Shakespeare's Comedy of Love's Labour's Lost

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J.M. Dent & Company, 1894 - 139 Seiten
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Seite 87 - A jest's prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it...
Seite 26 - Biron they call him ; but a merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal : His eye begets occasion for his wit ; For every object that the one doth catch The other turns to a mirth-moving jest...
Seite 89 - Tu-whit, tu-who ! a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow, And coughing drowns the parson's saw, And birds sit brooding in the snow, And Marian's...
Seite 39 - From women's eyes this doctrine I derive: They sparkle still the right Promethean fire; They are the books, the arts, the academes, That show, contain, and nourish all the world...
Seite 38 - But love, first learned in a lady's eyes, Lives not alone immured in the brain, But with the motion of all elements Courses as swift as thought in every power, And gives to every power a double power Above their functions and their offices.
Seite 39 - Love's feeling is more soft and sensible Than are the tender horns of cockled snails ; Love's tongue proves dainty Bacchus gross in taste: For valour, is not Love a Hercules, Still climbing trees in the Hesperides? Subtle as Sphinx; as sweet and musical As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair; And when Love speaks, the voice of all the gods Make heaven drowsy with the harmony.
Seite 5 - Save base authority from others' books. • These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights, That give a name to every fixed star, Have no more profit of their shining nights, Than those that walk, and wot not what they are.
Seite 89 - When shepherds pipe on oaten straws, And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks, When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws, And maidens bleach their summer smocks, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men ; for thus sings he, Cuckoo ; Cuckoo, cuckoo : O word of fear, 920 Unpleasing to a married ear ! WINTER.
Seite iv - Lost! I once did see a play Ycleped so, so called to my paine, Which I to heare to my small joy did stay, Giving attendance on my froward dame: My misgiving mind presaging to me ill, Yet was I drawn to see it 'gainst my will.
Seite 1 - Th' endeavour of this present breath may buy That honour, which shall bate his scythe's keen edge, And make us heirs of all eternity.

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