Nights at the Play

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W. J. Ham-Smith, 1911 - Theater - 223 pages
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Page 108 - Isn't there the light of seven heavens in your heart alone the way you'll be an angel's lamp to me from this out, and I abroad in the darkness spearing salmons in the Owen or the Carrowmore?
Page 181 - Wept tears of blood? I cannot follow thee. What be these tears? HEINRICH (trying to raise his head). Thou lovely picture! . . . Help me to sit up. (RAUTENDELEIN stoops and supports his head.) Dost thou bend down to me? Then, with love's arms, Do thou release me from this cruel Earth, Whereunto the hour nails me, as to a cross. Release me! For thou canst. I know thou canst! And, with thy tender hands, pluck off the thorns That crown my head. No crown! Love — only Love!
Page 108 - It's little you'll think if my love's a poacher's or an earl's itself when you'll feel my two hands stretched around you, and I squeezing kisses on your puckered lips till I'd feel a kind of pity for the Lord God is all ages sitting lonesome in his golden chair.
Page 181 - THE VICAR. I thank you: and once more I wish good health To him who has so wondrously been healed. HEINRICH (pacing to and fro). Yes. I am healed — indeed. I feel it here Here, in my breast, that swells as I draw in Strength and new rapture with each living breath. It is as though the very youth of May Gladdened my heart and streamed into my being. I feel it in my arm — 'tis hard as steel; And in my hand, that, as the eagle's claw, Clutches at empty air, and shuts again, Wild with impatience...
Page 98 - Peter, because flowers are dear in cold weather? You should find fault with the climate, and not with me. For my part, I'm sure, I wish it was spring all the year round, and that roses grew under our feet!
Page 70 - Pray, do not mock me : I am a very foolish fond old man, Fourscore and upward, not an hour more nor less; And, to deal plainly, I fear I am not in my perfect mind.
Page 184 - Out there — beyond : in the wide land beyond ! And there were thousands flashing in the sun Beneath dark walls and mighty battlements, And all their shining limbs were stiff with steel ; And rank by rank they rattled as they marched, But each half hid his neighbour with his shield Like soldiers in the chapel-window glass ; And I rode with them, clad in silver mail From heel to head, upon a snow-white horse, And all my oriflammes were painted fair With lilies and the Rising of our Lord ; For we...
Page 108 - Let you wait, to hear me talking, till we're astray in Erris, when Good Friday's by, drinking a sup from a well, and making mighty kisses with our wetted mouths, or gaming in a gap of sunshine, with yourself stretched back unto your necklace, in the flowers of the earth.
Page 50 - Gentlemen, men like the prisoner are destroyed daily under our law for want of that human insight which sees them as they are, patients, and not criminals. If the prisoner be found guilty, and treated . as though he were a criminal type, he will, as all experience shows, in all probability become one. I beg you not to return a verdict that may thrust him back into prison and brand him for ever.
Page 109 - PEGEEN And myself a girl was tempted often to go sailing the seas till I'd marry a Jew-man with ten kegs of gold, and I not knowing at all there was the like of you drawing nearer like the stars of God.

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