Shakspere's Predecessors in the English Drama

Přední strana obálky
Smith, Elder, 1913 - Počet stran: 551
 

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Strana 416 - Triumph, my Britain, thou hast one to show, To whom all scenes of Europe homage owe. He was not of an age, but for all time!
Strana 272 - While round the armed bands Did clap their bloody hands ; He nothing common did, or mean, Upon that memorable scene, But with his keener eye The axe's edge did try ; Nor called the gods with vulgar spite To vindicate his helpless right, But bowed his comely head Down, as upon a bed.
Strana 55 - Methinks I see in my mind a noble and puissant nation rousing herself like a strong man after sleep, and shaking her invincible locks: methinks I see her as an eagle mewing her mighty youth, and kindling her undazzled eyes at the full mid-day beam...
Strana 243 - But He, her fears to cease, Sent down the meek-eyed Peace ; She, crowned with olive green, came softly sliding Down through the turning sphere His ready harbinger, With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing; And waving wide her myrtle wand, She strikes a universal peace through sea and land.
Strana 244 - I'll have Italian masks by night, Sweet speeches, comedies, and pleasing shows; And in the day, when he shall walk abroad, Like sylvan nymphs my pages shall be clad; My men, like satyrs grazing on the lawns, Shall with their goat-feet dance an antic hay...
Strana 479 - Shadowing more beauty in their airy brows Than have the white breasts of the queen of love...
Strana 26 - ... where ; To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot ; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod ; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside In thrilling...
Strana 333 - I have heard That guilty creatures sitting at a play Have by the very cunning of the scene Been struck so to the soul that presently They have proclaimed their malefactions ; For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak With most miraculous organ.
Strana 265 - He hath marks about him plenty: You shall know him among twenty. All his body is a fire, And his breath a flame entire, That, being shot like lightning in, Wounds the heart, but not the skin.
Strana 28 - O thou soft natural death, that art joint twin To sweetest slumber ! no rough-bearded comet Stares on thy mild departure ; the dull owl Beats not against thy casement ; the hoarse wolf Scents not thy carrion : pity winds thy corse, Whilst horror waits on princes.

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