angel Annette APPIANI art thou Banquo beautiful beneath bosom bright Carnwood child Cicely CLAUDIA cried Curts dare dark daughter dear death doth dream earth Edward Emilia Galotti eyes face fair father fear feel flowers gaze genius glory Gotthold Ephraim Lessing grave Guastalla hand happy hath hear heart heaven Heringford honour hope hour Jessamine Jove Kate Westrill kiss knew lady laugh Lisette look lord Macbeth maiden Marinelli MART Mat Maybird MEDON mind misery mother murder never night noble Novalis o'er ODOARDO once ORSINA passage passed Pergolese PIRRO poet poetry PRINCE PROMETH replied rose Sabionetta scene SCHN Shakspere sigh Silvan Simon Byre Sir Richard Ellerton sleep smile sorrow soul speak Spenton spirit stood sweet tears tell thee thine things thou art thou hast thought Vermont village voice wander Willie Bats words
Page 194 - I loved Ophelia: forty thousand brothers Could not with all their quantity of love, Make up my sum.
Page 481 - Is man no more than this? Consider him well. Thou owest the worm no silk, the beast no hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no perfume. Ha! here's three on's are sophisticated! Thou art the thing itself; unaccommodated man is no more but such a poor, bare, forked animal as thou art.
Page 255 - What objects are the fountains Of thy happy strain? What fields or waves or mountains? What shapes of sky or plain? What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of pain?
Page 303 - Avaunt ! and quit my sight ! let the earth hide thee ! Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold ; Thou hast no speculation in those eyes Which thou dost glare with.
Page 305 - If we shadows have offended, Think but this, and all is mended: That you have but slumbered here While these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, No more yielding but a dream, Gentles, do not reprehend: If you pardon, we will mend.
Page 193 - Remember thee! Yea, from the table of my memory I'll wipe away all trivial fond records, All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past, That youth and observation copied there...
Page 232 - tis not to come ; if it be not to come, it will be now ; if it be not now, yet it will come : the readiness is all.
Page 302 - And thou opposed, being of no woman born, Yet I will try the last. Before my body I throw my warlike shield. Lay on, Macduff, And damn'd be him that first cries 'Hold, enough!
Page 429 - Brief as the lightning in the collied night, That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth. And ere a man hath power to say, — Behold ! The jaws of darkness do devour it up : So quick bright things come to confusion.
Page 301 - The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast ; — Lady M. What do you mean ? Macb. Still it cried, Sleep no more ! to all the house : Glamis hath murdered sleep; and therefore Cawdor Shall sleep no more ; Macbeth shall sleep no more .