PoetryVicesimus Knox S. Walker, 1825 |
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Rezultatai 1–3 iš 76
4 psl.
... Thou art not for the fashion of these times , Where none will sweat but for promotion ; And , having that , do choak ... hast not lov'd- Or if thou hast not sate as I do now , Wearying thy hearer in thy mistress ' praise , Thou hast not ...
... Thou art not for the fashion of these times , Where none will sweat but for promotion ; And , having that , do choak ... hast not lov'd- Or if thou hast not sate as I do now , Wearying thy hearer in thy mistress ' praise , Thou hast not ...
12 psl.
... thou die ? pardon , Are of two houses ; lawful mercy sure , Is nothing kin to foul redemption . Hope . The miserable ... hast not , still thou striv'st to get ; | And what thou hast , forgett'st . Thou art not certain ; For thy ...
... thou die ? pardon , Are of two houses ; lawful mercy sure , Is nothing kin to foul redemption . Hope . The miserable ... hast not , still thou striv'st to get ; | And what thou hast , forgett'st . Thou art not certain ; For thy ...
101 psl.
... thou dar'st ask Nor shall the sacred character of king Be urg'd to shield me from thy bold appeal . If I have injur'd thee , that makes us equal : The wrong , if done , debas'd me down to thee . But thou hast charg'd me with ingratitude ; ...
... thou dar'st ask Nor shall the sacred character of king Be urg'd to shield me from thy bold appeal . If I have injur'd thee , that makes us equal : The wrong , if done , debas'd me down to thee . But thou hast charg'd me with ingratitude ; ...
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Ajax arms art thou bear beauty behold blood breast breath bright Brutus Cæsar call'd Cassius cheek Comus Cymbeline dead dear death Decius didst dost doth dread dream earth ev'ry eyes fair father fear fire flow'rs gentle give gods gold grace grief Hadad hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hell honor hour Iago king Lady light live look lord lov'd lyre Macb Macbeth Macd Marcian mind moon Muse nature ne'er never night noble nymph o'er Othello Pandarus peace pity poor pow'r pride prince Rome round seem'd SHAKSPEARE sight sleep smile soft Sonnet sorrow soul speak spide spirit stamp'd sweet sword tears tell thee thine things thou art thou hast thought thyself tongue twas Tybalt unto Vent vex'd virtue voice weep wind wretched youth