New School Dialogues; Or, Dramatic Selections for the Use of Schools, Academies, and Families: Designed to Furnish Exercises Either for Reading, Recitation Or Exhibition
Collins & Brother, 1871 - Всего страниц: 456
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Стр. 86 - The wide, th' unbounded prospect, lies before me; But shadows, clouds, and darkness rest upon it. Here will I hold. If there's a power above us, (And that there is all nature cries aloud Through all her works), he must delight in virtue ; And that which he delights in, must be happy.
Стр. 53 - As a sick girl. Ye gods, it doth amaze me, A man of such a feeble temper should So get the start of the majestic world, And bear the palm alone.
Стр. 53 - Why should that name be sounded more than yours ? Write them together, yours is as fair a name; Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well; Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with 'em, Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Caesar.
Стр. 209 - Let him follow me! By oppression's woes and pains! By your sons in servile chains! We will drain our dearest veins, But they shall be free! Lay the proud usurpers low! Tyrants fall in every foe! Liberty's in every blow!
Стр. 83 - All this? ay, more: fret till your proud heart break; Go show your slaves how choleric you are, And make your bondmen tremble. Must I budge? Must I observe you? Must I stand and crouch Under your testy humor? By the gods, You shall digest the venom of your spleen, Though it do split you ! for, from this day forth, I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter, When you are waspish.
Стр. 34 - I have pass'da miserable night, So full of fearful dreams, of ugly sights, That, as I am a Christian faithful man, I would not spend another such a night, Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days, — So full of dismal terror was the time ! Brak.
Стр. 83 - You have done that you should be sorry for. There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats; For I am arm'd so strong in honesty, That they pass by me as the idle wind Which I respect not.
Стр. 30 - Though my perishing ranks should be strewed in their gore, Like ocean-weeds heaped on the surf-beaten shore, Lochiel, untainted by flight or by chains, While the kindling of life in his bosom remains, Shall victor exult, or in death be laid low, With his back to the field, and his feet to the foe ! And leaving in battle no blot on his name, Look proudly to heaven from the death-bed of fame.
Стр. 84 - Marcus Brutus grows so covetous, To lock such rascal counters from his friends, Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts ; Dash him to pieces ! Cas. I denied you not. Bru. You did. Cas. I did not : he was but a fool that brought My answer back. Brutus hath rived my heart : A friend should bear a friend's infirmities, But Brutus makes mine greater than they are.