Enter Certain Nymphs
You sunburnt sicklemen, of August weary,- Shakespeare, The Tempest (4.1.134-38).
Come hither from the furrow and be merry:
Make holiday; your rye-straw hats put on
And these fresh nymphs encounter every one
In country footing.
You sunburnt sicklemen, of August weary,- Shakespeare, The Tempest (4.1.134-38).
Come hither from the furrow and be merry:
Make holiday; your rye-straw hats put on
And these fresh nymphs encounter every one
In country footing.
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