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Стр. 511 - Fountain heads and pathless groves, Places which pale passion loves! Moonlight walks, when all the fowls Are warmly housed save bats and owls! A midnight bell, a parting groan, These are the sounds we feed upon; Then stretch our bones in a still gloomy valley; Nothing's so dainty sweet as lovely melancholy.
Стр. 422 - All school-days' friendship, childhood innocence ? We, Hermia, like two artificial gods, Have with our needles created both one flower, Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, Both warbling of one song, both in one key ; As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds, Had been incorporate.
Стр. 356 - Then we will be coy no more, But thy deity adore : Troths at fifteen we will plight, And will tread a dance...
Стр. 407 - Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples That liberal shepherds give a grosser name, But our cold maids do dead men's fingers call them : There, on the pendent boughs her coronet weeds Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke ; When down her weedy trophies and herself Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide ; And, mermaid-like...
Стр. 420 - O you heavenly charmers, What things you make of us ! For what we lack We laugh, for what we have are sorry ; still Are children in some kind.
Стр. 409 - Oh, who can find the bent of woman's fancy ? I am a fool, my reason is lost in me ! I have no choice, and I have lied so lewdly, That women ought to beat me.
Стр. 475 - Yet cousin, Even from the bottom of these miseries, From all that fortune can inflict upon us, I see two comforts rising, two mere blessings, If the gods please to hold here ; a brave patience, And the enjoying of our griefs together. Whilst Palamon is with me, let me perish If I think this our prison. Pal. Certainly Tis a main goodness...
Стр. 463 - Whiles his young master lieth o'er his head. Second, that he do, on no default, Ever presume to sit above the salt. Third that he never change his trencher twice.
Стр. 564 - Peace and silence be the guide To the man, and to the bride ! If there be a joy yet new In marriage, let it fall on you, That all the world may wonder ! If we should stay, we should do worse, And turn our blessing to a curse, By keeping you asunder.
Стр. 414 - O great corrector of enormous times, Shaker of o'er-rank states, thou grand decider Of dusty and old titles, that heal'st with blood The earth when it is sick, and cur'st the world O' the plurisy of people ; I do take Thy signs auspiciously, and in thy name To my design march boldly.