The Complete Works of William Shakespeare: With Historical and Analytical Prefaces, Comments, Critical and Explanatory Notes, Glossaries, and a Life of Shakespeare, 5. kötet

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J. A. Hill, 1901

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43. oldal - Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil, And posts, like the commandment of a king, Sans check to good and bad...
92. oldal - Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, A great-sized monster of ingratitudes: Those scraps are good deeds past; which are devour'd As fast as they are made, forgot as soon As done: perseverance, dear my lord, Keeps honour bright: to have done is to hang Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail In monumental mockery.
56. oldal - Hark, hark ! the lark at heaven's gate sings, And Phoebus 'gins arise, His steeds to water at those springs On chaliced flowers that lies ; And winking Mary-buds begin To ope their golden eyes : With every thing that pretty is, My lady sweet, arise : Arise, arise.
78. oldal - For heaven sake, Hubert, let me not be bound ! Nay, hear me, Hubert ! drive these men away, And I will sit as quiet as a lamb; I will not stir, nor wince, nor speak a word, Nor look upon the iron angerly : Thrust but these men away, and I'll forgive you, Whatever torment you do put me to.
82. oldal - This is the monstruosity in love, lady, that the will is infinite and the execution confined, that the desire is boundless and the act a slave to limit.
187. oldal - To fair Fidele's grassy tomb Soft maids and village hinds shall bring Each opening sweet of earliest bloom, And rifle all the breathing spring. No wailing ghost shall dare appear To vex with shrieks this quiet grove; But shepherd lads assemble here, And melting virgins own their love. No...
109. 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.
15. oldal - Fie, fie upon her! There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip, Nay, her foot speaks ; her wanton spirits look out At every joint and motive of her body.
81. oldal - To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful, and ridiculous excess.
180. oldal - Jug, jug, jug, jug, tereu ! she cries, And still her woes at midnight rise. Brave prick-song ! Who is't now we hear ? None but the lark so shrill and clear ; Now at heaven's gate she claps her wings, The morn not waking till she sings. Hark, hark, with what a pretty throat Poor robin redbreast tunes his note : Hark how the jolly cuckoos sing Cuckoo...

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