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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Pour all your tears! I am your sorrow's nurse, And make poor England weep in streams of blood! Evermore weeping for your cousin's death? There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk. I heard a voice cry, "Sleep no more! Which you weep for. Ah, who shall hinder me to wail and weep, Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs, and weeps: It weeps, it bleeds; and each new day a gash Do ebb and flow with tears; the bark thy body is, And Tybalt calls; and then on Romeo cries,