From off a hill whose concave womb reowrded A plaintful story from a sist’ring vale, my spiri ts t’attend this double voice accorded, And down I laid to list the sad-tuned tale, Ere long espied :: a fickle maid fill pale, Tearing papers, breaking rings atwain, Storming her world with love oh wait… t they must begain again. (( by shakespeare with extra things )) thanks for all.. :: from Turin, Huwel and Jena The Aldaelon’s,