Histoire de la littérature anglaise, Volumen1

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L. Hachette et cie, 1863 - 2404 páginas

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Página 400 - Adrian's horse, confounded that of himself. In vain we compute our felicities by the advantage of our good names, since bad have equal durations, and Thersites is like to live as long as Agamemnon. Who knows whether the best of men be known, or whether there be not more remarkable persons forgot, than any that stand remem'bered in the known account of time...
Página 405 - ... to give a true account of their gift of reason, to the benefit and use of men : as if there were sought in knowledge a couch, whereupon to rest a searching and restless spirit ; or a terrace, for a wandering and variable mind to walk up and down with a fair prospect ; or a tower of state, for a proud mind to raise itself upon ; or a fort or commanding ground, for strife and contention ; or a shop, for profit, or sale ; and not a rich storehouse, for the glory of the Creator, and the relief of...
Página 281 - With eyes cast up unto the maiden's tower, And easy sighs, such as folk draw in love; The stately seats, the ladies bright of hue, The dances short, long tales of great delight, With words and looks that tigers could but rue, Where each of us did plead the other's right...
Página 399 - Herostratus lives that burnt the temple of Diana, he is almost lost that built it ; Time hath spared the epitaph of Adrian's horse, confounded that of himself. In vain we compute our felicities by the advantage of our good names, since bad have equal durations ; and Thersites is like to live as long as Agamemnon.
Página 351 - Her daintie paps ; which, like young fruit in May, Now little gan to swell, and being tide Through her thin weed their places only signifide.
Página 497 - So high in thoughts as I : You left a kiss Upon these lips then, which I mean to keep From you for ever. I did hear you talk Far above singing ! After you were gone, I grew acquainted with my heart, and search'd What stirr'd it so : Alas ! I found it love ; Yet far from lust ; for could I but have lived In presence of you, I had had my end.
Página 400 - To be ignorant of evils to come and forgetful of evils past is merciful provision in nature, whereby we digest the mixture of our few and evil days...
Página 219 - With lokkes crulle, as they were leyd in presse. Of twenty yeer of age he was, I gesse. Of his stature he was of evene lengthe, And wonderly deliver, and greet of strengthe.
Página 319 - Love in my bosom like a bee Doth suck his sweet : Now with his wings he plays with me, Now with his feet. Within mine eyes he makes his nest, His bed amidst my tender breast ; My kisses are his daily feast, And yet he robs me of my rest. Ah, wanton, will ye?
Página 158 - My father was a yeoman, and had no lands of his own, only he had a farm of three or four pound by year at the uttermost, and hereupon he tilled so much as kept half a dozen men. He had walk for a hundred sheep; and my mother milked thirty kine.

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