The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, Burn'd on the water ; the poop was beaten gold, Purple the sails, and so perfumed that The winds were love-sick with them, the oars were silver, Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made The water... The Works of William Shakespeare: In Nine Volumes - Pàgina 29 per William Shakespeare - 1811 Visualització completa -
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