Wednesday, May 07, 2008

• I had a slightly morbid thought while studying for my brit lit test today. I want the Shakespearian song from Cymbeline to appear on my tombstone:

  Fear no more the heat o' th' sun

      Nor the furious winter's rages;

  Though thy worldly task hast done,

      Home art gone and ta'en thy wages.

  Golden lads and girls all must,

  As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.

   

  Fear no more the frown o' th' great;

      Thou art past the tyrant's stroke.

  Care no more to clothe and eat;

      To thee the reed is as the oak.

  The sceptre, learning, physic, must

  All follow this and come to dust.

   

  Fear no more the lightning flash,

      Nor th' all-dreaded thunder-stone;

  Fear no slander, censure rash;

      Thou hast finished joy and moan.

  All lovers young, all lovers must

  Consign to thee and come to dust.

   

  No exorciser harm thee,

  Nor no witchcraft charm thee.

  Ghost unlaid forbear thee;

  Nothing ill come near thee.

  Quiet consummation have,

  And renowned be thy grave.

  It is a bit long, maybe just a stanza or two....

  • 12:25 PM
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