The Life of King Henry the Eighth: Complete and Unabridged

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G.P. Putnam, 1893 - 214 Seiten

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Seite 156 - So went to bed : where eagerly his sickness Pursued him still ; and, three nights after this, About the hour of eight, (which he himself Foretold should be his last, ) full of repentance, Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows, He gave his honours to the world again, His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace.
Seite 93 - Every thing that heard him play, Even the billows of the sea, Hung their heads, and then lay by In sweet music is such art, Killing care and grief of heart Fall asleep, or hearing, die.
Seite 158 - And though he were unsatisfied in getting, (Which was a sin,) yet, in bestowing, madam, He was most princely : Ever witness for him Those twins of learning, that he...
Seite 139 - Wol, There was the weight that pull'd me down. O Cromwell, The king has gone beyond me: all my glories In that one woman I have lost for ever...
Seite 135 - I have ventured, Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory, But far beyond my depth : my high-blown pride At length broke under me, and now has left me Weary, and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.
Seite 141 - Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not...
Seite 127 - s holiness. Nay then, farewell! I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness; And from that full meridian of my glory, I haste now to my setting: I shall fall Like a bright exhalation in the evening, And no man see me more.
Seite 136 - O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours ! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have; And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again.
Seite 141 - Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition : By that sin fell the angels ; how can man, then, The image of his Maker, hope to win by 't ? Love thyself last : cherish those hearts that hate thee : Corruption wins not more than honesty.

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