first line (public domain): When will you ever, Peace, wild wood dove, shy wings shut, Your round me roaming end, and under be my boughs? When, when, Peace, will you, Peace? I'll not play hypocrite To my own heart: I yield you do come sometimes; but That piecemeal peace is poor peace. What pure peace allows Alarms of war, the dauntings wars, the death of it?
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[0] => When will you ever, Peace, wild wood dove, shy wings shut, / Your round me roaming end, and under be my boughs? / When, when, Peace, will you, Peace? I'll not play hypocrite / To my own heart: I yield you do come sometimes; but / That piecemeal peace is poor peace. What pure peace allows / Alarms of war, the dauntings wars, the death of it?|p
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