. In the forest of Arden. ,M^ ?m. VI Here feel we but the penalty of Adam,The season^s difference, as the icy fangAnd churlish chiding of the winter wind,Which, when it bites and blows upon my body,Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say,This is no flattery: these are counsellorsThat feelingly persuade me what I am

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Keywords: ., bookauthormabieham, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookyear1903