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 Comedies, Histories, Tragedies, and Poems of William Shakspere - Página 47 por William Shakespeare - 1851 Vista completa -
|