The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare...: Embracing a Life of the Poet, and Notes, Original and Selected..., Volum 4

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Phillips, Sampson, 1850
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Side 190 - This story shall the good man teach his son; And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by, From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remembered : We few, we happy few, we band of brothers ; For he, to-day, that sheds his blood with me, Shall be my brother ; be he ne'er so vile, This day shall gentle his condition : And gentlemen in England, now abed, Shall think themselves accursed, they were not here: And hold their manhoods cheap, while any speaks, That fought with us upon Saint...
Side 117 - O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend The brightest heaven of invention, A kingdom for a stage, princes to "act, And monarchs to behold the swelling scene ! Then should the warlike Harry, like himself, Assume the port of Mars; and at his heels, Leash'd in like hounds, should famine, sword and fire Crouch for employment.
Side 152 - 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 ; Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood...
Side 117 - Whose high, upreared and abutting fronts The perilous narrow ocean parts asunder. Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts: Into a thousand parts divide one man And make imaginary puissance. Think , when we talk of horses, that you see them Printing their proud hoofs i...
Side 54 - There is a history in all men's lives, Figuring the nature of the times deceased ; The which observed, a man may prophesy, With a near aim, of the main chance of things As yet not come to life ; which in their seeds, And weak beginnings, lie intreasured. Such things become the hatch and brood of time...
Side 153 - And you, good yeomen Whose limbs were made in England, show us here The mettle of your pasture ; let us swear That you are worth your breeding — which I doubt not — For there is none of you so mean and base, That hath not noble lustre in your eyes. I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. The game's afoot; Follow your spirit, and upon this charge Cry "God for Harry, England, and Saint George!
Side 52 - O Sleep, O gentle Sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down. And steep my senses in forgetfulness...
Side 470 - To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, Thereby to see the minutes how they run : How many make the hour full complete, How many hours bring about the day, How many days will finish up the year, How many years a mortal man may live. When this is known, then to divide the times : So many hours must I tend my flock ; So many hours must I take my rest ; So many hours must I contemplate ; So many hours must I sport myself; So many days my ewes have been with young ; So many weeks ere the poor fools...
Side 52 - With deaf'ning clamours in the slippery clouds, That, with the hurly, death itself awakes ? Canst thou, O partial sleep! give thy repose To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude; And, in the calmest and most stillest night, With all appliances and means to boot, Deny it to a king ? Then, happy low, lie down ! Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.
Side 190 - And say — to-morrow is Saint Crispian : Then will he strip his sleeve, and show his scars, And say, these wounds I had on Crispin's day. Old men forget ; yet all shall be forgot, But he'll remember, with advantages, What feats he did that day :• Then shall our names, Familiar in...

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