Select British Classics, Tom 16J. Conrad, 1803 |
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Strona 318
... about him . Hamlet holding up the skull which the grave - digger threw to him , with an account that it was the head of the king's jester , falls into very pleas- ing reflections , and cries out to his companion , Alas , poor Yorick ! I ...
... about him . Hamlet holding up the skull which the grave - digger threw to him , with an account that it was the head of the king's jester , falls into very pleas- ing reflections , and cries out to his companion , Alas , poor Yorick ! I ...
Kluczowe wyrazy i wyrażenia
acquaintance admired advantage affected agreeable Ann Boleyn appear beautiful behold Callisthenes character Cicero colours consider conversation Cotton library Cynthio delight desire discourse divine Eastcourt endeavour entertainment excellent eyes fancy favour fortune gentleman give Gloriana gout grace hand happiness heart honour hope humble servant humour ideas Iliad imagination irreligion James Miller kind lady letter live look lours mankind manner matter mind modesty nation nature ness never objects observed occasion OVID paper particular pass passions Penthesilea perfection persons pleasant pleasing pleasure Plutarch Plutus poet poor present racter reader reason received reflection ROSCOMMON Samson Agonistes satisfaction secret Sempronia sense shew sight soul Spanish monarchy Spectator taste thing thio thou thought tion town tural ture VIRG Virgil virtue whole woman women words writing
Popularne fragmenty
Strona 331 - I have set the LORD always before me : because he is at my right hand, I shall not be moved.
Strona 305 - And nightly to the list'ning earth Repeats the story of her birth : Whilst all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets in their turn, Confirm the tidings as they roll, And spread the truth from pole to pole.
Strona 297 - There was a little city, and few men within it; and there came a great king against it, and besieged it, and built great bulwarks against it: 15 Now there was found in it a poor wise man, and he by his wisdom delivered the city; yet no man remembered that same poor man.
Strona 199 - The Lord my pasture shall prepare. And feed me with a shepherd's care; His presence shall my wants supply, And guard me with a watchful eye; My noonday walks he shall attend, And all my midnight hours defend.
Strona 318 - Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio. A fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy. He hath bore me on his back a thousand times. And now how abhorred in my imagination it is! My gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now? Your gambols, your songs, your flashes of merriment that were wont to set the table on a roar...
Strona 70 - OUR sight is the most perfect and most delightful of all our senses. It fills the mind with the largest "variety of ideas, converses with its objects at the greatest distance, and continues the longest in action without being tired or satiated with its proper enjoyments.
Strona 16 - Grace, let not any light fancy or bad counsel of mine enemies withdraw your princely favour from me ; neither let that stain, that unworthy stain of a disloyal heart towards your good Grace ever cast so foul a blot on your most dutiful wife, and the infant princess, your daughter.
Strona 70 - It is this sense which furnishes the imagination with its ideas ; so that by the pleasures of the imagination, or fancy, (which I shall use promiscuously,) I here mean such as arise from visible objects, either when we have them actually in our view, or when we call up their ideas into our minds by paintings, statues, descriptions, or any the like occasion.
Strona 318 - Horatio : a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy : he hath borne me on his back a thousand times ; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is ! my gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now ? your gambols ? your songs ? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar...
Strona 200 - Though in the paths of death I tread, With gloomy horrors overspread ; My steadfast heart shall fear no ill, For thou, O Lord, art with me still ; Thy friendly crook shall give me aid, And guide me through the dreadful shade Though in a bare and rugged way, Through devious lonely wilds I stray.