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Acres adeo arms art thou Athens atque Bayes blood Bonnie Dundee brave breath Capt Charmides dead dear death dicere Dogb doth egad Enter etiam Exeunt Exit eyes Falstaff father fear fight fool gentlemen give haec hand hath head hear heard heart heaven hercle hinc honour hunc I.—Scene ilium Juba king Lady look Lord madam Malaprop Malvolio Master Master constable Menaechmus Mercutio mihi neque never night nihil noble nunc o'er Pangloss peace Phormio pray Prince Puff quae quam Quid quidem Quin quod quom scene Sir Anth Sir Fret sleep smile Sneer soul speak sunt Surf sweet sword Syphax tell thee there's thine thing thou art thou hast tibi twas Tybalt volo wind Zounds
Стр. 121 - And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress
Стр. 313 - That to the faithful herdman's art belongs ! What recks it them ? What need they ? they are sped ; And when they list, their lean and flashy songs Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw, The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed, But swoln with wind and the rank mist they draw, Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread : Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw Daily devours apace, and nothing said, But that two-handed engine at the door Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more.
Стр. 323 - Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and. curious volume of forgotten lore — While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. " "Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door — Only this and nothing more.
Стр. 247 - Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated; who could guess If ever more should meet those mutual eyes, Since upon night so sweet such awful morn could rise? 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...
Стр. 324 - This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch...
Стр. 385 - Stern Lawgiver! yet thou dost wear The Godhead's most benignant grace; Nor know we anything so fair As is the smile upon thy face: Flowers laugh before thee on their beds And fragrance in thy footing treads; Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong; And the most ancient heavens, through Thee, are fresh and strong.
Стр. 313 - Alas! what boots it with incessant care To tend the homely slighted shepherd's trade, And strictly meditate the thankless Muse? Were it not better done as others use, To sport with Amaryllis in the shade, Or with the tangles of Neaera's hair? Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise (That last infirmity of noble mind) To scorn delights, and live laborious days...
Стр. 288 - Oh ! say, can you see, by the dawn's early light, What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming? Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight, O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming...
Стр. 425 - If we wish to be free, if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges, for which we have been so long contending — if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained, we must fight ; I repeat it, sir, we must fight. An appeal to arms, and to the God of Hosts, is all that is left us. They tell us, sir, that we are weak, unable to cope...
Стр. 275 - From his nest by the white waves' foam ; And the rocking pines of the forest roared — This was their welcome home. There were men with hoary hair Amidst that pilgrim band : Why had they come to wither there, Away from their childhood's land ? There was woman's fearless eye, Lit by her deep love's truth ; There was manhood's brow, serenely high, And the fiery heart of youth. What sought they thus afar ? Bright jewels of the mine ? The wealth of seas, the spoils of war ? They sought a faith's pure...