Let the bird of loudest lay
On the sole Arabian tree
Herald sad and trumpet be
To whose sound chaste wings obey
But thou shrieking harbinger
Foul precurrer of the fiend
Augur of the fever's end
To this troop come thou not near!
From this session interdict
Every fowl of tyrant wing
Save the eagle, feather'd king:
Keep the obsequy so strict
Let the priest in surplice white
That defunctive music can
Be the death-diving swan
Lest the requiem lack his right
And thou treble-dated crow
That thy sable gender makest
With the breath thou givest and takest
'Mongst our mourners shalt thou go
Here the anthem doth commence:
Love and constancy is dead;
Phoenix and the turtle fled
In a mutual flame from hence
So they loved, as love in twain
Had the essence but in one;
Two distincts, division none:
Number there in love was slain
Hearts remote, yet not asunder;
Distance, and no space was seen
'Twixt the turtle and his queen:
But in them it were a wonder
So between them love did shine
That the turtle saw his right
Flaming in the phoenix' sight;
Either was the other's mine
Property was thus appalled
That the self was not the same;
Single nature's double name
Neither two nor one was called
Reason, in itself confounded
Saw division grow together
To themselves yet either neither
Simple were so well compounded
That it cried, how true a twain
Seemeth this concordant one!
Love hath reason, reason none
If what parts can so remain
Whereupon it made this threne
To the phoenix and the dove
Co-supremes and stars of love
As chorus to their tragic scene
Threnos
Beauty, truth, and rarity
Grace in all simplicity
Here enclosed in cinders lie
Death is now the phoenix' nest
And the turtle's loyal breast
To eternity doth rest
Leaving no posterity
'Twas not their infirmity
It was married chastity
Truth may seem, but cannot be:
Beauty brag, but 'tis not she;
Truth and beauty buried be
To this urn let those repair
That are either true or fair
For these dead birds sigh a prayer
Written by : William Shakespeare
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