot bear
At once so soft, so keen a ray:
In pity then, my lovely fair,
O turn those killing eyes away!
But what avails it to conceal
One charm, where nought but charms I see?
Their lustre then again reveal,
And let me, Myra, die of thee!
poem by James Thomson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A final house stands at this hamlet's site (In diesem Dorfe steht das letzte Haus)
A final house stands at this hamlet's site,
as lonesome as the final house on earth.
The road, unhindered by the hamlet's girth
keeps walking slowly out into the night.
The hamlet is but a transition side
of two expanses, anxious, terrified;
its walk along the houses mere relay.
And those that leave the hamlet wander wide
and many die perhaps along the way.
poem by Rainer Maria Rilke (19 September 1901), translated by Walter Aue
Submitted by anonym
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The Witches' Glen - An Auld Tale
Gather aroon the ingle nuek
For ae eerie tale I'll tell -
'Boot a glen whar a witchy spook
Cast folk in her terrible spell.
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she was the devil's queen.
Warlocks an witches dance at night
When the full-moon turns its ken!
Thunder rides on a bolt of light
The deil's in the witches' glen!
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she was the devil's queen.
Auld trees hang o'er the twisted wynd
An' blot oot the licht o' day;
An there, there's staring eyes tae find
A stranger wha's lost their way.
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she was the devil's queen.
Frae Grennan wood she hailed an flew
A flash thru the black night wind
Come witchin hour everyin knew
She'd get a' the folks wha sinned.
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she was the devil's queen.
They burned her on Kirkmaiden hill
An' they bound her on a stake:
She chanted spells that made 'em ill
An' they pray'd for Jesus' sake.
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she was the devil's queen.
When ere ye walk the witches' glen,
Whar branches stretch oot like hands
Tak' Bible, cross an' say, Amen!
An' heed the guid Lord's commands.
Her hair sae black, her eyes sae green
Black Meg she's still there tae be seen.
poem by Patrick Scott Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thee
Thy sun is the hope of mine cold day,
Thy rain of tears the hope of mine arid desert
To thee I hope, to thee I pray
My soul's anguish for thee to comfort
Thy carmine rose leaf's the beauty of mine hurt
Thy delicious breathe, mine soul's fresh air
With thy power mine mind doth flirt
And thy life, mine life's only care.
Thy dew mine soul's most precious treasure
Thy bodies heat, mine bodies fire place
In thy freedom, mine soul's lonely leisure
Thy bodies shape, mine eye's holy grace
Mysterious art thou, none shall ever know it
But thou art and the muse of this poet
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet XII: Indeed This Very Love
Indeed this very love which is my boast,
And which, when rising up from breast to brow,
Doth crown me with ruby large enow
To draw men's eyes and prove the inner cost,--
This love even, all my worth, to the uttermost,
I should not love withal, unless that thou
Hadst set me an example, shown me how,
When first thine earnest eyes with mine were crossed,
And love called love. And thus, I cannot speak
Of love even, as good thing of my own:
Thy soul hath snatched up mine all faint and weak,
And placed it by thee on a golden throne,--
And that I love (O soul, we must be meek--)
Is by thee only, whom I love alone.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet XII
Indeed this very love which is my boast,
And which, when rising up from breast to brow,
Doth crown me with a ruby large enow
To draw men's eyes and prove the inner cost,--
This love even, all my worth, to the uttermost,
I should not love withal, unless that thou
Hadst set me an example, shown me how,
When first thine earnest eyes with mine were crossed,
And love called love. And thus, I cannot speak
Of love even, as a good thing of my own:
Thy soul hath snatched up mine all faint and weak,
And placed it by thee on a golden throne,--
And that I love (O soul, we must be meek !)
Is by thee only, whom I love alone.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Xii
Indeed this very love which is my boast,
And which, when rising up from breast to brow,
Doth crown me with a ruby large enow
To draw men's eyes and prove the inner cost,--
This love even, all my worth, to the uttermost,
I should not love withal, unless that thou
Hadst set me an example, shown me how,
When first thine earnest eyes with mine were crossed,
And love called love. And thus, I cannot speak
Of love even, as a good thing of my own:
Thy soul hath snatched up mine all faint and weak,
And placed it by thee on a golden throne,--
And that I love (O soul, we must be meek !)
Is by thee only, whom I love alone.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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