Hvad folk siger - Skriv en anmeldelse
Vi har ikke fundet nogen anmeldelser de normale steder.
Andre udgaver - Se alle
answered Antonio appeared arms asked Bassanio battle beautiful began body bond Brutus Cæsar called carried charge child Citizen comes court cried death Duke English entered eyes face father fear fell flesh follow gave girl give Grace Gratiano hair half hand Hastings head hear heard heart heaven honor horse hour hundred husband judge kind king lady learned less letter light live looked Lord mind morning mountain never night noble once opened passed Persian poet poor Portia present returned ring rose round seemed seen Shakespeare short Shylock side soon soul sound speak stand story strange sweet tears tell thee Thomas thou thought thousand told turned voice whole wife wish young
Side 217 - Swinging slow with sullen roar; Or if the Air will not permit, Some still removed place will fit, Where glowing Embers through the room Teach light to counterfeit a gloom, Far from all resort of mirth, Save the Cricket on the hearth...
Side 39 - Old ocean's gray and melancholy waste, — Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun, The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, Are shining on the sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom...
Side 213 - Where throngs of knights and barons bold, In weeds of peace, high triumphs hold, With store of ladies, whose bright eyes Rain influence, and judge the prize Of wit or arms, while both contend To win her grace whom all commend.
Side 216 - There held in holy passion still, Forget thyself to marble, till With a sad, leaden, downward cast Thou fix them on the earth as fast: And join with thee calm Peace, and Quiet, Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth diet, And hears the Muses in a ring Aye round about Jove's altar sing: And add to these retired Leisure, That in trim gardens takes his pleasure; But first, and chiefest, with thee bring Him that yon soars on golden wing, Guiding the fiery-wheeled throne, The Cherub Contemplation...
Side 217 - The immortal mind that hath forsook Her mansion in this fleshly nook: And of those demons that are found In fire, air, flood, or under ground, Whose power hath a true consent With planet, or with element. Sometime let gorgeous tragedy In scepter'd pall come sweeping by, Presenting Thebes, or Pelops line, Or the tale of Troy divine.
Side 40 - So live that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan which moves To that mysterious realm where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of Death, Thou go not like the quarry -slave at night Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him and lies down to pleasant dreams.
Side 180 - Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony : who, though he had no hand in his death, shall receive the benefit of his dying, a place in the commonwealth; as which of you shall not ? With this I depart, — that, as I slew my best lover for the good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself, when it shall please my country to need my death.
Side 38 - To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language ; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware.
Side 117 - HALF a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. " Forward, the Light Brigade! Charge for the guns," he said: Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.
Side 179 - Romans, countrymen, and lovers, hear me for my cause, and be silent, that you may hear. Believe me for mine honour, and have respect to mine honour, that you may believe. Censure me in your wisdom, and awake your senses, that you may the better judge. If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of Caesar's, to him I say, that Brutus' love to Caesar was no less than his.