Star Crossed Lovers

In fair Verona where we lay our scene,
Two households, alike in dignity,
A tale of love, forbidden and unseen,
A tragedy that ends in agony.

Oh, Romeo, oh Juliet,
Two hearts entwined by fate's cruel jest.
In love so deep, in death they met,
Their spirits soar, forever blest.

Young Juliet, a Capulet so fair,
Her beauty like the dawn's first light.
Sweet Romeo, a Montague so rare,
Both met beneath the moonlit night.

On Juliet’s balcony, their love was sworn,
With whispered vows beneath the starry skies.
Their future bright, yet filled with feuding's scorn,
A love that fate would later compromise.

Tybalt's wrath did spill dear Mercutio's blood,
Which stirred in Romeo vengeful fire.
With deadly steel he wrought his mournful flood,
And thus was banished from his heart's desire.

The Nurse, she knew of Juliet’s hidden plight,
A confidante in love’s forbidden scheme.
She helped the lovers in their secret flight,
And stood beside them in their fervent dream.

Good Friar Lawrence, wise and kindly soul,
In secret wed the star-crossed pair.
With hope to mend the feud's dark, bitter toll,
Yet fate decreed their love's despair.

Juliet took the potion, cold and deep,
From the apothecary’s secret store.
She feigned her death, in timeless, death-like sleep,
To be with Romeo evermore.

Romeo, hearing of her deathly plight,
Did buy a poison, swift and strong.
He kissed her lips beneath the pallid light,
And drank the draught that ended wrong.

Juliet woke to find her love was gone,
His lifeless form, her heart did break.
She took his dagger, with the coming dawn,
And with one thrust, her own life she did take.

Thus ends the tale of lovers' mournful plight,
A story told for ages hence.
In shadows deep or morning's golden light,
Their love remains, intense, immense.

O! there are spirits of the air,
And genii of the evening breeze,
And gentle ghosts, with eyes as fair
As star-beams among twilight trees:—
Such lovely ministers to meet
Oft hast thou turned from men thy lonely feet.

With mountain winds, and babbling springs,
And moonlight seas, that are the voice
Of these inexplicable things,
Thou didst hold commune, and rejoice
When they did answer thee; but they
Cast, like a worthless boon, thy love away.

And thou hast sought in starry eyes
Beams that were never meant for thine,
Another's wealth:—tame sacrifice
To a fond faith! still dost thou pine?
Still dost thou hope that greeting hands,
Voice, looks, or lips, may answer thy demands?

Ah! wherefore didst thou build thine hope
On the false earth's inconstancy?
Did thine own mind afford no scope
Of love, or moving thoughts to thee?
That natural scenes or human smiles
Could steal the power to wind thee in their wiles?

Yes, all the faithless smiles are fled
Whose falsehood left thee broken-hearted;
The glory of the moon is dead;
Night's ghosts and dreams have now departed;
Thine own soul still is true to thee,
But changed to a foul fiend through misery.

This fiend, whose ghastly presence ever
Beside thee like thy shadow hangs,
Dream not to chase;—the mad endeavour
Would scourge thee to severer pangs.
Be as thou art. Thy settled fate,
Dark as it is, all change would aggravate.