O here,
Will I set up my everlasting rest
and shake the yoke of inauspicious stars from this world wearied flesh.
Eyes, look your last
Arms, take your last embrace
And, lips, O you the doors of breath
seal with a righteous kiss
A dateless bargain to engrossing death!
- William Shakespeare-
- Breda
- JoinedJuly 5, 2015
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