PoetryVicesimus Knox S. Walker, 1825 |
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... death ; either death or life Shall thereby be the sweeter . Reason thus If I do lose thee , I do lose a thing [ with life : That none but fools would keep a breath thou Servile to all the skiey influences , [ art , That do this ...
... death ; either death or life Shall thereby be the sweeter . Reason thus If I do lose thee , I do lose a thing [ with life : That none but fools would keep a breath thou Servile to all the skiey influences , [ art , That do this ...
Сторінка 90
... death ; then banishment Is death misterm'd calling death banishment , Thou cutt'st my head off with a golden axe , And smil'st upon the stroke that murders me . Fri. O deadly sin ! O rude unthankful- ness ! [ prince , Thy fault our law ...
... death ; then banishment Is death misterm'd calling death banishment , Thou cutt'st my head off with a golden axe , And smil'st upon the stroke that murders me . Fri. O deadly sin ! O rude unthankful- ness ! [ prince , Thy fault our law ...
Сторінка 180
... Death the poor delinquent spar'd , And left to live a little longer . Yet , calling up a serious look , — His hour - glass trembled while he spoke , — " Neighbor , " he said , " farewell : no more Shall Death disturb your mirthful hour ...
... Death the poor delinquent spar'd , And left to live a little longer . Yet , calling up a serious look , — His hour - glass trembled while he spoke , — " Neighbor , " he said , " farewell : no more Shall Death disturb your mirthful hour ...
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Ajax arms art thou bear beauty behold blood breast breath bright Brutus Cæsar call'd Cassius cheek Comus Cymbeline dead dear death Decius didst dost doth dread dream earth ev'ry eyes fair father fear fire flow'rs gentle give gods gold grace grief Hadad hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hell honor hour Iago king Lady light live look lord lov'd lyre Macb Macbeth Macd Marcian mind moon Muse nature ne'er never night noble nymph o'er Othello Pandarus peace pity poor pow'r pride prince Rome round seem'd SHAKSPEARE sight sleep smile soft Sonnet sorrow soul speak spide spirit stamp'd sweet sword tears tell thee thine things thou art thou hast thought thyself tongue twas Tybalt unto Vent vex'd virtue voice weep wind wretched youth