| Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain http://www.gfqx.com/buy-zithromax-online/#clwtp Nature never did betray The heart that loved her. http://www.gfqx.com/how-to-look-years-younger/#dfytd I've lived to bury my desires, And see my dreams corrode with rust Now all that's left are fruitless fires That burn my empty heart to dust.
|