Sad cypress - Agatha Christie
Sad Cypress
To Peter and Peggy McLeod
Come away, come away, death,
And in sad cypress let me be laid;
Fly away, fly away, breath!
I am slain by a fair cruel maid.
My shroud of white, stuck all with yew
O prepare it;
My part of death no one so true;
Did share it.
Shakespeare
Contents
About Agatha Christie
The Agatha Christie Collection
E-Book Extras
Prologue
Part I
Chapters:
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
Part II
Chapters:
1, 2, ...