The Poems of William Shakespeare: Comprehending Venus and Adonis, Tarquin and Lucrece, and Poems on Several OccasionsMunroe, Francis and Parker, 1808 - 204 psl. |
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31 psl.
... behold , The cedar - tops and hills seem burnish'd gold . Venus salutes him with this fair good - morrow ; O thou dear god , and patron of all light ! From whom each lamp and shining star both borrow The beauteous influence that makes ...
... behold , The cedar - tops and hills seem burnish'd gold . Venus salutes him with this fair good - morrow ; O thou dear god , and patron of all light ! From whom each lamp and shining star both borrow The beauteous influence that makes ...
37 psl.
... behold two Adons dead ! My sighs are blown away , my salt tears gone , Mine eyes are turn'd to fire , my heart to lead ; Heavy hearts ' lead melt at mine eyes as fire , So shall I die by drops of hot desire . Alas ! poor world ! what ...
... behold two Adons dead ! My sighs are blown away , my salt tears gone , Mine eyes are turn'd to fire , my heart to lead ; Heavy hearts ' lead melt at mine eyes as fire , So shall I die by drops of hot desire . Alas ! poor world ! what ...
56 psl.
... behold , Are by his flaming torch dim'd and controul'd . Imagine her as one in dead of night , Forth from dull sleep by dreadful fancy waking , That thinks she hath beheld some ghastly sprite Whose grim aspect sets every joint a shaking ...
... behold , Are by his flaming torch dim'd and controul'd . Imagine her as one in dead of night , Forth from dull sleep by dreadful fancy waking , That thinks she hath beheld some ghastly sprite Whose grim aspect sets every joint a shaking ...
64 psl.
... behold the day : For day ( quoth she ) night - scapes doth open lay ; And my true eyes have never practis'd how To cloak offences with a cunning brow . They think not but that every eye can see The same disgrace which they themselves ...
... behold the day : For day ( quoth she ) night - scapes doth open lay ; And my true eyes have never practis'd how To cloak offences with a cunning brow . They think not but that every eye can see The same disgrace which they themselves ...
66 psl.
... behold that face , Which underneath thy black , all - hiding cloak Imodestly lies martyr'd with disgrace ; Keep still possession of thy gloomy place , That all the faults , which in thy reign are made , May likewise be sepulchred in thy ...
... behold that face , Which underneath thy black , all - hiding cloak Imodestly lies martyr'd with disgrace ; Keep still possession of thy gloomy place , That all the faults , which in thy reign are made , May likewise be sepulchred in thy ...
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The Poems of William Shakespeare Comprehending Venus and Adonis, Tarquin ... William Shakespeare Peržiūra negalima - 2014 |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Adonis art thou bear beauteous beauty beauty's behold blood blushing breast breath brow cheeks Colatine dead dear death deeds delight desire dost thou doth face fair fair lord false fame fear fire flowers foul gainst gentle give grace grief groans hand hate hath hear heart heaven Helen hide honour Ilium Jove king kiss Laomedon Lest lips live looks love's love's fire Lucrece Lucretius lust may'st Menelaus mind never night numbers o'er pale Phrygian pity pleasure poison'd poor praise Priam Procris proud queen quoth rage rich seem'd Sextus Tarquinius shalt shame sighs sight sorrow soul strive swear sweet Tarquin tears Tereu thee Theseus thine eye thing thou art thou dost thou wilt thought thro thy love thyself time's tongue Troy true truth unto Venus VENUS AND ADONIS vex'd weep Whilst wind wound youth
Populiarios ištraukos
96 psl. - Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, So do our minutes hasten to their end, Each changing place with that which goes before, In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
117 psl. - Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy; Anon permit the basest clouds to ride With ugly rack on his celestial face...
111 psl. - I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste: Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow, For precious friends hid in death's dateless night, And weep afresh love's...
147 psl. - And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare As any she belied with false compare.
152 psl. - ... powers that thee array, Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth, Painting thy outward walls so costly gay? Why so large cost, having so short a lease, Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend ? Shall worms, inheritors of this excess, Eat up thy charge? is this thy body's end? Then, soul, live thou upon thy servant's loss, And let that pine to aggravate thy store; Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross; Within be fed, without be rich no more: So shalt thou feed on Death, that feeds on men,...
102 psl. - If it were fill'd with your most high deserts? Though yet, heaven knows, it is but as a tomb Which hides your life and shows not half your parts. If I could write the beauty of your eyes And in fresh numbers number all your graces, The age to come would say 'This poet lies; Such heavenly touches ne'er touch'd earthly faces.
100 psl. - FROM fairest creatures we desire increase, That thereby beauty's rose might never die, But as the riper should by time decease, His tender heir might bear his memory: But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes, Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel Making a famine where abundance lies, Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel. Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament And only herald to the gaudy spring, Within thine own bud buriest thy content And, tender churl, makest waste...
111 psl. - When to the Sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste...
110 psl. - Desiring this man's art and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least ; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, and then my state, Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate; For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
113 psl. - Be thou the tenth muse, ten times more in worth Than those old nine, which rhymers invocate ; And he that calls on thee, let him bring forth Eternal numbers to outlive long date. If my slight muse do please these curious days, The pain be mine, but thine shall be the praise.