Shakespeare help?

The human mortals want their winter here;


No night is now with hymn or carol blest:


Therefore the moon, the governess of floods,


Pale in her anger, washes all the air,


That rheumatic diseases do abound:


And thorough this distemperature we see


The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts


Far in the fresh lap of the crimson rose,


And on old Hiems' thin and icy crown


An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds


Is, as in mockery, set: the spring, the summer,


The childing autumn, angry winter, change


Their wonted liveries, and the mazed world,


By their increase, now knows not which is which:


And this same progeny of evils comes


From our debate, from our dissension;


We are their parents and original.

















....walk me through it, please.

Shakespeare help?
start from here:http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Sha...