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Absalom and Achitophel Amphitryon angels Beaumont and Fletcher beauty Ben Jonson better blow Book breath Canto Canto iii Childe Harold's Pilgrimage Compare dark dead dear death Devil doth dream Dryden Dunciad earth Eccles Epistle Epitaph Essay eyes fair fear flower fools give glory grave hand happy hast hath heart heaven Henry Heywood's Proverbs honour hope Hudibras Ibid JOHN King Lady light Line live Lord man's Matt Merchant of Venice merry mind morning nature ne'er never night numbers o'er Paradise Lost Paradise Lost continued Plutarch Pope Prov Proverbs RICHARD Richard III Shakespeare sleep smile Song Sonnet sorrow soul Speech spirit Stanza stars sweet tale tears thee things THOMAS thou thought tongue truth unto viii virtue WILLIAM wind wise woman words young youth
Page 86 - Romeo, and when he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine, That all the world will be in love with night, And pay no worship to the garish Sun.
Page 507 - When my eyes shall be turned to behold for the last time the sun in heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken and dishonored fragments of a once glorious Union ; on States dissevered, discordant, belligerent; on a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal blood!
Page 70 - Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more, Or close the wall up with our English dead ! In peace there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility ; But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger...
Page 298 - Tis not enough no harshness gives offence, The sound must seem an echo to the sense. Soft is the strain when Zephyr gently blows, And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows; But when loud surges lash the sounding shore, The hoarse, rough verse should like the torrent roar. When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw, The line too labours, and the words move slow; Not so, when swift Camilla scours the plain, Flies o'er th' unbending corn, and skims along the main.
Page 57 - To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful, and ridiculous excess.
Page 44 - How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank ! Here will we sit and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears : soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines...
Page 92 - But yesterday the word of Caesar might Have stood against the world : now lies he there, And none so poor to do him reverence.
Page 191 - Thus with the year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine; But cloud instead, and ever-during dark Surrounds me...
Page 212 - Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers use Of shades, and wanton winds, and gushing brooks, On whose fresh lap the swart star sparely looks; Throw hither all your quaint enamell'd eyes, That on the green turf suck the honied showers, And purple all the ground with vernal flowers.