Author William Shakespeare Why, there's no remedy. 'Tis the curse of service, Preferment goes by letter and affection, And not by old gradation, where each second Stood heir to th' first. I, i Now, sir, be judge yourself Whether I in any just term am affin'd To love the Moor. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 Average: 4 (2 votes) Rate Log in or register to post comments