William Shakespeare

Now we sit close about this taper here
And call in question our necessities.

Now we sit close about this taper here
And call in question our necessities.

Lady, you are the cruell'st she alive
If you will these graces to the grave,
And leave read more

Lady, you are the cruell'st she alive
If you will these graces to the grave,
And leave the world no copy.

O that I were a mockery king of snow,
Standing before the sun of Bolingbroke
To melt read more

O that I were a mockery king of snow,
Standing before the sun of Bolingbroke
To melt myself away in water drops!

Stained
With grief, that's beauty's canter.

Stained
With grief, that's beauty's canter.

Did ever raven sing so like a lark
That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise?

Did ever raven sing so like a lark
That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise?