PoetryVicesimus Knox S. Walker, 1825 - Literature |
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Page 12
... thou Servile to all the skiey influences , [ art , That do this habitation , where thou keep'st , Hourly afflict : merely , thou art death's fool ; For him thou labour'st by thy flight to shun , And yet runn'st tow'rd him still . Thou ...
... thou Servile to all the skiey influences , [ art , That do this habitation , where thou keep'st , Hourly afflict : merely , thou art death's fool ; For him thou labour'st by thy flight to shun , And yet runn'st tow'rd him still . Thou ...
Page 54
... Thou tremblest and the whiteness in thy Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand . Even such a man , so faint , so spiritless , So dull , so dead in look , so woe - begone , Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night , And would have ...
... Thou tremblest and the whiteness in thy Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand . Even such a man , so faint , so spiritless , So dull , so dead in look , so woe - begone , Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night , And would have ...
Page 101
... thou not charg'd me ? Speak . Dor . Thou know'st I have : If thou disown'st that imputation , draw , And prove my charge a lie . [ draw : But all th ' advantage of that love was thine : For , coming fraughted back , in either hand With ...
... thou not charg'd me ? Speak . Dor . Thou know'st I have : If thou disown'st that imputation , draw , And prove my charge a lie . [ draw : But all th ' advantage of that love was thine : For , coming fraughted back , in either hand With ...
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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