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Seite 152 - Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall up with our English dead. In peace there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility: But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger...
Seite 190 - Crispian shall ne'er go by, From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remembered : We few, we happy few, we band of brothers ; For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother ; be he ne'er so vile, This day shall gentle his condition : And gentlemen in England, now a-bed, Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here ; And hold their manhoods cheap, whiles any speaks That fought with us upon saint Crispin's day.
Seite 472 - God! methinks, it were a happy life, To be no better than a homely swain; To sit upon a hill, as I do now, To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, Thereby to see the minutes how they run: How many make the hour full complete, How many hours bring about the day, How many days will finish up the year, How many years a mortal man may live.
Seite 153 - Be copy now to men of grosser blood, And teach them how to war. And you, good yeomen Whose limbs were made in England, show us here The mettle of your pasture ; let us swear That you are worth your breeding — which I doubt not — For there is none of you so mean and base, That hath not noble lustre in your eyes. I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. The game's afoot; Follow your spirit, and upon this charge Cry "God for Harry, England, and Saint George!
Seite 54 - There is a history in all men's lives, Figuring the nature of the times deceased ; The which observed, a man may prophesy, With a near aim, of the main chance of things As yet not come to life, which in their seeds And weak beginnings lie intreasure'd. Such things become the hatch and brood of time...
Seite 117 - O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend The brightest heaven of invention, A kingdom for a stage, princes to "act, And monarchs to behold the swelling scene ! Then should the warlike Harry, like himself, Assume the port of Mars; and at his heels, Leash'd in like hounds, should famine, sword and fire Crouch for employment.
Seite 189 - Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host, That he which hath no stomach to this fight, Let him depart; his passport shall be made, And crowns for convoy put into his purse: We would not die in that man's company That fears his fellowship to die with us. This day is...
Seite 190 - This day is call'd — the feast of Crispian ; He, that outlives this day, and comes safe home, Will stand a tip-toe when this day is named, And rouse him at the name of Crispian. He, that shall live this day, and see old age, Will yearly on the vigil feast his friends, And say — to-morrow is Saint Crispian : Then will he strip his sleeve, and show his scars, And say, these wounds I had on Crispin's day.
Seite 93 - Laud be to God ! — even there my life must end. It hath been prophesied to me many years, I should not die but in Jerusalem ; Which vainly I supposed the Holy Land. — But bear me to that chamber ; there I'll lie ; In that Jerusalem shall Harry die.