King Henry the Eighth

Front Cover
D.C. Heath & Company, 1899 - Great Britain - 167 pages
 

What people are saying - Write a review

We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.

Other editions - View all

Common terms and phrases

Popular passages

Page 53 - This many summers in a sea of glory ; But far beyond my depth ; my high-blown pride At length broke under me, and now has left me, Weary, and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream that must for ever hide me.
Page 38 - Orpheus with his lute made trees, And the mountain tops that freeze, Bow themselves, when he did sing: To his music plants and flowers Ever sprung ; as sun and showers There had made a lasting spring.
Page 55 - Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition : By that sin fell the angels ; how can man, then, The image of his Maker, hope to win by 't ? Love thyself last : cherish those hearts that hate thee : Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues : be just, and fear not.
Page 61 - From his cradle, He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one ; Exceeding wise, fair spoken, and persuading : Lofty and sour to them that loved him not ; But to those men that sought him, sweet as summer.
Page 52 - Farewell, a long farewell, to all. my greatness ! This is the state of man : to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hopes ; to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him ; The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, And, — when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a ripening, — nips his root, And then he falls as I do.
Page 38 - Every thing that heard him play, Even the billows of the sea, Hung their heads, and then lay by. In sweet music is such art, Killing care and grief of heart Fall asleep, or hearing, die.
Page 60 - O father abbot, An old man, broken with the storms of state, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye; Give him a little earth for charity...
Page 54 - Long in his highness' favour, and do justice For truth's sake and his conscience; that his bones, When he has run his course and sleeps in blessings, May have a tomb of orphans
Page 55 - O Cromwell, Cromwell, Had I but served my God with half the zeal I served my king, he would not in mine age Have left me naked to mine enemies.
Page 79 - Nor shall this peace sleep with her : but as when The bird of wonder dies, the maiden phoenix, Her ashes new create another heir As great in admiration as herself : So shall she leave her blessedness to one, When Heaven shall call her from this cloud of darkness.

Bibliographic information