Poems of William Shakespeare
|401.||To be, or not to be: that is the question||3/29/2010|
|402.||To Me, Fair Friend, You Never Can Be Old||3/30/2010|
|403.||To me, fair Friend, you never can be old,||3/29/2010|
|404.||Twelve O'Clock - Fairy time||3/29/2010|
|405.||Under the Greenwood Tree||1/3/2003|
|406.||When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes (Sonnet 29)||1/20/2003|
|407.||When that I was and a little tiny boy||1/20/2003|
|408.||When to the sessions of sweet silent thought (Sonnet 30)||1/20/2003|
|410.||Witches Chant (from Macbeth)||3/29/2010|
Thus can my love excuse the slow offence
Of my dull bearer when from thee I speed:
From where thou art why should I haste me thence?
Till I return, of posting is no need.
O, what excuse will my poor beast then find,
When swift extremity can seem but slow?
Then should I spur, though mounted on the wind;
In winged speed no motion shall I know:
Then can no horse with my desire keep pace;