Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream

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Charles E. Merrill, 1910 - 139 pages

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Page 110 - Now the wasted brands do glow, Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud, Puts the wretch that lies in woe In remembrance of a shroud. Now it is the time of night That the graves, all gaping wide, Every one lets forth his sprite, In the church-way paths to glide: And we fairies, that do run By the triple Hecate's team, From the presence of the sun, Following darkness like a dream, Now are frolic; not a mouse Shall disturb this hallow'd house: I am sent with broom before, To sweep the dust behind the...
Page 47 - Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell: It fell upon a little western flower, Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound, And maidens call it love-in-idleness.
Page 89 - I was with Hercules and Cadmus once, When in a wood of Crete they bay'd the bear With hounds of Sparta : never did I hear Such gallant chiding ; for, besides the groves, The skies, the fountains, every region near, Seem'd all one mutual cry : I never heard So musical a discord, such sweet thunder.
Page 36 - Things base and vile, holding no quantity, Love can transpose to form and dignity. Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind.
Page 32 - Ah me ! for aught that ever I could read, Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never did run smooth : But, either it was different in blood ;— Her.
Page 50 - I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, Where ox-lips and the nodding violet grows ; Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, With sweet musk-roses, and with eglantine...
Page 93 - The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen ; man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream was.
Page 32 - War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it; Making it momentany as a sound, Swift as a shadow, short as any dream ; Brief as the lightning in the collied night, That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth, And ere a man hath power to say, — Behold ! The jaws of darkness do devour it up : So quick bright things come to confusion.
Page 111 - No more yielding but a dream, Gentles, do not reprehend: If you pardon, we will mend.
Page 104 - The best in this kind are but shadows; and the worst are no worse, if imagination amend them.

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