...; Fly away, fly away, breath ; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O prepare it ; My part of death no one so true...thrown : A thousand thousand sighs to save, Lay me, O, where Sad true lover never flnd my grave. To weep there. Duke. There's for thy pains. c free —...

...all with yew, O prepare it ; My part of death no one so true Did share it. Not a flower, not afiower sweet, On my black coffin let there be strown ; Not...thousand sighs to save, Lay me, 0, where Sad true lover never find my grave. To weep there. Duke. There's for thy pains. c free — ] Merry, gay. * My MOl/i.]...

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...; Fly away, rty away, breath j I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all witb yew, O prepare it ; My part of death, no one so true...it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet, On my black coflin let there be strown. Here Mr. Ellis reminds the reader, that in whatever country Shakspeare...

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...laid ; Fly away, fly away, breath, I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O prepare it ! My part of death no one so true...thrown. A thousand, thousand sighs to save, Lay me, O ! where Sad true lover ne'er find my grave, To weep there ! SONG. [From " The Two Gentlemen of Verona."]...

...slaintty ttjiiir cruel maid. My ihroud of while, stuck all with yew, 0, prepare it ; My part of dent h tudying at Klieims ; us cunning in Greek, Latin, and...in music and mathematics: his name in Cambio; pray, (thrown; Л/у poor corpse, where mu bones s/tali be A thousand thousand siijhs to save, Lay me, O,...

...; Fly away, fly away, breath ; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O prepare it ; My part of death no one so true...it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet, On my black coifin let there be strewn ; Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall...

...all with yew, 0, prepare it ; My part of death no one so true Did share it. Not a flower, not aflmver sweet, On my black coffin let there be strown ; Not...thrown : A thousand thousand sighs to save, Lay me, O, where Sad true-love never find my grave, To weep there. Duke. There's for thy pains. Clo. No pains,...