Upon the sightless couriers of the air, Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, That tears shall drown the wind. I have no spur To prick the sides of my intent, but only Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself And falls on the other. The Plays of William Shakespeare: Accurately Printed from the Text of the ... - Page 219 by William Shakespeare - 1803 Full view -
|