The Life of Henry the Eighth

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Macmillan, 1912 - 168 Seiten
 

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Seite 131 - She shall be lov'd and fear'd : her own shall bless her : Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn, And hang their heads with sorrow : good grows with her : In her days, every man shall eat in safety Under his own vine what he plants, and sing The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours : God shall be truly known ; and those about her From her shall read the perfect ways of honour, And by those claim their greatness, not by blood.
Seite 87 - 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, where no mention Of me more must be heard of, say, I taught thee...
Seite 97 - 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 84 - 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 87 - Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries; but thou hast forc'd 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, where no mention Of me more must be heard...
Seite 98 - He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one ; Exceeding wise, fair-spoken, and persuading : Lofty and sour to them that loved him not ; But to those men that sought him sweet as summer.
Seite 98 - He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one; Exceeding wise, fair spoken and persuading: Lofty and sour to them that lov'd him not, But to those men that sought him, sweet as summer. And though he were unsatisfied in getting, Which was a sin, yet in bestowing, madam, He was most princely...
Seite 131 - Peace, plenty, love, truth, terror That were the servants to this chosen infant, Shall then be his, and like a vine grow to him : Wherever the bright sun of heaven shall shine, His honour and the greatness of his name Shall be, and make new nations...
Seite 86 - Long in his highness' favour, and do justice For truth's sake and his conscience; that his bones, When he has run his course and sleeps in blessings, May have a tomb of orphans
Seite 84 - 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 : Act III, Sc. ii] And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again.

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