Works, 3 tomasBell & Bradfute, J. Dickinson [and others], 1795 |
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7 psl.
... doth backward pull . Our flow defigns , when we ourfelves are dull . What power is it which mounts my love fo high , That makes me fee , and cannot feed mine eye ? The mightieft space in fortune nature brings To join like likes , and ...
... doth backward pull . Our flow defigns , when we ourfelves are dull . What power is it which mounts my love fo high , That makes me fee , and cannot feed mine eye ? The mightieft space in fortune nature brings To join like likes , and ...
13 psl.
... Doth to our rofe of youth rightly belong ; Our blood to us , this to our blood , is born ; It is the fhow and feal of nature's truth , Where love's ftrong paffion is imprefs'd in youth ; By our remembrances of days foregone , Such were ...
... Doth to our rofe of youth rightly belong ; Our blood to us , this to our blood , is born ; It is the fhow and feal of nature's truth , Where love's ftrong paffion is imprefs'd in youth ; By our remembrances of days foregone , Such were ...
16 psl.
... doth ftretch itself as ' tis receiv'd , And is enough for both . 1 Lord . ' Tis our hope , Sir , After well - enter'd foldiers , to return And find your Grace in health . King . No , no , it cannot be ; and yet my heart Will Propping ...
... doth ftretch itself as ' tis receiv'd , And is enough for both . 1 Lord . ' Tis our hope , Sir , After well - enter'd foldiers , to return And find your Grace in health . King . No , no , it cannot be ; and yet my heart Will Propping ...
17 psl.
William Shakespeare. Will not confefs it owns the malady That doth my life befiege : farewell , young Lords ; Whether I live or die , be you the fons Of worthy Frenchmen ; let higher Italy * ( Thofe ' bated that inherit but the fall Of ...
William Shakespeare. Will not confefs it owns the malady That doth my life befiege : farewell , young Lords ; Whether I live or die , be you the fons Of worthy Frenchmen ; let higher Italy * ( Thofe ' bated that inherit but the fall Of ...
21 psl.
... , no worfe of worst extended ; With vileft torture let my life be ended . King . Methinks , in thee fome bleffed fpirit doth speak : His His power full founds within an organ weak ; And Sc . 3 . 23 ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL .
... , no worfe of worst extended ; With vileft torture let my life be ended . King . Methinks , in thee fome bleffed fpirit doth speak : His His power full founds within an organ weak ; And Sc . 3 . 23 ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL .
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Populiarios ištraukos
324 psl. - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form; Then, have I reason to be fond of grief ? Fare you well: had you such a loss as I, I could give better comfort than you do.
248 psl. - By bud of nobler race : this is an art Which does mend nature, change it rather, but The art itself is nature.
324 psl. - There's nothing in this world can make me joy : Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale, Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man ; And bitter shame hath spoil'd the sweet world's taste, That it yields nought but shame and bitterness.
330 psl. - To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful, and ridiculous excess.
57 psl. - The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together: our virtues would be proud if our faults whipped them not ; and our crimes would despair if they were not cherished by our virtues.