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abbot Alice Annabel Lee bell bold born brave bride bright Columbus Covent Garden cried Dame Van Winkle dead dear death Duke earth eyes fair fame father fear galloped Glen green hand hast hath head hear heart heaven honour hour Inchcape Inchcape Rock Jaffier King land laugh live look Lord merry maidens Michael Drayton mind mirth mother mountain ne'er never night noble Norv o'er Penny Readings Peter Stuyvesant Pier poet poor Rienzi Rip Van Winkle Robert Nicoll rock round Saint Valentine Samuel Ferguson Seth Shakspeare song soon soul sound story sweet sword tears tell thee thine thing thou art thought Tinfoil tink tongue tree Turlough's twas village voice wife wild William Carleton William Motherwell William Wordsworth words
第117页 - But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we; Of many far wiser than we ; And neither the angels in heaven above, Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE. For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE ; And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE.
第165页 - Julius bleed for justice' sake ? What villain touch'd his body, that did stab, And not for justice? What ! shall one of us, That struck the foremost man of all this world But for supporting robbers, shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes, And sell the mighty space of our large honours For so much trash as may be grasped thus ? I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman.
第39页 - twas a pleasing fear, For I was as it were a child of thee, And trusted to thy billows far and near, And laid my hand upon thy mane — as I do here.
第6页 - I cannot see what flowers are at my feet Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet...
第166页 - I did send to you For certain sums of gold, which you denied me; — For I can raise no money by vile means : By heaven, I had rather coin my heart, And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash, By any indirection. I did send To you for gold to pay my legions, Which you denied me: Was that done like Cassius ? Should I have answer'd Caius Cassius so?
第180页 - ... twere the mirror up to nature ; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time his form and pressure. Now, this overdone, or come tardy off, though it make the unskilful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve ; the censure of which one must, in your allowance, o'erweigh a whole theatre of others.
第4页 - My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk: "Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness, — That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
第167页 - O Cassius, you are yoked with a lamb That carries anger as the flint bears fire ; Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark, And straight is cold again.
第12页 - With Spanish yew so strong, Arrows a cloth-yard long, That like to serpents stung, Piercing the weather; None from his fellow starts, But playing manly parts, And like true English hearts, Stuck close together. When down their bows they threw, And forth their bilboes...