It was the lark, the herald of the morn, No nightingale ; look, love, what envious streaks Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east. Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops; I must be gone and live, or...
Select Plays of William Shakespeare: In Six Volumes. With the Corrections ... - Strana 326
podµa William Shakespeare, Samuel Johnson, George Steevens - 1820
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