Ah, dear Juliet,
Why art thou yet so fair?
I still will stay with thee,
And never from this palace of dim night
Will I set up my everlasting rest,
And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars
From this world-wearied flesh.
Eyes, look your last.
Arms, take your last embrace.
And, lips, O you
The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss
Here’s to my love!