The Sonnets of William Shakspere, rearranged and divided into four parts, with an intr. and explanatory notes [by R. Cartwright]. |
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Сторінка 39
... nor no remembrance what it was . But flowers distill'd , though they with winter meet , Lese1 but their show ; their substance still lives sweet . 1 ' Lese : ' lose . VI . Then let not winter's ragged hand deface In SONNETS . 39.
... nor no remembrance what it was . But flowers distill'd , though they with winter meet , Lese1 but their show ; their substance still lives sweet . 1 ' Lese : ' lose . VI . Then let not winter's ragged hand deface In SONNETS . 39.
Сторінка 46
... 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 ...
... 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 52
... every bough , And sweets grown common lose their dear delight . Therefore , like her , I sometime hold my tongue , Because I would not dull you with my song . XXVIII . Alack ! what poverty my Muse brings forth 52 SONNETS .
... every bough , And sweets grown common lose their dear delight . Therefore , like her , I sometime hold my tongue , Because I would not dull you with my song . XXVIII . Alack ! what poverty my Muse brings forth 52 SONNETS .
Сторінка 64
... lose name of single one , That by this separation I may give That due to thee , which thou deserv'st alone . Oh absence , what a torment wouldst thou prove , Were it not thy sour leasure gave sweet leave To entertain the time with ...
... lose name of single one , That by this separation I may give That due to thee , which thou deserv'st alone . Oh absence , what a torment wouldst thou prove , Were it not thy sour leasure gave sweet leave To entertain the time with ...
Сторінка 72
... losing me , shalt win much glory : And I by this will be a gainer too ; For bending all my loving thoughts on thee , The injuries that to myself I do , Doing thee vantage , double - vantage me . Such is my love , to thee I so belong ...
... losing me , shalt win much glory : And I by this will be a gainer too ; For bending all my loving thoughts on thee , The injuries that to myself I do , Doing thee vantage , double - vantage me . Such is my love , to thee I so belong ...
Загальні терміни та фрази
Antony Antony and Cleopatra bear beauteous beauty's bright Cæsar canst dead dear death deeds delight dost thou Earl Earl of Pembroke Enobarbus epistle face false fear flowers gainst gentle give grace hand happy hate hath heaven honour Julius Cæsar lame Lepidus live look love thee love's Love's fire Mark Antony Marlowe Menas Muse night painted Passionate Pilgrim pity Plutarch poem poet poetical Pompey poor praise pride proud prove rhyme rich rose shadow Shakspere Shakspere's shalt shame sight sinful earth sonnets soul Southampton speak spirit stanza steal summer's tell thine eyes things Thomas Thorpe thou art thou dost thou hast thou lov'st thou may'st thou seest thou wilt thought thy beauty thy fair thy heart thy love thy sweet thy worth thyself Time's tongue truth Venus and Adonis verse Whilst young youth
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Сторінка 55 - Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul Of the wide world dreaming on things to come, Can yet the lease of my true love control, Supposed as forfeit to a confined doom.
Сторінка 119 - Past reason hated, as a swallowed bait, On purpose laid to make the taker mad: Mad in pursuit, and in possession so; Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme; A bliss in proof, and proved, a very woe; Before, a joy proposed; behind, a dream.
Сторінка 82 - They that have power to hurt and will do none,' That do not do the thing they most do show, Who, moving others, are themselves as stone, Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow, They rightly do inherit heaven's graces And husband nature's riches from expense ; They are the lords and owners of their faces, Others but stewards of their excellence.
Сторінка 79 - 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 41 - If the true concord of well-tuned sounds, By unions married, do offend thine ear, They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds In singleness the parts that thou shouldst bear. Mark how one string, sweet husband to another, Strikes each in each by mutual ordering, Resembling sire and child and happy mother, Who, all in one, one pleasing note do sing; Whose speechless song, being many, seeming one, Sings this to thee :
Сторінка 58 - When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state, And trouble deaf Heaven with my bootless cries, And look upon myself, and curse my fate, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featured like him, like him with friends possessed, Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope...
Сторінка 37 - FROM fairest creatures we desire Increase, * That thereby beauty's rose might never die, But as the riper should by time decease, His tender heir might bear his memory: But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes, Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel, * Making a famine where abundance lies, Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel. Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament, And only...
Сторінка 120 - So shalt thou feed on Death, that feeds on men, And Death once dead, there's no more dying then.
Сторінка 109 - 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...
Сторінка 54 - When in the chronicle of wasted time I see descriptions of the fairest wights, And beauty making beautiful old rhyme In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights, Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty's best, Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow, I see their antique pen would have expressed Even such a beauty as you master now.