大家的评论 - 撰写书评
arms beauty become bells Bingen blood breast breath bright brow cents cheek child cold complete Damon Dancing dare dark dead dear death delight dost doth dying earth eyes face fair fall false father fearful fire flowers Fred Full give given gone grace ground Hair hand hast hath head hear heart heaven hope hundred husband instructions Italy judge keep kind King lady leave light lips live look moon mother nature never night o'er once pale peace plain play practical pray Price rest Ring Romeo rose seemed side silent sorrow soul sound speak sweet teach tears tell thee thine thing thou thought true turn Twas voice waters wave Widow wild wind Wonders writing young
第74页 - Like the poor cat i' the adage ? Macb. Prithee, peace: I dare do all that may become a man; Who dares do more, is none. Lady M. What beast was't then, That made you break this enterprise to me ? When you durst do it, then you were a man; And, to be more than what you were, you would Be so much more the man.
第25页 - I'll frown and be perverse and say thee nay, So thou wilt woo; but else, not for the world. In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond, And therefore thou mayst think my haviour light: But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true Than those that have more cunning to be strange.
第97页 - Came thro' the jaws of Death Back from the mouth of Hell, All that was left of them, Left of six hundred.
第60页 - HEAR the sledges with the bells, Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells! How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night! While the stars that oversprinkle All the heavens seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight...
第73页 - As thou art in desire ? Wouldst thou have that Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life, And live a coward in thine own esteem, Letting "I dare not" wait upon "I would," Like the poor cat i
第36页 - And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail, And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal; And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword, Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!
第14页 - Jane ; In bed she moaning lay, Till God released her of her pain ; And then she went away. " So in the churchyard she was laid ; And, when the grass was dry, Together round her grave we played, My brother John and I. " And when the ground was white with snow And I could run and slide, My brother John was forced to go, And he lies by her side.
第29页 - Keen as are the arrows Of that silver sphere, Whose intense lamp narrows In the white dawn clear, Until we hardly see, we feel that it is there.
第29页 - What thou art, we know not ; What is most like thee ? From rainbow clouds there flow not Drops so bright to see, As from thy presence showers a rain of melody. Like a poet hidden In the light of thought, Singing hymns unbidden, Till the world is wrought To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not.