Stratford-upon-Avon.doc

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1、SONNETSWilliam Shakespeare (1564-1616) was born to John Shakespeare and mother Mary Arden some time in late April 1564 in Stratford-upon-Avon. There is no record of his birth, but his baptism was recorded by the church, thus his birthday is assumed to be the 23 of April. His father was a prominent a

2、nd prosperous alderman in the town of Stratford-upon-Avon, and was later granted a coat of arms by the College of Heralds. All that is known of Shakespeares youth is that he presumably attended the Stratford Grammar School, and did not proceed to Oxford or Cambridge. The next record we have of him i

3、s his marriage to Anne Hathaway in 1582. The next year she bore a daughter for him, Susanna, followed by the twins Judith and Hamnet two years later. Seven years later Shakespeare was recognized as an actor, poet, and playwright, when a rival playwright, Robert Greene, referred to him as an upstart

4、crow in A Groatsworth of Wit. A few years later he joined up with one of the most successful acting troupes in London: The Lord Chamberlains Men. When, in 1599, the troupe lost the lease of the theatre where they performed (appropriately called The Theatre), they were wealthy enough to build their o

5、wn theatre across the Thames, south of London, which they called The Globe. The new theatre opened in July of 1599, built from the timbers of The Theatre, with the motto Totus mundus agit histrionem (A whole world of players). When James I came to the throne (1603) the troupe was designated by the n

6、ew king as the Kings Men (or Kings Company). The Letters Patent of the company specifically charged Shakespeare and eight others freely to use and exercise the art and faculty of playing Comedies, Tragedies, Histories, Interludes, Morals, Pastorals, stage plays . as well for recreation of our loving

7、 subjects as for our solace and pleasure. Shakespeare entertained the King and the people for another ten years until June 19, 1613, when a canon fired from the roof of the theatre for a gala performance of Henry VIII set fire to the thatch roof and burned the theatre to the ground. The audience ign

8、ored the smoke from the roof at first, being to absorbed in the play, until the flames caught the walls and the fabric of the curtains. Amazingly there were no casualties, and the next spring the company had the theatre new builded in a far fairer manner than before. Although Shakespeare invested in

9、 the rebuilding, he retired from the stage to the Great House of New Place in Statford that he had purchased in 1597, and some considerable land holdings ,where he continued to write until his death in 1616 on the day of his 52nd birthday.I.FROM fairest creatures we desire increase,That thereby beau

10、tys rose might never die,But as the riper should by time decease,His tender heir might bear his memory:But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes,Feedst thy lightst flame with self-substantial fuel,Making a famine where abundance lies,Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.Thou that art now

11、 the worlds fresh ornamentAnd only herald to the gaudy spring,Within thine own bud buriest thy contentAnd, tender churl, makest waste in niggarding.Pity the world, or else this glutton be,To eat the worlds due, by the grave and thee.II.When forty winters shall beseige thy brow,And dig deep trenches

12、in thy beautys field,Thy youths proud livery, so gazed on now,Will be a tatterd weed, of small worth held:Then being askd where all thy beauty lies,Where all the treasure of thy lusty days,To say, within thine own deep-sunken eyes,Were an all-eating shame and thriftless praise.How much more praise d

13、eserved thy beautys use,If thou couldst answer This fair child of mineShall sum my count and make my old excuse,Proving his beauty by succession thine!This were to be new made when thou art old,And see thy blood warm when thou feelst it cold.III.Look in thy glass, and tell the face thou viewestNow i

14、s the time that face should form another;Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.For where is she so fair whose uneard wombDisdains the tillage of thy husbandry?Or who is he so fond will be the tombOf his self-love, to stop posterity?Thou art thy

15、mothers glass, and she in theeCalls back the lovely April of her prime:So thou through windows of thine age shall seeDespite of wrinkles this thy golden time.But if thou live, rememberd not to be,Die single, and thine image dies with thee.IV.Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spendUpon thyself thy

16、beautys legacy?Natures bequest gives nothing but doth lend,And being frank she lends to those are free.Then, beauteous niggard, why dost thou abuseThe bounteous largess given thee to give?Profitless usurer, why dost thou useSo great a sum of sums, yet canst not live?For having traffic with thyself a

17、lone,Thou of thyself thy sweet self dost deceive.Then how, when nature calls thee to be gone,What acceptable audit canst thou leave?Thy unused beauty must be tombd with thee,Which, used, lives th executor to be.V.Those hours, that with gentle work did frameThe lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell,

18、Will play the tyrants to the very sameAnd that unfair which fairly doth excel:For never-resting time leads summer onTo hideous winter and confounds him there;Sap chequed with frost and lusty leaves quite gone,Beauty oersnowd and bareness every where:Then, were not summers distillation left,A liquid

19、prisoner pent in walls of glass,Beautys effect with beauty were bereft,Nor it nor no remembrance what it was:But flowers distilld though they with winter meet,Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet.VI.Then let not winters ragged hand defaceIn thee thy summer, ere thou be distilld:Ma

20、ke sweet some vial; treasure thou some placeWith beautys treasure, ere it be self-killd.That use is not forbidden usury,Which happies those that pay the willing loan;Thats for thyself to breed another thee,Or ten times happier, be it ten for one;Ten times thyself were happier than thou art,If ten of

21、 thine ten times refigured thee:Then what could death do, if thou shouldst depart,Leaving thee living in posterity?Be not self-willd, for thou art much too fairTo be deaths conquest and make worms thine heir.VII.Lo! in the orient when the gracious lightLifts up his burning head, each under eyeDoth h

22、omage to his new-appearing sight,Serving with looks his sacred majesty;And having climbd the steep-up heavenly hill,Resembling strong youth in his middle age,yet mortal looks adore his beauty still,Attending on his golden pilgrimage;But when from highmost pitch, with weary car,Like feeble age, he re

23、eleth from the day,The eyes, fore duteous, now converted areFrom his low tract and look another way:So thou, thyself out-going in thy noon,Unlookd on diest, unless thou get a son.VIII.Music to hear, why hearst thou music sadly?Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy.Why lovest thou that whic

24、h thou receivest not gladly,Or else receivest with pleasure thine annoy?If the true concord of well-tuned sounds,By unions married, do offend thine ear,They do but sweetly chide thee, who confoundsIn singleness the parts that thou shouldst bear.Mark how one string, sweet husband to another,Strikes e

25、ach in each by mutual ordering,Resembling sire and child and happy motherWho all in one, one pleasing note do sing:Whose speechless song, being many, seeming one,Sings this to thee: thou single wilt prove none.IX.Is it for fear to wet a widows eyeThat thou consumest thyself in single life?Ah! if tho

26、u issueless shalt hap to die.The world will wail thee, like a makeless wife;The world will be thy widow and still weepThat thou no form of thee hast left behind,When every private widow well may keepBy childrens eyes her husbands shape in mind.Look, what an unthrift in the world doth spendShifts but

27、 his place, for still the world enjoys it;But beautys waste hath in the world an end,And kept unused, the user so destroys it.No love toward others in that bosom sitsThat on himself such murderous shame commits.X.For shame! deny that thou bearst love to any,Who for thyself art so unprovident.Grant,

28、if thou wilt, thou art beloved of many,But that thou none lovest is most evident;For thou art so possessd with murderous hateThat gainst thyself thou stickst not to conspire.Seeking that beauteous roof to ruinateWhich to repair should be thy chief desire.O, change thy thought, that I may change my m

29、ind!Shall hate be fairer lodged than gentle love?Be, as thy presence is, gracious and kind,Or to thyself at least kind-hearted prove:Make thee another self, for love of me,That beauty still may live in thine or thee.XI.As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou growestIn one of thine, from that which

30、thou departest;And that fresh blood which youngly thou bestowestThou mayst call thine when thou from youth convertest.Herein lives wisdom, beauty and increase:Without this, folly, age and cold decay:If all were minded so, the times should ceaseAnd threescore year would make the world away.Let those

31、whom Nature hath not made for store,Harsh featureless and rude, barrenly perish:Look, whom she best endowd she gave the more;Which bounteous gift thou shouldst in bounty cherish:She carved thee for her seal, and meant therebyThou shouldst print more, not let that copy die.XII.When I do count the clo

32、ck that tells the time,And see the brave day sunk in hideous night;When I behold the violet past prime,And sable curls all silverd oer with white;When lofty trees I see barren of leavesWhich erst from heat did canopy the herd,And summers green all girded up in sheavesBorne on the bier with white and

33、 bristly beard,Then of thy beauty do I question make,That thou among the wastes of time must go,Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsakeAnd die as fast as they see others grow;And nothing gainst Times scythe can make defenceSave breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.XIII.O, that you we

34、re yourself! but, love, you areNo longer yours than you yourself here live:Against this coming end you should prepare,And your sweet semblance to some other give.So should that beauty which you hold in leaseFind no determination: then you wereYourself again after yourselfs decease,When your sweet is

35、sue your sweet form should bear.Who lets so fair a house fall to decay,Which husbandry in honour might upholdAgainst the stormy gusts of winters dayAnd barren rage of deaths eternal cold?O, none but unthrifts! Dear my love, you knowYou had a father: let your son say so.XIV.Not from the stars do I my

36、 judgment pluck;And yet methinks I have astronomy,But not to tell of good or evil luck,Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons quality;Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell,Pointing to each his thunder, rain and wind,Or say with princes if it shall go well,By oft predict that I in heaven find:But from

37、thine eyes my knowledge I derive,And, constant stars, in them I read such artAs truth and beauty shall together thrive,If from thyself to store thou wouldst convert;Or else of thee this I prognosticate:Thy end is truths and beautys doom and date.XV.When I consider every thing that growsHolds in perf

38、ection but a little moment,That this huge stage presenteth nought but showsWhereon the stars in secret influence comment;When I perceive that men as plants increase,Cheered and chequed even by the self-same sky,Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height decrease,And wear their brave state out of memory;

39、Then the conceit of this inconstant staySets you most rich in youth before my sight,Where wasteful Time debateth with Decay,To change your day of youth to sullied night;And all in war with Time for love of you,As he takes from you, I engraft you new.XVI.But wherefore do not you a mightier wayMake wa

40、r upon this bloody tyrant, Time?And fortify yourself in your decayWith means more blessed than my barren rhyme?Now stand you on the top of happy hours,And many maiden gardens yet unsetWith virtuous wish would bear your living flowers,Much liker than your painted counterfeit:So should the lines of li

41、fe that life repair,Which this, Times pencil, or my pupil pen,Neither in inward worth nor outward fair,Can make you live yourself in eyes of men.To give away yourself keeps yourself still,And you must live, drawn by your own sweet skill.XVII.Who will believe my verse in time to come,If it were filld

42、 with your most high deserts?Though yet, heaven knows, it is but as a tombWhich hides your life and shows not half your parts.If I could write the beauty of your eyesAnd in fresh numbers number all your graces,The age to come would say This poet lies:Such heavenly touches neer touchd earthly faces.S

43、o should my papers yellowd with their ageBe scornd like old men of less truth than tongue,And your true rights be termd a poets rageAnd stretched metre of an antique song:But were some child of yours alive that time,You should live twice; in it and in my rhyme.XVIII.Shall I compare thee to a summers

44、 day?Thou art more lovely and more temperate:Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,And summers lease hath all too short a date:Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,And often is his gold complexion dimmd;And every fair from fair sometime declines,By chance or natures changing course untri

45、mmd;But thy eternal summer shall not fadeNor lose possession of that fair thou owest;Nor shall Death brag thou wanderst in his shade,When in eternal lines to time thou growest:So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,So long lives this and this gives life to thee.XIX.Devouring Time, blunt thou the

46、 lions paws,And make the earth devour her own sweet brood;Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tigers jaws,And burn the long-lived phoenix in her blood;Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleets,And do whateer thou wilt, swift-footed Time,To the wide world and all her fading sweets;But I forbid thee

47、 one most heinous crime:O, carve not with thy hours my loves fair brow,Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen;Him in thy course untainted do allowFor beautys pattern to succeeding men.Yet, do thy worst, old Time: despite thy wrong,My love shall in my verse ever live young.XX.A womans face with Natures own hand paintedHast thou, the master-mistress of my passion;A womans gentle heart, but not acquain