Hello, today is the first of a new weekly podcast where I take an old poem and give it a rigorous going over before I “go off on one”.

Today we’re looking at William Shakespeare’s long sigh of exasperation (and possible guilt trip), Sonnet 66.

Introduction 00.00 Background 07:36 Notes on the form 17.18 Sonnet 66 by William Shakespeare 20.31 Analysis: 21.31 Niall goes off on one..... Woo!!! 30:37

SONNET 66

Tir'd with all these, for restful death I cry, As, to behold desert a beggar born, And needy nothing trimm'd in jollity, And purest faith unhappily forsworn, And guilded honour shamefully misplaced, And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted, And right perfection wrongfully disgraced, And strength by limping sway disabled, And art made tongue-tied by authority, And folly (doctor-like) controlling skill, And simple truth miscall'd simplicity, And captive good attending captain ill: Tired with all these, from these would I be gone, Save that, to die, I leave my love alone.