Lines Pretended to Be from the Pen of The Immortal Shakspear!

Would ye be taught, ye feathered throng,
With love's sweet notes to grace your song,
To perce the heart with thrilling lay,
Listen to mine Ann Hathaway!
She hath a way to sing so clear,
Phoebus might wondering stop to hear,
To melt the sad, make blythe the gay,
& nature charm, Ann hath a way :
She hath a way
Ann Hathaway
To breath delight Ann hath a way !

When envy's breath & rancorous tooth,
Do soil & bite fair worth & truth,
& merit to distress betray; —
To sooth the heart, Ann hath a way : —
She hath a way to chace despair,
To heal all grief, to cure all care,
Turn foulest night, to fairest day; —
Thou know'st fond heart Ann hath a way ,
She hath a way
Ann Hathaway,
To make grief bliss Ann hath a way !

Talk not of gems, the orient list
The diamond, topaze, amethist,
The emerald mild, the ruby gay
Talk of my gem, Ann Hathaway

She hath a way with her bright eye,
Their various colours to defye —
The jewel she, & the foil they,
So sweet to look Ann hath a way
She hath a way
Ann Hathaway
To shame bright eyes Ann hath a way !
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