Ueber W. Shakspeare

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Orell, Gessner, Fůssli und Comp., 1787 - 683 стор.

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Сторінка 622 - Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now; Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross, Join with the spite of fortune...
Сторінка 590 - When forty winters shall besiege thy brow, And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field, Thy youth's proud livery, so gazed on now, Will be a tatter'd weed, of small worth held...
Сторінка 624 - 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 625 - Saturn laugh'd and leap'd with him. Yet nor the lays of birds nor the sweet smell Of different flowers in odour and in hue Could make me any summer's story tell...
Сторінка 661 - As it fell upon a day In the merry month of May, Sitting in a pleasant shade Which a grove of myrtles made...
Сторінка 635 - 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 596 - Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion's paws, And make the earth devour her own sweet brood...
Сторінка 652 - Crabbed age and youth Cannot live together ; Youth is full of pleasance, Age is full of care : Youth like summer morn, Age like winter weather ; Youth like summer brave, Age like winter bare. Youth is full of sport, Age's breath is short, Youth is nimble, age is lame: Youth is hot and bold, Age is weak and cold ; Youth is wild, and age is tame.
Сторінка 662 - Every one that flatters thee Is no friend in misery. Words are easy, like the wind ; Faithful friends are hard to find : Every man will be thy friend Whilst thou hast wherewith to spend ; But, if store of crowns be scant, No man will supply thy want. If that one be prodigal, Bountiful they will him call, And with such-like flattering, Pity but he were a king...
Сторінка 595 - 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 ; Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm'd ; And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd.

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