Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee,
Sing willow, willow, willow:
The fresh streams ran by her, and murmur'd her
moans;
Her salt tears fell from her, and soften'd the stones;~
Sing willow, willow, willow:
Sing all a green willow must be my garland."
~ Shakespeare's Othello, 1603 (?) [41].
Reminder: The Neat L'l Bookshop Third Thursday, 19 SEPT. 1:00 p.m. Neil Paul reading and discussion of Othello.
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