It was Marlowe: A Story of the Secret of Three Centuries

Donohue, Henneberry & Company, 1895 - 298 Seiten

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Seite 144 - I have pass'da miserable night, So full of fearful dreams, of ugly sights, That, as I am a Christian faithful man, I would not spend another such a night, Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days : So full of dismal terror was the time.
Seite 33 - But then I sigh, and with a piece of Scripture, Tell them — that God bids us do good for evil ; And thus I clothe my naked villany With old odd ends, stolen forth of holy writ ; And seem a saint, when most I play the devil.
Seite 302 - Marlowe, bathed in the Thespian springs, Had in him those brave translunary things That the first poets had ; his raptures were All air and fire, which made his verses clear ; For that fine madness still he did retain Which rightly should possess a poet's brain.
Seite 300 - It is a common practice now-a-days, amongst a sort of shifting companions, that run through every art and thrive by none, to leave the trade of noverint, whereto they were born, and busy themselves with the endeavours of art, that could scarcely latinise their neck-verse if they should have need : yet English Seneca read by candlelight yields many good sentences, as
Seite 13 - Hyperion's curls, the front of Jove himself, An eye like Mars, to threaten and command, A station like the herald Mercury New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill, A combination and a form indeed, Where every god did seem to set his seal, To give the world assurance of a man.
Seite 238 - That run-away's eyes may wink ; and Romeo Leap to these arms, untalk'd of, and unseen ! — Lovers can see to do their amorous rites By their own beauties: or, if love be blind, It best agrees with night. — Come...
Seite 203 - What art thou, that usurp'st this time of night, Together with that fair and warlike form In which the majesty of buried Denmark Did sometimes march ? by heaven I charge thee, speak.
Seite 301 - Her burning faculties, and with the wings Of thy unsphered flame visit'st the springs Of spirits immortal ! Now (as swift as Time Doth follow Motion) find th' eternal clime Of his free soul, whose living subject stood Up to the chin in the Pierian flood, And drunk to me half this...
Seite 308 - Black is the beauty of the brightest day! The golden ball of heaven's eternal fire, That danced with glory on the silver waves, Now wants the fuel that inflamed his beams, And all with faintness and for foul disgrace He binds his temples with a frowning cloud, Ready to darken earth with endless night.
Seite 25 - A litter hast thou ? Lay me in a hearse, And to the gates of hell convey me hence; Let Pluto's bells ring out my fatal knell, And hags howl for my death at Charon's shore, For friends hath Edward none but these, And these must die under a tyrant's sword.

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