Відгуки відвідувачів - Написати рецензію
Не знайдено жодних рецензій.
Altamont arms bear beauty behold better bless blood breast brother Cæsar Calista Cato cause child comes dear death dost thou Douglas dreadful earth Enter ev'n Exit eyes fair fall false fate father fear feel fond forgive gentle give Glost gods grace grief guard hand happy Hast head hear heart Heav'n hold honour hope Horatia hour Juba kind king Lady leave live look lord lost Loth Lucia means meet mind nature never night noble o'er once passion peace perhaps pity poor Portius prince rage Randolph rest rise Roman Rome SCENE senate shame sorrows soul speak stand sure sword Syph tears tell tender thee thou thou art thou hast thought turn Valeria virtue wish wretch young youth
Сторінка 79 - It must be so — Plato, thou reason'st well! — Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire, This longing after immortality? Or whence, this secret dread, and inward horror, Of falling into nought? why shrinks the soul Back on herself, and startles at destruction? 'Tis the divinity that stirs within us; Tis heav'n itself, that points out an hereafter, And intimates eternity to man: Eternity! thou pleasing, dreadful thought! Through what variety of untried being, Through what new scenes and...
Сторінка 79 - The wide, the unbounded prospect lies before me; But shadows, clouds, and darkness rest upon it. Here will I hold. If there's a power above us — And that there is, all nature cries aloud Through all her works — He must delight in virtue; And that which He delights in must be happy.
Сторінка 79 - The stars shall fade away, the sun himself Grow dim with age and nature sink in years : But thou shall flourish in immortal youth, Unhurt amidst the war of elements, The wreck of matter and the crush of worlds.
Сторінка 33 - My voice is still for war. Gods ! can a Roman senate long debate Which of the two to choose, slavery or death ? No ; let us rise at once, gird on our swords, And, at the head of our remaining troops, Attack the foe, break through the thick array Of his thronged legions, and charge home upon him.
Сторінка 47 - Honour's a sacred tie, the law of kings, The noble mind's distinguishing perfection, That aids and strengthens virtue, where it meets her, And imitates her actions, where she is not : It ought not to be sported with.
Сторінка 27 - Tis not a set of features, or complexion, The tincture of a skin, that I admire. Beauty soon grows familiar to the lover, Fades in his eye, and palls upon the sense.
Сторінка x - To wake the soul by tender strokes of art, To raise the genius, and to mend the heart, To make mankind, in conscious virtue bold, Live o'er each scene, and be what they behold...
Сторінка 35 - Afric's heat, and season'd to the sun; Numidia's spacious kingdom lies behind us, Ready to rise at its young prince's call. While there is hope, do not distrust the gods ; But wait, at least, till Caesar's near approach Force us to yield.