Lords, I protest my soul is full of woe That blood should...

Lords, I protest my soul is full of woe That blood should sprinkle me to make me grow. Come, mourn with me for what I do lament, And put sullen black incontinent. I'll make a voyage to the Holy Land To wash this blood off from my guilty hand. March sadly after. Grace my mournings here In weeping after this untimely bier.

William Shakespeare Quote About Book, Blood, Hands: Lords I Protest My Soul...

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