Ode To the Bard: In His Own Words
A tale told by an idiot? Methinks
thou dost protest too much. In brevity,
the soul of wit, yet I shall be a fool,
for there are scarce more things in heaven, earth
than are dreamt of in your philosophy
and as the night the day, thou canst not then
be false to any man, nor die but once.
We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and
our little life is rounded with a sleep.
To sleep! Perchance to dream a little dream -
and lo! what light through yonder window breaks?
The fault lies not within the stars, but in
ourselves; we know what we are, but know not
what we may be, and yet, what’s in a name?
The course of true love never did run smooth...
If music be the food of love, play on,
for all that glisters is not gold, and you,
dear sir, have loved both wisely, well indeed.
Rest easy, bard, for well thou wore the crown.
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Phrases from various works of Shakespeare in honor of the bard's birthday
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