A Midsommer Nights Dreame, Volume 10

Voorkant
Lippincott, 1895 - 357 pagina's
 

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Pagina 82 - Since once I sat upon a promontory, And heard a mermaid on a dolphin's back Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath. That the rude sea grew civil at her song, And certain stars shot madly from their spheres, To hear the sea-maid's music.
Pagina 207 - The best in this kind are but shadows ; and the worst are no worse, if imagination amend them.
Pagina 307 - But all the story of the night told over, And all their minds transfigured so together, More witnesseth than fancy's images, And grows to something of great constancy ; But, howsoever, strange and admirable.
Pagina 92 - Forty flags with their silver stars, Forty flags with their crimson bars, Flapped in the morning wind: the sun Of noon looked down, and saw not one.
Pagina 317 - That hangs his head, and a' that ? The coward-slave, we pass him by, We dare be poor for a' that ! For a' that, and a' that, Our toils obscure, and a' that ; The rank is but the guinea stamp ; The man's the gowd for a
Pagina 297 - Dream, which I had never seen before, nor shall ever again, for it is the most insipid ridiculous play that ever I saw in my life.
Pagina 143 - O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou, That, notwithstanding thy capacity Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there, Of what validity and pitch soe'er, But falls into abatement and low price, Even in a minute; so full of shapes is fancy, That it alone is high fantastical.
Pagina 12 - And Jacob said unto Pharaoh, The days of the years of my pilgrimage are an hundred and thirty years: few and evil have the days of the years of my life been, and have not attained unto the days of the years of the life of my fathers in the days of their pilgrimage.
Pagina 253 - Over hill, over dale, Thorough bush, thorough brier, Over park, over pale, Thorough flood, thorough fire, I do wander every where, Swifter than the moon's sphere; And I serve the fairy queen, To dew her orbs upon the green. The cowslips tall her pensioners be...
Pagina 291 - When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, His shadowy flail hath thresh'd the corn That ten day-labourers could not end; Then lies him down the lubber fiend, And, stretch'd out all the chimney's length, Basks at the fire his hairy strength; And crop-full out of doors he flings, Ere the first cock his matin rings.