Life, Letters, and Writings, Volum 5

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Pàgina 29 - Sleep no more ! Macbeth does murder sleep,' the innocent sleep, Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care, The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast, — Lady M. What do you mean ? Macb. Still it cried ' Sleep no more ! ' to all the house : ' Glamis hath murder'd sleep, and therefore Cawdor Shall sleep no more ; Macbeth shall sleep no more.
Pàgina 370 - Heaven from all creatures hides the book of Fate, All but the page prescribed, their present state: From brutes what men, from men what spirits know: Or who could suffer being here below? The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed to-day, Had he thy reason, would he skip and play? Pleased to the last, he crops the flowery food, And licks the hand just raised to shed his blood.
Pàgina 37 - With thy keen sword impress, as make me bleed: Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests; I bear a charmed life , which must not yield To one of woman born.
Pàgina 33 - Be bloody, bold, And resolute : laugh to scorn the power of man, For none of woman born shall harm Macbeth.
Pàgina 163 - There be delights, there be recreations and jolly pastimes that will fetch the day about from sun to sun, and rock the tedious year as in a delightful dream.
Pàgina 412 - ... if a wish could transport me back to those days of youth, when a draught from the next clear spring could slake any heats which summer suns and youthful exercise had power to stir up in the blood, how gladly would I return to thee, pure element, the drink of children, and of child-like holy hermit. In my dreams I can sometimes fancy thy cool refreshment purling over my burning tongue. But my waking stomach rejects it. That which refreshes innocence, only makes me sick and faint.
Pàgina 18 - With hey, ho, the wind and the rain. Must make content with his fortunes fit, Though the rain it raineth every day.
Pàgina 332 - Mr. H ," thou wert damned ! Bright shone the morning on the play-bills that announced thy appearance, and the streets were filled with the buzz of persons asking one another if they would go to see " Mr. H ," and answering that they would certainly : but before night the gaiety, not of the author, but of his friends and the town, was eclipsed, for thou wert damned 1 Hadst thou been anonymous, thou haply mightst have lived.
Pàgina 99 - twas wondrous pitiful; She wished she had not heard it, yet she wished That heaven had made her such a man; she thanked me, And bade me, if I had a friend that loved her, I should but teach him how to tell my story, And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake; She loved me for the dangers I had passed, And I loved her that she did pity them.

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