Cursory Remarks on Tragedy, on Shakespeare and on Certain French and Italian Poets, Principally Tragedians...

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W. Owen, 1774 - 242 страници
 

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Страница 63 - I have given suck, and know How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me: I would, while it was smiling in my face, Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums, And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you Have done to this.
Страница 62 - Than wishest should be undone. Hie thee hither, That I may pour my spirits in thine ear; And chastise with the valour of my tongue All that impedes thee from the golden round, Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem To have thee crown'd withal.
Страница 10 - Spit, fire! spout, rain! Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire, are my daughters: I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness; I never gave you kingdom, call'd you children, You owe me no subscription: then let fall Your horrible pleasure; here I stand, your slave, A poor, infirm, weak, and despis'd old man.
Страница 79 - tis not to me she speaks. Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven Having some business, do entreat her eyes To twinkle in their spheres till they return. What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
Страница 2 - The objection arising from the impossibility of passing the first hour at Alexandria and the next at Rome supposes that, when the play opens, the spectator really imagines himself at Alexandria, and believes that his walk to the theatre has been a voyage to Egypt, and that he lives in the days of Antony and Cleopatra. Surely he that imagines this may imagine more.
Страница 48 - tis his ; and has been flave to tho-ufands; But he, that filches from me my good name, Robs me of That, which not enriches him, And makes me poor indeed.
Страница 81 - Give me my Romeo: and when he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun.
Страница 215 - Sirius burns the thirfty plains, While in thy heart eternal winter reigns. Where ftray ye, Mufes, in what lawn or grove, While your Alexis pines in hopelefs love ? In thofe fair fields where facred Ifis glides, Or elfe where Cam his winding vales divides...
Страница 190 - Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse The curtain'd sleep ; now witchcraft celebrates Pale Hecate's offerings ; and wither'd murder, Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf, Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace, With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design Moves like a ghost.
Страница 81 - Romeo; come, thou day in night; For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night Whiter than new Inow on a raven's back. Come, gentle night; come, loving, black-brow'd night...

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