Internet Shakespeare Editions

About this text

  • Title: Venus and Adonis (Modern)
  • Editor: Hardy M. Cook
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-411-0

    Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: Hardy M. Cook
    Peer Reviewed

    Venus and Adonis (Modern)

    With this he breaketh from the sweet embrace
    Of those fair arms which bound him to her breast,
    And homeward through the dark laund runs apace,
    Leaves love upon her back, deeply distressed.
    815 Look how a bright star shooteth from the sky,
    So glides he in the night from Venus' eye.
    Which after him she darts, as one on shore
    Gazing upon a late embarkèd friend
    Till the wild waves will have him seen no more,
    820Whose ridges with the meeting clouds contend.
    So did the merciless and pitchy night,
    Fold in the object that did feed her sight.
    Whereat amazed, as one that unaware
    Hath dropped a precious jewel in the flood,
    825Or stonisht, as night wanderers often are,
    Their light blown out in some mistrustful wood,
    Even so confounded in the dark she lay,
    Having lost the fair discovery of her way.
    And now she beats her heart, whereat it groans,
    830That all the neighbor caves, as seeming troubled,
    Make verbal repetition of her moans;
    Passion on passion, deeply is redoubled.
    "Ay me," she cries, and twenty times, "Woe, Woe,"
    And twenty echoes twenty times cry so.
    835She marking them begins a wailing note
    And sings extemporally a woeful ditty
    How love makes young men thrall and old men dote,
    How love is wise in folly, foolish witty.
    Her heavy anthem still concludes in woe,
    840 And still the choir of echoes answer so.