William+Shakespeare

Brianna Vetro
 * **Who** || **Birth - Death** ||
 * William Shakespeare || (Birth Unknown) but baptized 26 April 1564 and died 23 April 1616 (aged 52) ||

__//**Signature:**//__

__//**Biography:**//__

William Shakespeare is regarded as one of the greatest writers in history. He wrote 154 sonnets, more than 30 plays, and wrote some short stories. Though no one recognized his talent as much as they did after he died. When he was younger, he moved to London to become an actor, but because of the Plague, most theaters were closed during the time he stayed there. One of his Patrons from before funded him some money and then Shakespeare wrote back to him poetry. Some of his first published. His most famous plays are often the tragedies like Hamlet and Romeo and Juliet. His poems are all pretty deep, too deep for me to decipher. Sadly, with all great things there are conspiracies some good some bad. Some people believe that it was not Shakespeare but Christopher Marlowe, Queen Elizabeth, or Edward De Vere who wrote the plays. I like to disagree. There is also some who believe Shakespeare wrote the King James Version of the bible. So in his life he accomplished much more than the average person, and achieved one of his goals of becoming famous.

//__**POEMS:**__//

__//**Fear No More**//__

Fear no more the heat o' the sun; Nor the furious winter's rages, Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages; Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney sweepers come to dust.

Fear no more the frown of the great, Thou art past the tyrant's stroke: Care no more to clothe and eat; To thee the reed is as the oak: The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this, and come to dust.

Fear no more the lightning-flash, Nor the all-dread thunder-stone; Fear not slander, censure rash; Thou hast finished joy and moan; All lovers young, all lovers must Consign to thee, and come to dust.

No exorciser harm thee! Nor no witchcraft charm thee! Ghost unlaid forbear thee! Nothing ill come near thee! Quiet consummation have; And renowned be thy grave!


 * __Bridal Song__**

ROSES, their sharp spines being gone, Not royal in their smells alone, But in their hue; Maiden pinks, of odour faint, Daisies smell-less, yet most quaint, And sweet thyme true;

Primrose, firstborn child of Ver; Merry springtime's harbinger, With her bells dim; Oxlips in their cradles growing, Marigolds on death-beds blowing, Larks'-heels trim;

All dear Nature's children sweet Lie 'fore bride and bridegroom's feet, Blessing their sense! Not an angel of the air, Bird melodious or bird fair, Be absent hence!

The crow, the slanderous cuckoo, nor The boding raven, nor chough hoar, Nor chattering pye, May on our bride-house perch or sing, Or with them any discord bring, But from it fly!