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Arrah belle Sally black crows Bolus brow Brutus bull Caesar call'd clown countreman cried cursed dear death dere devil dinner doctor door dreadful Duke e'er eyes farmer father fear Fiddle-de-dee fool gentleman ghost give grand marquis grave hand haste head hear heard heart Heaven Hodge honour horse Husband Irish stew Jolter jonteel lady Lapstone lapsus lingua laugh littel boy look look'd lord loud Madam marquis Mary master Monsieur morning mysen ne'er never night nose Numps o'er once pass'd poor portmanteau pray quoth replied Romford round Saib sare seem'd shilling Sir Phil sleep smile soon soul soup maigre spectre sprite squire stranger sure swear sweet tale tears tell thee there's thing thou thought thrush Tom Long tongue Twas twill ween wife wretch Xenophon Zounds
Strona 148 - When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept; Ambition should be made of sterner stuff: Yet Brutus says he was ambitious; And Brutus is an houourable man. You all did see that on the Lupercal I thrice presented him a kingly crown, Which he did thrice refuse: was this ambition? Yet Brutus says he was ambitious; And, sure, he is an honourable man.
Strona 148 - Which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition ? Yet Brutus says, he was ambitious ; And, sure, he is an honourable man. I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke, But here I am to speak what I do know. You all did love him once, not without cause ; What cause withholds you then to mourn for him ? 0 judgment, thou art fled to brutish beasts, And men have lost their reason...
Strona 237 - When Cheerfulness, a nymph of healthiest hue, Her bow across her shoulder flung, Her buskins gemm'd with morning dew, Blew an inspiring air, that dale and thicket rung, The hunter's call to Faun and Dryad known...
Strona 163 - On Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow, And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly.
Strona 237 - And though sometimes, each dreary pause between, Dejected Pity at his side, Her soul-subduing voice applied, Yet still he kept his wild unalter'd mien, While each strain'd ball of sight seem'd bursting from his head.
Strona 202 - By heaven, I had rather coin my heart, And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash, By any indirection.
Strona 209 - Alas ! the joys that fortune brings Are trifling, and decay; And those who prize the paltry things, More trifling still than they. "And what is friendship but a name, A charm that lulls to sleep; A shade that follows wealth or fame, But leaves the wretch to weep?
Strona 206 - tis madness to defer: Next day the fatal precedent will plead ; Thus on, till wisdom is push'd out of life. Procrastination is the thief of time ; Year after year it steals, till all are fled, And to the mercies of a moment leaves The vast concerns of an eternal scene.