The Works of William Shakespeare, Volume 1

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J. D. Morris, 1901

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Page 69 - I have had a most rare vision. I have had a dream, past the wit of man to say what dream it was: Man is but an ass if he go about to expound this dream.
Page 1 - My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, So flew'd, so sanded ; and their heads are hung With ears that sweep away the morning dew ; Crook-knee'd, and dew-lapp'd like Thessalian bulls ; Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouth like bells, Each under each.
Page 54 - ... created both one flower, Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, Both warbling of one song, both in one key ; As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds, Had been incorporate. So we grew together, Like to a double cherry, seeming parted ; But yet a union in partition, Two lovely berries moulded on one stem : So, with two seeming bodies, but one heart ; Two of the first, like coats in heraldry, Due but to one, and crowned with one crest.
Page 86 - If we shadows have offended, Think but this, and all is mended, That you have but slumber'd here, While these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, No more yielding but a dream, Gentles, do not reprehend: If you pardon, we will mend.
Page 21 - Over hill, over dale, Thorough bush, thorough brier, Over park, over pale, Thorough flood, thorough fire, I do wander every where, Swifter than the moon's sphere; And I serve the fairy queen, To dew her orbs upon the green. The cowslips tall her pensioners be: In their gold coats spots you see; Those be rubies, fairy favours, In those freckles live their savours: I must go seek some dewdrops here, And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.
Page 105 - And strait conjunction with this sex: for either He never shall find out fit mate, but such As some misfortune brings him, or mistake ; Or whom he wishes most shall seldom gain, Through her perverseness, but shall see her...
Page 16 - Things base and vile, holding no quantity, Love can transpose to form and dignity. Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind.
Page 20 - Ant. Moreover, he hath left you all his walks, His private arbours, and new-planted orchards, On this side Tiber; he hath left them you, And to your heirs for ever; common pleasures, To walk abroad, and recreate yourselves. Here was a Caesar: When comes such another? 1 Cit. Never, never: Come away, away: We'll burn his body in the holy place, And with the brands fire the traitors

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