The Tales and Miscellaneous Poems

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Bohn, 1847 - 384 pages
 

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Page 100 - Ah me! for aught that I could ever read, Could ever hear by tale or history, The course of true love never did run smooth...
Page 198 - Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased ; Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow ; Raze out the written troubles of the brain ; And, with some sweet, oblivious antidote, Cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff, Which weighs upon the heart ? Doct.
Page 167 - Kent. That such a slave as this should wear a sword, Who wears no honesty. Such smiling rogues as these, Like rats, oft bite the holy cords a-twain Which are too intrinse t...
Page 140 - I had a thing to say, — But let it go : The sun is in the heaven, and the proud day, Attended with the pleasures of the world...
Page 198 - My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, And every tongue brings in a several tale, And every tale condemns me for a villain. Perjury, perjury, in the high'st degree; Murder, stern murder, in the dir'st degree; All several sins, all us'd in each degree, Throng to the bar, crying all 'Guilty! guilty!
Page 359 - a generous action: in so free and kind a manner did they contribute to " my relief, that if I was dry, I drank the sweetest draught; and if hungry, " I ate the coarsest morsel with a double relish.
Page 288 - A credulous father, and a brother noble, Whose nature is so far from doing harms, That he suspects none, on whose foolish honesty My practices ride easy ! — I see the business.
Page 54 - Heav'n, perhaps, might yet enrich her friend. Month after month was pass'd, and all were spent In quiet comfort and in rich content: Miseries there were, and woes the world around, But these had not her pleasant dwelling found; She knew that mothers grieved, and widows wept, And she was sorry, said her prayers, and slept...
Page 258 - Yes, lady, not his years ;— No ! nor his sufferings— nor that fo'rm decay'd." "Well ! let the parish give its paupers aid ; You must the vileness of His acts allow ;" " And you, dear lady, that he' feels it now." " When such dissemblers on their deeds reflect, Can they .the pity they refused expect ? He that doth evil, evil shall he dread."
Page 197 - Alack, I love myself. Wherefore? For any good That I myself have done unto myself? O, no! Alas, I rather hate myself For hateful deeds committed by myself! I am a villain; yet I lie, I am not. Fool, of thyself speak well. Fool, do not flatter. My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, And every tongue brings in a several tale, And every tale condemns me for a villain.

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