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Сторінка 169 - INVOCATE, And he that calls on thee, let him bring forth Eternal numbers to out-live long date. Ferner Shakesp. Son. 76. Why is my verse so barren of new pride, So far from variation or quick change? Why, with the time, do I not glance aside To NEW FOUND METHODS AND TO COMPOUNDS
Сторінка 196 - no more! So shalt thou feed on Death, that feeds on Men, And, Death once dead, there's no more dying then. Dieses erhabene, -wie eine Hymne tönende Gedicht (das der urtheilslose Herausgeber vor No. 151 bringt!) erinnert an das
Сторінка 167 - My heart in him, his thought and senses guides: He loves my heart, for once it was his own; I cherish his, because in me it bides. Shakesp. Son. 22. — — For all that beauty, that doth cover thee, Is but the seemly raiment of my heart, WHICH IN THY
Сторінка 193 - To WIN ME SOON TO HELL, MY FEMALE EVIL TEMPTETH MY BETTER ANGEL FROM MY SIDE, AND WOULD CORRUPT MY SAINT TO BE A DEVIL, WOOING HIS PURITY WITH HER FOUL PRIDE. And whether that my angel be turn'd fiend, Suspect I may, yet not directly tell; But being both from me, both to each friend, I GUESS ONE
Сторінка 179 - But is profan'd, if not lives in disgrace. Therefore, my mistress' eyes are raven-black, Her eyes so suited; and they mourners seem At such, who, not born fair, no beauty lack, Slandering creation with a false esteem: Yet so they mourn, becoming of their woe, That every tongue says, beauty should
Сторінка 179 - with pretty ruth upon my pain : And truly not the morning sun of heaven Better becomes the grey cheeks of the east, Nor that füll star that ushers in the even, Doth half that glory to the sober west, As those two mourning eyes become
Сторінка 154 - my skill in horsemanship advance: Townfolks my strength, a daintier Judge applies His praise to sleight, which from good use doth rise: Some lucky wits impute it but to chance-. Others because of both sides I do take My blood from them, who did
Сторінка 180 - face, O, let it then as well beseem thy heart To mourn for me, since mourning doth thee grace, And suit thy pity like in every part: Then will I swear Beauty herself is black, And all they foul that thy complexion lack.
Сторінка 176 - ihres Dichters sonnte und ihn sein Herzblut vergeuden ließ ohne Mitleiden und ohne Liebe. Sie konnte von sich sagen: So portent-like would I o'ersway his state, THAT HE SHOULD BE MY FOOL AND I HIS FATE.' Die unverkennbare Begeisterung Shakespeare's für Sidney hat ihn
Сторінка 186 - a thousand errors note; usw Im 148. O me! what eyes hath love put in my head, Which have no correspondence with true sight! Or, if they have, where is my judgement fled, That censures falsely what they see

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