Allgemein (9)
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And will he not come again. And will he not come again? No, no he is dead, Go to thy cold bed, he never will come again. His beard was an white as snow. All flaxen was his poll; He is gone, he is gone, And we cast away moan, God a mercy on his soul. (1596, Shakespeares "Hamlet", lied der Ophelia)