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acquaintance admirable beauty beſt better born breath certainly common death doth doubt earth Ends eyes fair fall father fear feel fire firſt fortune give gold Hamlet hand hard hath head hear heav'ns Henry IV himſelf hiſtory honour imagination itſelf jewel John Jonſon juſt kind King Henry LABOUR latter learning live look lord loſe Macbeth maid manner mean Meaſure Meaſure for Meaſure Merchant of Venice moſt motion muſic Nature never night noble occaſion perſon play pleaſed poor queen reaſon rich round ſaid ſame ſee ſeem ſenſe ſeveral Shakſpeare ſhall ſhe ſhould Sir John ſleep ſome ſounds ſtill ſtrange Stratford ſuch ſweet thee themſelves thing thoſe thou art Thou haſt thought thouſand thyſelf Troilus true Turning uſe virtues wear whoſe William D'Avenant wind writings written young youth
Page 21 - The lunatic, the lover and the poet Are of imagination all compact. One sees more devils than vast hell can hold; That is the madman. The lover, all as frantic, Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt. The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven, And as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing A local habitation, and a name.
Page 25 - And then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress
Page 23 - To monarchize, be fear'd and kill with looks, Infusing him with self and vain conceit, As if this flesh which walls about our life Were brass impregnable, and...
Page 16 - To-day, my lord of Amiens and myself Did steal behind him, as he lay along Under an oak, whose antique root peeps out Upon the brook that brawls along this wood...
Page 21 - Your face, my thane, is as a book, where men May read strange -matters: — to beguile the time, Look like the time ; bear welcome in your eye, Your hand, your tongue : look like the innocent flower, But be the serpent under it...
Page 14 - But nature makes that mean; so over that art, Which you say adds to nature, is an art That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry A gentler scion to the wildest stock, And make conceive a bark of baser kind By bud of nobler race. This is an art Which does mend nature — change it rather; but The art itself is nature.
Page 15 - tis better to be lowly born, And range with humble livers in content, Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief, And wear a golden sorrow.
Page 34 - These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights, That give a name to every fixed star, Have no more profit of their shining nights, Than those that walk, and wot not what they are.