The Comedy of Errors: In Five Acts

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S. Low, 1819 - 86 pages

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Page 53 - TAKE , O take those lips away That so sweetly were forsworn, And those eyes, the break of day, Lights that do mislead the morn : But my kisses bring again, Bring again Seals of love, but sealed in vain, Sealed in vain!
Page 15 - Blow, blow, thou winter wind, Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude ; Thy tooth is not so keen, Because thou art not seen, Although thy breath be rude.
Page 6 - It was a lover and his lass, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, That o'er the green corn-field did pass In the spring time, the only pretty ring time, When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding : Sweet lovers love the spring.
Page 45 - Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow And coughing drowns the parson's saw And birds sit brooding in the snow And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit; Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
Page 6 - This carol they began that hour, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, How that a life was but a flower In spring time, &C. And therefore take the present time, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino ; For love is crowned with the prime In spring time, &c.
Page 55 - Every thing did banish moan, Save the nightingale alone : She, poor bird, as all forlorn, Lean'd her breast up-till a thorn, And there sung the dolefull'st ditty, That to hear it was great pity :
Page 18 - The poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree, Sing all a green willow ; Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee, Sing willow, willow, willow...
Page 28 - Under the greenwood tree Who loves to lie with me, And tune his merry note Unto the sweet bird's throat — Come hither, come hither, come hither! Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather. Who doth ambition shun And loves to live i' the sun, Seeking the food he eats And pleased with what he gets — Come hither, come hither, come hither!
Page 36 - The shepherd swains shall dance and sing For thy delight each May morning: If these delights thy mind may move, Then live with me and be my love.
Page 70 - Lo, here the gentle lark, weary of rest, From his moist cabinet mounts up on high, And wakes the morning, from whose silver breast The sun ariseth in his majesty; Who doth the world so gloriously behold, That cedar-tops and hills seem burnish'd gold.

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