Elements of Criticism, Tom 1

Przednia okładka
Collins and Hannay, no. 230 Pearl-street. J. Oram, printer, 1819
 

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Strona 186 - Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world, Like a Colossus ; and we petty men Walk under his huge legs, and peep about To find ourselves dishonourable graves.
Strona 239 - O ! who can hold a fire in his hand By thinking on the frosty Caucasus? Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite By bare imagination of a feast? Or wallow naked in December snow By thinking on fantastic summer's heat? O no, the apprehension of the good Gives but the greater feeling to the worse : Fell sorrow's tooth doth never rankle more Than when it bites, but lanceth not the sore.
Strona 79 - My story being done, She gave me for my pains a world of sighs : She swore, — in faith, 'twas strange, 'twas passing strange ; 'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful: She wish'd she had not heard it ; yet she wish'd That heaven had made her such a man : she thank'd me; And bade me, if I had a friend that lov'd her, I should but teach him how to tell my story, And that would woo her.
Strona 74 - Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent, That day he overcame the Nervii: — Look, in this place, ran Cassius* dagger through: See what a rent the envious Casca made: Through this the well-beloved Brutus stabb'd And, as he pluck'd his cursed steel away, Mark how the blood of Caesar...
Strona 411 - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form; Then, have I reason to be fond of grief ? Fare you well: had you such a loss as I, I could give better comfort than you do.
Strona 405 - gainst self-slaughter! O God! O God! How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable Seem to me all the uses of this world! Fie on't! O fie! 'tis an unweeded garden, That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature Possess it merely.
Strona 406 - Must I remember? why, she would hang on him, As if increase of appetite had grown By what it fed on; and yet, within a month, Let me not think on't: Frailty, thy name is woman!
Strona 236 - It must not be : if Cassio do remain, ' He hath a daily beauty in his life, That makes me ugly ; and, besides, the Moor May unfold me to him ; there stand I in much peril : No, he must die : — But so, I hear him coming.
Strona 400 - fair light, And thou enlighten'd earth, so fresh and gay, Ye hills, and dales, ye rivers, woods, and plains, And ye that live and move, fair creatures, tell, Tell, if ye saw, how came I thus, how here?
Strona 401 - That for some vicious mole of nature in them, As, in their birth— wherein they are not guilty, Since nature cannot choose his origin— By the o'ergrowth of some complexion, Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason...

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