Shakespeare's Poems, 1640, Volume 70

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A.R. Smith, 1885 - 191 pagine
 

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Pagina 20 - O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide, The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds, That did not better for my life provide Than public means which public manners breeds. Thence comes it that my name receives a brand, And almost thence my nature is subdued To what it works in, like the dyer's hand...
Pagina 10 - ... basest clouds to ride With ugly rack on his celestial face, And from the forlorn world his visage hide, Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace. Even so my sun one early morn did shine With all-triumphant splendour on my brow; But out, alack!
Pagina 20 - Saturn laugh'd and leap'd with him. Yet nor the lays of birds nor the sweet smell Of different flowers in odour and in hue Could make me any summer's story tell, Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew ; Nor did I wonder at the...
Pagina 18 - No longer mourn for me when I am dead Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell Give warning to the world that I am fled From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell : Nay, if you read this line, remember not The hand that writ it; for I love you so That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot If thinking on me then should make you woe.
Pagina 9 - Crabbed age and youth cannot live together Youth is full of pleasance, age is full of care; Youth like summer morn, age like winter weather; Youth like summer brave, age like winter bare; Youth is full of sport, age's breath is short; Youth is nimble, age is lame; Youth is hot and bold, age is weak and cold; Youth is wild, and age is tame.
Pagina 20 - Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing, And like enough thou know'st thy estimate: The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing; My bonds in thee are all determinate. For how do I hold thee but by thy granting? And for that riches where is my deserving?
Pagina 20 - Even such a beauty as you master now. So all their praises are but prophecies Of this our time, all you prefiguring ; And for they look'd but with divining eyes, They had not skill enough* your worth to sing : For we, which now behold these present days, Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.
Pagina 5 - Desiring this man's art and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least ; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, and then my state, Like to the lark at break of day arising...
Pagina 20 - Like widow'd wombs after their lords' decease : Yet this abundant issue seem'd to me But hope of orphans and unfather'd fruit ; For summer and his pleasures wait on thee, And, thou away, the very birds are mute ; Or, if they sing, 'tis with so dull a cheer That leaves look pale, dreading the winter's near.

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