|
Heark! Oh heark! you guilty trees,
In whose gloomy galleries Was the cruell'st murder done, That e're yet eclipst the sunne. Be then henceforth in your twigges Blasted, e're you sprout to sprigges; Feele no season of the yeere, But what shaves off all your haire, Nor carve any from your wombes Ought but coffins and their tombes. Unsatisfied? Search for more:Other Cool Sites:Hot Arts & Stage NewsLyrics Catalogue Sound Tracks Guide Guide to Serials and Shows English Subtitles For DivX Movies Hundreds of Cooking Recipes Over 5000 Cocktails Recipes Cool Online Encyclopedia Cellulars Descriptions and Reviews Algorithms Dictionary Funny Jokes and Anecdotes. Usenet Newsgroups Reader |