The Shakespeare Anthology: 1592-1616 A. D.

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Edward Arber
New York, H. Frowde, 1899 - 312 من الصفحات
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الصفحة 11 - Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever, One foot in sea and one on shore, To one thing constant never : Then sigh not so, but let them go, And be you blithe and bonny, Converting all your sounds of woe Into Hey nonny, nonny.
الصفحة 15 - Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypress let me be laid ; Fly away, fly away, breath ; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O, prepare it ! My part of death, no one so true Did share it.
الصفحة 203 - With the best gamesters : what things have we seen Done at the Mermaid; heard words that have been So nimble, and so full of subtle flame, As if that every one from whence they came Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest, And had resolved to live a fool the rest Of his dull life...
الصفحة 19 - Every thing did banish moan, Save the nightingale alone : She, poor bird, as all forlorn, Lean'd her breast up-till a thorn, And there sung the dolefull'st ditty, That to hear it was great pity : 'Fie, fie, fie...
الصفحة 299 - How happy is he born and taught, That serveth not another's will! Whose armour is his honest thought, And simple truth his utmost skill...
الصفحة 15 - Blow, blow, thou winter wind, Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude ; Thy tooth is not so keen, Because thou art not seen, Although thy breath be rude.
الصفحة 219 - DRINK to me, only with thine eyes ; And I will pledge with mine ! Or leave a kiss but in the cup; And I'll not look for wine!
الصفحة 14 - em, if thou canst : leave working. SONG. Orpheus with his lute made trees, And the mountain tops that freeze, Bow themselves when he did sing ; To his music plants and flowers Ever sprung, as sun and showers There had made a lasting spring. Every thing that heard him play, Even the billows of the sea, Hung their heads, and then lay by. In sweet music is such art, Killing care and grief of heart Fall asleep, or hearing die.
الصفحة 136 - A honey tongue, a heart of gall, Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall. Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies, Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten ; In folly ripe, in reason rotten. Thy belt of straw, and ivy buds, Thy coral clasps, and amber studs, All these in me no means can move To come to thee, and be thy love.
الصفحة 10 - The heaven such grace did lend her, That she might admired be. Is she kind, as she is fair, For beauty lives with kindness f Love doth to her eyes repair, To help him of his blindness ; And, being helpd, inhabits there.

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