Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves ; And ye that on the sands with printless foot Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him When he comes back ; you demi-puppets that By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make, Whereof the ewe not...
Historical and critical matter The tempest. Two gentlemen of Verona. Merry ... - Page 88
by William Shakespeare - 1811
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