With fairest flowers, Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele, I'll sweeten thy sad grave : thou shalt not lack The flower that's like thy face, pale primrose ; nor The azured hare-bell, like thy veins ; no, nor The leaf of eglantine, whom not to... The wisdom and genius of Shakspeare: comprising moral philosophy ... - Página 246 por William Shakespeare - 1838 Visualização integral -
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