Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form; Then, have I reason to be fond of...
The Beauties of Shakspeare Regularly Selected from Each Play. With a General ... - Page 101
by William Shakespeare - 1827 - 345 pages
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