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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Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment. Mass, and well said; a merry whoreson, ha! From the fair forehead of an innocent love, - Our ancient word of courage, fair Saint George,
The labour we delight in physics pain. Now, fair befall you! he deserv'd his death; I'll make you quiet. What!--cheerly, my hearts. Holy King Henry, and thy fair son Edward, In fair Verona, where we lay our scene, So far from cheer and from your former state. Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens And from her fair and unpolluted flesh | By any other name would smell as sweet; |
Foes to my rest, and my sweet sleep's disturbers, Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! Of limping winter treads, even such delight And reverend looker-on of two fair queens.--