The History of English Dramatic Poetry to the Time of Shakespeare:: And Annals of the Stage to the Restoration, Volume 3

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John Murray, Albemarle-Street., 1831 - English drama - 508 pages

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Page 122 - Our souls, whose faculties can comprehend The wondrous architecture of the world, And measure every wandering planet's course, Still climbing after knowledge infinite, And always moving as the restless spheres, Will us to wear ourselves, and never rest, Until we reach the ripest fruit of all, That perfect bliss and sole felicity, The sweet fruition of an earthly crown.
Page 299 - King Henry making a mask at the Cardinal Wolsey's house, and certain cannons being shot off at his entry, some of the paper, or other stuff wherewith one of them was stopped, did light on the thatch...
Page 117 - I'll ride in golden armour like the sun ; And in my helm a triple plume shall spring, Spangled with diamonds, dancing in the air, To note me emperor of the three-fold world...
Page 122 - Flora in her morning's pride, Shaking her silver tresses in the air, Rain'st on the earth resolved pearl in showers, And sprinklest sapphires on thy shining face, Where Beauty, mother to the Muses, sits, And comments volumes with her...
Page 142 - O treacherous Warwick! thus to wrong thy friend. James. I see it is your life these arms pursue. Gav. Weaponless must I fall, and die in bands ? Oh! must this day be period of my life ? Centre of all my bliss!
Page 257 - This eulogy of honourable love is vigorous in thought as well as metre : — "fis nature's second sun, Causing a spring of virtues where he shines; And as without the sun, the world's great eye, All colours, beauties, both of art and nature, Are given in vain to...
Page 156 - Fair queen of love, thou mistress of delight, Thou gladsome lamp that wait'st on Phoebe's train, Spreading thy kindness through the jarring orbs, That in their union praise thy lasting powers...
Page 143 - But not of kings. The forest deer, being struck, Runs to an herb that closeth up the' wounds; But, when the imperial lion's flesh is gored, He rends and tears it with his wrathful paw, And highly scorning that the lowly earth Should drink his blood, mounts up into the air.
Page 55 - I see them with their bolstered hair Staring and grinning in thy gentle face, And in their ruthless hands their daggers drawn, Insulting o'er thee with a peck of oaths, Whilst thou submissive, pleading for relief. Art mangled by their ireful instruments. Methinks...
Page 298 - July 6, 1613: *'Now to let matters of state sleep, I will entertain you at the present with what happened this week at the Bankside. The king's players had a new play, called All is True...

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