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affection appearance arms assist attention bear beautiful become began blessing bring brother brought called child conduct continued daughter death delight duty earth enjoy eyes fall father fear feel fell fire fortune garden gave girl give gratitude ground hand happiness head hear heard heart heaven honour hope human Joseph kind knowledge land leave lived look lost master means mind morning mother mountain nature never night object obliged observed once parents passed peace person pleasure poor possession present received returned rising scene season seemed sent side slave soon speak spring suffer tears tenderness thee thing thou thought tion took tree turned unto virtue voice walk whole wish young youth
Page 87 - There runs not a drop of my blood in the veins of any living creature. This called on me for revenge. I have sought it : I have killed many : I have fully glutted my vengeance. For my country I rejoice at the beams of peace. But do not harbor a thought that mine is the joy of fear.
Page 255 - I'll leave you till night: you are welcome to Elsinore. Ros. Good my lord ! [Exeunt Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Ham. Ay, so, God be wi' you : — Now I am alone. O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I ! Is it not monstrous, that this player here, But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his own conceit...
Page 252 - Seems, madam ! nay, it is ; I know not seems. 'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, Nor customary suits of solemn black...
Page 249 - I'd have you do it ever : when you sing, I'd have you buy and sell so ; so give alms ; Pray so ; and, for the ordering your affairs, To sing them too. When you do dance, I wish you A wave o' the sea, that you might ever do Nothing but that...
Page 191 - Gladness grew in me upon the discovery of so delightful a scene. I •wished for the wings of an eagle, that I might fly away to those happy seats ; but the Genius told me there was no passage to them, except through the gates of death that I saw opening every moment upon the bridge. "The islands...
Page 247 - The seasons' difference, as the icy fang And churlish chiding of the winter's wind, Which, when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say, 'This is no flattery: these are counsellors That feelingly persuade me what I am.
Page 247 - Tis but an hour ago since it was nine, And after one hour more 'twill be eleven; And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe, And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot; And thereby hangs a tale.
Page 249 - If music be the food of love, play on ; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. That strain again ! it had a dying fall : O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south, That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour ! Enough ; no more : 'Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
Page 248 - There are a sort of men, whose visages Do cream and mantle like a standing pond; And do a wilful stillness entertain, With purpose to be dress'd in an opinion Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit; As who should say, ' I am Sir Oracle, And, when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!
Page 249 - And thus still doing, thus he pass'd along. Duch. Alas, poor Richard ! where rides he the whilst? York. As in a theatre, the eyes of men, After a well-grac'd actor leaves the stage, Are idly bent on him that enters next, Thinking his prattle to be tedious : Even so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes Did scowl on Richard ; no man cried, God save him...