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Strana 446 - Content!' to that which grieves my heart, And wet my cheeks with artificial tears, And frame my face to all occasions.
Strana 186 - Will I upon thy party wear this rose. And here I prophesy, — this brawl to-day , Grown to this faction in the Temple garden, Shall send , between the red rose and the white , A thousand souls to death and deadly night.
Strana 331 - What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted ! Thrice is he arm'd that hath his quarrel just ; And he but naked, though lock'd up in steel, Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted.
Strana 34 - A' made a finer end and went away an it had been any christom child; a' parted even just between twelve and one, even at the turning o' the tide: for after I saw him fumble with the sheets and play with flowers and smile upon his fingers...
Strana 42 - Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall up with our English dead. In peace there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility: But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger...
Strana 18 - Where some, like magistrates, correct at home, Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad, Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings, Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds, Which pillage they with merry march bring home To the tent-royal of their emperor ; Who, busied in his majesty, surveys The singing masons building roofs of gold, The civil citizens kneading up the honey, The poor mechanic porters crowding in Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate, The sad-eyed justice, with his surly hum,...
Strana 7 - On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth So great an object: can this cockpit hold The vasty fields of France ? or may we cram Within this wooden O the very casques That did affright the air at Agincourt...
Strana 162 - Glory is like a circle in the water, Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself, Till, by broad spreading, it disperse to nought. With Henry's death the English circle ends; Dispersed are the glories it included.
Strana 183 - Let him that is a true-born gentleman And stands upon the honour of his birth, If he suppose that I have pleaded truth. From off this brier pluck a white rose with me. 30 Som. Let him that is no coward nor no flatterer, But dare maintain the party of the truth, Pluck a red rose from off this thorn with me.
Strana 151 - HUNG be the heavens with black, yield day to night ! Comets, importing change of times and states, Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky, And with them scourge the bad revolting stars, That have consented unto Henry's death ! King Henry the Fifth, too famous to live long ! England ne'er lost a king of so much worth.

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