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Side 370 - I could weep My spirit from mine eyes ! There is my dagger, And here my naked breast ; within, a heart Dearer than Plutus' mine, richer than gold ; If that thou be'st a Roman, take it forth ; I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart ; Strike, as thou didst at Caesar ; for I know, When thou didst hate him worst, thou lovedst him better Than ever thou lovedst Cassius.
Side 468 - Await alike the inevitable hour ; The paths of glory lead but to the grave. Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault, ' If memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.
Side 457 - And after April, when May follows, And the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows? Hark, where my blossomed pear-tree in the hedge Leans to the field and scatters on the clover Blossoms and dewdrops — at the bent spray's edge- — That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over, Lest you should think he never could recapture The first fine careless rapture!
Side 477 - Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind; Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep, Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers...
Side 367 - What, shall one of us, That struck the foremost man of all this world But for supporting robbers, shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes, And sell the mighty space of our large honours For so much trash as may be grasped thus? I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman.
Side 281 - A little neglect may breed great mischief; for want of a nail the shoe was lost ; for want of a shoe the horse was lost ; and for want of a horse the rider was lost,' being overtaken and slain by the enemy ; all for want of a little care about a horse-shoe nail.
Side 240 - Ah why Should we, in the world's riper years, neglect God's ancient sanctuaries, and adore Only among the crowd, and under roofs That our frail hands have raised? Let me, at least, Here, in the shadow of this aged wood, Offer one hymn — thrice happy, if it find Acceptance in His ear.
Side 369 - By Heaven, I had rather coin my heart, And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash By any indirection : I did send To you for gold to pay my legions, Which you denied me : was that done like Cassius...
Side 420 - Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him ; But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him ! But half of our heavy task was done When the clock struck the hour for retiring, And we heard the distant and random gun That the foe was sullenly firing.