The Problem of Style

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H. Milford, Oxford University Press, 1925 - 148 pagini

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Pagina 36 - 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.
Pagina 13 - My desolation does begin to make A better life : Tis paltry to be Caesar; Not being fortune, he's but fortune's knave, A minister of her will ; And it is great To do that thing that ends all other deeds ; Which shackles accidents, and bolts up change; Which sleeps, and never palates more the dung, The beggar's nurse and Caesar's.
Pagina 84 - Be not afeard ; the isle is full of noises, Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight, and hurt not. Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments Will hum about mine ears ; and sometime voices, That, if I then had wak'd after long sleep, Will make me sleep again : and then, in dreaming, The clouds methought would open, and show riches Ready to drop upon me ; that, when I wak'd, I cried to dream again.
Pagina 119 - Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, A great-siz'd monster of ingratitudes. Those scraps are good deeds past, which are devour'd As fast as they are made, forgot as soon As done.
Pagina 58 - Dis's waggon! daffodils That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses, That die unmarried, ere they can behold Bright Phoebus in his strength...
Pagina 28 - For our continued influxes of feeling are modified and directed by our thoughts, which are indeed the representatives of all our past feelings; and as by contemplating the relation of these general representatives to each other, we discover what is really important to men, so by the repetition and continuance of this act...
Pagina 106 - The old man still stood talking by my side ; But now his voice to me was like a stream Scarce heard ; nor word from word could I divide ; And the whole body of the man did seem Like one whom I had met with in a dream; Or like a man from some far region sent, To give me human strength by apt admonishment.
Pagina 37 - With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate Of life at once untie; poor venomous fool, Be angry, and dispatch.
Pagina 121 - Under a star-ypointing pyramid? Dear son of memory, great heir of fame, What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name ? Thou in our wonder and astonishment Hast built thyself a livelong monument.
Pagina 36 - I am fire, and air; my other elements I give to baser life. So; have you done? Come then, and take the last warmth of my lips. Farewell, kind Charmian; Iras, long farewell. [Kisses them. IRAS falls and dies. Have I the aspic in my lips? Dost fall? If thou and nature can so gently part, The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch, Which hurts, and is desir'd.

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