Oyonale - 3D art and graphic experiments
ShakeSpam
Click on the verses to see them in context. Shakespeare's plays are available from the Gutenberg Projet.
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Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires; | I heard a voice cry, "Sleep no more! |
Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment. Why do you weep so oft, and beat your breast, All this is comfort; wherefore weep I, then? And make poor England weep in streams of blood! Wash they his wounds with tears: mine shall be spent, Edward and York. Then haply will she weep: Madam, my mother, I do cry you mercy; Poor soul, thy face is much abus'd with tears. Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears: