The Plays & Poems of Shakespeare: Venus & Adonis. The rape of Lucrece. Sonnets. A lover's complaint. The passionate pilgrim. Index to the striking passages & beautiesH:O. Bohn, 1857 |
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Стр. 25
... worth . The colt that's back'd and burthen'd being young , Loseth his pride , and never waxeth strong . You hurt my hand with wringing ; let us part , And leave this idle theme , this bootless chat : Remove your siege from my unyielding ...
... worth . The colt that's back'd and burthen'd being young , Loseth his pride , and never waxeth strong . You hurt my hand with wringing ; let us part , And leave this idle theme , this bootless chat : Remove your siege from my unyielding ...
Стр. 53
... worth the viewing ? Whose tongue is music now ? what canst thou boast Of things long since , or any thing ensuing ? The flowers are sweet , their colors fresh and trim ; But true - sweet beauty lived and died with him . ' Bonnet nor ...
... worth the viewing ? Whose tongue is music now ? what canst thou boast Of things long since , or any thing ensuing ? The flowers are sweet , their colors fresh and trim ; But true - sweet beauty lived and died with him . ' Bonnet nor ...
Стр. 63
... worth of my untutored lines , makes it assured of acceptance . What I have done is yours , what I have to do is yours ; being part in all I have , devoted yours . Were my worth greater , my duty would show greater : mean- time , as it ...
... worth of my untutored lines , makes it assured of acceptance . What I have done is yours , what I have to do is yours ; being part in all I have , devoted yours . Were my worth greater , my duty would show greater : mean- time , as it ...
Стр. 148
... worth held : Then , being ask'd where all thy beauty lies , Where all the treasure of thy lusty days ; To say , within thine own deep - sunken eyes , Were an all - eating shame , and thriftless praise . How much more praise deserved thy ...
... worth held : Then , being ask'd where all thy beauty lies , Where all the treasure of thy lusty days ; To say , within thine own deep - sunken eyes , Were an all - eating shame , and thriftless praise . How much more praise deserved thy ...
Стр. 157
... worth , nor outward fair , 2 Can make you live yourself in eyes of men . To give away yourself , keeps yourself still ; And you must live , drawn by your own sweet skill . XVII . Who will believe my verse in time to come If it were fill ...
... worth , nor outward fair , 2 Can make you live yourself in eyes of men . To give away yourself , keeps yourself still ; And you must live , drawn by your own sweet skill . XVII . Who will believe my verse in time to come If it were fill ...
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Adonis bear beauteous beauty's behold blood blushing boar breast breath bright brow cheeks Collatine dead dear death deeds delight desire dost thou doth face fair fair lords falchion false fault fear fire flower forsworn foul gainst gentle give grace grief groans hand hast hate hath hear heart heaven honor kiss lend light lips live looks love's love's fire Love's Labor's Lost LOVER'S COMPLAINT Lucrece lust mayst mind Muse never night numbers o'er pale PASSIONATE PILGRIM pity poison'd poor praise Priam pride proud quoth RAPE OF LUCRECE seem'd shadow SHAK shame sighs sight Sonnet sorrow soul swear Tarquin tears thee thence thine eyes thing thou art thou dost thou shalt thou wilt thought thy love thy sweet thyself Time's tongue true truth unto Venus and Adonis weary weep wherein wind words wound youth
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Стр. 158 - But thy eternal summer shall not fade, Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest ; Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou growest. So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
Стр. 212 - Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul Of the wide world dreaming on things to come, Can yet the lease of my true love control, Suppos'd as forfeit to a confin'd doom.
Стр. 266 - Crabbed age and youth Cannot live together ; Youth is full of pleasance, Age is full of care: Youth like summer morn, Age like winter weather ; Youth like summer brave, Age like winter bare. Youth is full of sport, Age's breath is short, Youth is nimble, age is lame : Youth is hot and bold, Age is weak and cold ; Youth is wild, and age is tame.
Стр. 213 - To leave for nothing all thy sum of good ; For nothing this wide universe I call, Save thou, my rose ; in it thou art my all. ex. Alas, 'tis true I have gone here and there, And made myself a motley to the view...
Стр. 218 - If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Стр. 231 - But wherefore says she not she is unjust? And wherefore say not I that I am old? O love's best habit is in seeming trust, And age in love loves not to have years told. Therefore I lie with her, and she with me, And in our faults by lies we flattered be.
Стр. 226 - Past reason hated, as a swallow'd bait, On purpose laid to make the taker mad: Mad in pursuit, and in possession so; Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme; A bliss in proof, — and prov'd, a very woe; Before, a joy propos'd; behind, a dream.
Стр. 200 - Was it the proud full sail of his great verse, Bound for the prize of all too precious you, That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse, Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew? Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead? No, neither he, nor his compeers by night Giving him aid, my verse astonished. He, nor that affable familiar ghost Which nightly gulls him with intelligence, As victors of my silence cannot boast — I was not sick of any fear...
Стр. 213 - Though absence seem'd my flame to qualify. As easy might I from myself depart As from my soul, which in thy breast doth lie : That is my home of love : if I have ranged, Like him that travels I return again, Just to the time, not with the time exchanged, So that myself bring water for my stain.
Стр. 197 - I, once gone, to all the world must die. The earth can yield me but a common grave. When you entombed in men's eyes shall lie. Your monument shall be my gentle verse, Which eyes not yet created shall o'er-read. And tongues to be your being shall rehearse When all the breathers of this world are dead. You still shall live — such virtue hath my pen — Where breath most breathes, even in the mouths of men.