Like wonder-wounded hearers

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HAMLET: A king of shreds and patches —
[Enter GHOST in his nightgown]
Save me and hover o’er me with your wings,
You heavenly guards! [To GHOST] What would you, gracious figure?

GERTRUDE: Alas, he’s mad.

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What is he whose grief
Bears such an emphasis, whose phrase of sorrow
Conjures the wand’ring stars and makes them stand
Like wonder-wounded hearers? This is I,
Hamlet the Dane.

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If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart,
Absent thee from felicity a while,
And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain
To tell my story.

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Now cracks a noble heart. Good night, sweet prince,
And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.

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