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...maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O, prepare it; My part of death no one so true Did share it. "Not a flower, not a flower sweet. On my black coffin let there bestrewn; Not a friend, not a friend greet Tkly poor corpse, vhcremy bones shall be throtrn ; d. thousand...

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...maid. My shroud of white stuck all with'yew, O prepare it, My part of death no one so true did share it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet, On my black...there be strown: Not a friend, not a friend greet Mypoor copse, where mybones shall be thrown. A thousand thousand sighs to save, lay me O where Sad...

...Did share it. IVot a flower, not ajiower sweet, On my black coffin let there be strown; Not a Jriend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown; A thousand thousand signs to save, Lay me, 0, where Sad truc lover ne'er jind my grave, To weep there. Duke. There's for...

...shroud of white, stuck all with yen-, 0, prepare it; My part of death no one so true Did share it. A'ot a flower, not a flower sweet, On my black coffin let there be strown; A'ot a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where mi1 bones shall be throw, A thousand thousand...

...maid. My shroud of white stuck all with yew, O, prepare it; My part of death no one so true Did share it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet, On my black...there be strown ; Not a friend, not a friend greet [thrown : My poor corpse, where my bones shall be A thousand, thousand sighs to save. Lay me, O where...

...it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet, On iriy black coffin let there be strown-r Not a friend, rot a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown. A thousand thousand >i,jlis to save, lay me O where Sad' true lover never find my grave, to.wecp there; . Viola did not...

...so true Did share it. Ло< о ßower, not a floner sweet, On my black coffin let there be itrown ; Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where...thousand sighs to save, Lay me, O, where Sad true lover ne'er ßnd my grave, To weep there. Duke. There's for thy pains. Clo. No pains, sir ; I take pleasure...

...maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O prepare it; My part of death no one so true Did share it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet, On my black coffin let there be strewn; Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown: A thousand...