They hurried us aboard a bark,
Bore us some leagues to sea, where they prepared
A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigged,
Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats
Instinctively h Shakespeare, William
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As of: January 09th, 2009 06:27:23 AM
Author: Cynthia Rylant
Hang sorrow! care 'll kill a cat.
As he brews, so shall he drink.
It must be done like lightning.
There shall be no love lost.
Give me a look, give me a face,
That makes simplicity a grace;
Robes loosely flowing, hair Jonson, Ben