A dictionary of quotations from the British poets, by the author of The peerage and baronetage charts, &c1824 |
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Pagina 37
... Peace ; thou know'st not gold's effect : Tell me her father's name , and ' tis enough ; For I will board her , though she chides as loud As thunder , when the clouds in autumn crack . 1 Say , that she rail ; Why , then COURTSHIP . 37.
... Peace ; thou know'st not gold's effect : Tell me her father's name , and ' tis enough ; For I will board her , though she chides as loud As thunder , when the clouds in autumn crack . 1 Say , that she rail ; Why , then COURTSHIP . 37.
Pagina 38
... tell her plain , She sings as sweetly as a nightingale : Say , that she frown : I'll say , she looks as clear As morning roses newly wash'd with dew : Say , she be mute , and will not speak a word ; Then I'll commend her volubility ...
... tell her plain , She sings as sweetly as a nightingale : Say , that she frown : I'll say , she looks as clear As morning roses newly wash'd with dew : Say , she be mute , and will not speak a word ; Then I'll commend her volubility ...
Pagina 50
... tell thee , churlish priest , A minist'ring angel shall my sister be , When thou liest howling . Here lurks no treason , here no envy swells , Here grow no damned grudges ; here , are no storms , No noise , but silence and eternal sleep ...
... tell thee , churlish priest , A minist'ring angel shall my sister be , When thou liest howling . Here lurks no treason , here no envy swells , Here grow no damned grudges ; here , are no storms , No noise , but silence and eternal sleep ...
Pagina 51
... tell me who is victor , York , or Warwick ? Why ask I that ? my mangled body shows , My blood , my want of strength , my sick heart shows That I must yield my body to the earth , And by my fall , the conquest to my foe . Thus yields the ...
... tell me who is victor , York , or Warwick ? Why ask I that ? my mangled body shows , My blood , my want of strength , my sick heart shows That I must yield my body to the earth , And by my fall , the conquest to my foe . Thus yields the ...
Pagina 60
... tell them , that I will not come to - day ; Cannot , is false ; and that I dare not , falser ; I will not come to - day : tell them so , Decius . I'll speak to it , though hell itself should gape , And bid me hold my peace . I have ...
... tell them , that I will not come to - day ; Cannot , is false ; and that I dare not , falser ; I will not come to - day : tell them so , Decius . I'll speak to it , though hell itself should gape , And bid me hold my peace . I have ...
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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.