 | William Shakespeare - 1850 - 484 páginas
...they grew ? Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead ? No, neither he, nor his compeers by night Giving him...affable familiar ghost Which nightly gulls him with intelligence,1 As victors, of my silence cannot boast ; 1 was not sick of any fear from thence. But... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1851 - 446 páginas
...they grew ? Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead ? No, neither he, nor his compeers by night Giving him...affable familiar ghost Which nightly gulls him with intelligence,1 As victors, of my silence cannot boast ; I was not sick of any fear from thence. But... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1851 - 624 páginas
...they grew ? Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead ? No, neither he, nor his compeers by night Giving him...of any fear from thence. But when your countenance fil'db up his line, Then lack'd I matter ; that enfeebled mine. LXXXVII. Farewell 1 thou art too dear... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1852 - 546 páginas
...nor his compeers by night He, nor that affable familiar ghost Giving him aid, my verse astonished. Which nightly gulls him with intelligence,* As victors,...of any fear from thence. But when your countenance fill'd up his line, Then lack'd I matter; that enfeebled mine. LXXXVII. Farewell! thou art too dear... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1852 - 548 páginas
...they grew ? Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead ? No, neither he, nor his compeers by night Giving him aid, my verse asiomshed. si~ He, nor that affable familiar gfipSt Which nightly gulls him witli intelligence,* As... | |
 | William Shakespeare, John Payne Collier - 1853 - 484 páginas
...they grew? Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead ? No, neither he, nor his compeers by night Giving him...of any fear from thence : But when your countenance filTd up his line, Then lack'd I matter ; that enfeebled mine. LXXXVII. Farewell : thou art too dear... | |
 | Samuel Taylor Coleridge - 1853 - 764 páginas
...they grew f W.BS it his spirit, by spirits tnught to write Above a mortal pitch that struck me dead ? No, neither he, nor his compeers by night Giving him...gulls him with intelligence, As victors of my silence can not boast ; I was not sick of any fear from tKence l But when your countenance fill'd up his line,... | |
 | Samuel Taylor Coleridge - 1853 - 622 páginas
...neither he, nor his compeers by night Giving him 'nil, my verse astonished, . He. nor that arTuble familiar ghost. Which nightly gulls him with intelligence,...As victors of my silence cannot boast ; I was not Bick of any fonr from thence! But when your countenance HUM up hi« line. Then lack'd I matter, that... | |
 | Samuel Taylor Coleridge - 1853 - 760 páginas
...affable familiar ghost, Which nightly gulls him with intelligence, As victors of my silence can not boast; I was not sick of any fear from thence! But when your countenance fill'd up his line, Then lack'd I matter, that enfeebled mine. S. LXXXVI. In Spenser, indeed, we trace... | |
 | Samuel Taylor Coleridge - 1854 - 766 páginas
...they grew I Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write Above a mortal pitch that struck me dead ? No, neither he, nor his compeers by night Giving him...gulls him with intelligence, As victors of my silence can not boast; I was not sick of any fear from thence ! But when your countenance fill'd up his line,... | |
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Was it the proud full sail of his great verse, Bound for the prize of all too precious you, That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse, Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew? Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write Above a mortal pitch,... 
