 | Dominic Barthel - 1927 - 790 pagini
...reflecting gems, That woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep, And mock'd the dead bones that lay scatter'd by. O ! then began the tempest to my soul ! 1 pass'd,...Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick, Who cried aloud, — "What scourge for perjury Can this dark monarchy afford false Clarence ?" And so he... | |
 | Henry Arthur Treble, George Henry Vallins - 1927 - 244 pagini
...agony? Clar. O, no, my dream was lengthen'd after life ; O, then began the tempest to my soul, Who pass'd, methought, the melancholy flood, With that...Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick; Who cried aloud, ' What scourge for perjury Can this dark monarchy afford false Clarence ? ' And so he... | |
 | Lucius Annaeus Seneca - 1927 - 298 pagini
...from Clarence's Dream we see an immense advance over Locrine in the use of infernal machinery : ' I pass'd, methought, the melancholy flood, With that...Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick ; Who cried aloud, " What scourge for perjury Can this dark monarchy afford false Clarence ? " ' l The *... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1927 - 226 pagini
...O! then began the tempest to my soul. 44 1 pass'd, methought, the melancholy flood, With that sour ferryman which poets write of. Unto the kingdom of...night. The first that there did greet my stranger soul 48 Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick; Who spake aloud, 'What scourge for perjury Can this... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1957 - 226 pagini
[ Ne pare rău, conținutul acestei pagini este restricționat ] | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1930 - 994 pagini
[ Ne pare rău, conținutul acestei pagini este restricționat ] | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1931 - 1206 pagini
[ Ne pare rău, conținutul acestei pagini este restricționat ] | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1932 - 1270 pagini
[ Ne pare rău, conținutul acestei pagini este restricționat ] | |
 | Thomas Stearns Eliot - 1932 - 462 pagini
[ Ne pare rău, conținutul acestei pagini este restricționat ] | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1935 - 210 pagini
[ Ne pare rău, conținutul acestei pagini este restricționat ] | |
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Who pass'd, methought, the melancholy flood, With that grim ferryman which poets write of, Unto the kingdom of perpetual night. The first that there did greet my stranger soul, Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick; Who cried aloud, ' What scourge... 
