The Works of William Shakespeare ...

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J.D. Morris and Company, 1901
 

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Seite 87 - I saw a smith stand with his hammer, thus, The whilst his iron did on the anvil cool, With open mouth swallowing a tailor's news ; Who, with his shears and measure in his hand, Standing on slippers, (which his nimble haste Had falsely thrust upon contrary feet,)* Told of a many thousand warlike French, That were embatteled and rank'd in Kent : Another lean unwash'd artificer Cuts off his tale, and talks of Arthur's death.
Seite 92 - O Proserpina, For the flowers now, that, frighted, thou let'st fall From Dis's waggon! daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty ; violets, dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes, Or Cytherea's breath ; pale primroses, That die unmarried, ere they can behold Bright Phoebus in his strength, a malady Most incident to maids; bold oxlips, and The crown-imperial ; lilies of all kinds, The flower-de-luce being one ! O, these I lack.
Seite 77 - I would there were no age between ten and three-and-twenty ; or that youth would sleep out the rest ; for there is nothing in the between but getting wenches with child, wronging the ancientry, stealing, fighting.
Seite 81 - 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.
Seite 114 - This England never did, (nor never shall,) Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, But when it first did help to wound itself. Now these her princes are come home again, Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them : Nought shall make us rue, If England to itself do rest but true.
Seite 77 - Have you the heart? When your head did but ache, I knit my handkerchief about your brows, (The best I had ; a princess wrought it me,) And I did never ask it you again ; And with my hand at midnight held your head ; And, like the watchful minutes to the hour, Still and anon cheered up the heavy time ; Saying, What lack you ? and, Where lies your grief?
Seite 90 - re welcome, sir.— Give me those flowers there, Dorcas.— Reverend sirs, For you there 's rosemary, and rue; these keep Seeming and savour all the winter long : Grace and remembrance be to you both, And welcome to our shearing ! POLIXENES.
Seite 54 - To a most base and vile-concluded peace. And why rail I on this Commodity? But for because he hath not woo'd me yet: Not that I have the power to clutch my hand, When his fair angels would salute my palm; 590 But for my hand, as unattempted yet, Like a poor beggar, raileth on the rich.
Seite 92 - A wave o' the sea, that you might ever do Nothing but that ; move still, still so, and own No other function : Each your doing, So singular in each particular, Crowns what you are doing in the present deeds, That all your acts are queens.

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