Guy's new speaker, selections of poetry and prose from the best writers in the English languageJoseph Guy 1852 |
Dentro del libro
Resultados 1-5 de 51
Página 6
... honour's at the stake . How stand I then , That have a father kill'd , a mother stain'd , Excitements of my reason , and my blood , And let all sleep ? while , to my shame , I see The imminent death of twenty thousand men , That , for a ...
... honour's at the stake . How stand I then , That have a father kill'd , a mother stain'd , Excitements of my reason , and my blood , And let all sleep ? while , to my shame , I see The imminent death of twenty thousand men , That , for a ...
Página 11
... honour her ! If she must teem , Create her child of spleen ; that it may live , And be a thwart disnatured torment to her ! Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth ; With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks ; Turn all her ...
... honour her ! If she must teem , Create her child of spleen ; that it may live , And be a thwart disnatured torment to her ! Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth ; With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks ; Turn all her ...
Página 29
... Honour pricks me on . Yea , but how if honour prick me off when I come on ? how then ? Can honour set to a leg ? No. Or an arm ? No. Or take away the grief of a wound ? No. Honour hath no skill in surgery , then ? No. What is honour ? A ...
... Honour pricks me on . Yea , but how if honour prick me off when I come on ? how then ? Can honour set to a leg ? No. Or an arm ? No. Or take away the grief of a wound ? No. Honour hath no skill in surgery , then ? No. What is honour ? A ...
Página 45
... your retainers ; and your words , Domestics to you , serve your will , as ' t please Yourself pronounce their office . I must tell you , You tender more your person's honour , than Your high SELECTIONS FROM SHAKSPERE . 45.
... your retainers ; and your words , Domestics to you , serve your will , as ' t please Yourself pronounce their office . I must tell you , You tender more your person's honour , than Your high SELECTIONS FROM SHAKSPERE . 45.
Página 46
Joseph Guy. You tender more your person's honour , than Your high profession spiritual : That again I do refuse you for my judge ; and here , Before you all , appeal unto the pope , To bring my whole cause ' fore his holiness , And to be ...
Joseph Guy. You tender more your person's honour , than Your high profession spiritual : That again I do refuse you for my judge ; and here , Before you all , appeal unto the pope , To bring my whole cause ' fore his holiness , And to be ...
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Otras ediciones - Ver todas
Guy's New Speaker, Selections of Poetry and Prose from the Best Writers in ... Joseph Guy Sin vista previa disponible - 2016 |
Guy's New Speaker, Selections of Poetry and Prose from the Best Writers in ... Sin vista previa disponible - 2020 |
Términos y frases comunes
Bassora beauty behold blood breath bright brittle glory Cæsar charms clouds Cold fearful courser dead dear death delight dost doth drachmas dread earth elocution eyes face fair FALSTAFF fame father fear fire flowers fool gentle give glory grace grave grief hand happy hath hear heard heart heaven Hecat's Hecuba honour hope kind king labour light live look lord Lucilius Lycidas lyre Lysippus mind Muse nature ne'er never night noble numbers nymph o'er once OTHELLO pain passions peace Philippi pleased pleasure poor praise Priam pride prince Proteus Pyrrhus Rasselas rich round scene shade smile soft song sorrow soul sound speak spirit stream sweet tears tell tempest thee thine thing thou hast thought tongue trembling virtue voice Warren Hastings weep wild wind wings wonder younker youth
Pasajes populares
Página 60 - How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank ! Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears ; soft stillness, and the night, Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold.
Página 356 - And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed, The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, And swiftly forming in the ranks of war; And the deep thunder peal on peal afar; And near, the beat of the alarming drum Roused up the soldier ere the morning star; While thronged the citizens with terror dumb, Or whispering, with white lips - 'The foe! they come! they come!
Página 101 - Alpheus, the dread voice is past That shrunk thy streams; return, Sicilian Muse, And call the vales, and bid them hither cast Their bells and flowerets of a thousand hues. Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers use Of shades, and wanton winds, and gushing brooks, On whose fresh lap the swart star sparely looks; Throw hither all your quaint enamelled eyes That on the green turf suck the honeyed showers, And purple all the ground with vernal flowers.
Página 298 - To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way. Beside the bed where parting life was laid. And sorrow, guilt, and pain, by turns dismayed, The reverend champion stood. At his control Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul ; Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raise, And his last faltering accents whispered praise.
Página iv - 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.
Página 6 - To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful, and ridiculous excess.
Página 297 - Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, And still where many a garden flower grows wild ; There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, The village preacher's modest mansion rose. A man he was to all the country dear, And passing rich with forty pounds a year; Remote from towns he ran his godly race, Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change, his place.
Página 102 - Through the dear might of Him that walk'd the waves; Where, other groves and other streams along, With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves, And hears the unexpressive nuptial song, In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love. There entertain him all the Saints above, In solemn troops and sweet societies, That sing, and singing in their glory move, And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes.