O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art As glorious to this night, being o'er my head, As is a winged messenger of heaven Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him, When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds And...
The Plays and Poems of Shakespeare,: According to the Improved Text of ... - Page 204
by William Shakespeare - 1844
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