poetry-new moon by william shakespeare

O, here
will i set up my everlasting rest,
and shake
the yoke of inauspicious stars
from this world-wearied flesh.

Eyes,
look your last....
arms,
take your last embrace...
and lips,
o you the doors of breath,
seal with a righteous kiss
a dateless bargain
to engrossing death!

come, bitter conduct
come, unsavoury guide!

thou desperate pilot,
now at once run
on the dashing rocks
thy sea-sick weary bark!

here's to my love!

o true apothecary
thy drugs are quick

thus
with a kiss...
...I die...