The Poetical Works of William Shakespeare and Ben Jonson, Volym 1–2Houghton, Osgood, 1879 - 686 sidor |
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The Poetical Works of William Shakespeare and Ben Jonson: With a ..., Volym 2 William Shakespeare Obegränsad förhandsgranskning - 1879 |
The Poetical Works of William Shakespeare and Ben Jonson, Volym 1–2 William Shakespeare,Ben Jonson Obegränsad förhandsgranskning - 1879 |
Vanliga ord och fraser
Adonis bear beauty behold Ben Jonson Bishopton blood breast breath called cheeks Collatine daughter dead death delight doth dramas Earl epigram eyes face fair fair lords false fame fear fire flowers foul Francis Collins Gifford give grace grief Hamnet hand hath hear heart heaven Henry honour John Shakespeare Jonson king kiss lady light lips live look Lord love's Lucrece lust MALONE mind muse never night play poems poet poet's poor praise Priam proud Queen quoth RAPE OF LUCRECE Richard Burbage Shak Shake Shakespeare shalt shame sight sing song Sonnets sorrow soul Stratford sweet Tarquin tears tell theatre thee thine thing Thomas Thomas Lucy thou art thou hast thought thyself tongue true truth unto Venus and Adonis verse virtue weep Welcombe wife William William Shakespeare wilt words worth Yorkshire Tragedy youth
Populära avsnitt
Sida xxxi - Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine.
Sida 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...
Sida 269 - 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.
Sida 184 - Give warning to the world that I am fled From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell: Nay, if you read this line, remember not The hand that writ it; for I love you so, That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot, If thinking on me then should make you woe.
Sida 277 - 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...
Sida 180 - When I have seen the hungry ocean gain Advantage on the kingdom of the shore, And the firm soil win of the watery main, Increasing store with loss, and loss with store ; When I have seen such interchange of state, Or state itself confounded to decay, Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate — That Time will come and take my Love away : — This thought is as a death, which cannot choose But weep to have that which it fears to lose.
Sida 288 - T^EAR no more the heat o' the sun -*- Nor the furious winter's rages; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages : Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Fear no more the frown o' the great, Thou art past the tyrant's stroke; Care no more to clothe, and eat; To thee the reed is as the oak: The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this, and come to dust. Fear no more the...
Sida xxxi - A lily of a day Is fairer far, in May, Although it fall and die that night; It was the plant and flower of light. In small proportions we just beauties see; And in short measures life may perfect be.
Sida 217 - Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds With thy sweet fingers, when thou gently swayst The wiry concord that mine ear confounds, Do I envy those jacks, that nimble leap To kiss the tender inward of thy hand, Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest reap, At the wood's boldness by thee blushing stand! To be so tickled, they would change their state And situation with those dancing chips, O'er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait, Making dead wood more bless'd than living lips. Since saucy...
Sida 41 - Lo, here the gentle lark, weary of rest, From his moist cabinet mounts up on high, And wakes the morning, from whose silver breast The sun ariseth in his majesty ; Who doth the world so gloriously behold, That cedar-tops and hills seem burnish'd gold.