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Page 209 - NOW, my co-mates, and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp ? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court ? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, The seasons...
Page 193 - The armaments which thunderstrike the walls Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake And monarchs tremble in their capitals, The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make Their clay creator the vain title take Of lord of thee, and arbiter of war: These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake, They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar Alike the Armada's pride, or spoils of Trafalgar.
Page 211 - Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony : who, though he had no hand in his death, shall receive the benefit of his dying, a place in the commonwealth; as which of you shall not ? With this I depart, — that, as I slew my best lover for the good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself, when it shall please my country to need my death.
Page 193 - Thy waters wasted them while they were free, And many a tyrant since; their shores obey The stranger, slave, or savage; their decay Has dried up realms to deserts: — not so thou, Unchangeable, save to thy wild waves' play — Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow- — • Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now.
Page 213 - My story being done, She gave me for my pains a world of sighs : She swore, in faith, 'twas strange, 'twas passing strange ; 'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful : She wish'd she had not heard it, yet she wish'd That heaven had made her such a man ; she thank'd me, And bade me, if I had a friend that lov'd her, I should but teach him how to tell my story, And that would woo her.
Page 184 - Thus with the year Seasons return; but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine...
Page 209 - ... in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say, whirlwind of your passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smoothness. O, it offends me to the soul to hear a robustious periwigpated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings, who for the most part are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumbshows and noise : I would have such a fellow whipped for o'erdoing Termagant ; it out-herods Herod : pray you, avoid it.
Page 206 - Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host, That he which hath no stomach to this fight, Let him depart ; his passport shall be made, And crowns for convoy put into his purse : We would not die in that man's company That fears his fellowship to die with us.
Page 208 - Adam the goodliest man of men since born His sons, the fairest of her daughters Eve.
Page 185 - With all her crew complete. Toll for the brave ! Brave Kempenfelt is gone , His last sea-fight is fought, His work of glory done. It was not in the battle ; No tempest gave the shock ; She sprang no fatal leak ; She ran upon no rock His sword was in its sheath, His fingers held the pen, When Kempenfelt went down With twice four hundred men.