Studies in Shakespeare

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Sampson Low, Marston, Searle & Rivington, 1885 - 383 Seiten
 

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Seite 235 - It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear; Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!
Seite 208 - O! mickle is the powerful grace that lies In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities: For nought so vile that on the earth doth live But to the earth some special good doth give...
Seite 16 - That very time I saw (but thou couldst not), Flying between the cold moon and the earth, Cupid all arm'd : a certain aim he took At a fair vestal throned by the west, And loos'd his love-shaft smartly from his bow, As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts : But I might see young Cupid's fiery shaft Quench'd in the chaste beams of the watery moon, And the imperial votaress passed on, In maiden meditation, fancy-free.
Seite 10 - Save base authority from others' books. • These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights, That give a name to every fixed star, Have no more profit of their shining nights, Than those that walk, and wot not what they are.
Seite 163 - For then my thoughts, from far where I abide, Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee, And keep my drooping eyelids open wide, Looking on darkness which the blind do see: Save that my soul's imaginary sight Presents thy shadow to my sightless view, Which, like a jewel hung in ghastly night, Makes black night beauteous and her old face new.
Seite 99 - The soldiers' music, and the rites of war, Speak loudly for him. — Take up the bodies : — Such a sight as this Becomes the field, but here shows much amiss. Go, bid the soldiers shoot.
Seite 139 - Good my complexion! dost thou think, though I am caparisoned like a man, I have a doublet and hose in my disposition...
Seite 178 - prove all things, and to hold fast that which is good
Seite 42 - A strange fellow here Writes me: That man, how dearly ever parted, How much in having, or without or in, Cannot make boast to have that which he hath, Nor feels not what he owes, but by reflection; As when his virtues shining upon others Heat them and they retort that heat again To the first giver.' ACHILLES This is not strange, Ulysses. The beauty that is borne here in the face The bearer knows not, but commends itself To others...
Seite 342 - O, it is monstrous! monstrous! Methought, the billows spoke, and told me of it; The winds did sing it to me; and the thunder, That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounc'd The name of Prosper; it did bass my trespass. Therefore my son i" the ooze is bedded ; and I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded, And with him there lie mudded.

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