An Address Delivered Before the Birmingham Shakespeare Reading Club at the Annual Dinner Celebrating Shakespeare's 319th BirthdayR. Birbeck, 1885 - 13 頁 |
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第 1 到 2 筆結果,共 2 筆
第 9 頁
... Dost thou hear , Hal ? Thou knowest in the days of innocency Adam fell ; and what should poor Jack Falstaff do in the days of villany . Thow seest I have more flesh than another man , and , therefore more frailty . " In fact he is the ...
... Dost thou hear , Hal ? Thou knowest in the days of innocency Adam fell ; and what should poor Jack Falstaff do in the days of villany . Thow seest I have more flesh than another man , and , therefore more frailty . " In fact he is the ...
第 12 頁
... dost thou like the picture ? Is it not better to retain some nobleness of life , and not mar its beauties and spoil our natures in that way ? He does not say thou shalt do no murder ; he draws the sharp vivid outline of a man who has ...
... dost thou like the picture ? Is it not better to retain some nobleness of life , and not mar its beauties and spoil our natures in that way ? He does not say thou shalt do no murder ; he draws the sharp vivid outline of a man who has ...
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bade battle beauties begin bids BIRMINGHAM blood brain breathes Bright BROAD STREET brother's character charm cheerful clowns companion crimes darkened deep dishonest divers dost thou dramatic drawn dry fool earnest effect enjoy enjoyment face of nature Falstaff flight Forest forsake frailties gallons give grace grandest healthy laughter heard heart honour hour humour impatient intellect Janet Hamilton jester Juliet King lady laugh Lear leaves live lofty look Macbeth madonna meet mend minds mirth mortal motley murder night nobleness ourselves passage patched perhaps petty picture play playful poem poet poor Jack prince PRINTED BY ROBERT proof ROBERT BIRBECK sack say thou shalt scenes SHAKESPEARE soul steals stormy strong contrast sweet sympathy teaching terrible theatre thee to-morrow Touchstone trees truth Twelfth unmistakable violet virtue vivid warm wasted wearied wine wisdom wonder words writings young
熱門章節
第 12 頁 - Had I but died an hour before this chance, I had liv'da blessed time; for, from this instant, There's nothing serious in mortality : All is but toys : renown, and grace, is dead ; The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees Is left this vault to brag of.
第 10 頁 - And sable curls all silver'd o'er with white ; When lofty trees I see barren of leaves Which erst from heat did canopy the herd, And summer's green all girded up in sheaves Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard, Then of thy beauty do I question make, That thou among the wastes of time must go, Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake And die as fast as they see others grow ; And nothing 'gainst Time's scythe can make defence Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.
第 11 頁 - O gentlemen, the time of life is short ! To spend that shortness basely were too long, If life did ride upon a dial's point, Still ending at the arrival of an hour.
第 10 頁 - Would I were dead ! if God's good will were so ; For what is in this world but grief and woe? O God ! methinks it were a happy life To be no better than a homely swain; To sit upon a hill, as I do now, To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, Thereby to see the minutes how they run: How many make the hour full complete, How many hours bring about the day, How many days will finish up the year, How many years a mortal man may live.
第 10 頁 - I better brook the loss of brittle life Than those proud titles thou hast won of me ; They wound my thoughts worse than thy sword my flesh : — But thought's the slave of life, and life time's fool; And time, that takes survey of all the world, Must have a stop.
第 11 頁 - twill be eleven ; And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe, And then from hour to hour, we rot and rot, And thereby hangs a tale.
第 11 頁 - he says : Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time ; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle ! Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage And then is heard no more; it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing.