其他版本 - 查看全部
amidst amusing beauty become Ben Jonson blood brain breath Cæsar characters church comedy conscience Coriolanus Corvino court cries Cymbeline Cynthia's Revels death Desdemona divine doth dream dry idea emotions English eyes faith Falstaff fancy father fool French genius give grace Hamlet hand hath head hear heart heaven honour human husband Ibid ideas images imagination Jonson Juliet king lady living look Lord Macbeth manners married metaphors Midsummer Night's Dream Milton mind Molière moral Morose Mosca murder nature never night noble Othello passion Pilgrim's Progress play pleasure poet poetical poetry Puritan reason religion Romeo Romeo and Juliet Rosalind says Sejanus sensuality sentiments Shakspeare Shakspeare's sing sleep Sonnet Sonnet 29 Sonnet 71 soul speak spirit style sweet tell thee things thou thought tion unto vice virtue Volpone weeps whilst whole wife woman words writes
第64页 - No longer mourn for me when I am dead Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell Give warning to the world that I am fled From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell : Nay if you read this line, remember not The hand that writ it : for I love you so, That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot, If thinking on me then should make you woe.
第274页 - ... books are not absolutely dead things but do contain a potency of life in them to be as active as that soul was whose progeny they are; nay they do preserve as in a vial the purest efficacy and extraction of that living intellect that bred them. I know they are as lively and as vigorously productive as those fabulous dragons teeth, and being sown up and down may chance to spring up armed men.
第116页 - She should have died hereafter ; There would have been a time for such a word. To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, 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.
第172页 - Almighty and everlasting God, who hatest nothing that thou hast made, and dost forgive the sins of all them that are penitent ; Create and make in us new and contrite hearts, that we worthily lamenting our sins, and acknowledging our wretchedness, may obtain of thee, the God of all mercy, perfect remission and forgiveness ; through Jesus Christ our Lord.
第297页 - Created pure. But know, that in the soul Are many lesser faculties, that serve Reason as chief ; among these Fancy next Her office holds ; of all external things, Which the five watchful senses represent, She forms imaginations, aery shapes, Which Reason, joining or disjoining, frames All what we affirm or what deny, and call Our knowledge or opinion ; then retires Into her private cell, when nature rests.
第310页 - Created hugest that swim the ocean stream: Him, haply, slumbering on the Norway foam, The pilot of some small night-founder'd skiff Deeming some island, oft, as seamen tell, With fixed anchor in his scaly rind Moors by his side under the lee, while night Invests the sea, and wished morn delays...
第197页 - For so have I seen a lark rising from his bed of grass, and soaring upwards, singing as he rises, and hopes to get to heaven and climb above the clouds ; but the poor bird was beaten back with the loud sighings of an eastern wind, and his motion made irregular and inconstant, descending more at every breath of the tempest, than it could recover by the libration and frequent weighing of his wings, till the little creature was forced to sit down and pant and stay till the storm was over ; and then...
第306页 - And I turned to see the voice that spake with me. And being turned, I saw SEVEN GOLDEN CANDLESTICKS and in the midst of the Seven Candlesticks one like unto the SON OF MAN clothed with a garment down to the foot, and girt about the paps (breast) with a golden girdle.
第125页 - How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look, how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold; There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins: Such harmony is in immortal souls; But, whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we...
第244页 - I was confirmed in this opinion that he who would not be frustrate of his hope to write well hereafter in laudable things, ought himself to be a true poem ; that is, a composition and pattern of the best and honourablest things ; not presuming to sing high praises of heroic men, or famous cities, unless he have in himself the experience and the practice of all that which is praiseworthy.