Ill News
Romeo: If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep,
My dreams presage some joyful news at hand,
My bosom's Lord sits lightly in his throne:
And all this day an unaccustom'd spirit,
Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.
I dreamt my Lady came and found me dead,
(Strange dream that gives a dead man leave to think)
And breath'd such life with kisses in my lips,
That I reviv'd and was an Emperor.
Ah me, how sweet is love itself possess'd
When but love's shadows are so rich in joy.
My dreams presage some joyful news at hand,
My bosom's Lord sits lightly in his throne:
And all this day an unaccustom'd spirit,
Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.
I dreamt my Lady came and found me dead,
(Strange dream that gives a dead man leave to think)
And breath'd such life with kisses in my lips,
That I reviv'd and was an Emperor.
Ah me, how sweet is love itself possess'd
When but love's shadows are so rich in joy.
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