 | Edith P. Hazen - 1992 - 1172 str.
...Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud, Puts the wretch that lies in woe In remembrance of a shroud. y bodies we conceive; 3 Pleasures are not, if they last; In their passing is their best sprite. In the church-way paths to glide: (V, i) CH; ChTr; CTC; E1L; LiTB; MoShBr; OBSC; OxBoLi; TrGrPo;... | |
 | Herbert R. Coursen - 1993 - 212 str.
...Nod into a sea of dew. As Roger Warren says, The waking was not odd as I watched it. As Puck said, "Now it is the time of night / That the graves, all gaping wide, / Every one lets forth his sprite / In the churchway paths to glide" (V. 1.374-77), the others rose from their dim-semicircle... | |
 | Gunnar Sorelius - 1993 - 228 str.
[ Omlouváme se, ale obsah této stránky je nepřístupný. ] | |
 | 1995 - 108 str.
...Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud, Puts the wretch that lies in woe In remembrance of a shroud. Now it is the time of night That the graves, all gaping wide, Every one lets forth his sprite, In the church-way paths to glide. And we fairies, that do run By the triple Hecate's team,... | |
 | William Shakespeare, Lindsay Price - 1996 - 44 str.
...hold we this solemnity In nightly revels and new jollity. They all exit. PUCK enters with a broom. Now it is the time of night That the graves, all gaping wide, Every one lets forth his sprite In the churchway paths to glide; And we fairies that do run By the triple Hecate's team From... | |
 | Pauline Kiernan - 1998 - 236 str.
...Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud, Puts the wretch that lies in woe In remembrance of a shroud. Now it is the time of night That the graves, all gaping wide, Every one lets forth his sprite In the church-way paths to glide. (Vi. 361-8) There is no question, then, of putting the Dream... | |
 | Arthur Graham - 1997 - 244 str.
...Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud, Puts the wretch that lies in woe In remembrance of a shroud. Now it is the time of night That the graves, all gaping wide, Every one lets forth his sprite In the churchway paths to glide; And we fairies that do run By the triple Hecate's team Prom... | |
| |
Now it is the time of night, That the graves, all gaping wide, Every one lets forth his sprite, In the church-way paths to glide. 
