Elegant extracts in poetry, Volum 21816 |
Inni boken
Resultat 1-5 av 100
Side 594
... sleep as soft As captain shall : simply the thing I am Shall make me live . Who knows himself a braggart , Let him fear this ; for it will come to pass , That every braggart shall be found an ass . Rust , sword ! cool , blushes ! and ...
... sleep as soft As captain shall : simply the thing I am Shall make me live . Who knows himself a braggart , Let him fear this ; for it will come to pass , That every braggart shall be found an ass . Rust , sword ! cool , blushes ! and ...
Side 598
... sleeping Man , about to be destroyed by a Snake and a Lioness . Under an oak , whose boughs were moss'd with age , And high top bald with high antiquity , A wretched , ragged man , o'ergrown with hair , Lay sleeping on his back ; about ...
... sleeping Man , about to be destroyed by a Snake and a Lioness . Under an oak , whose boughs were moss'd with age , And high top bald with high antiquity , A wretched , ragged man , o'ergrown with hair , Lay sleeping on his back ; about ...
Side 603
... sleep ; Even like an o'ergrown lion in a cave , That goes not out to prey : now as fond fathers Having bound up the threat'ning twigs of birch , Only to stick it in their children's sight For terror , not for use ; in time the rod ...
... sleep ; Even like an o'ergrown lion in a cave , That goes not out to prey : now as fond fathers Having bound up the threat'ning twigs of birch , Only to stick it in their children's sight For terror , not for use ; in time the rod ...
Side 606
... sleep , And that thou oft provok'st : yet grossly fear'st Thy death , which is no more . Thou art not thyself ; For thou exist'st on many a thousand grains ; That issue out of dust . Happy thou art not ; For what thou hast not , still ...
... sleep , And that thou oft provok'st : yet grossly fear'st Thy death , which is no more . Thou art not thyself ; For thou exist'st on many a thousand grains ; That issue out of dust . Happy thou art not ; For what thou hast not , still ...
Side 607
... Sleep . As fast lock'd up in sleep , as guiltless labor When it lies starkly in the traveller's bones . Upright Governor supposed . Prov . It is a bitter deputy . Duke . Not so , not so ; his life is parallel'd Even with the stroke and ...
... Sleep . As fast lock'd up in sleep , as guiltless labor When it lies starkly in the traveller's bones . Upright Governor supposed . Prov . It is a bitter deputy . Duke . Not so , not so ; his life is parallel'd Even with the stroke and ...
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
Adam Bell art thou bear beauty behold blood bosom breast breath Britons Brutus busk Cæsar call'd Cato charms cheek Childe Waters cried dead dear death Derry dost doth dreadful e'en e'er Epigram ev'ry eyes fair fair lady fame fate father fear flow'rs fool GARRICK gentle give grace grief hand hath head hear heart Heaven honor Juba king Lady live look lord lov'd maid mind muse ne'er never night noble nymph o'er once passion peace pity play poison'd poor pow'r praise pride prince Prologue quoth Rome round sayd scene seem'd SHAKSPEARE sigh sing sleep smile soft Song sorrow soul speak spleen sweet sword Syphax tears tell thee thine thing thou art thou hast thought tongue true Twas twill vex'd virtue weep willow Wilm wind wretched yemen youth Zounds
Populære avsnitt
Side 790 - How sleep the Brave who sink to rest By all their country's wishes blest! When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung; By forms unseen their dirge is sung; There Honor comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay; And Freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there!
Side 745 - Had ye been there, for what could that have done? What could the Muse herself that Orpheus bore, The Muse herself for her enchanting son, Whom universal nature did lament, When by the rout that made the hideous roar, His gory visage down the stream was sent, Down the swift Hebrus to the Lesbian shore?
Side 640 - Neither a borrower nor a lender be ; For loan oft loses both itself and friend, And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. This above all : to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Side 631 - His legs bestrid the ocean: his rear'd arm Crested the world : his voice was propertied As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends ; But when he meant to quail and shake the orb, He was as rattling thunder.
Side 589 - The seasons' difference : as the icy fang And churlish chiding of the winter's wind, Which when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say, This is no flattery : these are counsellors That feelingly persuade me what I am.
Side 662 - tis true, this god did shake : His coward lips did from their colour fly ; And that same eye whose bend doth awe the world Did lose his lustre : I did hear him groan : Ay, and that tongue of his that bade the Romans Mark him, and write his speeches in their books, , Alas ! it cried, " Give me some drink, Titinius,
Side 664 - If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. You all do know this mantle : I remember The first time ever Caesar put it on; 'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent, That day he overcame the Nervii: — Look, in this place, ran Cassius...
Side 643 - The counterfeit presentment of two brothers. See what a grace was seated on this brow ; Hyperion's curls, the front of Jove himself, An eye like Mars, to threaten and command; A station like the herald Mercury New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill ; A combination and a form indeed, Where every god did seem to set his seal To give the world assurance of a man : This was your husband.
Side 745 - Built in th' eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark, That sunk so low that sacred head of thine. Next Camus, reverend sire, went footing slow, His mantle hairy, and his bonnet sedge, Inwrought with figures dim, and on the edge Like to that sanguine flower inscribed with woe. "Ah! who hath reft," quoth he, "my dearest pledge?
Side 661 - This England never did, (nor never shall,) Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, But when it first did help to wound itself. Now these her princes are come home again, Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them : Nought shall make us rue, If England to itself do rest but true.