A Shakespearian Grammar: An Attempt to Illustrate Some Diffeences Between Elizabethan and Modern English

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Macmillan, 1872 - 511 pages

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Page 187 - That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west; Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
Page 298 - As watchman to my heart. But, good my brother, Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven, Whilst, like a puffd and reckless libertine, Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads And recks not his own rede.
Page 328 - Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries; but thou hast forced 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 of, say, I taught thee...
Page 416 - Could great men thunder As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet, For every pelting, petty officer, Would use his heaven for thunder ; Nothing but thunder. Merciful heaven ! Thou rather with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt Split'st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak, Than the soft myrtle...
Page 434 - Which would be worn now in their newest gloss, Not cast aside so soon. Lady M. Was the hope drunk Wherein you dress'd yourself ? hath it slept since ? And wakes it now, to look so green and pale At what it did so freely ? From this time Such I account thy love. Art thou...
Page 148 - There dwelt a Citizen of sober fame, A plain good man, and Balaam was his name ; Religious, punctual, frugal, and so forth; His word would pass for more than he was worth.
Page 287 - In the corrupted currents of this world Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice, And oft 'tis seen the wicked prize itself Buys out the law: but 'tis not so above; There is no shuffling, there the action lies In his true nature, and we ourselves compell'd Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults To give in evidence.
Page 414 - A wave o' the sea, that you might ever do Nothing but that; move still, still so, and own No other function. Each your doing, So singular in each particular, Crowns what you are doing in the present deeds, That all your acts are queens.
Page 435 - HUNG be the heavens with black , yield day to night! Comets, importing change of times and states, Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky ; And with them scourge the bad revolting stars, That have consented unto Henry's death ! Henry the fifth, too famous to live long ! England ne'er lost a king of so much worth.
Page 190 - Now it is the time of night, That the graves, all gaping wide, Every one lets forth his sprite, In the church-way paths to glide.

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