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Click on the verses to see them in context. Shakespeare's plays are available from the Gutenberg Projet.

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Pour all your tears! I am your sorrow's nurse,

 For me to joy and weep their gain and loss: Cry but 'Ah me!' pronounce but Love and dove; Will want true colour; tears perchance for blood. Bid Gloster think of this, and he will weep. No, coz, I rather weep. 
  • The cry is still, "They come:" our castle's strength
 There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk. I would these dewy tears were from the ground. In 72 hours we can tell you everything to allow you to make an informed decision.!! Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears Pour all your tears! I am your sorrow's nurse, Aroint thee, witch! the rump-fed ronyon cries. I heard the owl scream and the crickets cry. It weeps, it bleeds; and each new day a gash