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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The courtier's, scholar's, soldier's, eye, tongue, sword, I will not be afraid of death and bane, Poor Clarence, by thy guile betray'd to death! And so did I; well, we were born to die. Hold fast the mortal sword, and, like good men, No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp; - Death of thy soul! those linen cheeks of thine
Good grandam, tell us, is our father dead? But die thy thoughts when thy first lord is dead. Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice And mortal eyes cannot endure the devil.-- Became him like the leaving it; he died Who knows not he is dead! Who knows he is? Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interr'd. To keep those many many bodies safe He should the bearers put to sudden death, And die ere men can say God save the queen! It may be death.