Now is the winter of our discontent..
Created on: August 18th, 2009
Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this sun of York
And all the clouds that lower’d upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried
Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths
Our bruised arms hung up for monuments
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Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this sun of York
And all the clouds that lower’d upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried
Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths
Our bruised arms hung up for monuments
Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures
Grim-visag’d war hath smoothed his wrinkled front
And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds
To fright the souls of fearful adversaries
He capers nimbly in a lady’s chamber
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute
But I, that am not shap’d for sportive tricks
Nor made to court an amourous looking-glass
I, that am rudely stamp’d, and want love’s majesty
To strut before a wanton, ambling nymph
I, that am curtailed of this fair proportion
Cheated of feature by dissembling nature
Deform’d, unfinished, sent before my time
Into this breathing world, scarce half made up
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dogs bark at me as I halt by them
Why, love forswore me
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