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Joseph and his brethren, a scriptural drama, by H.L. Howard. By C. Wells
Charles Jeremiah Wells
Uten tilgangsbegrensning - 1876
arms bear behold BENJAMIN blood bosom breast breath brethren bright brother brow Canaan Canaanites cast clouds corn danger dead doth Dothan dream E'en e'er earth Egypt Egyptian Enter evil Exeunt Exit fair famine father fear flowers gentle goodly grave grief grieve hand HARVESTMAN hath head heart heaven honesty honour ISHMAELITE Israel ISSACHAR JACOB JOSEPH JUDAH king land LEVI live look lord Madam MAGICIAN man's mercy Midianites mind myrrh NAPHTALI ne'er neath never o'er OFFICER passion patience peace Pharaoh PHRAXANOR pity POTIPHAR pr'ythee pray precious REUBEN Scene.—A scorn shame shew sight SIMEON sire sith slave sleep smile sorrow speak spirit spleen STEWARD stubborn sure sweet tears tell tent thee thine thing thou thought thy dream tongue tribe trust truth twixt unto vale weep Wherefore wind wisdom wise wrath young youth ZEBULUN
Side 243 - And behold the Lord stood above it and said, I am the Lord God of Abraham thy father, and the God of Isaac ; the land whereon thou liest, to thee will I give it, and to thy seed.
Side 243 - Isaac; the land whereon thou liest, to thee will I give it, and to thy seed. And thy seed shall be as the dust of the earth, and thou shall spread abroad to the west, and to the east, and to the north, and to the south; and in thee and in thy seed shall all the families of the earth be blessed.
Side i - Violent or shameful death their due reward. But if there be in glory aught of good, It may by means far different be attained Without ambition, war, or violence ; By deeds of peace, by wisdom eminent, By patience, temperance : I mention still Him whom thy wrongs with saintly patience borne Made famous in a land and times obscure.
Side 128 - Tis fill'd with precious spikenard, queen of scents. [She spills it on his head. JOSEPH Madam, what must I say ? My state is low, Yet you do treat me as you might my lord When he besought your hand. PHRAXANOR Must I get up, And cast myself in thy sustaining arms, To sink thee to a seat ? — Come, sit thou here. Now I will neighbour thee and tell thee why I cast that ointment on thee.
Side 126 - Therefore, since Truth requires that I should lay Me prostrate at her foot and worship her, Rather than wield her sceptre and her power, I shall be bold to follow mine own way, And use the world as I find wit and means ; And as I know of nothing but old age To bound my will, so nothing will I fear. — But I waste words: you do not understand.
Side 133 - And the ringed vinous tree that yields red wine, Together with all intertwining flowers, Are plants most fit to ramble o'er each other, And form the bower of all-precious love ; Matting the sun with fragrant bloom and leaves From jealous interception of love's gaze.
Side 130 - Cold ! cold ! still cold ! — I eye you like to one That dieth in my arms : beware you chill Me too ! You do a wrong, and herein court Much danger. I would risk the world for you ; But, blow me cold with your sharp frosty breath, And these same arms that gird you round about May turn to bitter chains. We are most dear In our affections ; in vengeance most resolved.
Side 124 - Eternity itself, but fills the scale In truth's untrembling hand. His votaries Belong to him entire, not he to them ; The immolation must be all complete, And woman still makes reservation. Our feeling doth resemble the king's coin, No counterfeit, for it doth bear our weight, The perfect image, absolute, enthron'd : Now, the king's coin belongs to many men, And only by allowance is call'd his : Just so our feeling stands with circumstance. Whene'er the king doth give a golden mark, The addition...
Side 136 - That honours lords above a lady's love. Thou hast no lord but me, — I am thy lord : And thou shalt find it, too— fool that I was To stoop my stateliness to such a calf Because he bore about a panther's hide. That is not blood which fainteth in thy veins, But only infant milk. Thou minion ! Bought up for drudgery with idle gold, How dar'st thou look or wink thy traitorous eye, Much less to think, when I command thy will ? Oh, impudence ! to scorn a noble dame ! Were't not that royalty has kiss'd...