A dictionary of quotations from the British poets, by the author of The peerage and baronetage charts, &c1824 |
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60. oldal
... pretty flowret's eyes , Like tears , that did their own disgrace bewail . I must go seek some dew - drops here , And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear . DISCONTENT . O thoughts of men accurs'd ! Past , Determination རྩེརྫེ་པ.
... pretty flowret's eyes , Like tears , that did their own disgrace bewail . I must go seek some dew - drops here , And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear . DISCONTENT . O thoughts of men accurs'd ! Past , Determination རྩེརྫེ་པ.
61. oldal
British poets. DISCONTENT . O thoughts of men accurs'd ! Past , and to come , seem best ; things present , worst . Happiness courts thee in her best array ; But , like a mis - behav'd and sullen wench , Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and ...
British poets. DISCONTENT . O thoughts of men accurs'd ! Past , and to come , seem best ; things present , worst . Happiness courts thee in her best array ; But , like a mis - behav'd and sullen wench , Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and ...
68. oldal
... thoughts of men The things that are not ? O error , soon conceiv'd , Thou never com'st unto a happy birth , But kill'st the mother that engender'd thee . EXECUTION . You few that lov'd me , And dare be bold to weep for Buckingham , His ...
... thoughts of men The things that are not ? O error , soon conceiv'd , Thou never com'st unto a happy birth , But kill'st the mother that engender'd thee . EXECUTION . You few that lov'd me , And dare be bold to weep for Buckingham , His ...
75. oldal
... thoughts , Cannot once start me . FIDELITY . He that can endure To follow with allegiance a fallen lord , Doth conquer him that did his master conquer , And earns a place i ' the story . I'll yet follow The wounded chance of Antony ...
... thoughts , Cannot once start me . FIDELITY . He that can endure To follow with allegiance a fallen lord , Doth conquer him that did his master conquer , And earns a place i ' the story . I'll yet follow The wounded chance of Antony ...
79. oldal
... thoughts immaculate ; His tears , pure messengers sent from his heart ; His heart as far from fraud , as heaven from ... thought ; it doth abuse your bosom . If any wretch hath put this in your head , Let heaven requite it with the ...
... thoughts immaculate ; His tears , pure messengers sent from his heart ; His heart as far from fraud , as heaven from ... thought ; it doth abuse your bosom . If any wretch hath put this in your head , Let heaven requite it with the ...
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Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
ambition art thou bear beauty blood bosom breath Busiris Cæsar cheek clouds Coriolanus Cowper's Task crown curse dare dead death deeds Doge of Venice dost doth dread dream Dryden's Duke of Guise earth Ev'n eyes fair Fair Penitent fear fool fortune friends gentle give grace grave grief Gustavus Vasa hand Hannah More's happy hate hath Havard's head heart heaven hell honour hour Ibid Jane Shore Joanna Baillie's king Lady Jane Grey live look lord Maturin's Bertram mercy Milton's Paradise Lost mind nature ne'er never noble o'er Otway's pale Paradise Regained passion peace Philotas pity poor Rowe's Sardanapalus Scanderbeg scorn shew sigh slave sleep smile soft sorrow soul speak spirit sweet Tamerlane tears tell thee thine things Thomson's Seasons-Spring thou art thou hast thousand thro tongue Venice Preserved virtue weep wind words wretched Young's Night Thoughts youth
Népszerű szakaszok
52. oldal - tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles And by opposing end them. To die, to sleep...
7. oldal - With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side ; His youthful hose, well sav'd, a world too wide For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness, and mere oblivion ; Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans every thing.
53. oldal - The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, The pangs of despis'd love, the law's delay, The insolence of office and the spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin?
238. oldal - Sleep, O gentle Sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down. And steep my senses in forgetfulness...
10. oldal - Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory ; But far beyond my depth ; my high-blown pride At length broke under me ; and now has left me, Weary, and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.
75. oldal - I could a tale unfold whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part And each particular hair to stand on end, Like quills upon the fretful porcupine : But this eternal blazon must not be To ears of flesh and blood.
46. oldal - Cowards die many times before their deaths ; 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 fear; Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come when it will come.
133. oldal - O now, for ever, Farewell the tranquil mind ! Farewell content ! Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars, That make ambition virtue ! O, farewell ! Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump, The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife, The royal banner ; and all quality. Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war ! And O, you mortal engines, whose rude throats The immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit, Farewell ! Othello's occupation's gone ! lago.
126. oldal - Yet could I bear that too ; well, very well : — But there, where I have garner'd up my heart, Where either I must live or bear no life, The fountain from the which my current runs, Or else dries up ; to be discarded thence ! Or keep it as a cistern for foul toads To knot and gender in ! Turn thy complexion there, Patience, thou young and rose-lipp'd cherubin, Ay, there, look grim as hell ! Des.
145. oldal - Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness ! This is the state of man ; to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him : The third day comes a frost, a killing frost ; And,— when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a ripening, — nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.