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Seite 168 - Set you down this; And say besides, that in Aleppo once, Where a malignant and a turban'd Turk Beat a Venetian and traduced the state, I took by the throat the circumcised dog, And smote him, thus.
Seite 193 - Here she was wont to go ! and here ! and here ! Just where those daisies, pinks, and violets grow : The world may find the Spring by following her ; For other print her airy steps ne'er left : Her treading would not bend a blade of grass, Or shake the downy blow-ball from his stalk ! But like the soft west-wind she shot along, And where she went the flowers took thickest root, As she had sowed them with her odorous foot...
Seite 177 - Leave this vain sorrow. Things being at the worst begin to mend : the bee When he hath shot his sting into your hand, May then play with your eyelid.
Seite 105 - Horror of death ! Let me alone in peace. And leave my soul to me, whom it concerns ; You have no charge of it ; I feel her free : How she doth rouse and like a falcon stretch Her silver wings, as threatening Death with death ; 30 At whom I joyfully will cast her off.
Seite 87 - What would it pleasure me to have my throat cut With diamonds ? or to be smothered With cassia? or to be shot to death with pearls ? I know death hath ten thousand several doors For men to take their exits...
Seite 169 - In reality, poetry and rhetoric do not succeed in exact description so well as painting does ; their business is, to affect rather by sympathy than imitation...
Seite 204 - Didst thou ever see a lark in a cage ? Such is the soul in the body: this world is like her little turf of grass ; and the heaven o'er our heads, like her looking-glass, only gives us a miserable knowledge of the small compass of our prison.
Seite 130 - ... if I see a thing vively presented on the stage, that the glass of custom, which is comedy, is so held up to me by the poet, as I can therein view the daily examples of men's lives, and images of truth, in their manners, so drawn for my delight or profit, as I may, either way, use them...
Seite 115 - Give me a spirit that on life's rough sea Loves to have his sails fill'd with a lusty wind, Even till his sail-yards tremble, his masts crack, And his rapt ship run on her side so low, That she drinks water, and her keel ploughs air.
Seite 76 - O, by no means. Physicians that apply horseleeches to any rank swelling use to cut off their tails, that the blood may run through them the faster : let me have no train when I go to shed blood, lest it make me have a greater when I ride to the gallows.