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acclimatization Achaian ancient apostle Articles Banquo believe better Bishop book of Kings character Cheynell Chillingworth Christ Christian Church of England clergy creed criticism Cromwell death Divine Legation doctrine doubt English expression fact favour federal feel French friends G. C. Lewis give Gnosticism Gospel Greek heart Hissarlik Horace human Hurd idea Ilium imagination intellectual Jerusalem Jesus king Lady language learning less literary living Lord Lowth Macbeth means ment Meredith metre mind moral nation nature never once opinion Owen Meredith passage passion Pentateuch perhaps person poems poet poetic poetry Poland political Polybius present prophets question readers religion religious Russia Scamander scarcely Scripture seems Sir George Lewis society Socinianism speak species spirit Strabo thing thought tion true truth Warburton whole wish words writings
Сторінка 305 - I have given suck, and know How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me: I would, while it was smiling in my face, Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums, And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you Have done to this.
Сторінка 306 - Here's the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand.
Сторінка 310 - Your face, my thane, is as a book, where men May read strange matters : — to beguile the time, Look like the time ; bear welcome in your eye, Your hand, your tongue : look like the innocent flower, But be the serpent under it.
Сторінка 316 - Duncan is in his grave ; After life's fitful fever he sleeps well; Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison, Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing, Can touch him further.
Сторінка 319 - tis later, sir. Ban. Hold, take my sword. There's husbandry in heaven, Their candles are all out. Take thee that too. A heavy summons lies like lead upon me, And yet I would not sleep. Merciful powers, Restrain in me the cursed thoughts that nature Gives way to in repose!
Сторінка 527 - O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, which killest the prophets, and stonest them that are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children together, as a hen doth gather her brood under her wings, and ye would not...
Сторінка 190 - THE Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Сторінка 305 - Art thou afear'd To be the same in thine own act and valour, As thou art in desire ? Would'st thou have that Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life, And live a coward in thine own esteem; Letting "I dare not" wait upon "I would," Like the poor cat i