WHEN in disgrace with fortune and mens eyes,
I all alone beweepe my outcast state,

And trouble deafe heaven with my bootlesse crics,
And looke upon my selfe, and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possest,
Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope,
With what I most injoy contented least:
Yet in these thoughts my selfe almost despising,
Haply I thinke on thee, and then my state,
(Like to the larke, at breake of day arising

P

fortunes of the world unsuccessfully, he never rewarded his failure by taking immortality as a secret bride. The reason of this we believe to have been the extreme universality of his genius. No after personal consideration of any sort would mix itself with what belonged only to the great heart of the WORLD.

Shakspeare died, as we have seen, when his life was what is usually considered a little past the prime. Thought, however, would seem to have done the work of years. He talks of his days as "past the best" a considerable time before he died; of his face as shown him in his glass, "bated and chopp'd by tann'd antiquity;" and of hours having "drained his blood and fill'd his brow with lines and wrinkles." The stanza which anticipates a "confin'd doom" will also be noticed, and that profoundly pathetic cry for restful death, which seems to us to fix the paternity of Hamlet. Of his general personal appearance we have no authentic account; but this may be gathered, perhaps, from some of these quotations. It is clear, we think, that he was afflicted with lameness, or at least a weakness in the legs. In proof of this we equally rely on the sonnets in which the circumstance itself is alluded to, as in those which so plainly intimate his frequent habit of riding on horseback. In connexion with the latter another anecdote will be observed, somewhat startling at first, but redeemed by a pretty touch of tenderness.

WHEN in disgrace with fortune and mens eyes,
I all alone beweepe my outcast state,

And trouble deafe heaven with my bootlesse cries,
And looke upon my selfe, and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possest,
Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope,
With what I most injoy contented least:
Yet in these thoughts my selfe almost despising,
Haply I thinke on thee, and then my state,
(Like to the larke, at breake of day arising

P

From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy sweet love remembred, such welth brings,
That then I scorne to change my state with kings.

Let me confesse that we two must be twaine,
Although our undevided loves are one:
So shall those blots that do with me remaine,
Without thy helpe, by me be borne alone,
In our two loves there is but one respect,
Though in our lives a seperable spight,
Which though it alter not love's sole effect,
Yet doth it steale sweet houres from love's delight.
I may not evermore acknowledge thee,
Least my bewailed guilt should doe thee shame;
Nor thou with publike kindnesse honour me,
Unlesse thou take that honour from thy name :
But do not so; I love thee in such sort,

As thou being mine, mine is thy good report.

As a decrepit father takes delight
To see his active child doe deeds of youth,
So I, made lame by fortune's dearest spight,
Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth;
For whether beautie, birth, or wealth, or wit,
Or any of these all, or all, or more,
Intitled in their parts do crowned sit,

I make my love engrafted to this store:

So then I am not lame, poore, nor dispised,

Whilst that this shadow doth such substance give, That I in thy aboundance am suffic'd,

And by a part of all thy glory live.

Looke what is best, that best I wish in thee;
This wish I have; then ten times happy me!

No longer mourne for me when I am dead,
Than you shall heare the surly sullen bell
Give warning to the world that I am fled

From this vile world, with vilest wormes to dwell:
Nay, if you read this line, remember not
The hand that writ it; for I love you so,
That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot,
If thinking on me then should make you woe.
O if (I say) you looke upon this verse,
When I, perhaps, compounded am with clay,

Doe not so much as my poore name reherse;
But let your love even with my life decay :

Least the wise world should looke into your mone,
And mocke you with me after I am gone.

Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault,
And I will comment upon that offence;

Speak of my lamenesse, and I straight will hault;
Against thy reasons making no defence.
Thou canst not, love, disgrace me halfe so ill,
To set a forme upon desired change,

As Ile myself disgrace: knowing thy will,
I will acquaintance strangle, and looke strange;
Be absent from thy walkes; and on my tongue
Thy sweet beloved name no more shall dwell;
Lest I (too much profane) should do it wrong,
And haply of our old acquaintance tell.

For thee, against my selfe Ile vow debate,

For I must nere love him whom thou dost hate.

Alas, 'tis true, I have gone here and there,

And made my selfe a motley to the view,

Gor'd mine owne thoughts, sold cheape what is most deare,
Made old offences of affections new.

Most true it is, that I have lookt on truth
Askaunce and strangely; but by all above,
These blenches gave my heart another youth,
And worst assaies proved thee my best of love.
Now all is done, have what shall have no end:
Mine appetite I never more will grinde
On newer proofe, to trie an older friend,
A god in love, to whom I am confined.

Then give me welcome, next my heaven the best,
Even to thy pure and most most loving breast.

O for my sake doe you with fortune chide,
The guiltie goddess of my harmfull deeds,
That did not better for my life provide,

Than publick meanes, which publick manners breeds.
Thence comes it that my name receives a brand,

And almost thence my nature is subdu'd

To what it workes in, like the dyer's hand.
Pitty me then, and wish I were reneu'd ;
Whilst, like a willing patient, I will drinke