A dictionary of quotations from the British poets, by the author of The peerage and baronetage charts, &c1824 |
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Pagina 9
... face : But when he once attains the upmost round , He then unto the ladder turns his back , Looks in the clouds , scorning the base degrees By which he did ascend . I have no spur To prick the sides of my intent , but only Vaulting ...
... face : But when he once attains the upmost round , He then unto the ladder turns his back , Looks in the clouds , scorning the base degrees By which he did ascend . I have no spur To prick the sides of my intent , but only Vaulting ...
Pagina 21
... face the matter out . I know them , yea , And what they weigh , even to the utmost scruple : Scambling , out - facing , fashion - mong'ring boys , That lie , and cog , and flout , deprave and slander , Go antickly , and show outward ...
... face the matter out . I know them , yea , And what they weigh , even to the utmost scruple : Scambling , out - facing , fashion - mong'ring boys , That lie , and cog , and flout , deprave and slander , Go antickly , and show outward ...
Pagina 24
... school boy , with his satchel , And shining morning face , creeping like snail Unwillingly to school . CHILDREN . Lady , you are the cruel'st she alive Ceremony, see Formality Challenge Charity Child-bearing Childhood Children 4.
... school boy , with his satchel , And shining morning face , creeping like snail Unwillingly to school . CHILDREN . Lady , you are the cruel'st she alive Ceremony, see Formality Challenge Charity Child-bearing Childhood Children 4.
Pagina 25
... face ; These eyes , these brows , were moulded out of his : This little abstract doth contain that large , Which dy'd in Geffrey : and the hand of time Shall draw this brief into as huge a volume . Behold , my Lords , Although the print ...
... face ; These eyes , these brows , were moulded out of his : This little abstract doth contain that large , Which dy'd in Geffrey : and the hand of time Shall draw this brief into as huge a volume . Behold , my Lords , Although the print ...
Pagina 38
... face ? Tweaks me by the nose ? gives me the lie i ' the throat , As deep as to the lungs ? Who does me this ? Ha ! Why I should take it for it cannot be , But I am pigeon - liver'd , and lack gall To make oppression bitter ; or , ere ...
... face ? Tweaks me by the nose ? gives me the lie i ' the throat , As deep as to the lungs ? Who does me this ? Ha ! Why I should take it for it cannot be , But I am pigeon - liver'd , and lack gall To make oppression bitter ; or , ere ...
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Termeni și expresii frecvente
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
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.