The Temple Shakespeare, Volume 14

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J.M. Dent and Company, 1895
 

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Pagina 97 - 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. Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye ; I feel my heart new opened : O, how wretched Is that poor man, that hangs on princes...
Pagina 101 - 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 honor...
Pagina 101 - 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. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues : be just, and fear not.
Pagina 97 - Farewell, a long farewell to all my greatness ! This is the state of man ; to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him : The third day comes a frost, a killing frost ; And, — when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a ripening, — nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.
Pagina 97 - 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.
Pagina 100 - O my lord! Must I then, leave you? must I needs forego 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 147 - Who from the sacred ashes of her honour Shall star-like rise, as great in fame as she was, And so stand fix'd : 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...
Pagina 98 - I am fall'n indeed. Crom. How does your grace? Wol. Why, well; Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell. I know myself now ; and I feel within me A peace above all earthly dignities, A still and quiet conscience.
Pagina 91 - 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 100 - I am a poor fallen man, unworthy now To be thy lord and master : Seek the king; That sun, I pray, may never set! I have told him What, and how true thou art: he will advance thee; Some little memory of me will stir him, (I know his noble nature,) not to let Thy hopeful service perish too...

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