Shakespeare-Lexicon: A Complete Dictionary of All the English Words, Phrases and Constructions in the Works of the Poet, Volumen1

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G. Reimer, 1902

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Página 227 - For when my outward action doth demonstrate The native act and figure of my heart In compliment extern, 'tis not long after But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve For daws to peck at : I am not what I am.
Página 363 - They bear the mandate ; they must sweep my way, And marshal me to knavery. Let it work ; For 'tis the sport to have the engineer Hoist with his own petar : and 't shall go hard But I will delve one yard below their mines, And blow them at the moon : O, 'tis most sweet, When in one line two crafts directly meet.
Página 35 - I'll look up ; My fault is past. But O, what form of prayer Can serve my turn ?
Página 85 - So is it not with me as with that Muse, Stirred by a painted beauty to his verse, Who heaven itself for ornament doth use, And every fair with his fair doth rehearse, Making a couplement of proud compare With sun and moon, with earth and sea's rich gems; With April's first-born flowers and all things rare That heaven's air in this huge rondure hems...
Página 180 - They say, miracles are past; and we -have our philosophical persons, to make modern and familiar things, supernatural and causeless. Hence is it, that we make trifles of terrors; ensconcing ourselves into seeming knowledge, when we should submit ourselves to an unknown fear.
Página 276 - Makes mouths at the invisible event, Exposing what is mortal and unsure To all that fortune, death, and danger dare, Even for an egg-shell.
Página 249 - No, like a bank, for love to lie and play on; Not like a corse: or if, — not to be buried, But quick, and in mine arms. Come, take your flowers : Methinks, I play as I have seen them do In Whitsun' pastorals: sure, this robe of mine Does change my disposition.
Página 316 - Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand, Of life, of crown, of queen, at once dispatch'd...
Página 63 - Our doubts are traitors, And make us lose the good we oft might win, By fearing to attempt.
Página 381 - The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction Robs the vast sea: the moon's an arrant thief, And her pale fire she snatches from the sun: The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves The moon into salt tears: the earth's a thief, That feeds and breeds by a composture stolen From general excrement: each thing's a thief; The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power Have uncheck'd theft.

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