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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On pure heart's love, to greet the tender princes.-- Till thou shalt know the reason of my love: Upon your grace [to the queen], but with all duteous love And with my hand I seal my true heart's love. The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love, You cannot call it love; for at your age But my true love is grown to such excess, Richard of York! how fares our loving brother? He for his father's sake so loves the prince If you do love my brother, hate not me; O love! O life!--not life, but love in death! Whose loves I may not drop, but wail his fall I will requite your loves. So, fare ye well: O that I were a glove upon that hand, It is my lady; O, it is my love! If thou didst ever thy dear father love-- That thou dost love my daughter from thy soul: This love feel I, that feel no love in this. Can lesser hide his love or hate than he; Be the attorney of my love to her: From whence himself does fly? He loves us not: This mad young man. But so much was our love