Poem William Shakespeare

A Casket Song

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Tell me, where is fancy bred,
Or in the heart, or in the head?
How begot, how nourished? III, ii
Reply, reply.

It is engend’red in the eyes,
With gazing fed; and fancy dies
In the cradle where it lies.
Let us all ring fancy’s knell.
I’ll begin it–Ding, dong, bell. III, ii

All: Ding, dong, bell.

A Dream of Wrecks
" Sweet boy," she says, "this night I'll waste in sorrow"

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