Shakespeare's comedies, histories, tragedies, and poems, Volume 5 (Google eBook)

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Whittaker, 1858
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Page 622 - Give warning to the world that I am fled From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell: Nay, if you read this line, remember not The hand that writ it; for I love you so, That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot, If thinking on me then should make you woe. O, if, I say, you look upon this verse When I perhaps compounded am with clay, Do not so much as my poor name rehearse, But let your love even with my life decay; Lest the wise world should look into your moan, And mock you with me after...
Page 161 - The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, Burn'd on the water; the poop was beaten gold, Purple the sails, and so perfumed that The winds were love-sick with them, the oars were silver, Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made The water which they beat to follow faster, As amorous of their strokes.
Page 99 - Yet could I bear that too ; well, very well : But there, where I have garner'd up my heart, Where either I must live or bear no life, The fountain from the which my current runs, Or else dries up ; to be discarded thence ! Or keep it as a cistern for foul toads To knot and gender in ! Turn thy complexion there, Patience, thou young and rose-lipp'd cherubin, Ay, there, look grim as hell ! Des.
Page 623 - That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west; Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire, That on the ashes of his youth doth lie, As the death-bed, whereon it must expire, Consumed with that...
Page 242 - His legs bestrid the ocean : his rear'd arm Crested the world: * his voice was propertied As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends; But when he meant to quail' and shake the orb, He was as rattling thunder.
Page 622 - No longer mourn for me when I am dead Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell Give warning to the world that I am fled From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell: Nay, if you read this line, remember not The hand that writ it; for I love you so, That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot, If thinking on me then should make you woe.
Page 604 - Desiring this man's art and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least ; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, and then my state, Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate; For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
Page 339 - Fear no more the frown o' the great: Thou art 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 596 - And sable curls all silver'd o'er with white, When lofty trees I see barren of leaves Which erst from heat did canopy the herd, And summer's green all girded up in sheaves Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard, Then of thy beauty do I question make, That thou among the wastes of time must go, Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake And die as fast as they see others grow ; And nothing 'gainst Time's scythe can make defence Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.
Page 615 - Gainst death and all-oblivious enmity Shall you pace forth : your praise shall still find room Even in the eyes of all posterity, That wear this world out to the ending doom. So, till the judgment that yourself arise, You live in this, and dwell in lovers

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