Shakespeare, the Man: An Essay

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McClure, Phillips & Company, 1901 - 72 Seiten
 

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Seite 20 - Thus was this place, A happy rural seat of various view : Groves whose rich trees wept odorous gums and balm; Others whose fruit, burnished with golden rind, Hung amiable — Hesperian fables true, If true, here only — and of delicious taste. Betwixt them lawns, or level downs, and flocks Grazing the tender herb, were interposed, Or palmy hillock, or the flowery lap Of some irriguous valley, spread her store, Flowers of all hue, and without thorn the rose.
Seite 16 - It was a barren scene, and wild, Where naked cliffs were rudely piled; But ever and anon between Lay velvet tufts of loveliest green; And well the lonely infant knew Recesses where the wall-flower grew, And honey-suckle loved to crawl Up the low crag and ruined wall.
Seite 18 - 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...
Seite 45 - And then he drew a dial from his poke, And looking on it with lack-lustre eye, Says very wisely, ' It is ten o'clock : Thus may we see...
Seite 19 - Upon the rapid current, which, through veins Of porous earth with kindly thirst updrawn, Rose a fresh fountain, and with many a rill Watered the garden ; thence united fell Down the steep glade, and met the nether flood, Which from his darksome passage now appears, And now, divided into four main streams, Runs diverse, wandering many a famous realm And country whereof here needs no account...
Seite 50 - Lovers and madmen have such seething brains, Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend More than cool reason ever comprehends. The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, Are of imagination all compact...
Seite 45 - Tis but an hour ago since it was nine, And after one hour more 'twill be eleven ; And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe, And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot; And thereby hangs a tale.
Seite 50 - Over hill, over dale, Thorough bush, thorough briar, Over park, over pale, Thorough flood, thorough fire, I do wander every where, Swifter than the moones sphere ; And I serve the fairy queen, To dew her orbs upon the green...
Seite 27 - ... servant ; but in truth he kept by the old fashion, even with domestic servants, to an extent which I have hardly ever seen practised by any other gentleman. He conversed with his coachman if he sat by him, as he often did, on the box — with his footman, if he chanced to be in the rumble.
Seite 46 - Why, let the stricken deer go weep, The hart ungalled play; For some must watch, while some must sleep; So runs the world away.

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