Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form; Then, have I reason to be fond of... The Works of Shakespeare in Twelve Volumes: Collated with the Oldest Copies ... - الصفحة 287 بواسطة William Shakespeare - 1772 عرض كامل -
|