Cumberland's British Theatre: with remarks, biographical and critical, Volume 11 (Google eBook)

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J. Cumberland, 1826 - English drama
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Page 38 - This story shall the good man teach his son; And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by, From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remembered, We few, we happy few, we band of brothers...
Page 29 - A blank, my lord. She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek: she pined in thought, And with a green and yellow melancholy She sat like patience on a monument, Smiling at grief.
Page 40 - Whose limbs were made in England, show us here The mettle of your pasture; let us swear That you are worth your breeding, which I doubt not; For there is none of you so mean and base, That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
Page 20 - Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on...
Page 36 - Not to-day, O Lord, O, not to-day, think not upon the fault My father made in compassing the crown ! I Richard's body have interred new ; And on it have bestow'd more contrite tears, Than from it issued forced drops of blood. Five hundred poor I have in yearly pay, Who twice...
Page 8 - Hear him but reason in divinity, And all-admiring with an inward wish You would desire the king were made a prelate : Hear him debate of commonwealth affairs, You would say it hath been...
Page 36 - He must observe their mood on whom he jests, The quality of persons, and the time, 70 And, like the haggard, check at every feather That comes before his eye. This is a practice As full of labour as a wise man's art: For folly that he wisely shows is fit; But wise men, folly-fall'n, quite taint their wit.
Page 38 - That fears his fellowship to die with us. This day is call'd the feast of Crispian ; He, that outlives this day, and comes safe home, Will stand a tip-toe when this day is named, And rouse him at the name of Crispian. He, that shall live this day, and see old age, Will yearly on the vigil feast his friends, And say to-morrow is Saint Crispian : Then will he strip his sleeve, and show his scars, And say, these wounds I had on Crispin's day.
Page 11 - 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 38 - This day is call'd the feast of Crispian : He that outlives this day, and comes safe home, Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd, And rouse him at the name of Crispian. He that shall live this day, and see old age, Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours, And say, To-morrow is Saint Crispian: Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars, And say, These wounds I had on Crispin's day.

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