From: lf@barkley.berkeley.edu (LexicographicalFiend)
Newsgroups: alt.romance.chat
Subject: Re: Good luck! (WARNING: LONG POEM!!)
Date: 8 Apr 92 19:40:18 GMT
Article-I.D.: barkley.LF.92Apr8144018
Organization: University of California, Berkeley
NNTP-Posting-Host: barkley.berkeley.edu
In-reply-to: mjabramc@descartes.waterloo.edu's message of 8 Apr 92 19:21:02 GMT

MikeA asks:
>Here's a task for the more ambitious! Movies r occassionally shown in stats
>class and on Monday in one of the films there was a poem being read, a poem
>by Shakespeare. It was untitled but some people(professionals?) titled it
>A Song.

There is indeed a poem called "A Song", and it was indeed written by
the Bard himself.  While I've sent Mike a copy via email, I loved it
so much that I thought I'd share it with everyone too...

				A Song
				======
			(William Shakespeare)

		1
		Shall I die? Shall I fly
		Lovers' baits and deceits,
			sorrow breeding?
		Shall I tend? Shall I send?
		Shall I sue, and not rue
			my proceeding?
		In all duty her beauty
	Binds me her servant for ever.
		If she scorn, I mourn,
		I retire to despair, joining never.

		2
		Yet I must vent my lust
		And explain inward pain
			by my love conceiving.
		If she smiles, she exiles
			All my moan; if she frown,
		all my hopes deceiving--
		Suspicious doubt, O keep out,
	For thou art my tormentor.
		Fie away, pack away;
		I will love, for hope bids me venture.

		3
		'Twere abuse to accuse
		My fair love, ere I prove
			her affection.
		Therefore try! Her reply
		Gives thee joy--or annoy,
			or affliction.
		Yet howe'er, I will bear
	Her pleasure with patience, for beauty
		Sure will not seem to blot
		Her deserts, wronging him doth her duty.

		4
		In a dream it did seem--
		But alas, dreams do pass
			as do shadows--
		I did walk, I did talk
		With my love, with my dove,
			through fair meadows.
		Still we passed till at last
	We sat to repose us for pleasure.
		Being set, lips met,
		Arms twined, and did bind my heart's treasure.

		5
		Gentle wind sport did find
		Wantonly to make fly
			her gold tresses.
		As they shook I did look,
		But her fair did impair
			all my senses.
		As amazed, I gazed
	On more than a mortal complexion.
		You that love can prove
		Such force in beauty's inflection.

		6
		Next her hair, forehead fair,
		Smooth and high; neat doth lie,
			without wrinkle,
		Her fair brows; under those,
		Star-like eyes win love's prize
			when they twinkle.
		In her cheeks who seeks
	Shall find there displayed beauty's banner;
		O admiring desiring
		Breeds, as I look still upon her.

		7
		Thin lips red, fancy's fed
		With all sweets when he meets,
			and is granted
		There to trade, and is made
		Happy, sure, to endure
			still undaunted.
		Pretty chin doth win
	Of all their culled commendations;
		Fairest neck, no speck;
		All her parts merit high admirations.

		8
		Pretty bare, past compare,
		Parts those plots which besots
			still asunder.
		It is meet naught but sweet
		Should come near that so rare
			'tis a wonder.
		No mis-shape, no scape
	Inferior to nature's perfection;
		No blot, no spot:
		She's beauty's queen in election.

		9
		Whilst I dreamt, I, exempt
		From all care, seemed to share
			pleasure's plenty;
		But awake, care take--
		For I find to my mind
			pleasures scanty.
		Therefore I will try
	To compass my heart's chief contenting.
		To delay, some say,
		In such a case causeth repenting.

LexicographicalFiend, Pundis Horrendis Aevi
  Official ReallyGrossDittyWriter of ARCland and DirtyMindedApe
  SecondBro to Rip, 'Chelle and HotDi, SpiritualBro to Lis
  'Chelle's Bouncer, Plucked From Retirement
  BackupLeatherGod and LexiTerminator
  GOGIL/DeepFUDJE's Second in Challenge II
  Putting His Shakespearean Database To Good Use 8-)
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