My troubled pounding heart,
Always marches smoothly,
For the sweet world of stage light.
For players never create a part,
Nor an art,
Better than this heavenly stuff,
Made from flesh,
Breath,
And true human circumstance.
(Courtesy of Shakespearean Magnetic Poetry)
Oct 20, 2012
Oct 20, 2012 at 1:51 AM UTC
My troubled pounding heart,
Always marches smoothly,
For the sweet world of stage light.
For players never create a part,
Nor an art,
Better than this heavenly stuff,
Made from flesh,
Breath,
And true human circumstance.
(Courtesy of Shakespearean Magnetic Poetry)
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