Venus and Adonis (Modern)

Author: William Shakespeare

Editor: Hardy M. Cook

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Venus and Adonis (Modern)
- Work
- Stanza
  1. Dedication
  2. 1 — 5
  3. 6 — 10
  4. 11 — 15
  5. 16 — 20
  6. 21 — 25
  7. 26 — 30
  8. 31 — 35
  9. 36 — 40
  10. 41 — 45
  11. 46 — 50
  12. 51 — 55
  13. 56 — 60
  14. 61 — 65
  15. 66 — 70
  16. 71 — 75
  17. 76 — 80
  18. 81 — 85
  19. 86 — 90
  20. 91 — 95
  21. 96 — 100
  22. 101 — 105
  23. 106 — 110
  24. 111 — 115
  25. 116 — 120
  26. 121 — 125
  27. 126 — 130
  28. 131 — 135
  29. 136 — 140
  30. 141 — 145
  31. 146 — 150
  32. 151 — 155
  33. 156 — 160
  34. 161 — 165
  35. 166 — 170
  36. 171 — 175
  37. 176 — 180
  38. 181 — 185
  39. 186 — 190
  40. 191 — 195
  41. 196 — 199
Venus and Adonis (Quarto 1, 1592-3)
- Work
- Stanza
  1. Title Page
  2. Dedication
  3. 2 — 6
  4. 7 — 11
  5. 12 — 16
  6. 17 — 21
  7. 22 — 26
  8. 27 — 31
  9. 32 — 36
  10. 37 — 41
  11. 42 — 46
  12. 47 — 51
  13. 52 — 56
  14. 57 — 61
  15. 62 — 66
  16. 67 — 71
  17. 72 — 76
  18. 77 — 81
  19. 82 — 86
  20. 87 — 91
  21. 92 — 96
  22. 97 — 101
  23. 102 — 106
  24. 107 — 111
  25. 112 — 116
  26. 117 — 121
  27. 122 — 126
  28. 127 — 131
  29. 132 — 136
  30. 137 — 141
  31. 142 — 146
  32. 147 — 151
  33. 152 — 156
  34. 157 — 161
  35. 162 — 166
  36. 167 — 171
  37. 172 — 176
  38. 177 — 181
  39. 182 — 186
  40. 187 — 191
  41. 192 — 196
  42. 197 — 199
- Page
  1. 2
  2. 4
  3. 5
  4. 6
  5. 7
  6. 8
  7. 9
  8. 10
  9. 11
  10. 12
  11. 13
  12. 14
  13. 15
  14. 16
  15. 17
  16. 18
  17. 19
  18. 20
  19. 21
  20. 22
  21. 23
  22. 24
  23. 25
  24. 26
  25. 27
  26. 28
  27. 29
  28. 30
  29. 31
  30. 32
  31. 33
  32. 34
  33. 35
  34. 36
  35. 37
  36. 38
  37. 39
  38. 40
  39. 41
  40. 42
  41. 43
  42. 44
  43. 45
  44. 46
  45. 47
  46. 48
  47. 49
  48. 50
  49. 51
  50. 52
  51. 53
  52. 54
  53. 55

¶She bows her head, the new-sprung flower to smell,
¶Comparing it to her Adonis' breath,
¶And says within her bosom it shall dwell,
¶Since he himself is reft from her by death.
1175_She crops the stalk, and in the breach appears
¶_Green-dropping sap, which she compares to tears.

¶"Poor flower," quoth she, "this was thy father's guise,
¶Sweet issue of a more sweet-smelling sire,
¶For every little grief to wet his eyes;
1180To grow unto himself was his desire;
¶_And so 'tis thine; but know it is as good
¶_To wither in my breast as in his blood.

¶"Here was thy father's bed, here in my breast;
¶Thou art the next of blood, and 'tis thy right.
1185Lo, in this hollow cradle take thy rest;
¶My throbbing heart shall rock thee day and night.
¶_There shall not be one minute in an hour
¶_Wherein I will not kiss my sweet love's flower."

¶Thus weary of the world, away she hies
1190And yokes her silver doves, by whose swift aide,
¶Their mistress mounted through the empty skies
¶In her light chariot, quickly is conveyed,
¶_Holding their course to Paphos, where their queen
¶_Means to immure herself and not be seen.

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Venus and Adonis (Modern)

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Venus and Adonis (Modern)