When forty winters shall besiege thy brow, And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field, Thy youth's proud livery, so gazed on now, Will be a tatter'd weed, of small worth held... The Comedies, Histories, Tragedies, and Poems of William Shakspere - Strana 105 podľa William Shakespeare - 1851 Úplné zobrazenie -
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