The Speaker, Հատոր 7 |
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Էջ 449 - Be copy now to men of grosser blood, And teach them how to war! — And you, good yeomen, Whose limbs were made in England, show us here The mettle of your pasture; let us swear That you are worth your breeding : which I doubt not; For there is none of you so mean and base, That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
Էջ 103 - 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.
Էջ 278 - I count this thing to be grandly true; That a noble deed is a step toward God — Lifting the soul from the common clod To a purer air and a broader view.
Էջ 276 - But these are all lies : men have died from time to time and worms have eaten them, but not for love.
Էջ 180 - HAD she come all the way for this, To part at last without a kiss ? Yea, had she borne the dirt and rain That her own eyes might see him slain Beside the haystack in the floods...
Էջ 448 - Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall up with our English dead ! In peace there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility : But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger...
Էջ 413 - What business have you, miss, with preference and aversion? They don't become a young woman; and you ought to know, that as both always wear off, 'tis safest in matrimony to begin with a little aversion. I am sure I hated your poor dear uncle before marriage as if he'd been a black-amoor - and yet, Miss, you are sensible what a wife I made! - and when it pleas'd Heav'n to release me from him, 'tis unknown what tears I shed!
Էջ 174 - Nearer came the storm, and nearer, rolling fast and frightful on: Speak, Ximena, speak and tell us, who has lost, and who has won ? "Alas! alas! I know not; friend and foe together fall, O'er the dying rush the living; pray, my sisters, for them all!
Էջ 449 - And you, good yeomen, Whose limbs were made in England, show us here The mettle of your pasture ; let us swear That you are worth your breeding : which I doubt not; For there is none of you so mean and base, That hath not noble lustre in your eyes. I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,* Straining upon the start. The game's afoot ; Follow your spirit : and, upon this charge, Cry — God for Harry ! England ! and Saint George ! [Exeunt . Alarum, and Chambers go off.
Էջ 436 - When a murmuring sound broke out, and swelled into a shout Among the godless horsemen upon the tyrant's right. And hark ! like the roar of the billows on the shore, The cry of battle rises along their charging line : For God ! for the Cause ! for the Church ! for the Laws ! For Charles, King of England, and Rupert of the Rhine!