The plays and poems of Shakespeare, according to the improved text of E. Malone, with notes and illustr., ed. by A.J. Valpy, Bind 9

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Side 260 - Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory; But far beyond my depth : my high-blown pride At length broke under me ; and now has left me, Weary, and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.
Side 8 - Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me, as I halt by them...
Side 305 - She shall be lov'd and fear'd : her own shall bless her ; Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn, And hang their heads with sorrow. Good grows with her ! In her days every man shall eat in safety, Under his own vine, what he plants, and sing The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours...
Side 260 - Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness ! This is the state of man : to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope ; to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honors thick upon him ; The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, And — when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a-ripening — nips his root, And then he falls as I do.
Side 221 - Must pity drop upon her. Verily,' I swear, 'tis better to be lowly born, And range with humble livers in content, Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief, And wear a golden sorrow.
Side 272 - Oxford! one of which fell with him, Unwilling to outlive the good that did it ; The other, though unfinish'd, yet so famous, So excellent in art, and still so rising, That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue. His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him ; For then, and not till then, he felt himself, And found the blessedness of being little : And, to add greater honours to his age Than man could give him, he died, fearing God.
Side 164 - Slave, I have set my life upon a cast, And I will stand the hazard of the die. I think there be six Richmonds in the field ; Five have I slain to-day instead of him. A horse ! a horse ! my kingdom for a horse ! [Exeunt.
Side 8 - But I, — that am not shaped for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass ; I that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty, To strut before a wanton ambling nymph ; I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion, Cheated of featuret by dissembling!
Side 272 - O father abbot, An old man, broken with the storms of state, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye; Give him a little earth for charity...
Side 236 - Every thing that heard him play, Even the billows of the sea, Hung their heads, and then lay by. In sweet music is such art, Killing care and grief of heart Fall asleep, or hearing, die.

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