Hamel, the Obeah man

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Page 297 - Ay, but to die, and go we know not where ; To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot ; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod...
Page 268 - Full oft by holy feet our ground was trod, Of clerks good plenty here you mote espy. A little, round, fat, oily man of God, Was one I chiefly mark'd among the fry : He had a roguish twinkle in his eye, And shone all glittering with ungodly dew, If a tight damsel chaunc'd to trippen by ; Which when observ'd, he shrunk into his mew, And straight would recollect his piety anew.
Page 109 - I am no orator, as Brutus is; But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man, That love my friend; and that they know full well That gave me public leave to speak of him: For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech, To stir men's blood: I only speak right on; I tell you that which you yourselves do know...
Page 310 - No might nor greatness in mortality Can censure 'scape ; back-wounding calumny The whitest virtue strikes : What king so strong Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue ! But who comes here ? Enter Escalus, Provost, Bawd, and Officers.
Page 46 - Come on, sir; here's the place: — stand still. — How fearful And dizzy 'tis, to cast one's eyes so low! The crows, and choughs, that wing the midway air, Show scarce so gross as beetles : Half way down Hangs one that gathers samphire; dreadful trade! Methinks, he seems no bigger than his head: The fishermen, that walk upon the beach, Appear like mice; and yon...
Page 79 - The purest treasure mortal times afford Is spotless reputation ; that away, Men are but gilded loam or painted clay.
Page 210 - Here love his golden shafts employs, here lights His constant lamp, and waves his purple wings, Reigns here and revels...
Page 240 - THERE was an ancient sage philosopher That had read Alexander Ross over, And swore the world, as he could prove, Was made of fighting and of love. Just so Romances are, for what else Is in them all but love and battles ? O' th' first of these w' have no great matter To treat of, but a world o' th' latter, In which to do the injured right We mean, in what concerns just fight.
Page 171 - Lay her i' the earth : And from her fair and unpolluted flesh May violets spring ! I tell thee churlish priest, A ministering angel shall my sister be, When thou liest howling.
Page 210 - How oft, when press'd to marriage, have I said, Curse on all laws but those which love has made! Love, free as air, at sight of human ties, Spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies...

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