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Æschylus affected amidst ancient Anglo-Saxon animal appears Aristophanes asked Bacchus beauty boast brain Cæsar called character Cicero common confess consciousness course Craniologists Craniology death dialect divine earth Eleans Eleusis enquiry Euripides evil express Falstaff favour fear feel Games genius give Greece Greek head heart heaven Hercules Herodotus honour human idea identity Iliad impression intellectual Joanna Baillie Julius Cæsar king language living look Macbeth means memory ment mind moral mysteries nations nature never noble Olympic once organs original Osiris Palæstra passion Pausanias peculiar perfect perhaps person Phidias philosophy Pindar Plato Plautus Plutarch poet principle probably prove quæ reason Roman Saxon says scarcely scene seems sense sentiment Shakspeare skull solemn Sophocles soul sound speak species spirit strange supposed temple thee thing Thou thought Thucydides tion tragedy truth virtue word
Seite 192 - I have almost forgot the taste of fears : The time has been, my senses would have cool'd To hear a night-shriek; and my fell of hair Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir As life were in't: I have supp'd full with horrors; Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, Cannot once start me.
Seite 217 - Sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep" — the innocent sleep, Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care; The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great Nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast — Lady M. What do you mean? Macb. Still it cried "Sleep no more!
Seite 405 - 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 intreasured.
Seite 34 - Some men with swords may reap the field, And plant fresh laurels where they kill : But their strong nerves at last must yield ; They tame but one another still : Early or late They stoop to fate, And must give up their murmuring breath, When they, pale captives, creep to death. The garlands wither on your brow, Then boast no more your mighty deeds ; Upon Death's purple altar now See, where the victor-victim bleeds : Your heads must come To the cold tomb ; Only the actions of the just Smell sweet,...
Seite 263 - When I was dry with rage and extreme toil, Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword, Came there a certain lord, neat, and trimly dress'd, Fresh as a bridegroom, and his chin new reap'd Show'd like a stubble-land at harvest-home.
Seite 153 - But words are things, and a small drop of ink, Falling like dew upon a thought, produces That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think.
Seite 48 - My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, So flew'd, so sanded ; and their heads are hung With ears that sweep away the morning dew ; Crook-knee'd, and dew-lapp'd like Thessalian bulls ; Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouth like bells, Each under each.
Seite 207 - Horatio, what a wounded name, Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me. If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart, Absent thee from felicity awhile, And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain, To tell my story.
Seite 213 - I have given suck, and know How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me: I would, while it was smiling in my face, Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums, And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you Have done to this.