PoetryVicesimus Knox S. Walker, 1825 |
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Página 48
... sleep- No more ; and by a sleep to say we end The heart - ache , and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to ; - ' tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish'd . To die ; —to sleep ; To sleep ! perchance to dream ; -ay , there ' s ...
... sleep- No more ; and by a sleep to say we end The heart - ache , and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to ; - ' tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish'd . To die ; —to sleep ; To sleep ! perchance to dream ; -ay , there ' s ...
Página 52
... sleep ? Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth , And start so often when thou sitt'st alone ? Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks : And giv'n my treasures , and my rights of thee , To thick - ey'd musing , and curs'd ...
... sleep ? Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth , And start so often when thou sitt'st alone ? Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks : And giv'n my treasures , and my rights of thee , To thick - ey'd musing , and curs'd ...
Página 76
... sleep , ing : [ Knock . That they did wake each other ! I stood and Get on your night - gown , lest occasion call us , heard them : [ them And show us to be watchers : be not lost But they did say their prayers , and address'd So poorly ...
... sleep , ing : [ Knock . That they did wake each other ! I stood and Get on your night - gown , lest occasion call us , heard them : [ them And show us to be watchers : be not lost But they did say their prayers , and address'd So poorly ...
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Ajax arms art thou bear beauty behold blood breast breath bright Brutus Cæsar call'd Cassius cheek Comus Cymbeline dead dear death Decius didst dost doth dread dream earth ev'ry eyes fair father fear fire flow'rs gentle give gods gold grace grief Hadad hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hell honor hour Iago king Lady light live look lord lov'd lyre Macb Macbeth Macd Marcian mind moon Muse nature ne'er never night noble nymph o'er Othello Pandarus peace pity poor pow'r pride prince Rome round seem'd SHAKSPEARE sight sleep smile soft Sonnet sorrow soul speak spide spirit stamp'd sweet sword tears tell thee thine things thou art thou hast thought thyself tongue twas Tybalt unto Vent vex'd virtue voice weep wind wretched youth