Oyonale - Créations 3D et expériences graphiques
ShakeSpam
Cliquer sur les vers pour les voir dans leur contexte. Les pièces de Shakespeare sont disponibles auprès du Projet Gutenberg.
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My tongue could never learn sweet smoothing word; Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily; Foes to my rest, and my sweet sleep's disturbers, What doth her beauty serve but as a note That would with treason wound this fair land's peace! Ye say honestly: rest you merry! Tempering extremities with extreme sweet. When holy Harry died, and my sweet son. The fair Ophelia!--Nymph, in thy orisons The harlot's cheek, beautied with plastering art, What, the fair Ophelia? Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting; My words would bandy her to my sweet love, Of limping winter treads, even such delight See where she comes from shrift with merry look. Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst. Well, sir; my mistress is the sweetest lady.--Lord, Lord! Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, And in their summer beauty kiss'd each other. | Ere one can say It lightens. Sweet, good night! |