Page:A Midsummer-Nights Dream (Rackham).djvu/195

Rh Come, tears, confound;

Out, sword, and wound

The pap of Pyramus;

Ay, that left pap,

Where heart doth hop:

Thus die I, thus, thus, thus.

Now am I dead,

Now am I fled;

My soul is in the sky.

Tongue, lose thy light;

Moon, take thy flight:

Now die, die, die, die, die.

Exit Moonshine