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" 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 azur'd hare-bell, like thy veins; no, nor The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander, Out-sweeten'd... "
The Plays of William Shakspeare ... - Page 302
by William Shakespeare - 1785
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"Speak it in Welsh": Wales and the Welsh Language in Shakespeare

Megan S. Lloyd - 2007 - 209 pages
...sweeten thy sad grave: thou shalt not laek The flower that's like thy face, pale primrose, nor The azured harebell, like thy veins, no, nor The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander, Out-sweeten 'd not thy breath: the ruddock would. With charitable bill, O btll, sore-shaming...
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