The Universal Anthology: A Collection of the Best Literature, Ancient, Mediaeval and Modern, with Biographical and Explanatory Notes, Količina 10

Sprednja platnica
Richard Garnett, Léon Vallée, Alois Brandl
Clarke Company, limited, 1899
 

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Priljubljeni odlomki

Stran 236 - Fal. I call thee coward! I'll see thee damned ere I call thee coward ; but I would give a thousand pound, I could run as fast as thou canst. You are straight enough in the shoulders; you care not who sees your back: call you that backing of your friends ? A plague upon such backing ! Give me them that will face me.
Stran 45 - O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father, and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet.
Stran 45 - O, speak again, bright angel ! for thou art As glorious to this night, being o'er my head, As is a winged messenger of heaven Unto the white-upturned wond'ring eyes Of mortals, that fall back to gaze on him, When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds, And sails upon the bosom of the air.
Stran 250 - I have nourished and brought up children, and they have rebelled against me. The ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his master's crib: but Israel doth not know, my people doth not consider.
Stran 244 - I pray thee, wish not one man more. By Jove, I am not covetous for gold, Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost; It yearns me not if men my garments wear; Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
Stran 246 - With Spanish yew so strong, Arrows a cloth-yard long, That like to serpents stung, Piercing the weather; None from his fellow starts, But playing manly parts, And like true English hearts, Stuck close together.
Stran 226 - The hunting of that day. The stout Earl of Northumberland A vow to God did make, His pleasure in the Scottish woods Three summer days to take; The chiefest harts in Chevy-Chase To kill and bear away.
Stran 51 - Wilt thou be gone ? it is not yet near day : It was the nightingale, and not the lark, That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear ; Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree : Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.
Stran 171 - And to the soper sette us anon; And served us with vitaille at the beste. Strong was the wyn, and wel to drinke us leste. 7; A semely man our hoste was with-alle For to han been a marshal in an halle; A large man he was with eyen stepe...
Stran 158 - Tabard as I lay Redy to wenden on my pilgrimage...

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