Oyonale - Créations 3D et expériences graphiques
ShakeSpam
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choose but weep, to think they would lay him i' the cold ground. Harpier cries:--"tis time, 'tis time. Wash they his wounds with tears: mine shall be spent, And bid her wipe her weeping eyes withal. And Tybalt calls; and then on Romeo cries, Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment. And damn'd be him that first cries, "Hold, enough!" And that dear saint which then I weeping follow'd; There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk. O, I cry you mercy; you are the singer: I will say for you. Who,--raging with thy tears and they with them,-- Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect, The tears have got small victory by that; Cry but 'Ah me!' pronounce but Love and dove; And wet his grave with my repentant tears,-- Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering.-- Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary For me to joy and weep their gain and loss: Shows itself pure: he weeps for what is done. New widows howl; new orphans cry; new sorrows Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment.