The complete works of Shakspere, with a memoir, and essay, by Barry Cornwall. Historical and critical studies of Shakspere's text [&c.] by R.G. White, R.H. Horne, and other writers, Volum 3
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The complete works of Shakspere, with a memoir, and essay, by Barry ..., Volum 1
Visualitzaciˇ completa - 1870
The complete works of Shakspere, with a memoir, and essay, by Barry ..., Volum 2
Visualitzaciˇ completa - 1870
The Complete Works of Shakspere, with a Memoir, and Essay, by Barry Cornwall ...
William Shakespeare,Bryan Waller Procter
Previsualitzaciˇ no disponible - 2015
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PÓgina 48 - This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England, This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings, Feared by their breed, and famous by their birth, Renowned for their deeds as far from home, For Christian service and true chivalry...
PÓgina 308 - To kings, that fear their subjects' treachery ? O, yes it doth ; a thousand-fold it doth. And to conclude, — the shepherd's homely curds, His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle, His wonted sleep under a fresh tree's shade, All which secure and sweetly he enjoys, Is far beyond a prince's delicates, His viands sparkling in a golden cup, • His body couched in a curious bed, When care, mistrust, and treason wait on him.
PÓgina 56 - All murder'd: for within the hollow crown That rounds the mortal temples of a king Keeps Death his court, and there the antic sits, Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp, Allowing him a breath, a little scene, To monarchize, be...
PÓgina 545 - CXLVI. Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth, Fool'd by those rebel powers that thee array, Why dost thou pine within, and suffer dearth, Painting thy outward walls so costly gay ? Why so large cost, having so short a lease, Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend ? Shall worms, inheritors of this excess, Eat up thy charge ? Is this thy body's end ? Then, soul, live thou upon thy servant's loss, And let that pine to aggravate thy store ; Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross ; Within be fed,...
PÓgina 48 - Dear for her reputation through the world, Is now leased out, I die pronouncing it, Like to a tenement or pelting farm : England, bound in with the triumphant sea, Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege Of watery Neptune, is now bound in with shame, With inky blots and rotten parchment bonds : That England, that was wont to conquer others, Hath made a shameful conquest of itself.
PÓgina 83 - My liege, I did deny no prisoners. But, I remember, when the fight was done, When I was dry with rage, and extreme toil, Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword, Came there a certain lord, neat, trimly...
PÓgina 410 - Go, get thee from me, Cromwell ; I am a poor fallen man, unworthy now To be thy lord and master : Seek the king ; That sun, I pray, may never set ! I have told him What, and how true thou art : he will advance thee : Some little memory of me will stir him (I know his noble nature), not to let Thy hopeful service perish too : Good Cromwell, Neglect him not ; make use! now, and provide For thine own future safety.
PÓgina 536 - gainst his glory fight, And time, that gave, doth now his gift confound. Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth, And delves the parallels in beauty's brow; Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth, And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow. And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand, Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.
PÓgina 308 - God! methinks, it were a happy life, To be no better than a homely swain; To sit upon a hill, as I do now, To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, Thereby to see the minutes how they run: How many make the hour full complete, How many hours bring about the day, How many days will finish up the year, How many years a mortal man may live. When this...
PÓgina 533 - I'll read, his for his love." XXXIII Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy; Anon permit the basest clouds to ride With ugly rack on his celestial face And from the forlorn world his visage hide, Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace. Even so my sun one early morn did shine With all-triumphant splendour on my brow; But out, alack!