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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O wretched state! O bosom black as death! Direct from the grower so you get twice the freshness at half the price- Would create soldiers, make our women fight, If thou wilt outstrip death, go cross the seas, I would they were, that I might die at once; What sights of ugly death within my eyes! Yes, he is dead: how wilt thou do for father? But like a man he died. These dead men's tombs. Who is it that consorts, so late, the dead? Ah sir! ah sir!--Well, death's the end of all.
In deadly hate the one against the other: Like powder in a skilless soldier's flask, Death lies on her like an untimely frost