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- 1609
- THE PHOENIX AND THE TURTLE
- by William Shakespeare
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- Let the bird of loudest lay,
- On the sole Arabian tree,
- Herald sad and trumpet be,
- To whose sound chaste wings obey.
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- But thou shrieking harbinger,
- Foul precurrer of the fiend,
- Augur of the fever's end,
- To this troop come thou not near!
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- From this session interdict
- Every fowl of tyrant wing,
- Save the eagle, feath'red king:
- Keep the obsequy so strict.
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- Let the priest in surplice white,
- That defunctive music can,
- Be the death-divining swan,
- Lest the requiem lack his right.
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- And thou treble-dated crow,
- That thy sable gender mak'st
- With the breath thou giv'st and tak'st,
- 'Mongst our mourners shalt thou go.
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- Here the anthem doth commence:
- Love and constancy is dead;
- Phoenix and the turtle fled
- In a mutual flame from hence.
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- So they loved, as love in twain
- Had the essence but in one;
- Two distincts, division none:
- Number there in love was slain.
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- Hearts remote, yet not asunder;
- Distance, and no space was seen
- 'Twixt this turtle and his queen:
- But in them it were a wonder.
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- So between them love did shine,
- That the turtle saw his right
- Flaming in the phoenix' sight;
- Either was the other's mine.
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- Property was thus appalled,
- That the self was not the same;
- Single nature's double name
- Neither two nor one was called.
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- Reason, in itself confounded,
- Saw division grow together,
- To themselves yet either neither,
- Simple were so well compounded;
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- That it cried, How true a twain
- Seemeth this concordant one!
- Love hath reason, reason none,
- If what parts can so remain.
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- Whereupon it made this threne
- To the phoenix and the dove,
- Co-supremes and stars of love,
- As chorus to their tragic scene.
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- THRENOS
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- Beauty, truth, and rarity,
- Grace in all simplicity,
- Here enclosed, in cinders lie.
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- Death is now the phoenix' nest;
- And the turtle's loyal breast
- To eternity doth rest.
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- Leaving no posterity,
- 'Twas not their infirmity,
- It was married chastity.
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- Truth may seem, but cannot be;
- Beauty brag, but 'tis not she;
- Truth and beauty buried be.
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- To this urn let those repair
- That are either true or fair;
- For these dead birds sigh a prayer.
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- -THE END-
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