Histoire de la littérature anglaise, Volume 2

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Page 501 - Here we may reign secure: and in my choice. To reign is worth ambition, though in hell ; Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven.
Page 403 - Now just as the Gates were opened to let in the men, I looked in after them, and behold, the City shone like the Sun; the Streets also were paved with Gold, and in them walked many men, with Crowns on their heads, Palms in their hands, and golden Harps to sing praises withal. There were also of them that had wings, and they answered one another without intermission, saying, Holy, Holy, Holy, is the Lord.
Page 264 - Blow, blow, thou winter wind, Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude ; Thy tooth is not so keen, Because thou art not seen, Although thy breath be rude.
Page 170 - Two loves I have of comfort and despair, Which like two spirits do suggest me still. The better angel is a man right fair, The worser spirit a woman colour'd ill. To win me soon to hell, my female evil Tempteth my better angel from my side, And would corrupt my saint to be a devil, Wooing his purity with her foul pride.
Page 239 - One cried, God bless us ! and, Amen, the other ; As they had seen me, with these hangman's hands. Listening their fear, I could not say, amen, When they did say, God bless us.
Page 493 - Not what they would ? what praise could they receive ? What pleasure I from such obedience paid, When will and reason (reason also' is choice) Useless and vain, of freedom both despoil'd, Made passive both, had served necessity, Not me ? They therefore, as to right belong'd, So were created, nor can justly...
Page 20 - Ay, but to die, and go we know not where ; To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot ; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod...
Page 118 - To make a child now swaddled, to proceed Man, and then shoot up, in one beard and weed, Past three-score years ; or, with three rusty swords, And help of some few foot and half-foot words, Fight over York and Lancaster's long jars, And in the tyring-house bring wounds to scars.
Page 267 - The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side; His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank ; and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound: Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
Page 467 - Come, and trip it as you go On the light fantastic toe, And in thy right hand lead with thee, The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty; And if I give thee honour due, Mirth, admit me of thy crew, To live with her, and live with thee, In unreproved pleasures free...

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