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Pagina 542 - Love thyself last : cherish those hearts that hate thee ; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not : Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's ; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr.
Pagina 535 - The letter, as I live, with all the business I writ to his 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.
Pagina 351 - Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York ; And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Pagina 541 - 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, Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory, And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour, Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in ,• A sure and safe one, though thy master missed it.
Pagina 542 - tis the king's : my robe, And my integrity to heaven, is all I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell ! Had I but served my God with half the zeal I served my king, he would not in mine age Have left me naked to mine enemies.
Pagina 265 - Would I were dead! if God's good will were so; For what is in this world but grief and woe? O God! methinks it were a happy life, To be no better than a homely swain; To sit upon a hill, as I do now, To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, Thereby to see the minutes how they run, How many make the hour full complete; How many hours bring about the day; How many days will finish up the year; How many years a mortal man may live. When this is known, then to divide the times: So many hours must...
Pagina 373 - Inestimable stones, unvalu'd jewels, All scatter'd in the bottom of the sea : Some lay in dead men's skulls ; and in those holes Where eyes did once inhabit there were crept, — As 'twere in scorn of eyes, — reflecting gems, That woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep, And mock'd the dead bones that lay scatter'd by.
Pagina 446 - What do I fear? Myself? There's none else by. Richard loves Richard: that is, I am I. Is there a murderer here?
Pagina 541 - So good, so noble, and so true a master ? Bear witness, all that have not hearts of iron, With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord. The king shall have my service ; but my prayers For ever and for ever shall be yours.
Pagina 569 - With all the virtues that attend the good, Shall still be doubled on her : truth shall nurse her, Holy and heavenly thoughts still counsel her : 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...