Bridal Song

ROSES, their sharp spines being gone,
Not royal in their smells alone,
   But in their hue;
Maiden pinks, of odour faint,
Daisies smell-less, yet most quaint,
   And sweet thyme true;

Primrose, firstborn child of Ver;
Merry springtime's harbinger,
   With her bells dim;
Oxlips in their cradles growing,
Marigolds on death-beds blowing,
   Larks'-heels trim;

All dear Nature's children sweet
Lie 'fore bride and bridegroom's feet,
   Blessing their sense!
Not an angel of the air,
Bird melodious or bird fair,
   Be absent hence!

The crow, the slanderous cuckoo, nor
The boding raven, nor chough hoar,
   Nor chattering pye,
May on our bride-house perch or sing,
Or with them any discord bring,
   But from it fly!

by William Shakespeare

Comments (18)

Really very beautiful poem
Blow, Blow... I like the sound of that! Anyone wanna help me understand that a bit more? ? ! ;)
May on our bride-house perch or sing. Nicely written. SYLVA-ONYEMA UBA
The eggplant is a berry
Very beaitifiul poems
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