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 11
... pity , ' ' gan she cry , flint - hearted boy ! ' Tis but a kiss I beg : why art thou coy ? I have been woo'd , as I entreat thee now , Even by the stern and direful god of war , Whose sinewy neck in battle ne'er did bow ; Who conquers ...
... pity , ' ' gan she cry , flint - hearted boy ! ' Tis but a kiss I beg : why art thou coy ? I have been woo'd , as I entreat thee now , Even by the stern and direful god of war , Whose sinewy neck in battle ne'er did bow ; Who conquers ...
Сторінка 18
... Pity ! ' she cries ; some favor ! some remorse ! ' i Away he springs , and hasteth to his horse . But , lo , from forth a copse that neighbors by , A breeding jennet , lusty , young , and proud , Adonis ' trampling courser doth espy ...
... Pity ! ' she cries ; some favor ! some remorse ! ' i Away he springs , and hasteth to his horse . But , lo , from forth a copse that neighbors by , A breeding jennet , lusty , young , and proud , Adonis ' trampling courser doth espy ...
Сторінка 32
... pity now she can no more detain him ; The poor fool prays her that he may depart : She is resolved no longer to restrain him ; Bids him farewell , and look well to her heart , The which , by Cupid's bow she doth protest , He carries ...
... pity now she can no more detain him ; The poor fool prays her that he may depart : She is resolved no longer to restrain him ; Bids him farewell , and look well to her heart , The which , by Cupid's bow she doth protest , He carries ...
Сторінка 50
... pity , but is still severe : Then , gentle shadow , ( truth I must confess ) I rail'd on thee , fearing my love's decease . " Tis not my fault ; the boar provoked my tongue : Be wreak'd on him , invisible commander : ' Tis he foul ...
... pity , but is still severe : Then , gentle shadow , ( truth I must confess ) I rail'd on thee , fearing my love's decease . " Tis not my fault ; the boar provoked my tongue : Be wreak'd on him , invisible commander : ' Tis he foul ...
Сторінка 54
... pity of his tender years , They both would strive who first should dry his tears . To see his face , the lion walk'd along Behind some hedge , because he would not fear “ him : To recreate himself , when he hath sung , The tiger would ...
... pity of his tender years , They both would strive who first should dry his tears . To see his face , the lion walk'd along Behind some hedge , because he would not fear “ him : To recreate himself , when he hath sung , The tiger would ...
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.