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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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Had I but time,--as this fell sergeant, death,

 Let every soldier hew him down a bough, Death of thy soul! those linen cheeks of thine He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear Is Clarence dead? the order was revers'd. He cannot live, I hope; and must not die Soldiers, sir. Claim Yours Now  Witness my son, now in the shade of death; Doth the news hold of good King Edward's death? That living mortals, hearing them, run mad;-- Died every day she lived. Fare-thee-well!