The Poetical Works of William Shakspeare and the Earl of SurreyJames Nichol, 1862 - 316 pagina's |
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Pagina 8
... quoth Venus , young , and so unkind ! What bare excuses mak'st thou to begone ! I'll sigh celestial breath , whose gentle wind Shall cool the heat of this descending sun ; I'll make a shadow for thee of my hairs ; If they burn too , I ...
... quoth Venus , young , and so unkind ! What bare excuses mak'st thou to begone ! I'll sigh celestial breath , whose gentle wind Shall cool the heat of this descending sun ; I'll make a shadow for thee of my hairs ; If they burn too , I ...
Pagina 16
... quoth he , ' nor will not know it , Unless it be a boar , and then I chase it ; " " Tis much to borrow , and I will not owe it ; My love to love is love but to disgrace it ; For I have heard it is a life in death , That laughs , and ...
... quoth he , ' nor will not know it , Unless it be a boar , and then I chase it ; " " Tis much to borrow , and I will not owe it ; My love to love is love but to disgrace it ; For I have heard it is a life in death , That laughs , and ...
Pagina 17
... quoth she , ' hast thou a tongue ? Oh would thou hadst not , or I had no hearing ! Thy mermaid's1 voice hath done me double wrong ; I had my load before , now press'd with bearing : Melodious discord , heavenly tune harsh sounding ...
... quoth she , ' hast thou a tongue ? Oh would thou hadst not , or I had no hearing ! Thy mermaid's1 voice hath done me double wrong ; I had my load before , now press'd with bearing : Melodious discord , heavenly tune harsh sounding ...
Pagina 19
... quoth she - ' in earth or heaven , Or in the ocean drench'd , or in the fire ? What hour is this ? or morn or weary even ? 6 Do I delight to die , or life desire ? But now I lived , and life was death's annoy ; But now I died , and ...
... quoth she - ' in earth or heaven , Or in the ocean drench'd , or in the fire ? What hour is this ? or morn or weary even ? 6 Do I delight to die , or life desire ? But now I lived , and life was death's annoy ; But now I died , and ...
Pagina 20
... quoth he , if any love you owe me , Measure my strangeness1 with my unripe years ; Before I know myself , seek not to know me ; No fisher but the ungrown fry forbears : The mellow plum doth fall , the green sticks fast , Or being early ...
... quoth he , if any love you owe me , Measure my strangeness1 with my unripe years ; Before I know myself , seek not to know me ; No fisher but the ungrown fry forbears : The mellow plum doth fall , the green sticks fast , Or being early ...
Veelvoorkomende woorden en zinsdelen
Adonis art thou bear beauty beauty's behold birds blood breast breath burn careful song cheeks Collatine dead dear death delight desire doth dread Earl EARL OF SURREY earth face fair false fault fear fire flame flower foul gentle give grace grief hand hate hath hear heart heaven Henry VIII honour king kiss lady light lips live look Lord love's LOVER Lucrece lust mind never night pain pale pity plain pleasure poet poison'd poor praise Priam proud quoth rage Rape of Lucrece Shakspeare Shakspeare's shalt shame sighs sight sleep Sonnets sorrow soul Stratford Surrey Surrey's Susanna Hall sweet Tarquin tears tender thee things thou art thou hast thought thyself tongue travail true truth unto Venus and Adonis weary web of trust weep wilt wind woful wound youth
Populaire passages
Pagina 118 - 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.
Pagina 173 - And yet by heaven I think my love as rare As any she belied with false compare.
Pagina 115 - And sable curls all silver'd o'er with white, When lofty trees I see barren of leaves Which erst from heat did canopy the herd, And summer's green all girded up in sheaves Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard, Then of thy beauty do I question make, That thou among the wastes of time must go, Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake And die as fast as they see others grow ; And nothing 'gainst Time's scythe can make defence Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.
Pagina 125 - I'll read, his for his love." XXXIII Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy; Anon permit the basest clouds to ride With ugly rack on his celestial face And from the forlorn world his visage hide, Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace.
Pagina 31 - Lo, here the gentle lark, weary of rest, From his moist cabinet mounts up on high, And wakes the morning, from whose silver breast The sun ariseth in his majesty; Who doth the world so gloriously behold, That cedar-tops and hills seem burnish'd gold.
Pagina 172 - In the old age black was not counted fair, Or if it were, it bore not beauty's name; But now is black beauty's successive heir, And beauty slander'd with a bastard shame: For since each hand hath put on nature's power, Fairing the foul with art's false borrow'd face, Sweet beauty hath no name, no holy bower, But is profaned, if not lives in disgrace. Therefore my mistress...
Pagina 157 - Like widow'd wombs after their lords' decease: Yet this abundant issue seem'd to me But hope of orphans, and unfather'd fruit; For summer and his pleasures wait on thee, And, thou away, the very birds are mute: Or, if they sing, 'tis with so dull a cheer, That leaves look pale, dreading the winter's near.
Pagina 138 - Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crown'd, Crooked eclipses 'gainst his glory fight, And Time, that gave, doth now his gift confound. Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth, And delves the parallels in beauty's brow ; Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth, And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow.
Pagina 136 - Not marble, nor the gilded monuments Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme ; But you shall shine more bright in these contents Than unswept stone, besmear'd with sluttish time. When wasteful war shall statues overturn, And broils root out the work of masonry, Nor Mars his sword nor war's quick fire shall burn The living record of your memory.
Pagina 124 - And moan the expense of many a vanish'd sight : Then can I grieve at grievances foregone, And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan, Which I new pay as if not paid before. But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, All losses are restored and sorrows end.