Shakespeare's Tragedy of Cymbeline

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Harper & brothers, 1881 - Britons - 231 pages
 

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Page 33 - In these two princely boys ! They are as gentle As zephyrs, blowing below the violet, Not wagging his sweet head : and yet as rough, Their royal blood enchafed, as the rudest wind, That by the top doth take the mountain pine And make him stoop to the vale.
Page 215 - Come, seeling night, Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day; And with thy bloody and invisible hand Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale!
Page 193 - Saturn laugh'd and leap'd with him. Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell Of different flowers in odour and in hue, Could make me any summer's story tell...
Page 191 - Full little knowest thou that hast not tride, What hell it is, in suing long to bide : To loose good dayes, that might be better spent ; To wast long nights in pensive discontent ; To speed to day, to be put back to morrow ; To feed on hope, to pine with feare and sorrow...
Page 121 - ... past the tyrant's stroke; Care no more to clothe and eat; To thee the reed is as the oak : The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this, and come to dust.
Page 121 - FEAR no more the heat o' the sun, Nor the furious winter's rages; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages. Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Fear no more the frown o...
Page 171 - If we should fail? Lady M. We fail! But screw your courage to the sticking-place, And we'll not fail. When Duncan is asleep — Whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey Soundly invite him — his two chamberlains Will I with wine and wassail so convince That memory, the warder of the brain, Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason A limbeck only...
Page 94 - tis slander, Whose edge is sharper than the sword ; whose tongue Outvenoms all the worms of Nile ; * whose breath Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie All corners of the world : kings, queens, and states,3 Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave This viperous slander enters.
Page 206 - Call for the robin-red-breast and the wren, Since o'er shady groves they hover, And with leaves and flowers do cover The friendless bodies of unburied men. Call unto his funeral dole The ant, the field-mouse, and the mole To rear him hillocks that shall keep him warm And (when gay tombs are robbed) sustain no harm, But keep the wolf far thence that's foe to men, For with his nails he'll dig them up again.
Page 72 - Hark, hark ! the lark at heaven's gate sings, And Phoebus 'gins arise, His steeds to water at those springs On chaliced flowers that lies ; And winking Mary-buds begin To ope their golden eyes : With every thing that pretty is, My lady sweet, arise : Arise, arise.

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