The Masque of Psyche: Or, The Seven Ages of the Soul

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S. French, 1915 - 86 страници

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Страница 8 - Let me play the lion too : I will roar, that I will do any man's heart good to hear me; I will roar, that I will make the duke say, ' Let him roar again, let him roar again.
Страница 78 - Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits, and Are melted into air, into thin air: And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff As dreams are made on ; and our little life Is rounded with a sleep.
Страница 35 - Grecian club; yet he did what he could to die before, and he is one of the patterns of love. Leander, he would have lived many a fair year, though Hero had turned nun, if it had not been for a hot midsummer night; for, good youth, he went but forth to wash him in the Hellespont and being taken with the cramp was drowned; and the foolish chroniclers of that age found it was — Hero of Sestos. But these are all lies. Men have died from time to time and worms have eaten them. but not for love.
Страница 20 - O mistress mine, where are you roaming? O stay and hear ; your true love's coming, That can sing both high and low : Trip no further, pretty sweeting ; Journeys end in lovers meeting, Every wise man's son doth know. What is love ? 'tis not hereafter; Present mirth hath present laughter ; What's to come is still unsure : In delay there lies no plenty ; Then come kiss...
Страница 74 - The harmony of their tongues hath into bondage Brought my too diligent ear: for several virtues Have I liked several women ; never any With so full soul, but some defect in her Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed,3 And put it to the foil : But you, O you, So perfect, and so peerless, are created Of every creature's best.
Страница 79 - And mine shall. Hast thou, which art but air, a touch, a feeling Of their afflictions, and shall not myself, One of their kind, that relish all as sharply Passion* as they, be kindlier mov'd than thou art ? Though with their high wrongs I am struck to the quick.
Страница 73 - There be some sports are painful , and their labour Delight in them sets off: some kinds of baseness Are nobly undergone ; and most poor matters Point to rich ends. This my mean task Would be as heavy to me, as odious; but The mistress which I serve quickens what 's dead , And makes my labours pleasures : O ! she is Ten times more gentle than her father 's crabbed ; And he 's composed of harshness.

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