Christopher Marlowe: Outlines of His Life and Works

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W.W. Gibbings, 1891 - 28 pages
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Page 16 - Oh! thou art fairer than the evening air Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars...
Page 26 - Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies, Soon break, soon wither — soon forgotten, In folly ripe, in reason rotten. Thy belt of straw and ivy-buds, Thy coral clasps and amber studs, — All these in me no means can move To come to thee and be thy Love.
Page 25 - THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE COME live with me and be my Love, And we will all the pleasures prove That hills and valleys, dales and fields, Or woods or steepy mountain yields.
Page 15 - 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 16 - Stand still, you ever-moving spheres of Heaven, That time may cease, and midnight never come; Fair Nature's eye, rise, rise again and make Perpetual day; or let this hour be but A year, a month, a week, a natural day, That Faustus may repent and save his soul! O lente, lente, currite noctis equi!
Page 24 - It lies not in our power to love, or hate, For will in us is overruled by fate. When two are stript, long ere the course begin, We wish that one should lose, the other win; And one especially do we affect Of two gold ingots, like in each respect. The reason no man knows; let it suffice, What we behold is censured by our eyes.
Page 22 - Tell Isabel, the queen, I looked not thus, When for her sake I ran at tilt in France, And there unhorsed the Duke of Cleremont.
Page 17 - O, it strikes, it strikes ! Now, body, turn to air, Or Lucifer will bear thee quick to hell. [ Thunder and lightning. O soul, be changed into little water-drops, And fall into the ocean — ne'er be found.
Page 25 - A gown made of the finest wool, Which from our pretty lambs we pull ; Fair lined slippers for the cold, With buckles of the purest gold. A belt of straw and ivy buds, With coral clasps and amber studs : And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me and be my love.
Page 16 - That when you vomit forth into the air, My limbs may issue from your smoky mouths, So that my soul may but ascend to Heaven.

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