De Vere: Or, The Man of Independence, Volum 3

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Carey, Lea, and Carey, 1827
 

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Pàgina 359 - And that which should accompany old age, As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, I must not look to have ; but, in their stead, Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath, Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not.
Pàgina 27 - As You Like It Under the Greenwood Tree Under the greenwood tree Who loves to lie with me, And turn his merry note Unto the sweet bird's throat, Come hither, come hither, come hither: Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather. Who doth ambition shun And loves to live i...
Pàgina 125 - Looks through the horizontal misty air Shorn of his beams, or from behind the moon In dim eclipse disastrous twilight sheds On half the nations, and with fear of change Perplexes monarchs.
Pàgina 12 - All places that the eye of heaven visits Are to a wise man ports and happy havens. Teach thy necessity to reason thus ; There is no virtue like necessity.
Pàgina 170 - If there is one thing more certain than another, it is that, as the popular element increases, that government recedes from aristocracy and monarchy toward republicanism.
Pàgina 12 - O ! who can hold a fire in his hand By thinking on the frosty Caucasus? Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite By bare imagination of a feast? Or wallow naked in December snow By thinking on fantastic summer's heat?
Pàgina 109 - And turn the unwilling steeds another way ; Benighted wanderers, the forest o'er, Curse the saved candle and unopening door ; . While the gaunt mastiff, growling at the gate, Affrights the beggar whom he longs to eat.
Pàgina 290 - Know, villains, when such paltry slaves presume To mix in treason, if the plot succeeds, They're thrown neglected by; but, if it fails, They're sure to die like dogs, as you shall do. Here, take these factious monsters, drag them forth To sudden death.
Pàgina 58 - To have done, is to hang Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail In monumental mockery. Take the instant way For honour travels in a strait so narrow, W'here one but goes abreast: keep then the path; For emulation hath a thousand sons, That one by one pursue: If you give way, Or hedge aside from the direct forthright, Like to an enter'd tide, they all rush by, And leave you hindmost...

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