A dictionary of quotations from the British poets, by the author of The peerage and baronetage charts, &c1824 |
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Página 39
... Death of thy soul ! those linen cheeks of thine Are counsellers to fear . What soldiers , whey - face ? You are the hare of whom the proverb goes , Whose valour plucks dead lions by the beard . Art thou afear'd To be the same in thine ...
... Death of thy soul ! those linen cheeks of thine Are counsellers to fear . What soldiers , whey - face ? You are the hare of whom the proverb goes , Whose valour plucks dead lions by the beard . Art thou afear'd To be the same in thine ...
Página 44
... death Environ you ; till mischief , and despair , Drive you to break your necks , or hang yourselves . Now the red pestilence strike all trades in Rome , And occupations perish ! All the contagion of the south light on you , You shames ...
... death Environ you ; till mischief , and despair , Drive you to break your necks , or hang yourselves . Now the red pestilence strike all trades in Rome , And occupations perish ! All the contagion of the south light on you , You shames ...
Página 46
... DEATH . The sense of death is most in apprehension ; And the poor beetle , that we tread upon , In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great As when a giant dies . Cowards die many times before their deaths ; The valiant never taste of ...
... DEATH . The sense of death is most in apprehension ; And the poor beetle , that we tread upon , In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great As when a giant dies . Cowards die many times before their deaths ; The valiant never taste of ...
Página 47
... death . The tongues of dying men Inforce attention , like deep harmony : Where words are scarce , they're seldom spent in vain ; For they breathe truth , that breathe their words in pain . If ... death ! Thou odoriferous stench DEATH . 47.
... death . The tongues of dying men Inforce attention , like deep harmony : Where words are scarce , they're seldom spent in vain ; For they breathe truth , that breathe their words in pain . If ... death ! Thou odoriferous stench DEATH . 47.
Página 48
... death ; the weakest kind of fruit Drops earliest to the ground , and so let me . All comfort go with thee ! For none abides with me : my joy is death ; Death at whose name I oft have been afear'd , Because I wish'd this world's eternity ...
... death ; the weakest kind of fruit Drops earliest to the ground , and so let me . All comfort go with thee ! For none abides with me : my joy is death ; Death at whose name I oft have been afear'd , Because I wish'd this world's eternity ...
Índice
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65 | |
91 | |
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125 | |
133 | |
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34 | |
53 | |
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65 | |
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81 | |
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52 | |
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Palavras e frases frequentes
ambition art thou bear beauty blood bosom breath Busiris Cæsar cheek clouds Coriolanus Cowper's Task crown curse dare dead death deeds Doge of Venice dost doth dread dream Dryden's Duke of Guise earth Ev'n eyes fair Fair Penitent fear fool fortune friends gentle give grace grave grief Gustavus Vasa hand Hannah More's happy hate hath Havard's head heart heaven hell honour hour Ibid Jane Shore Joanna Baillie's king Lady Jane Grey live look lord Maturin's Bertram mercy Milton's Paradise Lost mind nature ne'er never noble o'er Otway's pale Paradise Regained passion peace Philotas pity poor Rowe's Sardanapalus Scanderbeg scorn shew sigh slave sleep smile soft sorrow soul speak spirit sweet Tamerlane tears tell thee thine things Thomson's Seasons-Spring thou art thou hast thousand thro tongue Venice Preserved virtue weep wind words wretched Young's Night Thoughts youth
Passagens conhecidas
Página 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...
Página 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.
Página 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?
Página 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...
Página 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.
Página 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.
Página 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.
Página 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.
Página 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.
Página 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.