The dramatic (poetical) works of William Shakspeare; illustr., embracing a life of the poet and notes, Том 8 |
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Сторінка 18
... breath , whose gentle wind Shall cool the heat of this descending sun ; I'll make a shadow for thee of my hairs ; If they burn too , I'll quench them with my tears 1 ' Tired , attired . " The sun that shines from heaven shines but warm ...
... breath , whose gentle wind Shall cool the heat of this descending sun ; I'll make a shadow for thee of my hairs ; If they burn too , I'll quench them with my tears 1 ' Tired , attired . " The sun that shines from heaven shines but warm ...
Сторінка 27
... breath . Who wears a garment shapeless and unfinished ? Who plucks the bud before one leaf put forth ? If springing things be any jot diminished , They wither in their prime , prove nothing worth : The colt that's backed and burthened ...
... breath . Who wears a garment shapeless and unfinished ? Who plucks the bud before one leaf put forth ? If springing things be any jot diminished , They wither in their prime , prove nothing worth : The colt that's backed and burthened ...
Сторінка 28
... : " O , train me not , sweet mermaid , with thy note , To drown me in thy sister's flood of tears ; Sing , siren , for thyself , and I will dote . " For from the still'tory of thy face excelling Comes breath 20 VENUS AND ADONIS .
... : " O , train me not , sweet mermaid , with thy note , To drown me in thy sister's flood of tears ; Sing , siren , for thyself , and I will dote . " For from the still'tory of thy face excelling Comes breath 20 VENUS AND ADONIS .
Сторінка 29
William Shakespeare. For from the still'tory of thy face excelling Comes breath perfumed , that breedeth love by smelling . " But O , what banquet wert thou to the taste , Being nurse and feeder of the other four ! Would they not wish ...
William Shakespeare. For from the still'tory of thy face excelling Comes breath perfumed , that breedeth love by smelling . " But O , what banquet wert thou to the taste , Being nurse and feeder of the other four ! Would they not wish ...
Сторінка 30
... breath breatheth life in her again . He wrings her nose , he strikes her on the cheeks He bends her fingers , holds her pulses hard ; He chafes her lips , a thousand ways he seeks To mend the hurt that his unkindness marred ; He kisses ...
... breath breatheth life in her again . He wrings her nose , he strikes her on the cheeks He bends her fingers , holds her pulses hard ; He chafes her lips , a thousand ways he seeks To mend the hurt that his unkindness marred ; He kisses ...
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Antony bear beauteous beauty's behold blood breast breath brow Brutus Cæsar Cassius character cheek Collatine Coriolanus dead dear death deeds delight desire dost thou doth England's Helicon face fair fair lords false faults fear flowers foul gentle give grace grief hand hate hath heart heaven honor Julius Cæsar kiss lines lips live look love's Love's Labor's Lost LOVER'S COMPLAINT Lucrece lust Malone mayst mind mistress muse never night painted Passionate Pilgrim pity Plutarch poem poet poor praise pride proud quoth rhyme Roman Rome scene shadow Shakspeare Shakspeare's shalt shame sight Sonnets sorrow soul speak stanzas Tarpeian Rock Tarquin tears tell thine eyes thing thou art thou dost thou wilt thought thy beauty thy love thy sweet thyself Time's tongue true truth Venus and Adonis verse weep Whilst William Jaggard words wound young Rome youth
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Сторінка 262 - Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove. O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Сторінка 203 - Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Сторінка 309 - That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west; Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
Сторінка 367 - If all the world and love were young, And truth in every shepherd's tongue, These pretty pleasures might me move To live with thee and be thy Love.
Сторінка 273 - Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing, And like enough thou know'st thy estimate ; The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing ; My bonds in thee are all determinate. For how do I hold thee but by thy granting ? And for that riches where is my deserving? The cause of this fair gift in me is wanting, And so my patent back again is swerving.
Сторінка 300 - And brass eternal slave to mortal rage ; When I have seen the hungry ocean gain Advantage on the kingdom of the shore, And the firm soil win of the watery main, Increasing store with loss and loss with store; When I have seen such interchange of state, Or state itself confounded to decay ; Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate, That Time will come and take my love away.
Сторінка 352 - A belt of straw and ivy buds With coral clasps and amber studs: And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me and be my love.
Сторінка 155 - Desiring this man's art and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least : Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, and then my state, Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate; For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings'.
Сторінка 197 - 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...
Сторінка 286 - Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date...