A dictionary of quotations from the British poets, by the author of The peerage and baronetage charts, &c |
Din interiorul cărții
Rezultatele 1 - 5 din 33
Pagina 12
I am about to weep ; but , thinking that We are a queen , ( or long have dream'd so , ) certain , The daughter of a king , my drops of tears I'll turn to sparks of fire . This strained passion doth you wrong , my Lord : Sweet Earl ...
I am about to weep ; but , thinking that We are a queen , ( or long have dream'd so , ) certain , The daughter of a king , my drops of tears I'll turn to sparks of fire . This strained passion doth you wrong , my Lord : Sweet Earl ...
Pagina 28
... speak no more : Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul ; And there I see such black , and grained spots , As will not leave their tinct . Give me another horse , --- bind up my wounds ,Have mercy , Jesu ! Soft ; I did but dream.
... speak no more : Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul ; And there I see such black , and grained spots , As will not leave their tinct . Give me another horse , --- bind up my wounds ,Have mercy , Jesu ! Soft ; I did but dream.
Pagina 29
Between the acting of a dreadful thing , And the first motion , all the interim is Like a phantasma , or a hideous dream : The genius , and the mortal instruments , Are then in council ; and the state of a man , Like to a little kingdom ...
Between the acting of a dreadful thing , And the first motion , all the interim is Like a phantasma , or a hideous dream : The genius , and the mortal instruments , Are then in council ; and the state of a man , Like to a little kingdom ...
Pagina 35
Poor wretches , that depend On greatness ' favor , dream as I have done ; Wake and find nothing . But yet I call you servile ministers , That have with two pernicious daughters join'd Your high engender'd battles , ' gainst a head So ...
Poor wretches , that depend On greatness ' favor , dream as I have done ; Wake and find nothing . But yet I call you servile ministers , That have with two pernicious daughters join'd Your high engender'd battles , ' gainst a head So ...
Pagina 44
No sleep And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends ! close up that deadly eye of thine , Unless it be while some tormenting dream Affrights thee with a hell of ugly devils ! Thou elvish - mark'd , abortive , rooting hog !
No sleep And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends ! close up that deadly eye of thine , Unless it be while some tormenting dream Affrights thee with a hell of ugly devils ! Thou elvish - mark'd , abortive , rooting hog !
Ce spun oamenii - Scrie o recenzie
Nu am găsit nicio recenzie în locurile obișnuite.
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Termeni și expresii frecvente
ambition arms bear beauty blood breath Byron's clouds Cowper's Task curse dark dead death deeds deep doth dread dream Dryden's earth eyes face fair fall fate fear feel fire fool fortune gentle give grace grave grief hand happy hast hath head hear heart heaven honour hope hour human Ibid Italy Joanna Baillie's king leave less light live look lord Milton's Paradise Lost mind morning nature never noble o'er once pain passion peace pleasure poor reason rest round Rowe's seems slave sleep smile soft soon sorrow soul speak spirit stand sweet tears tell thee thine things Thomson's thou thousand thro tongue true turn virtue wind wise wretched Young's Night Thoughts youth
Pasaje populare
Pagina 52 - 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...
Pagina 7 - 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.
Pagina 53 - 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?
Pagina 238 - 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...
Pagina 10 - 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.
Pagina 75 - 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.
Pagina 46 - 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.
Pagina 133 - 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.
Pagina 126 - 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.
Pagina 145 - 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.
Informații bibliografice
| Titlu | A dictionary of quotations from the British poets, by the author of The peerage and baronetage charts, &c |
| Autor | British poets |
| Publicată | 1824 |
| Exemplar original de la | Universitatea Oxford |
| Scanată la | 2 Mar 2007 |
| Exportă citatul | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |