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appear arms beautiful become better bring called carried cause character child close dark dear death earth Edward Emilia enter eyes face fair father fear feel flowers follow give grave ground hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven honour hope hour human interest Italy kind king leave less light live look means meet mind morning mother nature never night noble object observe once passage passed perhaps play poor present Prince reader reason remain replied rest Richard rose scene seemed seen side smile society soon sorrow soul sound speak Spenton spirit stand sweet tears tell thee things thou thought true turn voice walk Willie wish young
Страница 192 - I loved Ophelia: forty thousand brothers Could not with all their quantity of love, Make up my sum.
Страница 299 - The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast, — Lady M. What do you mean? Macb. Still it cried "Sleep no more!" to all the house: "Glamis hath murder'd sleep, and therefore Cawdor Shall sleep no more: Macbeth shall sleep no more.
Страница 252 - Lay her i' the earth : And from her fair and unpolluted flesh May violets spring ! I tell thee churlish priest, A ministering angel shall my sister be, When thou liest howling.
Страница 301 - Avaunt ! and quit my sight ! let the earth hide thee ! Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold ; Thou hast no speculation in those eyes Which thou dost glare with.
Страница 480 - And then it started, like a guilty thing Upon a fearful summons. I have heard The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn, Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat Awake the god of day; and at his warning. Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air, The extravagant and erring spirit hies To his confine; and of the truth herein This present object made probation.
Страница 297 - Glamis thou art, and Cawdor, and shalt be What thou art promised. Yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o' the milk of human kindness To catch the nearest way. Thou wouldst be great, Art not without ambition, but without The illness should attend it. What thou wouldst highly That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false, And yet wouldst wrongly win.
Страница 191 - Remember thee! Yea, from the table of my memory I'll wipe away all trivial fond records, All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past, That youth and observation copied there...
Страница 230 - tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now ; if it be not now, yet it will come : the readiness is all : Since no man, of aught he leaves, knows, what is't to leave betimes ?