The Literature and the Literary Men of Great Britain and Ireland, Tom 1

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Harper & brothers, 1851

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Strona 314 - Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup, And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine.
Strona 310 - O, now you weep ; and, I perceive, you feel The dint of pity : these are gracious drops. Kind souls, what weep you, when you but behold Our Caesar's vesture wounded ? Look you here ! Here is himself, marr'd, as you see, with traitors.
Strona 476 - Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee Jest, and youthful jollity, Quips, and cranks, and wanton wiles, Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles, Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek : Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides.
Strona 496 - Lets in new light through chinks that time has made : Stronger by weakness, wiser men become, As they draw near to their eternal home. Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view, That stand upon the threshold of the new.
Strona 488 - They, looking back, all the eastern side beheld Of Paradise, so late their happy seat, Waved over by that flaming brand; the gate With dreadful faces thronged and fiery arms. Some natural tears they dropped, but wiped them soon; The world was all before them, where to choose Their place of rest, and Providence their guide. They, hand in hand, with wandering steps and slow, Through Eden took their solitary way.
Strona 476 - Ring out, ye crystal spheres ! Once bless our human ears, If ye have power to touch our senses so ; And let your silver chime Move in melodious time ; And let the bass of heaven's deep organ blow And with your ninefold harmony Make up full consort to the angelic symphony.
Strona 308 - But yesterday, the word of Caesar might Have stood against the world : now lies he there, And none so poor to do him reverence.
Strona 486 - Rising or falling still advance his praise. His praise, ye Winds, that from four quarters blow, Breathe soft or loud ; and, wave your tops, ye Pines, With every plant, in sign of worship wave.
Strona 475 - And, though the shady Gloom Had given Day her room, The Sun himself withheld his wonted speed, And hid his head for shame, As his inferior flame The new-enlightened world no more should need : He saw a greater Sun appear Than his bright throne or burning axletree could bear.
Strona 308 - Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. The evil, that men do, lives after them ; The good is oft interred with their bones ; So let it be with Caesar.

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