What is Love?- Answered by Great William ShakespeareA Poem by Abraham GeorgeHow William Shakespeare explained.The stroke of death is as a lover’s pinch, which
hurts and is desired. Speak low if you speak love, because the
course of true love never did run smooth. Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind. Cupid is a knavish lad, thus to make females mad. And when love speaks, the voice of all the
Gods makes heaven drowsy with the Harmony.
She’s beautiful, and therefore to be wooed;
She is woman, and therefore to be won. Hear my soul speak. Of the very instant that
I saw you, Did my heart fly at your service. I love you more than words can wield the
matter, Dearer than eyesight, space and liberty. I know no ways to mince it in love, but
directly to say ‘I love you. I humbly do beseech of your pardon, for too
much loving you. You have witchcraft in your lips.
I know a lady in Venice would have walked
barefoot to Palestine for a touch of his nether lip. Love is begun by time, and time qualifies the
spark and fire of it. Love will not be spurred to what it loathes. A heart to love, and in that heart, Courage,
to make’s love known. For where thou art, there is the world
itself, and where thou art not, desolation.
I will not be sworn but love may transform me
to an oyster. She loved me for the dangers I had passed, and
I loved her that she did pity them. Love hath made thee a tame snake. Her
passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love. I pray you; do not fall in love with me, for
I am falser than vows made in wine. Lovers can do their amorous rites by their
own beauties.
Doubt that the stars are fire, Doubt that the
sun doth move his aides, Doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I
love. Come what sorrow can, it cannot countervail
the exchange of joy, That one short minute gives me in her sight. I’ll make my heaven in a lady’s lap.
Love goes by haps; Some Cupid kills with
arrows, some with traps. Love sought is good, but given unsought is
better. Love is blind, and lovers cannot see, the
pretty follies those themselves commit. Love is a smoke and is made with the fume of
sighs. If music be the food of love, play on……………….
© 2017 Abraham GeorgeAuthor's Note
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Added on July 24, 2017Last Updated on July 24, 2017 AuthorAbraham GeorgeThrissur, Kerala, IndiaAboutnew here https://www.instagram.com/abramtheshowman/ more..Writing
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