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By heaven, I had rather coin my heart,
denied me: was that done like Cassius ? Should I have answer'd Caius Cassius so ? When 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.
not. BRU. You did. Cas.
I did not: he was but a fool That brought my answer back. Brutus hath rived my
Bru. I do not, till you practise them on me.
I do not like
faults. Cas. A friendly eye could never see such faults.
BRU. A fatterer's would not, though they do appear As huge as high Olympus.
Cas. Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come,
to lock] as to lock.
I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart :
Sheathe your dagger : Be angry when you
will, it shall have scope ;
Hath Cassius lived
BRU. When I spoke that, I was ill-temper'd too.
you confess so much ? Give me your hand. BRU. And
heart too. Cas.
O Brutus !
What 's the matter ? Cas. Have not you love enough to bear with me, When that rash humour which my mother gave me Makes me forgetful ?
Yes, Cassius; and from henceforth, When you are over-earnest with your Brutus, He ʼll think your mother chides, and leave you so.
The Dying Gladiator
I see before me the Gladiator lie;
conquers agony, And his droop'd head sinks gradually lowhumour] the natural temper that a man is born with,
And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow
The arena swims around him—he is gone,
He heard it, but he heeded not—his eyes
All this rush'd with his blood—Shall he expire And unavenged ?-Arise ! ye Goths, and glut your ire! ...
On Wenlock Edge the wood's in trouble ;
His forest fleece the Wrekin heaves ;
And thick on Severn snow the leaves.
'Twould blow like this through holt and hanger
When Uricon the city stood :
But then it thresh'd another wood.
Then, 'twas before my time, the Roman
At yonder heaving hill would stare :
The thoughts that hurt him, they were there.
There, like the wind through woods in riot,
Through him the gale of life blew high ;
Then 'twas the Roman, now 'tis I.
It blows so hard, 'twill soon be gone :
A. E. Housman.
From Locksley Hall
For I dipt into the future, far as human eye could see, Saw the Vision of the world, and all the wonder that
would be ; Saw the heavens fill with commerce, argosies of magic
sails, Pilots of the purple twilight, dropping down with costly
bales ; Heard the heavens fill with shouting, and there rain'd
a ghastly dew From the nations' airy navies grappling in the central
blue; Far along the world-wide whisper of the south-wind
rushing warm, With the standards of the peoples plunging thro' the
thunderstorm; Till the war-drum throbb’d no longer, and the battle
flags were furl'd In the Parliament of man, the Federation of the world. . .
140* On first looking into Chapman's
Much have I travell’d in the realms of gold,
And many goodly states and kingdoms seen ;
Round many western islands have I been
That deep-brow'd Homer ruled as his demesne;
Yet did I never breathe its pure serene
When a new planet swims into his ken ;
He stared at the Pacific—and all his men Look'd at each other with a wild surmiseSilent, upon a peak in Darien.
QUINQUEREME of Nineveh from distant Ophir
With a cargo of ivory
And apes and peacocks,
Stately Spanish galleon coming from the Isthmus, Dipping through the Tropics by the palm-green shores
With a cargo of diamonds,
Quinquereme) a ship with five banks of oars.