PoetryVicesimus Knox S. Walker, 1825 |
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Página 95
... tell thee , Pandarus- When I do tell thee , there my hopes lie drown'd , Reply not in how many fathoms deep They lie indrench'd . I tell thee , I am mad In Cressid's love : Thou answer'st , she is fair , Pour'st in the open ulcer of my ...
... tell thee , Pandarus- When I do tell thee , there my hopes lie drown'd , Reply not in how many fathoms deep They lie indrench'd . I tell thee , I am mad In Cressid's love : Thou answer'st , she is fair , Pour'st in the open ulcer of my ...
Página 101
... tell me what I durst not tell myself : I durst not think that I was spurn'd , and live ; And live to hear it boasted to my face ; All my long avarice of honor lost , Heap'd up in youth , and hoarded up for age ; Has honor's fountain ...
... tell me what I durst not tell myself : I durst not think that I was spurn'd , and live ; And live to hear it boasted to my face ; All my long avarice of honor lost , Heap'd up in youth , and hoarded up for age ; Has honor's fountain ...
Página 298
... Tell me , my heart , if this be love ? If she some other swain commend , Though I was once his fondest friend , His instant enemy I prove ; Tell me , my heart , if this be love ? When she is absent , I no more Delight in all that pleas ...
... Tell me , my heart , if this be love ? If she some other swain commend , Though I was once his fondest friend , His instant enemy I prove ; Tell me , my heart , if this be love ? When she is absent , I no more Delight in all that pleas ...
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Términos y frases comunes
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