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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Dear maid, kind sister, sweet Ophelia!-- In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond; Some say the lark makes sweet division; Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy, Unfix his earth-bound root? Sweet bodements, good! For beauty, starv'd with her severity, The king, that calls your beauteous daughter wife, Tempering extremities with extreme sweet. Which, as they kiss, consume: the sweetest honey See where she comes from shrift with merry look. The fair Ophelia!--Nymph, in thy orisons See where she comes from shrift with merry look. Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast; Together with that fair and warlike form Be cheerful, Richmond; for the wronged souls If good, thou sham'st the music of sweet news Than twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet, - My tongue could never learn sweet smoothing word;
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, But 'twas thy beauty that provoked me. Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting; May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet. A mother only mock'd with two fair babes; O, your only jig-maker! What should a man do but be merry?