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army Balaam behold bliss bosom breast breath Brutus C H A Cæfar Cassius CHAP Dæmons death Dendermond doth earth elocution endeavour eternal eyes facred faid my uncle fame fasety fate father fool fortune foul Fram give Gods grace Grongar Hill hand happy hath head hear heart heav'n honour hope hour Iago ibid King labour lise live look Lord Macd Michael Cassio mind mould Muse nature Nature's never night noble Nymph o'er once ossice pain Parliaments passion peace persection pity pleasure poor pow'r praise Scythians sear seel sellow Shakespear shew sield sind Sir John sire sirst smile soul speak spirit Sterl sweet Syphax tears tell Theana thee thing thou art thou hast thoufand thought thro Trim truth uncle Toby virtue voice wisdom wise words youth
Page 371 - O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth, That I am meek and gentle with these butchers; Thou art the ruins of the noblest man That ever lived in the tide of times. Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood ! Over thy wounds now do I prophesy...
Page 211 - Tis but an hour ago since it was nine, And after one hour more 'twill be eleven ; And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe, And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot ; And thereby hangs a tale.
Page 323 - How lov'd, how honour'd once, avails thee not, To whom related, or by whom begot ; A heap of dust alone remains of thee, 'Tis all thou art, and all the proud shall be ! Poets themselves must fall, like those they sung, Deaf the prais'd ear, and mute the tuneful tongue.
Page 398 - Flushed with a purple grace He shows his honest face: Now give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes! Bacchus , ever fair and young , Drinking joys did first ordain : Bacchus...
Page 372 - Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. The evil, that men do, lives after them ; The good is oft interred with their bones ; So let it be with Caesar.
Page 270 - Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee Jest, and youthful Jollity, Quips and cranks, and wanton wiles, Nods and becks, and wreathed smiles, Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek ; Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides.
Page 251 - The boast of heraldry, the pomp of pow'r, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Await alike th' inevitable hour. The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Page 374 - O, now you weep; and, I perceive, you feel The dint of pity : these are gracious drops. Kind souls, what ! weep you, when you but behold Our Caesar's vesture wounded ? Look you here, Here is himself, marr'd, as you see, with traitors.