Elegant extracts in poetry, Zväzok 21816 |
Vyhľadávanie v obsahu knihy
Výsledky 1 - 5 z 100.
Strana 607
... fate , it should proceed - Thou shalt be made immortal ! Oh , fie , fie , fie ! Thy sin's not accidental , but a trade ; Mercy to thee would prove itself a bawd ; ' Twere best thou diest quickly ! Virtue and Goodness . " Virtue is bold ...
... fate , it should proceed - Thou shalt be made immortal ! Oh , fie , fie , fie ! Thy sin's not accidental , but a trade ; Mercy to thee would prove itself a bawd ; ' Twere best thou diest quickly ! Virtue and Goodness . " Virtue is bold ...
Strana 631
... fate , against thy better disposition , Hath made thy person for the thrower out Of my poor babe , according to thine oath ; Places remote enough are in Bohemia , There weep , and leave it crying : and , for the babe Is counted lost for ...
... fate , against thy better disposition , Hath made thy person for the thrower out Of my poor babe , according to thine oath ; Places remote enough are in Bohemia , There weep , and leave it crying : and , for the babe Is counted lost for ...
Strana 661
... fate of place , and the rough brake That virtue must go through . We must not Our necessary actions , in the fear [ stint To cope which ever , malicious censurers ; As rav'nous fishes , do a vessel follow That is new - trimm'd ; but ...
... fate of place , and the rough brake That virtue must go through . We must not Our necessary actions , in the fear [ stint To cope which ever , malicious censurers ; As rav'nous fishes , do a vessel follow That is new - trimm'd ; but ...
Strana 681
... fate . A Lover's Exclamation . Excellent wretch ! perdition catch my soul , But I do love thee ! and when I love thee not , Chaos is come again . Othello's first Suspicion . Think , my lord ! by Heaven he echoes me , As if there were ...
... fate . A Lover's Exclamation . Excellent wretch ! perdition catch my soul , But I do love thee ! and when I love thee not , Chaos is come again . Othello's first Suspicion . Think , my lord ! by Heaven he echoes me , As if there were ...
Strana 682
... fate would have me wiv'd , To give it her . I did so ; and take heed of't , Make it a darling , like your precious eye ; To lose ' t or give ' t away , where such perdition , As nothing else could match . -There's magic in the web of it ...
... fate would have me wiv'd , To give it her . I did so ; and take heed of't , Make it a darling , like your precious eye ; To lose ' t or give ' t away , where such perdition , As nothing else could match . -There's magic in the web of it ...
Časté výrazy a frázy
Adam Bell art thou bear beauty behold blood bosom breast breath Britons Brutus busk Cæsar call'd Cato charms cheek Childe Waters cried dead dear death Derry dost doth dreadful e'en e'er Epigram ev'ry eyes fair fair lady fame fate father fear flow'rs fool GARRICK gentle give grace grief hand hath head hear heart Heaven honor Juba king Lady live look lord lov'd maid mind muse ne'er never night noble nymph o'er once passion peace pity play poison'd poor pow'r praise pride prince Prologue quoth Rome round sayd scene seem'd SHAKSPEARE sigh sing sleep smile soft Song sorrow soul speak spleen sweet sword Syphax tears tell thee thine thing thou art thou hast thought tongue true Twas twill vex'd virtue weep willow Wilm wind wretched yemen youth Zounds
Populárne pasáže
Strana 790 - How sleep the Brave who sink to rest By all their country's wishes blest! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung; By forms unseen their dirge is sung; There Honor comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay; And Freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there!
Strana 745 - Had ye been there, for what could that have done? What could the Muse herself that Orpheus bore, The Muse herself for her enchanting son, Whom universal nature did lament, When by the rout that made the hideous roar, His gory visage down the stream was sent, Down the swift Hebrus to the Lesbian shore?
Strana 640 - Neither a borrower nor a lender be ; For loan oft loses both itself and friend, And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. This above all : to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Strana 631 - His legs bestrid the ocean: his rear'd arm Crested the world : his voice was propertied As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends ; But when he meant to quail and shake the orb, He was as rattling thunder.
Strana 589 - The seasons' difference : as the icy fang And churlish chiding of the winter's wind, Which when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say, This is no flattery : these are counsellors That feelingly persuade me what I am.
Strana 662 - tis true, this god did shake : His coward lips did from their colour fly ; And that same eye whose bend doth awe the world Did lose his lustre : I did hear him groan : Ay, and that tongue of his that bade the Romans Mark him, and write his speeches in their books, , Alas ! it cried, " Give me some drink, Titinius,
Strana 664 - If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. You all do know this mantle : I remember The first time ever Caesar put it on; 'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent, That day he overcame the Nervii: — Look, in this place, ran Cassius...
Strana 643 - The counterfeit presentment of two brothers. See what a grace was seated on this brow ; Hyperion's curls, the front of Jove himself, An eye like Mars, to threaten and command; A station like the herald Mercury New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill ; A combination and a form indeed, Where every god did seem to set his seal To give the world assurance of a man : This was your husband.
Strana 745 - Built in th' eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark, That sunk so low that sacred head of thine. Next Camus, reverend sire, went footing slow, His mantle hairy, and his bonnet sedge, Inwrought with figures dim, and on the edge Like to that sanguine flower inscribed with woe. "Ah! who hath reft," quoth he, "my dearest pledge?
Strana 661 - This England never did, (nor never shall,) Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, But when it first did help to wound itself. Now these her princes are come home again, Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them : Nought shall make us rue, If England to itself do rest but true.