“Ophelia” by Arthur Hughes
“To the celestial, and my soul’s idol, the most beautified Ophelia—-
Doubt thou the stars are fire,
Doubt that the sun doth move;
Doubt truth to be a liar,
But never doubt I love.
O dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers. I have
not art to reckon my groans; but that I love thee best,
O most best, believe it. Adieu.
Thine evermore, most dear lady, whilst this
machine is to him, HAMLET.”
in a letter written to Ophelia