It standeth so: a deed is do Whereof much harm shall grow; My destiny is for to die A shameful death, I trow; Or else to flee. The one must be. None other way I know, But to withdraw as an out-law, And take me to my bow. Wherefore, adieu, my own heart... A Book of Old English Ballads: With an Accompaniment of Decorative Drawings - Página 132 editado por - 1896 - 185 páginas Vista completa -
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