The Poetical Works of William Shakspeare and the Earl of SurreyJames Nichol, 1862 - 316 стор. |
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Сторінка 11
... wounds , Whose hollow womb resounds like heaven's thunder ; The iron bit he crushes ' tween his teeth , Controlling what he was controlled with . 46 His ears up prick'd ; his braided hanging mane Upon his compass'd3 crest now stand on ...
... wounds , Whose hollow womb resounds like heaven's thunder ; The iron bit he crushes ' tween his teeth , Controlling what he was controlled with . 46 His ears up prick'd ; his braided hanging mane Upon his compass'd3 crest now stand on ...
Сторінка 15
... wound ; 1 For one sweet look thy help I would assure thee , Though nothing but my body's bane would cure thee . ' 63 ' Give me my hand , ' saith he , ' why dost thou feel it ? ' ' Give me my heart , ' saith she , ' and thou shalt have ...
... wound ; 1 For one sweet look thy help I would assure thee , Though nothing but my body's bane would cure thee . ' 63 ' Give me my hand , ' saith he , ' why dost thou feel it ? ' ' Give me my heart , ' saith she , ' and thou shalt have ...
Сторінка 33
... wound , ' Gainst venom'd sores the only sovereign plaster ; And here she meets another sadly scowling , To whom she speaks , and he replies with howling . 1 Mated : confounded . - 2 Respect : ' circumspection . с 154 When he hath ceased ...
... wound , ' Gainst venom'd sores the only sovereign plaster ; And here she meets another sadly scowling , To whom she speaks , and he replies with howling . 1 Mated : confounded . - 2 Respect : ' circumspection . с 154 When he hath ceased ...
Сторінка 38
... wound that the boar had trench'd In his soft flank ; whose wonted lily white With purple tears , that his wound wept , was drench'd : No flower was nigh , no grass , herb , leaf , or weed , But stole his blood , and seem'd with him to ...
... wound that the boar had trench'd In his soft flank ; whose wonted lily white With purple tears , that his wound wept , was drench'd : No flower was nigh , no grass , herb , leaf , or weed , But stole his blood , and seem'd with him to ...
Сторінка 65
... wound'st his princely name . Thou art not what thou seem'st ; and if the same , Thou seem'st not what thou art , a god , a king ; For kings like gods should govern everything . Pretended : ' proposed to thyself . E 87 How will thy shame ...
... wound'st his princely name . Thou art not what thou seem'st ; and if the same , Thou seem'st not what thou art , a god , a king ; For kings like gods should govern everything . Pretended : ' proposed to thyself . E 87 How will thy shame ...
Загальні терміни та фрази
Adonis art thou bear beauty beauty's behold birds blood breast breath burn careful song cheeks Collatine dead dear death delight desire doth dread Earl EARL OF SURREY earth face fair false fault fear fire flame flower foul gentle give grace grief hand hate hath hear heart heaven Henry VIII honour king kiss lady light lips live look Lord love's LOVER Lucrece lust mind never night pain pale pity plain pleasure poet poison'd poor praise Priam proud quoth rage Rape of Lucrece Shakspeare Shakspeare's shalt shame sighs sight sleep Sonnets sorrow soul Stratford Surrey Surrey's Susanna Hall sweet Tarquin tears tender thee things thou art thou hast thought thyself tongue travail true truth unto Venus and Adonis weary web of trust weep wilt wind woful wound youth
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Сторінка 118 - But thy eternal summer shall not fade, Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest ; Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou growest. So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
Сторінка 173 - And yet by heaven I think my love as rare As any she belied with false compare.
Сторінка 115 - And sable curls all silver'd o'er with white, When lofty trees I see barren of leaves Which erst from heat did canopy the herd, And summer's green all girded up in sheaves Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard, Then of thy beauty do I question make, That thou among the wastes of time must go, Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake And die as fast as they see others grow ; And nothing 'gainst Time's scythe can make defence Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.
Сторінка 125 - I'll read, his for his love." XXXIII Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy; Anon permit the basest clouds to ride With ugly rack on his celestial face And from the forlorn world his visage hide, Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace.
Сторінка 31 - Lo, here the gentle lark, weary of rest, From his moist cabinet mounts up on high, And wakes the morning, from whose silver breast The sun ariseth in his majesty; Who doth the world so gloriously behold, That cedar-tops and hills seem burnish'd gold.
Сторінка 172 - In the old age black was not counted fair, Or if it were, it bore not beauty's name; But now is black beauty's successive heir, And beauty slander'd with a bastard shame: For since each hand hath put on nature's power, Fairing the foul with art's false borrow'd face, Sweet beauty hath no name, no holy bower, But is profaned, if not lives in disgrace. Therefore my mistress...
Сторінка 157 - Like widow'd wombs after their lords' decease: Yet this abundant issue seem'd to me But hope of orphans, and unfather'd fruit; For summer and his pleasures wait on thee, And, thou away, the very birds are mute: Or, if they sing, 'tis with so dull a cheer, That leaves look pale, dreading the winter's near.
Сторінка 138 - Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crown'd, Crooked eclipses 'gainst his glory fight, And Time, that gave, doth now his gift confound. Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth, And delves the parallels in beauty's brow ; Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth, And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow.
Сторінка 136 - Not marble, nor the gilded monuments Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme ; But you shall shine more bright in these contents Than unswept stone, besmear'd with sluttish time. When wasteful war shall statues overturn, And broils root out the work of masonry, Nor Mars his sword nor war's quick fire shall burn The living record of your memory.
Сторінка 124 - And moan the expense of many a vanish'd sight : Then can I grieve at grievances foregone, And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan, Which I new pay as if not paid before. But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, All losses are restored and sorrows end.