God! methinks it were a happy life, To be no better than a homely swain; To sit upon a hill, as I do now, To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, Thereby to see the minutes how they run, How many make the hour full complete; How many hours bring...
The Plays and Poems of William Shakspeare: With the Corrections and ... - Сторінка 432
автори: William Shakespeare - 1821
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