PoetryVicesimus Knox S. Walker, 1825 |
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Сторінка 12
... fear the soft and tender fork Of a poor worm . Thy best of rest is sleep , And that thou oft provok'st : yet grossly fear'st Thy death , which is no more . thyself ; Thou art not For thou exist'st on many a thousand grains ; That issue ...
... fear the soft and tender fork Of a poor worm . Thy best of rest is sleep , And that thou oft provok'st : yet grossly fear'st Thy death , which is no more . thyself ; Thou art not For thou exist'st on many a thousand grains ; That issue ...
Сторінка 44
... Fear no more the heat o ' the sun , Nor the furious winter's rages ; Thou thy worldly task hast done , Home art gone , and ta'en thy wages : Golden lads and girls all must , As chimney - sweepers , come to dust . Fear no more the frown ...
... Fear no more the heat o ' the sun , Nor the furious winter's rages ; Thou thy worldly task hast done , Home art gone , and ta'en thy wages : Golden lads and girls all must , As chimney - sweepers , come to dust . Fear no more the frown ...
Сторінка 68
... Fears of Death . Cowards die many times before their death ; The valiant never taste of death but once . Of all the wonders that I yet have heard , It seems to me most strange , that men should Seeing that death , a necessary end , [ fear ...
... Fears of Death . Cowards die many times before their death ; The valiant never taste of death but once . Of all the wonders that I yet have heard , It seems to me most strange , that men should Seeing that death , a necessary end , [ fear ...
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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