O speak again bright angel! for thou art As glorious to this night, being o'er my head As is a winged messenger of heaven Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him
But to be frank, and give it thee again.And yet I wish but for the thing I have:My bounty is as boundless as the sea,My love as deep; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite.
When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds And sails upon the bosom of the air.
O Romeo Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name Or, if thou wilt not be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet.
Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?
Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!
I take thee at thy word:Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized;Henceforth I never will be Romeo
O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard.Being in night, all this is but a dream, Too flattering-sweet to be substantial.
Sweet, so would I:Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.Good night, good night! parting is suchsweet sorrow, That I shall say good night till it be morrow
Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast!Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest!Hence will I to my ghostly father's cell, His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell.