The Plays & Poems of Shakespeare: Venus & Adonis. The rape of Lucrece. Sonnets. A lover's complaint. The passionate pilgrim. Index to the striking passages & beautiesH:O. Bohn, 1857 |
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Сторінка 13
... grow ; My flesh is soft and plump , my marrow burning : My smooth moist hand , were it with thy hand felt , Would in thy palm dissolve , or seem to melt . Bid me discourse , I will enchant thine ear ; Or , like a fairy , trip upon the ...
... grow ; My flesh is soft and plump , my marrow burning : My smooth moist hand , were it with thy hand felt , Would in thy palm dissolve , or seem to melt . Bid me discourse , I will enchant thine ear ; Or , like a fairy , trip upon the ...
Сторінка 14
... growing to themselves are growth's abuse . Seeds spring from seeds , and beauty breedeth beauty : Thou wast begot ; -to get it is thy duty . Upon the earth's increase why shouldst thou feed , Unless the earth with thy increase be fed ...
... growing to themselves are growth's abuse . Seeds spring from seeds , and beauty breedeth beauty : Thou wast begot ; -to get it is thy duty . Upon the earth's increase why shouldst thou feed , Unless the earth with thy increase be fed ...
Сторінка 30
... grows to face : Till , breathless , he disjoin'd , and backward drew The heavenly moisture , that sweet coral mouth , Whose precious taste her thirsty lips well knew , Whereon they surfeit , yet complain on drought : He with her plenty ...
... grows to face : Till , breathless , he disjoin'd , and backward drew The heavenly moisture , that sweet coral mouth , Whose precious taste her thirsty lips well knew , Whereon they surfeit , yet complain on drought : He with her plenty ...
Сторінка 58
... grow unto himself was his desire , And so ' tis thine ; but know , it is as good To wither in my breast , as in his blood . ' Here was thy father's bed , here in my breast ; Thou art the next of blood , and ' tis thy right : Lo ! in ...
... grow unto himself was his desire , And so ' tis thine ; but know , it is as good To wither in my breast , as in his blood . ' Here was thy father's bed , here in my breast ; Thou art the next of blood , and ' tis thy right : Lo ! in ...
Сторінка 68
... grows old ! When at Collatium this false lord arrived , Well was he welcomed by the Roman dame , Within whose face beauty and virtue strived Which of them both should underprop her fame . When virtue bragg'd , beauty would blush for ...
... grows old ! When at Collatium this false lord arrived , Well was he welcomed by the Roman dame , Within whose face beauty and virtue strived Which of them both should underprop her fame . When virtue bragg'd , beauty would blush for ...
Загальні терміни та фрази
Adonis bear beauteous beauty's behold blood blushing boar breast breath bright brow cheeks Collatine dead dear death deeds delight desire dost thou doth face fair fair lords falchion false fault fear fire flower forsworn foul gainst gentle give grace grief groans hand hast hate hath hear heart heaven honor kiss lend light lips live looks love's love's fire Love's Labor's Lost LOVER'S COMPLAINT Lucrece lust mayst mind Muse never night numbers o'er pale PASSIONATE PILGRIM pity poison'd poor praise Priam pride proud quoth RAPE OF LUCRECE seem'd shadow SHAK shame sighs sight Sonnet sorrow soul swear Tarquin tears thee thence thine eyes thing thou art thou dost thou shalt thou wilt thought thy love thy sweet thyself Time's tongue true truth unto Venus and Adonis weary weep wherein wind words wound youth
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Сторінка 158 - But thy eternal summer shall not fade, Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest ; Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou growest. So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
Сторінка 212 - Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul Of the wide world dreaming on things to come, Can yet the lease of my true love control, Suppos'd as forfeit to a confin'd doom.
Сторінка 266 - 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 213 - To leave for nothing all thy sum of good ; For nothing this wide universe I call, Save thou, my rose ; in it thou art my all. ex. Alas, 'tis true I have gone here and there, And made myself a motley to the view...
Сторінка 218 - If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Сторінка 231 - But wherefore says she not she is unjust? And wherefore say not I that I am old? O love's best habit is in seeming trust, And age in love loves not to have years told. Therefore I lie with her, and she with me, And in our faults by lies we flattered be.
Сторінка 226 - Past reason hated, as a swallow'd bait, On purpose laid to make the taker mad: Mad in pursuit, and in possession so; Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme; A bliss in proof, — and prov'd, a very woe; Before, a joy propos'd; behind, a dream.
Сторінка 200 - Was it the proud full sail of his great verse, Bound for the prize of all too precious you, That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse, Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew? Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead? No, neither he, nor his compeers by night Giving him aid, my verse astonished. He, nor that affable familiar ghost Which nightly gulls him with intelligence, As victors of my silence cannot boast — I was not sick of any fear...
Сторінка 213 - Though absence seem'd my flame to qualify. As easy might I from myself depart As from my soul, which in thy breast doth lie : That is my home of love : if I have ranged, Like him that travels I return again, Just to the time, not with the time exchanged, So that myself bring water for my stain.
Сторінка 197 - I, once gone, to all the world must die. The earth can yield me but a common grave. When you entombed in men's eyes shall lie. Your monument shall be my gentle verse, Which eyes not yet created shall o'er-read. And tongues to be your being shall rehearse When all the breathers of this world are dead. You still shall live — such virtue hath my pen — Where breath most breathes, even in the mouths of men.