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50 cents 75 cents admiration amongst Baliol BARRY CORNWALL Beam beauty Belial Ben Jonson Bethune Brice character Charenton cloth dark death delight Demogorgon Dioneus dost doth drama dreams earth Emilia English eyes faculty fancy Faunus fiction Fletcher flowers Friday genius gilt girl Grace Greenwood graceful hear heart Heaven Henry of Navarre human imagination intellect Julio justice king knave La Brice lady Lamb Lawyer lived look Lord Mary Sumner Michael Milton mind Miss Moloch moral Nathaniel Hawthorne nature Neiphila never once paint Pamphilus passion perhaps philosopher Philostratus play poems poet poetical poetry Pope prose Raffaelle reader Rosny Satan scarcely scene Servant Shakspere sleep smile song speak spirit story style sweet tender thee things thou thought tion tragedy true truth usher verse WILLIAM MOTHERWELL wind wonder words writer young
Page 163 - She, as a veil down to the slender waist, Her unadorned golden tresses wore...
Page 101 - Was this the face that launched a thousand ships, And burnt the topless towers of Ilium? — Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss. — Her lips suck forth my soul : see, where it flies ! — Come, Helen, come, give me my soul again. Here will I dwell, for heaven is in these lips, And all is dross that is not Helena.
Page 158 - Care-charming Sleep, thou easer of all woes, Brother to Death, sweetly thyself dispose On this afflicted prince. Fall like a cloud In gentle showers: give nothing that is loud Or painful to his slumbers : easy, sweet, And as a purling stream, thou son of Night, Pass by his troubled senses ; sing his pain Like hollow murmuring wind, or silver rain : Into this prince, gently, oh gently slide, And kiss him into slumbers, like a bride.
Page 101 - Oh, thou art fairer than the evening air Clad in, the beauty of a thousand stars; Brighter art thou than flaming Jupiter When he appeared to hapless Semele: More lovely than the monarch of the sky In wanton Arethusa's azured arms:" And none but thou shalt be my paramour!
Page 168 - Sworn by his sire, a mortal foe to Rome, So Shadwell swore, nor should his vow be vain. That he till death true dulness would maintain; And, in his father's right, and realm's defence, Ne'er to have peace with wit, nor truce with sense.
Page 168 - How can I praise or blame, and not offend, Or how divide the frailty from the friend? Her faults and virtues lie so mix'd that she Nor wholly stands condemn'd, nor wholly free.
Page 112 - Thou wert not so even now, sickness' pale hand Laid hold on thee even in the midst of feasting ; And when a cup crowned with thy lover's health Had touched thy lips, a sensible cold dew Stood on thy cheeks, as if that death had wept To see such beauty alter.
Page 114 - Do you not weep ? Other sins only speak ; murder shrieks out : The element of water moistens the earth, But blood flies upwards and bedews the heavens. Ferd. Cover her face ; mine eyes dazzle : she died young.
Page 265 - ... to none in that band of humorists, whose beautiful depth of cheerful feeling is the very poetry of mirth. In ease, grace, delicate sharpness of satire, in a felicity of touch which often surpasses the felicity of Addison, in a subtlety of insight which often reaches...