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appeared bell bold born brave brought called character cried dark dead dear death died door draw Duke earth England eyes face fair fall father fear feel followed galloping give gone green hall hand head hear heard heart Heaven hope hour human King land laugh leave less light live look Lord meet mind mother mountain nature never night o'er once passed play poet poor rock round seemed seen Shakspeare side sight song soon soul sound spirit stood story strange success sweet tears tell thee thing thou thought took tree true turned village voice wife wild Winkle young
Page 109 - But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we; Of many far wiser than we ; And neither the angels in heaven above, Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE. For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE ; And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE.
Page 153 - Julius bleed for justice' sake ? What villain touch'd his body, that did stab, And not for justice? What ! shall one of us, That struck the foremost man of all this world But for supporting robbers, shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes, And sell the mighty space of our large honours For so much trash as may be grasped thus ? I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman.
Page 35 - twas a pleasing fear, For I was as it were a child of thee, And trusted to thy billows far and near, And laid my hand upon thy mane — as I do here.
Page 154 - I did send to you For certain sums of gold, which you denied me; — For I can raise no money by vile means : 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. I did send To you for gold to pay my legions, Which you denied me: Was that done like Cassius ? Should I have answer'd Caius Cassius so?
Page 166 - ... twere the mirror up to nature ; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time his form and pressure. Now, this overdone, or come tardy off, though it make the unskilful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve ; the censure of which one must, in your allowance, o'erweigh a whole theatre of others.
Page 155 - O Cassius, you are yoked with a lamb That carries anger as the flint bears fire ; Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark, And straight is cold again.
Page 6 - With Spanish yew so strong, Arrows a cloth-yard long, That like to serpents stung, Piercing the weather; None from his fellow starts, But playing manly parts, And like true English hearts, Stuck close together. When down their bows they threw, And forth their bilboes...