PoetryVicesimus Knox S. Walker, 1825 |
Vyhľadávanie v obsahu knihy
Výsledky 1 - 3 z 86.
Strana 2
... honor but of danger wins a scar , As oft it loses all . I will be gone : My being here it is , that holds thee hence . Shall I stay here to do it ? No , no , although The air of Paradise did fan the house , And angels offic'd all I will ...
... honor but of danger wins a scar , As oft it loses all . I will be gone : My being here it is , that holds thee hence . Shall I stay here to do it ? No , no , although The air of Paradise did fan the house , And angels offic'd all I will ...
Strana 16
... Honor ought to be conferred on Merit only . Why then to thee , thou silver treasure- house ; Tell me once more what title thou dost bear : " Who chooseth me , shall get as much as he deserves . " And well said too ; for who shall go ...
... Honor ought to be conferred on Merit only . Why then to thee , thou silver treasure- house ; Tell me once more what title thou dost bear : " Who chooseth me , shall get as much as he deserves . " And well said too ; for who shall go ...
Strana 63
... honor , And by those claim their greatness , not by blood . [ when Nor shall this peace sleep with her ; but , as The bird of wonder dies , the maiden phoenix , Her ashes new create another heir , As great in admiration as herself ; Who ...
... honor , And by those claim their greatness , not by blood . [ when Nor shall this peace sleep with her ; but , as The bird of wonder dies , the maiden phoenix , Her ashes new create another heir , As great in admiration as herself ; Who ...
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Ajax arms art thou bear beauty behold blood breast breath bright Brutus Cæsar call'd Cassius cheek Comus Cymbeline dead dear death Decius didst dost doth dread dream earth ev'ry eyes fair father fear fire flow'rs gentle give gods gold grace grief Hadad hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hell honor hour Iago king Lady light live look lord lov'd lyre Macb Macbeth Macd Marcian mind moon Muse nature ne'er never night noble nymph o'er Othello Pandarus peace pity poor pow'r pride prince Rome round seem'd SHAKSPEARE sight sleep smile soft Sonnet sorrow soul speak spide spirit stamp'd sweet sword tears tell thee thine things thou art thou hast thought thyself tongue twas Tybalt unto Vent vex'd virtue voice weep wind wretched youth