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Seite 547 - If it be you that stir these daughters' hearts Against their father, fool me not so much To bear it tamely ; touch me with noble anger ! O, let not women's weapons, water-drops, Stain my man's cheeks! — No, you unnatural hags, I will have such revenges on you both, That all the world shall — I will do such things, — What they are, yet I know not ; but they shall be The terrors of the earth.
Seite 606 - A sweet attractive kind of grace ; A full assurance given by looks ; Continual comfort in a face, The lineaments of Gospel books — I trow that count'nance cannot lye, Whose thoughts are legible in the eye.
Seite 548 - Stain my man's cheeks! — No, you unnatural hags, I will have such revenges on you both, That all the world shall — I will do such things,— What they are, yet I know not ; but they shall be The terrors of the earth. You think, I'll weep; No, I'll not weep: — I have full cause of weeping; but this heart Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws, Or ere I'll weep : — O, fool, I shall go mad ! [Exeunt LEAR, GLOSTER, KENT, and Fool Corn.
Seite 11 - Brief, brave, and glorious was his young career, — His mourners were two hosts, his friends and foes ; And fitly may the stranger lingering here Pray for his gallant spirit's bright repose ; For he was Freedom's champion, one of those, The few in number, who had not o'erstept 550 The charter to chastise which she bestows On such as wield her weapons ; he had kept The whiteness of his soul, and thus men o'er him wept.
Seite 498 - Then Abner Dean of Angel's raised a point of order, when A chunk of old red sandstone took him in the abdomen ; And he smiled a kind of sickly smile, and curled up on the floor, And the subsequent proceedings interested him no more.
Seite 447 - Heaven from all creatures hides the book of Fate, All but the page prescribed, their present state: From brutes what men, from men what spirits know: Or who could suffer being here below? The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed to-day, Had he thy reason, would he skip and play? Pleased to the last, he crops the flowery food, And licks the hand just raised to shed his blood.
Seite 547 - He will never march ; an' please your honour, in this world, said the corporal : He will march; said my uncle Toby, rising up, from the side of the bed, with one shoe off : An' please your honour, said the corporal, he will never march but to his grave : He shall march, cried my uncle Toby, marching the foot which had a shoe on, though without advancing an inch, he shall march to his regiment.
Seite 180 - Thou art, of what sort the eternal life of the saints was to be, which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive.
Seite 384 - THE BODY of BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, Printer, (like the cover of an old book, its contents torn out, and stript of its lettering and gilding) lies here food for worms ; yet the work itself shall not be lost, for it will (as he believed) appear once more in a new and more beautiful edition, corrected and amended by THE AUTHOR.