A dictionary of quotations from the British poets, by the author of The peerage and baronetage charts, &c |
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Resultats 1 - 5 de 62.
Pàgina viii
would permit ; but if his judgment in the se- lection be arraigned , he can only plead the licence that is necessarily allowed to the taste . of every individual , and hope that by some at least , this plea will be admitted .
would permit ; but if his judgment in the se- lection be arraigned , he can only plead the licence that is necessarily allowed to the taste . of every individual , and hope that by some at least , this plea will be admitted .
Pàgina xiii
Holiday 109 Honesty 109 Honor 110 Hope 112 Horsemanship 113 Hospitality 113 Humility 114 Hunting 114 Hypocrisy 116 I. Ignorance Illness 121 121 Imagination Impatience Imprisonment Infidelity Ingratitude Innocence Instinct Ireland PAGE ...
Holiday 109 Honesty 109 Honor 110 Hope 112 Horsemanship 113 Hospitality 113 Humility 114 Hunting 114 Hypocrisy 116 I. Ignorance Illness 121 121 Imagination Impatience Imprisonment Infidelity Ingratitude Innocence Instinct Ireland PAGE ...
Pàgina 9
Cromwell , I charge thee , fling away ambition ; By that sin fell the angels , how can man then , The image of his Maker , hope to win by't ? Men at some time are masters of their fates : The fault , dear Brutus , is not in our stars ...
Cromwell , I charge thee , fling away ambition ; By that sin fell the angels , how can man then , The image of his Maker , hope to win by't ? Men at some time are masters of their fates : The fault , dear Brutus , is not in our stars ...
Pàgina 11
More pangs and fears than wars or women have ; And when he falls , he falls like Lucifer , Never to hope again . Follow I must , I cannot go before , While Gloster bears this base and humble mind . Were I a man , a duke , and next of ...
More pangs and fears than wars or women have ; And when he falls , he falls like Lucifer , Never to hope again . Follow I must , I cannot go before , While Gloster bears this base and humble mind . Were I a man , a duke , and next of ...
Pàgina 14
... ( Good argument I hope we will not fly , ) And time has worn us into slovenry : But , by the mass , our hearts are in the trim . Within a ken , our army Upon mine honour , all too confident To give admittance to a thought of fear .
... ( Good argument I hope we will not fly , ) And time has worn us into slovenry : But , by the mass , our hearts are in the trim . Within a ken , our army Upon mine honour , all too confident To give admittance to a thought of fear .
Què en diuen els usuaris - Escriviu una ressenya
No hem trobat cap ressenya als llocs habituals.
Continguts
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Frases i termes més freqüents
ambition arms bear beauty blood breath Byron's clouds Cowper's Task curse dare dark dead death deeds deep doth dread dream Dryden's earth eyes face fair fall fate fear feel fire fool fortune gentle give grace grave grief hand happy hast hath head hear heart heaven honour hope hour human Ibid Italy keep king leave light live look lord Milton's Paradise Lost mind morning nature never night noble o'er once pain passion peace pleasure poor reason round Rowe's slave sleep smile soft sorrow soul speak spirit stand storm strange sweet tears tell thee things Thomson's thou thought thousand tongue true turn virtue wind wise woman wretched Young's Night Thoughts youth
Passatges populars
Pàgina 52 - tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles And by opposing end them. To die, to sleep...
Pàgina 7 - With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side ; His youthful hose, well sav'd, a world too wide For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness, and mere oblivion ; Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans every thing.
Pàgina 53 - The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, The pangs of despis'd love, the law's delay, The insolence of office and the spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin?
Pàgina 238 - Sleep, O gentle Sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down. And steep my senses in forgetfulness...
Pàgina 10 - Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory ; But far beyond my depth ; my high-blown pride At length broke under me ; and now has left me, Weary, and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.
Pàgina 75 - I could a tale unfold whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part And each particular hair to stand on end, Like quills upon the fretful porcupine : But this eternal blazon must not be To ears of flesh and blood.
Pàgina 46 - Cowards die many times before their deaths ; The valiant never taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, It seems to me most strange that men should fear; Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come when it will come.
Pàgina 133 - 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 ! And O, you mortal engines, whose rude throats The immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit, Farewell ! Othello's occupation's gone ! lago.
Pàgina 126 - Yet could I bear that too ; well, very well : — But there, where I have garner'd up my heart, Where either I must live or bear no life, The fountain from the which my current runs, Or else dries up ; to be discarded thence ! Or keep it as a cistern for foul toads To knot and gender in ! Turn thy complexion there, Patience, thou young and rose-lipp'd cherubin, Ay, there, look grim as hell ! Des.
Pàgina 145 - Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness ! This is the state of man ; to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him : The third day comes a frost, a killing frost ; And,— when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a ripening, — nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.