The Poetical Works of William ShakespeareLittle, Brown, 1866 - 288 страници |
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Страница 9
... thine , 66 ( Though mine be not so fair , yet are they red , ) " The kiss shall be thine own as well as mine : - " What seest thou in the ground ? hold up thy head ; " Look in mine eyeballs , there thy beauty lies OF SHAKESPEARE . 9.
... thine , 66 ( Though mine be not so fair , yet are they red , ) " The kiss shall be thine own as well as mine : - " What seest thou in the ground ? hold up thy head ; " Look in mine eyeballs , there thy beauty lies OF SHAKESPEARE . 9.
Страница 11
... thine own heart to thine own face affected ? " Can thy right hand seize love upon thy left ? " Then woo thyself , be of thyself rejected , " Steal thine own freedom , and complain on theft . " Narcissus , so , himself himself forsook ...
... thine own heart to thine own face affected ? " Can thy right hand seize love upon thy left ? " Then woo thyself , be of thyself rejected , " Steal thine own freedom , and complain on theft . " Narcissus , so , himself himself forsook ...
Страница 12
... thine may live , when thou thyself art dead ; " And so in spite of death thou dost survive , " In that thy likeness still is left alive . " By this , the love - sick queen began to sweat , For , where they lay , the shadow had forsook ...
... thine may live , when thou thyself art dead ; " And so in spite of death thou dost survive , " In that thy likeness still is left alive . " By this , the love - sick queen began to sweat , For , where they lay , the shadow had forsook ...
Страница 13
... Thine eye darts forth the fire that burneth me : " And were I not immortal , life were done , " Between this heavenly and earthly sun . " Art thou obdurate , flinty , hard as steel , " Nay , more than flint , for stone at rain relenteth ...
... Thine eye darts forth the fire that burneth me : " And were I not immortal , life were done , " Between this heavenly and earthly sun . " Art thou obdurate , flinty , hard as steel , " Nay , more than flint , for stone at rain relenteth ...
Страница 15
... thine own law forlorn , To love a cheek that smiles at thee in scorn ! Now which way shall she turn ? what shall she say ? Her words are done , her woes the more increasing , The time is spent , her object will away , And from her ...
... thine own law forlorn , To love a cheek that smiles at thee in scorn ! Now which way shall she turn ? what shall she say ? Her words are done , her woes the more increasing , The time is spent , her object will away , And from her ...
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Adonis bear beauty beauty's behold Ben Jonson bequeath blood breast breath cheeks Collatine daughter dead dear death delight desire doth dramas English Dram face fair false fault fear fire flower foul Francis Collins gentle give grace grief Hamnet hand hast hate hath hear heart heaven honour John Shakespeare Jonson king kiss lips live looks Lord love's Lucrece lust MALONE mind moan never night pale pity play poet poison'd poor praise proud queen quoth RAPE OF LUCRECE Richard Barnefield Richard Burbage Shak Shake Shakespeare shame sighs sight sing Sonnets sorrow soul Stratford Susanna Hall sweet Tarquin tears theatre thee thine eye thing Thomas Lucy thou art thou dost thou wilt thought thyself time's tongue true truth unto Venus and Adonis verse weep Welcombe William William Shakespeare wind WITCH words wound Yorkshire Tragedy youth
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Страница 153 - Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date...
Страница 153 - But thy eternal summer shall not fade Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest ; Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou growest : So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, So long lives this and this gives life to thee.
Страница 265 - Where the bee sucks, there suck I ; In a cowslip's bell I lie : There I couch*. When owls do cry, '} \ On the bat's back I do fly, After summer, merrily : Merrily, merrily, shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
Страница 273 - Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow And coughing drowns the parson's saw And birds sit brooding in the snow And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit; Tu-who...
Страница 226 - Two loves I have, of comfort and despair, Which like two spirits do suggest me still : The better angel is a man right fair, The worser spirit a woman colour'd ill. To win me soon to hell, my female evil Tempteth my better angel from my side, And would corrupt my saint to be a devil, Wooing his purity with her foul pride.
Страница 275 - Blow, blow, thou winter wind, Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude ; Thy tooth is not so keen, Because thou art not seen, Although thy breath be rude.
Страница 47 - Which after him she darts, as one on shore Gazing upon a late-embarked friend, Till the wild waves will have him seen no more, Whose ridges with the meeting clouds contend : So did the merciless and pitchy night Fold in the object that did feed her sight.
Страница 160 - Desiring this man's art and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least ; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, and then my state, Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate ; For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
Страница 274 - Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart or in the head ? How begot, how nourished? Reply, reply. It is engender'd in the eyes, With gazing fed ; and fancy dies In the cradle where it lies. Let us all ring fancy's knell : I'll begin it, — Ding, dong, bell ALL.
Страница 222 - Why of eyes' falsehood hast thou forged hooks, Whereto the judgment of my heart is tied? Why should my heart think that a several plot Which my heart knows the wide world's common place? Or mine eyes seeing this, say this is not, To put fair truth upon so foul a face ? In things right true my heart and eyes have err'd, And to this false plague are they now transferr'd. CXXXVIII. When my love swears that she is made of truth I do believe her, though I know she lies, That she might think me some untutor'd...