jueves, abril 27, 2006

Shakespeare Cats

Susan Herbert´s cats (III)

There is a willow grows aslant the


That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy


There with fantastic garlands did she


Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies and

long purples

That liberal shepherds give a grosser


But our cold maids do dead men´s

fingers call them.



Come, sit thee down upon this

flow´ry bed,

While I thy amiable cheeks do coy,

And stick musk-roses in thy sleek

smooth head,

And kiss thy fair large ears, my

gentle joy.

(A Midsummer Night´s Dream)


By the Lord, a buck basket! Ramm´d

me in with foul shirts and smocks,

socks, foul stockings!

(The Merry Wives of Windsor)


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