Spencer to CrabbeOxford University Press, 1990 - English poetry |
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Page 95
... blood , Disguise fair nature with hard - favour'd rage ; Then lend the eye a terrible aspect ; Let it pry through the portage of the head Like the brass cannon ; let the brow o'erwhelm it As fearfully as doth a galled rock O'erhang and ...
... blood , Disguise fair nature with hard - favour'd rage ; Then lend the eye a terrible aspect ; Let it pry through the portage of the head Like the brass cannon ; let the brow o'erwhelm it As fearfully as doth a galled rock O'erhang and ...
Page 100
... blood , who else is rank : If I myself , there is no hour so fit As Cæsar's death's hour , nor no instrument Of half that worth as those your swords , made rich With the most noble blood of all this world . I do beseech ye , if ye bear ...
... blood , who else is rank : If I myself , there is no hour so fit As Cæsar's death's hour , nor no instrument Of half that worth as those your swords , made rich With the most noble blood of all this world . I do beseech ye , if ye bear ...
Page 134
... blood . Macb . I'll go no more : I am afraid to think what I have done ; Look on ' t again I dare not . Lady M. Infirm of purpose ! Give me the daggers . The sleeping and the dead Are but as pictures ; ' tis the eye of childhood That ...
... blood . Macb . I'll go no more : I am afraid to think what I have done ; Look on ' t again I dare not . Lady M. Infirm of purpose ! Give me the daggers . The sleeping and the dead Are but as pictures ; ' tis the eye of childhood That ...
Contents
SIR WALTER RALEIGH 15521618 | 33 |
FULKE GREVILLE LORD BROOKE 15541628 | 49 |
GEORGE CHAPMAN 15601634 | 54 |
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arms art thou beauty behold blessed blood breast breath bright Cæsar charms Coriolanus crown dark dead dear death deep delight dost doth dreadful earth eyes face fair fame fate fear fire flames flowers fools gentle give glory gold grace grave Greensleeves grief hand hast hath head hear heart heaven Hecuba hell honour king kiss Lady light limbeck lips live look lord loue love's Lycidas lyre mind Muse Nature ne'er never night numbers nymph o'er pain peace pity pleasure poison'd praise pride rage rest round Saint CRISPIN's day Satan scape scorn shade sigh sight sing Sir Patrick Spens sleep smile soft song sorrow soul speak spirit stood sweet Sycorax tears tell thee thine things thou art thou hast thought Twas unto weep wind wings wyllowe youth