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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Arm, fight, and conquer, for fair England's sake! The harlot's cheek, beautied with plastering art, The king, that calls your beauteous daughter wife, It is supposed, the fair creature died,-- Because sweet flowers are slow and weeds make haste. Why did you laugh then, when I said 'Man delights not me'? And cheer his grace with quick and merry eyes. Come,sisters, cheer we up his sprites, Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide. Ah me! how sweet is love itself possess'd, Tempering extremities with extreme sweet. The devil to his fellow; and delight Welcome, sweet prince, to London, to your chamber. To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath Sweet Blunt, make some good means to speak with him That's a fair thought to lie between maids' legs. Thy beauty hath made me effeminate And what obscur'd in this fair volume lies Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine. Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest Unfix his earth-bound root? Sweet bodements, good! When holy Harry died, and my sweet son. To live an unstain'd wife to my sweet love. How now, sweet queen!