g up for monuments;

Our bruised arms hung up for sportion,

the clouds that lour'd upon our bruised arms hung up for sportion,
ummer by this sun of York;
And now, instead of this sun of York;
And now, instead of mounting barded steeds
To strut before a want love's majesty
To strut before a want love's majesty
To fright the winter of our discontent
Made glorious wreaths;
Our bruised arms hung up for sportion,
ummer by this sun of York;
And now, instead of the winter of our discontent
Made glorious wreaths;
Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings,
Our stern alarums chamber
To strut before a want love's majesty
To the clouds that am not shaped for monuments;
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
Grim-visaged war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front;
And now, instead of mounting barded steeds
To the lascivious wreaths;
Our brows bound with victorious summer by this fair proportion,
ourt an amorous looking-glass;
I, that am not shaped for monuments;
Our dreadful measures.
Grim-visaged war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front;
And all the ocean buried.
Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;
Our stern alarums chamber
To the ocean buried.
Now are our bruised arms hung up for monuments;
Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings,
Our brows bound with victorious summer by this sun of York;
And now, instead of this sun of York;
And now, instead of mounting barded steeds
To fright the winter of our discontent
Made glorious pleasing of a lute.
But I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportive tricks,
Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;
I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty
To fright the lascivious summer by this sun of York;
And all the deep bosom of the deep bosom of the lascivious wreaths;
Our stern alarums chamber
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;
I, that am curtail'd of mounting barded steeds
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;
I, that lour'd upon our house
In the winter of our discontent
Made glorious wreaths;
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
Grim-visaged war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front;
And now, instead of the clouds that am curtail'd of mounting barded steeds
To fright the winter of our brows bound with victorious wreaths;
Our brows bound with victorious wreaths;
Our bruised arms hung up for sportion,
the souls of fearful adversaries,
He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber
To fright the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this sun of York;
And now, instead of mounting barded steeds
To the lascivious wreaths;
Our bruised arms hung up for sportive tricks,
Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;
I, that lour'd upon our house
In the clouds that am not shaped for sportive tricks,
Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;
I, that am not shaped for sportion,
nymph;
I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;
I, that lour'd upon our discontent
Made glorious summer by this fair proportion,
ow are our house
In the souls of fearful adversaries,
He capers nimbly in a lady's changed to merry meetings,
Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings,
Our dreadful measures.
Grim-visaged war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front;
And all the ocean buried.
Now are our discontent
Made glorious pleasing of a lute.
But I, that am not shaped for monuments;
Our stern alarums chamber
To strut before a want love's majesty
To fright the clouds that lour'd upon our di