The Youth of Shakspeare, Volumen3

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Página 203 - THE glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things; There is no armour against Fate; Death lays his icy hand on kings: Sceptre and Crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade. Some men with swords may reap the field, And plant fresh laurels where they kill...
Página 101 - Without constraint, or dread of any ill: The gentle bird feels no captivity Within her cage: but sings, and feeds her fill. There pride dare not approach, nor discord spill The league 'twixt them, that loyal love hath bound...
Página 230 - When yet th' unborn shall say, Lo where she lies, Whose beauty made him speak that else was dumb. These are the arks, the trophies I erect, That fortify thy name against old age; And these thy sacred virtues must protect Against the dark and time's consuming rage. Though th' error of my youth in them appear, Suffice, they show I lived and loved thee dear.
Página 73 - CHLORIS ! farewell; I now must go; For if with thee I longer stay, Thy eyes prevail upon me so, I shall prove blind, and lose my way. Fame of thy beauty and thy youth, Among the rest, me hither brought: Finding this fame fall short of truth, Made me stay longer than I thought.
Página 127 - Tell fortune of her blindness; Tell nature of decay; Tell friendship of unkindness ; Tell justice of delay; And if they will reply, Then give them all the lie.
Página 255 - While with vain hopes our faculties we tire, We seem to sweat in ice and freeze in fire. What would I do, were this to do again ? I would not change my peace of conscience For all the wealth of Europe. — She stirs; here's life: — Return, fair soul, from darkness, and lead mine Out of this sensible hell: — she's warm, she breathes: — Upon thy pale lips I will melt my heart, To store them with fresh colour.
Página 1 - Are forced to express our violent passions In riddles and in dreams, and leave the path Of simple virtue, which was never made To seem the thing it is not. Go, go brag You have left me heartless; mine is in your bosom: I hope 'twill multiply love there. You do tremble : Make not your heart so dead a piece of flesh, To fear more than to love me. Sir, be confident : What is 't distracts you?
Página 53 - Phi. The love of boys unto their lords is strange ; I have read wonders of it : yet this boy For my sake (if a man may judge by looks And speech) would out-do story.
Página 230 - Though the winter have begun To benumb our arteries, Shall not want the summer's sun. Welcome, welcome, &c. Love, that still may see your cheeks, Where all rareness still reposes, Is a fool if e'er he seeks Other lilies, other roses.
Página 101 - And if that envy bark at thee, As sure it will, for succour flee Under the shadow of his wing...

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