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Page 12 - This was the most unkindest cut of all; For when the noble Caesar saw him stab, Ingratitude, more strong than traitors...
Page 18 - O my soul's joy ! If after every tempest come such calms, May the winds blow till they have waken'd death ! And let the labouring bark climb hills of seas, Olympus-high ; and duck again as low As hell's from heaven ! If it were now to die, 'Twere now to be most happy ; for, I fear, My soul hath her content so absolute, That not another comfort like to this Succeeds in unknown fate.
Page 34 - I have laboured to refine our language to grammatical purity, and to clear it from colloquial barbarisms, licentious idioms, and irregular combinations. Something, perhaps, I have added to the elegance of its construction, and something to the harmony of its cadence.
Page 13 - And when he was come near, he beheld the city, and wept over it, saying, If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things which belong unto thy peace ! but now they are hid from thine eyes.
Page 18 - O now, for ever, Farewell the tranquil mind ! Farewell content ! Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars, That make ambition virtue ! O, farewell ! Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump, The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife, The royal banner ; and all quality. Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war...
Page 5 - In thoughts from the visions of the night, when deep sleep falleth on men, fear came upon me, and trembling, which made all my bones to shake. Then a spirit passed before my face; the hair of my flesh stood up: it stood still, but I could not discern the form thereof: an image was before mine eyes, there was silence, and I heard a voice, saying, Shall mortal man be more just than God?
Page 13 - O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, which killest the prophets, and stonest them that are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children together, as a hen doth gather her brood under her wings, and ye would not...
Page 24 - As I foretold you, were all fpirits, and Are melted into air, into thin air ; And, like the bafelefs fabric of this vifion, The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces, The folemn temples, the great globe itfelf, Yea, all which it inherit, fhall diffolve ; And, like this infubftantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind ! We are fuch fluff As dreams are made on, and our little life Is rounded with a Deep.
Page 25 - Art thou also become weak as we? Art thou become like unto us? Thy pomp is brought down to the grave and the noise of thy viols: the worm is spread under thee, and the worms cover thee. How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! How art thou cut down to the ground, which didst weaken the nations!