|Her eyes in heaven|
Would through the airy region stream so bright
That birds would sing and think it were not night.
Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?
What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet.
With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls;
For stoney limits cannot hold love out,
And what love can do, that dares love attempt.
|If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully.|
Or if thou thinkest I am too quickly won
I'll frown, and be perverse, and say thee nay.
But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true
Than those that have more cunning to be strange.
Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow
That I shall say good night till it be morrow.