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, mickle is the powerful grace that lies But you have power in me as in a kinsman. Death makes no conquest of this conqueror; Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof! And part in just proportion our small power.-- May be the devil: and the devil hath power That fled the snares of watchful tyranny; And lead thy daughter to a conqueror's bed; O wicked wit and gifts, that have the power The tyrant's people on both sides do fight; To Stanley's regiment; bid him bring his power Your wives shall welcome home the conquerors; Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet Might, by the sovereign power you have of us, To whom I will retail my conquest won, Six or seven thousand is their utmost power. With barefac'd power sweep him from my sight, Tell me, thou unknown power,-- Death makes no conquest of this conqueror; Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above Will conquer him!--awake, and win the day! But passion lends them power, time means, to meet,