Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypress let me be laid ; Fly away, fly away, breath ; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O, prepare it ! My part of death, no one so true Did share it. Not a flower, not a flower... The Plays of William Shakspeare: Sketch of the life of Shakspeare. Tempest ... - Página 277por William Shakespeare - 1811Visualização integral - Acerca deste livro
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...away, breath; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O, prepare itl My part of death, no one so true Did share it. Not...flower, not a flower sweet, On my black coffin let there be strown; Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown. A thousand... | |
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