Golden Leaves from the British and American Dramatic PoetsBruce and Huntington, 1865 - 562 من الصفحات |
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الصفحة 3
... tell , While slumb'ring on his careful bed he rests , His heart stabbed in with knife is reft of life . Gorb . O Eubulus , oh draw this sword of ours , And pierce this heart with speed . O hateful light , ( ) loathsome life , O sweet ...
... tell , While slumb'ring on his careful bed he rests , His heart stabbed in with knife is reft of life . Gorb . O Eubulus , oh draw this sword of ours , And pierce this heart with speed . O hateful light , ( ) loathsome life , O sweet ...
الصفحة 7
... tell me I am mad : thou liest , I am not mad : I know thee to be Pedro , and he Jaques . I'll prove it to thee ; and were I mad , how could I ? Where was she the same night , when my Horatio was mur- dered ? She should have shone ...
... tell me I am mad : thou liest , I am not mad : I know thee to be Pedro , and he Jaques . I'll prove it to thee ; and were I mad , how could I ? Where was she the same night , when my Horatio was mur- dered ? She should have shone ...
الصفحة 9
... tell thee , God hath engrossed all justice in His hands , And there is none but what comes from Him . Pain . O then I see that God must right me for my murdered son . Hier . How , was thy son murdered ? Pain . Ay , sir ; no man did hold ...
... tell thee , God hath engrossed all justice in His hands , And there is none but what comes from Him . Pain . O then I see that God must right me for my murdered son . Hier . How , was thy son murdered ? Pain . Ay , sir ; no man did hold ...
الصفحة 15
... tell me , must I now resign my crown , To make usurping Mortimer a king ? Bish . Your grace mistakes ; it is for England's good , And princely Edward's right , we crave the crown . Edw . No , ' tis for Mortimer , not Edward's head ; For ...
... tell me , must I now resign my crown , To make usurping Mortimer a king ? Bish . Your grace mistakes ; it is for England's good , And princely Edward's right , we crave the crown . Edw . No , ' tis for Mortimer , not Edward's head ; For ...
الصفحة 18
... Tell Isabel the queen , I looked not thus , When for her sake I ran at tilt in France , And there unhorsed the Duke of Cleremont . Light . Oh , speak no more , my lord ! —this breaks my heart . Lie on this bed , and rest yourself awhile ...
... Tell Isabel the queen , I looked not thus , When for her sake I ran at tilt in France , And there unhorsed the Duke of Cleremont . Light . Oh , speak no more , my lord ! —this breaks my heart . Lie on this bed , and rest yourself awhile ...
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طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
GOLDEN LEAVES FROM THE BRITISH <span dir=ltr>John William Stanhope 1797-1871 Hows</span> لا تتوفر معاينة - 2016 |
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
Æneids AMBLA arms art thou bear behold Bian BIANCA Blan Blanche blessed blood breath brother Brutus Cæsar Cato Cham child Collatia crown curse dare daughter dead dear death dost thou doth dream Duke Duke of Milan earth Enter Evadne Exeunt Exit eyes farewell fate father fear fortune Gideon Giulio give gods grief hand hath hear heart Heaven Hecate honour hour King lady Lictors live look lord Lysimachus madam Mantua Marq marriage Marsio mother murder ne'er NEARCHUS never night noble o'er OROONOKO peace Pescara Philotas pity prison Pythias Ravenna revenge Seton Sfor Sforza sleep smile sorrow soul speak spirit sweet sword TAMERLANE tears tell thee There's thine thing thou art thou hast thought Twas twill Vent voice weep wouldst wretch youth
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 25 - It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul, — Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars ! — It is the cause.
الصفحة 35 - I have neither the scholar's melancholy, which is emulation ; nor the musician's which is fantastical ; nor the courtier's, which is proud ; nor the soldier's, which is ambitious ; nor the lawyer's, which is politic ; nor the lady's, which is nice ; nor the lover's, which is all these...
الصفحة 30 - O, reason not the need : our basest beggars Are in the poorest thing superfluous : Allow not nature more than nature needs, Man's life is cheap as beast's : thou art a lady ; If only to go warm were gorgeous, Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear'st, Which scarcely keeps thee warm.
الصفحة 19 - Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face, Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night. Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny What I have spoke: but farewell compliment! Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay,' And I will take thy word: yet, if thou swear'st, Thou mayst prove false: at lovers' perjuries, They say, Jove laughs.
الصفحة 35 - All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
الصفحة 46 - Hear him but reason in divinity, And, all-admiring, with an inward wish You would desire the king were made a prelate...
الصفحة 29 - Hear, Nature, hear ! dear goddess, hear ! Suspend thy purpose, if thou didst intend To make this creature fruitful ! Into her womb convey sterility ! Dry up in her the organs of increase, And from her derogate body never spring A babe to honour her ! If she must teem...
الصفحة 27 - With a bare bodkin ? who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscover'd country from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of ? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all...
الصفحة 47 - Now entertain conjecture of a time, When creeping murmur, and the poring dark, Fills the wide vessel of the universe. From camp to camp, through the foul womb of night, The hum of either army stilly sounds, That the fix'd sentinels almost receive The secret whispers of each other's watch...
الصفحة 18 - tis not to me she speaks: Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, Having some business, do entreat her eyes To twinkle in their spheres till they return. What if her eyes were there, they in her head? The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven Would through the airy region stream so bright That birds would sing and think it were not night.