Essays on the drama

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Page 107 - Out of the eater came forth meat, and out of the strong came forth sweetness.
Page 108 - Slow, slow, fresh fount, keep time with my salt tears; Yet slower, yet, O faintly gentle springs: List to the heavy part the music bears, Woe weeps out her division, when she sings. Droop herbs and flowers; Fall grief in showers, Our beauties are not ours; O, I could still, Like, melting snow upon some craggy hill, Drop, drop, drop, drop, Since nature's pride is, now, a withered daffodil.
Page 260 - Becker's Gallus ; or, Roman Scenes of the Time of Augustus, with Notes and Excursus.
Page 97 - My love is fair, my love is gay, As fresh as bin the flowers in May, And of my love my roundelay, My merry, merry, merry roundelay, Concludes with Cupid's curse,— They that do change old love for new, Pray gods they change for worse ! Ambo simul.
Page 98 - gainst time and age hath ever spurned, But spurned in vain ; youth waneth by increasing : Beauty, strength, youth, are flowers but fading seen ; Duty, faith, love, are roots, and ever green. His helmet now shall make a hive for bees, And, lovers...
Page 100 - All things to end are made; The plague full swift goes by; I am sick, I must die. Lord have mercy on us! , Beauty is but a flower Which wrinkles will devour : Brightness falls from the air; Queens have died young and fair; Dust hath closed Helen's eye; I am sick, I must die. Lord have mercy on us! Strength stoops unto the grave: Worms feed on Hector brave; Swords may not fight with fate; Earth still holds ope her gate; 'Come ! come !
Page 255 - Life's a Dream : The Great Theatre of the World. With an Essay on his Life and Genius. Fcap. 8vo.
Page 96 - Fair and fair and twice so fair, As fair as any may be ; Thy love is fair for thee alone, And for no other lady.
Page 116 - And tie to my forehead a waxing moon; I course the fleet stag, unkennel the fox, And chase the wild goats o'er summits of rocks; With shouting and hooting we pierce through the sky, And Echo turns hunter, and doubles the cry.
Page 183 - All perishable ! like the electric fire, But strike the frame, and, as they strike, expire ; Incense too pure a bodied flame to bear, Its fragrance charms the sense, and blends with air.

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