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Acts Battle bear better bill blood born Brutus Cæsar comes crown dead dear death deeds Deut died doth dream earth Easter Eclipse England eyes fair fall father fear fool give gold grief hand hath head hear heart heaven Henry honour hour John judge Kings Last leave Lent live look Lord lost Luke Mark married Matt means Measure Moon Moon's CHANGES Morn nature never night noble o'er opened Partial Eclipse peace play poor present Prince Quarter Queen Shakespeare sleep soul sound speak spirit Sunday aft sweet tears tell thee thing thou thou hast thought Thousand tongue Trinity true unto virtue wind
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Strana 59 - INGRATITUDE. BLOW, blow, thou winter wind, Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude ; Thy tooth is not so keen, Because thou art not seen, Although thy breath be rude. Heigh-ho ! sing, heigh-ho ! unto the green holly: [folly: Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere Then heigh-ho, the holly ! This life is most jolly.
Strana 46 - love him once, not without cause : What cause withholds you then, to mourn for him? O judgement ! thou art fled to brutish beasts, And men have lost their reason. Bear with me ; My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar, And I must pause till it come back to me. Julius
Strana 55 - At length broke under me and now has left Weary and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me. Vain, pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye : I feel my heart new open'd. O how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes
Strana 50 - clod ; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside In thrilling region of thick-ribbed ice ; To be imprison'd in the viewless winds. And blown with restless violence round about The pendent world ; or to be worse than worst Of those that lawless and
Strana 55 - Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries ; but thou hast forced me, Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman. Let's dry our eyes : and thus far hear me, Cromwell ; And, when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And sleep in dull cold marble, where no
Strana 50 - and she comes In shape no bigger than an agate stone On the fore-finger of an alderman, Drawn with a team of little atomies Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep ; Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners* you. The cover of the wings of grasshoppers, The traces of the smallest spider's web, The
Strana 46 - were living and die all slaves, than that Caesar were dead to live all free men ? As Caesar loved me I weep for him ; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it ; as he was valiant, I honour him : but, as he was ambitious, I slew him. There