Dirge of the Three Queens
«William Shakespeare»
URNS and odours bring
away!
Vapours, sighs,
darken the day!
Our dole more deadly looks than dying;
Balms and gums and
heavy cheers,
Sacred vials fill'd
with tears,
And clamours through the wild air flying!
Come, all sad and
solemn shows,
That are quick-eyed
Pleasure's foes!
We convent naught
else but woes.
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