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Adelaide Alfred Austin Amphibrach Anapest angels arms beauty blood brave breast breath bright Brutus Cædmon Cæsar Christian cloud colors Coriolanus dark dead dear death dream of home earth elocution emotion Examples expression eyes fall Falstaff farewell Father Ryan fear feet forgive friends gesture glory gone grace grave hand Hark hath head hear heard heart heaven hope hour Iambus Ina Coolbrith J. C. Mangan John Boyle O'Reilly Julius Cæsar Kenelm Henry Digby king light lips living look Lord Merchant of Venice Moore mother Narwhale nature never night o'er ORAL CONSONANT pause peace poet Pope pray prayer Procter Queen rhythm roar Shakespeare shore sigh silence sing sleep sorrow soul sound speak Spondee stars sweet sword syllable accented tears tell thee thought thunder to-day tone tongue Trochee verse voice weary wind words
Seite 244 - In sooth, I know not why I am so sad : It wearies me ; you say it wearies you ; But how I caught it, found it, or came by it, What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born, I am to learn ; And such a want-wit sadness makes of me. That I have much ado to know myself.
Seite 181 - This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd 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, 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...
Seite 146 - Is this a dagger, which I see before me, The handle toward my hand ? Come, let me clutch thee: I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling, as to sight? or art thou but A dagger of the mind; a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain ? I see thee yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw.
Seite 247 - Let me play the fool : With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come ; And let my liver rather heat with wine, Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. Why should a man, whose blood is warm within, Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster...
Seite 210 - tis true, this god did shake : His coward lips did from their colour fly ; And that same eye whose bend doth awe the world Did lose his lustre : I did hear him groan : Ay, and that tongue of his that bade the Romans Mark him, and write his speeches in their books, , Alas ! it cried, " Give me some drink, Titinius,
Seite 240 - O ! such a deed As from the body of contraction plucks The very soul, and sweet religion makes A rhapsody of words ; heaven's face doth glow, Yea, this solidity and compound mass, With tristful visage, as against the doom, Is thought-sick at the act. Queen. Ay me ! what act, That roars so loud and thunders in the index ? Ham. Look here, upon this picture, and on this ; The counterfeit presentment of two brothers.
Seite 221 - ... accent of Christians nor the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted and bellowed that I have thought some of nature's journeymen had made men and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.
Seite 115 - Angels and ministers of grace defend us! Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damn'd, Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell, Be thy intents wicked or charitable, Thou com'st in such a questionable shape, That I will speak to thee: I'll call thee Hamlet, King, father, royal Dane, O, answer me!
Seite 150 - Shylock, we would have moneys:' you say so; You, that did void your rheum upon my beard, And foot me as you spurn a stranger cur Over your threshold; moneys is your suit. What should I say to you? Should I not say 'Hath a dog money? is it possible A cur can lend three thousand ducats?
Seite 157 - 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...