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Seite 49 - O, how this spring of love resembleth The uncertain glory of an April day ; Which now shows all the beauty of the sun, And by and by a cloud takes all away ! Re-enter PANTHINO.
Seite 227 - tis too horrible ! The weariest and most loathed worldly life, ^ That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment Can lay on nature, is a paradise To what we fear of death.
Seite 152 - I render you ; Only, this one : — Lord Angelo is precise ; Stands at a guard with envy ; scarce confesses That his blood flows, or that his appetite Is more to bread than stone : Hence shall we see.
Seite 68 - Which come, in the night-time of sorrow and care, And bring back the features that joy used to wear. Long, long be my heart with such memories filled! Like the vase in which roses have once been distilled, — You may break, you may shatter the vase, if you will, But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.
Seite 219 - ... on this head have almost been given up, and the subject generally thought to be a matter of too high and too delicate a nature to admit of any true or intelligible discussion.
Seite 208 - To charm me with thy softness : 'tis in vain : Thou can'st no more betray, nor I be ruin'd. The hours of folly, and of fond delight, Are wasted all, and fled ; those that remain Are doom'd to weeping, anguish, and repentance.
Seite 218 - Friendship is constant in all other things Save in the office and affairs of love: Therefore all hearts in love use their own tongues; Let every eye negotiate for itself, And trust no agent; for beauty is a witch, Against whose charms faith melteth into blood.
Seite 80 - Her serious sayings darken'd to sublimity; In short, in all things she was fairly what I call A prodigy — her morning dress was dimity, Her evening silk, or, in the summer, muslin, And other stuffs, with which I won't stay puzzling. XIII She knew the Latin — that is, 'the Lord's prayer...