內容
| 246 | |
| 250 | |
| 251 | |
| 253 | |
| 257 | |
| 274 | |
| 278 | |
| 305 | |
| 159 | |
| 163 | |
| 168 | |
| 171 | |
| 182 | |
| 185 | |
| 191 | |
| 195 | |
| 197 | |
| 203 | |
| 205 | |
| 210 | |
| 224 | |
| 228 | |
| 230 | |
| 240 | |
| 317 | |
| 319 | |
| 323 | |
| 325 | |
| 332 | |
| 337 | |
| 344 | |
| 347 | |
| 350 | |
| 354 | |
| 357 | |
| 360 | |
| 363 | |
| 366 | |
| 368 | |
| 371 | |
其他版本 - 查看全部
常見字詞
admiration beauty Canterbury Canterbury Tales Chapman character Chaucer colour comedy comic contemporaries Coriolanus Court death delight doth drama dramatist Elizabethan English expression eyes Faery Queen fair fancy favour feeling flowers genius gentle Gorboduc Greene Hamlet hath heart heaven Henry Hero and Leander heroes honour humour imagination imitation Italian Jonson King Knight's Tale lady language less living look Lord lovers ludicrous Lydgate Marlowe Marston mind Mirror for Magistrates moral nature never night passages passion personages Phaeton's plays poem poet poet's poetical poetry Prince probably revenge rhymes Richard Richard II romance satire scene seems Shakespeare Shakespeare's sonnets shepherds sing song sonnets soul Spenser spirit stage stanza Stratford supposed Surrey Surrey's sweet tale Tamburlaine tears tender thee things thou tion Tottel's Miscellany tragedy tragic translation Troilus Trouvères Venus Venus and Adonis verse wonder words write written wrote Wyat youth
熱門章節
第 280 頁 - 0 for a Muse of fire, that would ascend The brightest heaven of invention ! A kingdom for a stage, princes to act And monarchs to behold the swelling scene ! Then should the warlike Harry, like himself Assume the port of Mars ; and at his heels Leash'd in like hounds, should famine, sword, and fire Crouch for employment.
第 200 頁 - Not less exquisite is Rosalind's Madrigal:— " Love in my bosom like a bee Doth suck his sweet: Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amid my tender breast, My kisses arc his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my
第 289 頁 - Rom. Amen, amen ! but come what sorrow can, It cannot countervail the exchange of joy That one short minute gives me in her sight: Do thou but close our hands with holy words, Then love-devouring death do what he dare ; It is enough I may but call her mine.
第 303 頁 - Arlh. No, in good sooth : the fire is dead with grief, Being create for comfort, to be used In undeserved extremes; see else yourself; There is no malice in this burning coal; The breath of heaven has blown his spirit out And strewed repentant ashes on his head. Hubert.
第 309 頁 - charity : Yet notwithstanding, being incensed, he's flint, As humorous as winter and as sudden As flaws congealed in the spring of day, His temper, therefore, must be well observed : Chide him for faults, and do it reverently, When you perceive his blood inclined to mirth ; But being moody, give him line and scope.
第 279 頁 - Macb. There's comfort yet; they are assailable : Then be thou jocund ; ere the bat hath flown His cloister'd flight, ere to black Hecat's summons The shard-borne beetle with his drowsy hums Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done A deed of dreadful note. Lady
第 375 頁 - For never-resting Time leads Summer on To hideous Winter, and confounds him there : Then, were not summer's distillation left, A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass, Beauty's effect with beauty were bereft, Nor it nor no remembrance what it was. But flowers distill'd, though they with Winter meet, Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet. Here
第 377 頁 - Spring :— From you have I been absent in the spring, When proud-pied April, dress'd in all his trim, Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing, That heavy Saturn laugh'd and leap'd with him.
第 303 頁 - in your eyes ; And like a dog that is compelled to fight. Snatch at his master that doth tarre him on. All things that you should use to do me wrong Deny their office : only you do lack That mercy which fierce fire and iron extends, Creatures of note for
第 357 頁 - Sir. be of comfort. Brach. 0 thou soft natural death, that art joint-twin To sweetest slumber ! no rough-bearded comet Stares on thy mild departure ; the dull owl Beats not against thy casement; the hoarse wolf Scents not thy carrion. Pity winds thy corse Whilst horror waits on princes. Vittoria Corombona. I am lost for ever