It was the lark, the herald of the morn, No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east: Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops; I must be gone and live, or stay... The Plays and Poems of William Shakspeare - Pągina 161per William Shakespeare - 1821Visualització completa
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James L. Calderwood - 1971 - 204 pągines
...yond pomegranate tree. Believe me, love, it was the nightingale. (3.5.1-5) And again: JULIET. Yond light is not daylight, I know it, I — It is some...this night a torchbearer And light thee on thy way to Mantua. (3.5.12-15) In line with her nominalistic "A rose by any other word" Juliet would rebaptize...