The Works of Shakespeare ...

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Bobbs-Merrill Company, 1925

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Page 31 - This happy breed of men, this little world, This precious stone set in the silver sea, Which serves it in the office of a wall Or as a moat defensive to a house, Against the envy of less happier lands ; This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England, This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings, Fear'd by their breed and famous by their birth...
Page 25 - O ! who can hold a fire in his hand By thinking on the frosty Caucasus? Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite By bare imagination of a feast?
Page 69 - I'll give my jewels for a set of beads, My gorgeous palace for a hermitage, My gay apparel for an alms-man's gown, My...
Page 93 - As in a theatre, the eyes of men, After a well-graced actor leaves the stage, Are idly bent on him that enters next, Thinking his prattle to be tedious ; Even so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes Did scowl on Richard ! no man cried, God save him...
Page 93 - Richard : no man cried, God save him ! No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home ; But dust was thrown upon his sacred head, Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off, — His face still combating with tears and smiles, The badges of his grief and patience, — That, had not God, for some strong...
Page 79 - Against black pagans, Turks, and Saracens : And, toil'd with works of war, retired himself To Italy ; and there at Venice, gave His body to that pleasant country's earth, And his pure soul unto his captain Christ, Under whose colours he had fought so long.
Page 30 - This royal throne of kings, this scept'red isle, This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demi-paradise, This fortress built by Nature for herself Against infection and the hand of war, This happy breed of men, this little world, This precious stone set in the silver sea...
Page 92 - You would have thought the very windows spake, So many greedy looks of young and old Through casements darted their desiring eyes Upon his visage ; and that all the walls With painted imagery had said at once, — " Jesu preserve thee ! welcome, Bolingbroke...
Page 20 - And now my tongue's use is to me no more Than an unstringed viol, or a harp ; Or like a cunning instrument cas'd up, Or, being open, put into his hands That knows no touch to tune the harmony.
Page 50 - I count myself in nothing else so happy, As in a soul rememb'ring my good friends ; And, as my fortune ripens with thy love, It shall be still thy true love's recompense: My heart this covenant makes, my hand thus seals it.

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