The Complete Works of William Shakespeare: Lucrece. Sonnets. A lover's complaint. The passionate pilgrim. Phoenix and turtle. IndexGinn & Heath, 1881 |
Vyhľadávanie v obsahu knihy
Výsledky 1 - 5 z 25.
Strana 8
... praise the clear unmatched red and white Which triumph'd in that sky of his delight , Where mortal stars , as bright as heaven's beauties , With pure aspects did him peculiar duties . For he the night before , in Tarquin's tent , Unlock ...
... praise the clear unmatched red and white Which triumph'd in that sky of his delight , Where mortal stars , as bright as heaven's beauties , With pure aspects did him peculiar duties . For he the night before , in Tarquin's tent , Unlock ...
Strana 11
... praise which Collatine doth owe Enchanted Tarquin answers with surmise , In silent wonder of still - gazing eyes . This earthly saint , adorèd by this devil , Little suspecteth the false worshipper ; 10 For unstain'd thoughts do seldom ...
... praise which Collatine doth owe Enchanted Tarquin answers with surmise , In silent wonder of still - gazing eyes . This earthly saint , adorèd by this devil , Little suspecteth the false worshipper ; 10 For unstain'd thoughts do seldom ...
Strana 12
... praises Collatine's high name , Made glorious by his manly chivalry With bruised arms and wreaths of victory : Her joy with heaved - up hand she doth express , And , wordless , so greets Heaven for his success . 1 " Birds never limed ...
... praises Collatine's high name , Made glorious by his manly chivalry With bruised arms and wreaths of victory : Her joy with heaved - up hand she doth express , And , wordless , so greets Heaven for his success . 1 " Birds never limed ...
Strana 88
... praise . How much more praise deserved thy beauty's use , If thou couldst answer , This fair child of mine Shall sum my count , and make my old excuse , Proving his beauty by succession thine ! This were to be new made when thou art old ...
... praise . How much more praise deserved thy beauty's use , If thou couldst answer , This fair child of mine Shall sum my count , and make my old excuse , Proving his beauty by succession thine ! This were to be new made when thou art old ...
Strana 99
... praise that purpose not to sell . 22 . My glass shall not persuade me I am old , So long as youth and thou are of one date ; But when in thee time's furrows I behold , Then look I death my days should expirate . For all that beauty that ...
... praise that purpose not to sell . 22 . My glass shall not persuade me I am old , So long as youth and thou are of one date ; But when in thee time's furrows I behold , Then look I death my days should expirate . For all that beauty that ...
Časté výrazy a frázy
Adonis bear beauty's behold birds blood blushing breast breath Capell's correction cheeks Collatine conceit dead dear death deeds delight desire disgrace doth England's Helicon eternity face fair fair lords falchion false fault fear feasts of love flower foul gainst gentle give grace grief hand hast hate hath heart Heaven honour Julius Cæsar king live look love's LOVER'S COMPLAINT Lucrece lust Malone mayst meaning mind mistress moan Muse night o'er old copies original pale Passionate Pilgrim passions pity Poet Poet's poison'd poor praise Priam pride quoth rhyme seem'd sense Sextus Tarquinius Shakespeare shalt shame sight sing Sonnets sorrow soul strong swear Tarquin tears Tereu thee thine eye thing thou art thou dost thought thy sweet thyself Time's tongue true truth Venus and Adonis verse watergall weep WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE words worth wounds youth
Populárne pasáže
Strana 167 - CXLVI. Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth, Fool'd by those rebel powers that thee array, Why dost thou pine within, and suffer dearth, Painting thy outward walls so costly gay ? Why so large cost, having so short a lease, Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend ? Shall worms, inheritors of this excess, Eat up thy charge ? Is this thy body's end ? Then, soul, live thou upon thy servant's loss, And let that pine to aggravate thy store ; Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross ; Within be fed,...
Strana 117 - But you like none, none you, for constant heart. LIV O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem By that sweet ornament which truth doth give! The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem For that sweet odour which doth in it live. The canker-blooms have full as deep a dye As the perfumed tincture of the roses...
Strana 104 - When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's •waste...
Strana 147 - O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide, The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds, That did not better for my life provide Than public means which public manners breeds. Thence comes it that my name receives a brand, And almost thence my nature is subdued To what it works in, like the dyer's hand.
Strana 123 - SINCE brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea, But sad mortality o'er-sways their power, How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
Strana 105 - Had my friend's Muse grown with this growing age, A dearer birth than this his love had brought, To march in ranks of better equipage: But since he died, and poets better prove, Theirs for their style I'll read, his for his love.
Strana 134 - Was it the proud full sail of his great verse, Bound for the prize of all too precious you, That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse, Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew? Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write, Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead? No, neither he, nor his compeers by night Giving him aid, my verse astonished. He, nor that affable familiar ghost Which nightly gulls him with intelligence, As victors of my silence cannot boast; I was not sick of any fear from...
Strana 163 - When my love swears that she is made of truth I do believe her, though I know she lies, That she might think me some untutor'd youth, Unlearned in the world's false subtleties.
Strana 88 - Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry ? Or who is he so fond, will be the tomb Of his self-love, to stop posterity ? Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in thee Calls back the lovely April of her prime : So thou through windows of thine age shalt see, Despite of wrinkles, this thy golden time.
Strana 43 - Time's glory is to calm contending kings, To unmask falsehood and bring truth to light, To stamp the seal of time in aged things, To wake the morn and sentinel the night, To wrong the wronger till he render right, To ruinate proud buildings with thy hours, And smear with dust their glittering golden towers...