Shakspeare's Sommernachtstraum erläutert

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Page 120 - Now the wasted brands do glow, Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud, Puts the wretch that lies in woe In remembrance of a shroud. 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...
Page 19 - 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. Such tricks hath strong imagination, That, if it would but apprehend some joy, It comprehends some bringer of that joy; •• Or in the night, imagining some fear, How easy is a bush supposed a bear?
Page 37 - The best in this kind are but shadows ; and the worst are no worse, if imagination amend them.
Page 119 - The moone shines faire and bright, ' And the owle hollows, Mortals now take their rests Upon their pillows : The bats abroad likewise, And the night raven, Which doth use for to call Men to Death's haven.
Page 94 - Historic of the Merchant of Venice, with the extreame crueltie of Shylocke the Jewe towards the sayd Merchant in cutting a just pound of his flesh ; and the obtayning of Portia by the choyse of three chests : as it hath beene divers times acted by the Lord Chamberlaine his Servants.
Page 119 - Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud, Puts the wretch that lies in woe In remembrance of a shroud. 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 : And we...
Page 113 - And so the time beguile ; And if the moon doth hide her head, The glow-worm lights us home to bed. " On tops of dewy grass So nimbly do we pass. The young and tender stalk Ne'er bends when we do walk ; Yet in the morning may be seen Where we the night before have been.
Page 127 - Philomel with melody Sing in our sweet lullaby, Lulla, lulla, lullaby: lulla, lulla, lullaby; Never harm, nor spell, nor charm, Come our lovely lady nigh ; So, good night—with lullaby.
Page 119 - Sometimes I meete them like a man ; Sometimes, an ox, sometimes, a hound ; And to a horse I turn me can ; To trip and trot about them round. But if, to ride, My backe they stride, More swift than wind away I go, Ore hedge and lands, Thro...
Page 116 - In several shapes he'd gull the world, thus madly did he live. Sometimes a cripple he would seeme, sometimes a souldier brave : Sometimes a fox, sometimes a hare ; brave pastimes would he have. Sometimes an owle he'd...

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