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" Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypress let me be laid ; Fly away, fly away, breath ; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O, prepare it ! My part of death, no one so true Did share it. Not a flower, not a flower... "
The Plays of William Shakespeare: Accurately Printed from the Text of the ... - Seite 37
von William Shakespeare - 1805
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Gender in Modernism: New Geographies, Complex Intersections

Bonnie Kime Scott - 2007 - 872 Seiten
...place — Come away, come away, Death, And in sad cypress let me be laid; Fly away, fly away, breath; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white...be strown; Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corse, where my bones shall be thrown. A thousand thousand sighs to save, Lay me, O! where Sad true...
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Poor Women in Shakespeare

Fiona McNeill - 2007 - 255 Seiten
...song, Orsino imagines himself "slain by a fair cruel maid" and giving instructions for his own burial: Not a flower, not a flower sweet, On my black coffin...greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown (59—63). Depicting a simple funeral in obscurity, with the bones discarded, this song quickly turns...
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