Tragedy of Cymbeline

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J. M. Dent and Company, 1900
 

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Seite 104 - FEAR no more the heat o' the sun, Nor the furious winter's rages: Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages; Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Fear no more the frown o' the great: Thou art past the tyrant's stroke. Care no more to clothe and eat; To thee the reed is as the oak: The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this, and come to dust. Fear no more the...
Seite 102 - With fairest flowers, Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele, I'll sweeten thy sad grave : thou shalt not lack The flower that's like thy face, pale primrose ; nor The azured hare-bell, like thy veins ; no, nor The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander, Out-sweeten'd not thy breath...
Seite 34 - Hark, hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings, And Phoebus 'gins arise, His steeds to water at those springs On chaliced flowers that lies; And winking Mary-buds begin To ope their golden eyes: With every thing that pretty is, My lady sweet, arise: Arise, arise.
Seite 158 - Laud we the gods; And let our crooked smokes climb to their nostrils From our bless'd altars. Publish we this peace To all our subjects. Set we forward: let A Roman and a British ensign wave Friendly together; so through Lud's town march: And in the temple of great Jupiter Our peace we'll ratify; seal it with feasts.
Seite 66 - tis slander, Whose edge is sharper than the sword ; whose tongue Outvenoms all the worms of Nile ; whose breath Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie All corners of the world : kings, queens, and states, Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave This viperous slander enters.

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