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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And steal immortal blessing from her lips; Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death, Of deaths put on by cunning and forc'd cause; For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in death, No, no, he is dead, For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, Ah sir! ah sir!--Well, death's the end of all. Compare dead happiness with living woe; which have walked in their sleep who have died holily in The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, Should be as mortal as an old man's life? Will tempt unto a close exploit of death? No, no, he is dead, Became him like the leaving it; he died And his commission to employ those soldiers, When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, And humbly beg the death upon my knee, Lamentings heard i' the air, strange screams of death; Or die a soldier as I liv'd a king. I will with all expedient duty see you: According to agreement within both parties. Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier's debt: Too deep and dead, poor infants, in their graves. From the dead temples of this bloody wretch | In that word's death; no words can that woe sound.-- |