The Plays of William Shakespeare: With Notes of Various Commentators, 12. kiadás

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G. Kearsley [Printed, 1806

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42. oldal - The winds were love-sick with them : the oars were silver ; Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made The water, which they beat, to follow faster, As amorous of their strokes. For her own person, It...
24. oldal - It hath been taught us from the primal state That he which is was wish'd until he were; And the ebb'd man, ne'er lov'd till ne'er worth love, Comes dear'd by being lack'd. This common body, Like to a vagabond flag upon the stream, Goes to and back, lackeying the varying tide, To rot itself with motion.
271. oldal - Fear no more the frown o' the great: Thou art past the tyrant's stroke. Care no more to clothe and eat; To thee the reed is as the oak: The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this, and come to dust.
267. oldal - O thou goddess, Thou divine Nature, how thyself thou blazon'st : In these two princely boys ! They are as gentle As zephyrs, blowing below the violet, Not wagging his sweet head : and yet as rough, Their royal blood enchaf 'd, as the rud'st wind, That by the top doth take the mountain pine And make him stoop to the vale.
149. oldal - With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate Of life at once untie: poor venomous fool, Be angry, and dispatch. O, couldst thou speak, That I might hear thee call great Caesar ass Unpolicied ! CHAR. O eastern star ! CLEO. Peace, peace ! Dost thou not see my baby at my breast, That sucks the nurse asleep ? CHAR.
269. oldal - Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele, I'll sweeten thy sad grave: Thou shalt not lack The flower, that's like thy face, pale primrose; nor The azur'd hare-bell, like thy veins; no, nor The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander, Out-sweeten'd not thy breath...
148. oldal - Give me my robe, put on my crown ; I have Immortal longings in me: Now no more The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip : — Yare, yare, good Iras; quick. — Methinks, I hear Antony call; I see him rouse himself To praise my noble act...
152. oldal - Take up her bed, And bear her women from the monument:— She shall be buried by her Antony: No grave upon the earth shall clip in it A pair so famous. High events as these Strike those that make them; and their story is No less in pity than his glory which Brought them to be lamented.
318. oldal - The female fays shall haunt the green, And dress thy grave with pearly dew ; The red-breast oft at evening hours Shall kindly lend his little aid, With hoary moss, and gather'd flowers, To deck the ground where thou art laid.
238. oldal - tis slander, Whose edge is sharper than the sword ; whose tongue Outvenoms all the worms of Nile ; * whose breath Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie All corners of the world : kings, queens, and states,1 Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave This viperous slander enters.

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