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Click on the verses to see them in context. Shakespeare's plays are available from the Gutenberg Projet.

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Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment.

 And that dear saint which then I weeping follow'd; There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk. Ay, millstones; as he lesson'd us to weep. How can we aid you with our kindred tears? We cannot without circumstance descry. Pour all your tears! I am your sorrow's nurse, That tears shall drown the wind.--I have no spur