Guy's new speaker, selections of poetry and prose from the best writers in the English languageJoseph Guy 1852 |
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Стр. 1
... heavily with my disposition , that this goodly frame , the earth , seems to me a sterile promontory ; this B most excellent canopy , the air , look you , SELECTIONS FROM SHAKSPERE Hamlet SELECTIONS FROM SHAKSPERE Hamlet Page.
... heavily with my disposition , that this goodly frame , the earth , seems to me a sterile promontory ; this B most excellent canopy , the air , look you , SELECTIONS FROM SHAKSPERE Hamlet SELECTIONS FROM SHAKSPERE Hamlet Page.
Стр. 2
Joseph Guy. most excellent canopy , the air , look you , this brave o'erhanging firmament , this majestical roof fretted with golden fire , -why , it appears no other thing to me , than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours . What ...
Joseph Guy. most excellent canopy , the air , look you , this brave o'erhanging firmament , this majestical roof fretted with golden fire , -why , it appears no other thing to me , than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours . What ...
Стр. 4
... . Give him heedful note : For I mine eyes will rivet to his face ; And , after , we will both our judgments join To censure of his seeming . HAMLET'S PASSIONATE ADDRESS TO HIS MOTHER . Look here , 4 GUY'S NEW SPEAKER .
... . Give him heedful note : For I mine eyes will rivet to his face ; And , after , we will both our judgments join To censure of his seeming . HAMLET'S PASSIONATE ADDRESS TO HIS MOTHER . Look here , 4 GUY'S NEW SPEAKER .
Стр. 5
... Look you now , what follows : Here is your husband ; like a mildew'd ear , Blasting his wholesome brother . Have you eyes ? Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed , And batten on this moor ? Ha ! have you eyes ? You cannot call ...
... Look you now , what follows : Here is your husband ; like a mildew'd ear , Blasting his wholesome brother . Have you eyes ? Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed , And batten on this moor ? Ha ! have you eyes ? You cannot call ...
Стр. 8
... , Shall ne'er look back , ne'er ebb to humble love , Till that a capable and wide revenge Swallow them up . - Now , by yond ' marble heaven , In the due reverence of a sacred vow I here 8 GUY'S NEW SPEAKER . Othello Othello.
... , Shall ne'er look back , ne'er ebb to humble love , Till that a capable and wide revenge Swallow them up . - Now , by yond ' marble heaven , In the due reverence of a sacred vow I here 8 GUY'S NEW SPEAKER . Othello Othello.
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Другие издания - Просмотреть все
Guy's New Speaker, Selections of Poetry and Prose from the Best Writers in ... Joseph Guy Недоступно для просмотра - 2016 |
Guy's New Speaker, Selections of Poetry and Prose from the Best Writers in ... Недоступно для просмотра - 2020 |
Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
appear arms bear beauty better body breath bring dead death deep desire doth earth eyes face fair fall father fear feel field fire flowers follow force fortune gentle give grace grave hand happy hast hath head hear heard heart heaven honour hope keep kind king leave less light live look lord lost means mind nature never night noble o'er observed once pain pass passions peace play pleased pleasure poor praise prince reason receive rest rich rise round smile soon soul sound speak spirit stand sweet tell thee thing thou thought thousand true turn virtue voice whole wind young youth
Популярные отрывки
Стр. 60 - How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank ! Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears ; soft stillness, and the night, Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold.
Стр. 356 - And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed, The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, And swiftly forming in the ranks of war; And the deep thunder peal on peal afar; And near, the beat of the alarming drum Roused up the soldier ere the morning star; While thronged the citizens with terror dumb, Or whispering, with white lips - 'The foe! they come! they come!
Стр. 101 - Alpheus, the dread voice is past That shrunk thy streams; return, Sicilian Muse, And call the vales, and bid them hither cast Their bells and flowerets of a thousand hues. Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers use Of shades, and wanton winds, and gushing brooks, On whose fresh lap the swart star sparely looks; Throw hither all your quaint enamelled eyes That on the green turf suck the honeyed showers, And purple all the ground with vernal flowers.
Стр. 298 - To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way. Beside the bed where parting life was laid. And sorrow, guilt, and pain, by turns dismayed, The reverend champion stood. At his control Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul ; Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raise, And his last faltering accents whispered praise.
Стр. iv - O now, for ever, Farewell the tranquil mind ! Farewell content ! Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars, That make ambition virtue ! O, farewell ! Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump, The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife, The royal banner ; and all quality. Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war ! And O, you mortal engines, whose rude throats The immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit, Farewell ! Othello's occupation's gone ! lago.
Стр. 6 - To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful, and ridiculous excess.
Стр. 297 - Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, And still where many a garden flower grows wild ; There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, The village preacher's modest mansion rose. A man he was to all the country dear, And passing rich with forty pounds a year; Remote from towns he ran his godly race, Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change, his place.
Стр. 102 - Through the dear might of Him that walk'd the waves; Where, other groves and other streams along, With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves, And hears the unexpressive nuptial song, In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love. There entertain him all the Saints above, In solemn troops and sweet societies, That sing, and singing in their glory move, And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes.