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Oxford University Press, 1864 - Electronic journals

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Page 338 - That very time I saw (but thou couldst not), Flying between the cold moon and the earth, Cupid all arm'd : a certain aim he took At a fair vestal throned by the west, And loos'd his love-shaft smartly from his bow, As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts : But I might see young Cupid's fiery shaft Quench'd in the chaste beams of the watery moon, And the imperial votaress passed on, In maiden meditation, fancy-free.
Page 389 - THE HISTORY OF OUR LORD, as exemplified in Works of Art, with that of His Types, St. John the Baptist, and other persons of the Old and New Testament.
Page 425 - PORTLOCK.- REPORT ON THE GEOLOGY OF THE COUNTY of LONDONDERRY, and of Parts of Tyrone and Fermanagh, examined and described under the Authority of the Master-General and Board of Ordnance. By JE PORTLOCK, FRS &c.
Page 30 - For, wit lying most in the assemblage of ideas, and putting those together with quickness and variety wherein can be found any resemblance or congruity, thereby to make up pleasant pictures and agreeable visions in the fancy...
Page 341 - I'll observe his looks; I'll tent him to the quick: if he but blench, I know my course. The spirit that I have seen May be the devil : and the devil hath power To assume a pleasing shape; yea, and perhaps Out of my weakness and my melancholy, — As he is very potent with such spirits, — Abuses me to damn me: I'll have grounds More relative than this: — the play's the thing Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king.
Page 43 - Tender-handed stroke a nettle, And it stings you for your pains ; Grasp it like a man of mettle, And it soft as silk remains.
Page 388 - Why, let the stricken deer go weep, The hart ungalled play; For some must watch, while some must sleep; So runs the world away.
Page 300 - Where is the man who has the power and skill To stem the torrent of a woman's will ? For if she will, she will, you may depend on't. And if she won't, she won't; so there's an end on't.
Page 338 - Since once I sat upon a promontory, And heard a mermaid, on a dolphin's back, Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath, That the rude sea grew civil at her song, And certain stars shot madly from their spheres, To hear the sea-maid's music.
Page 307 - The times have been That, when the brains were out, the man would die, And there an end ; but now they rise again, With twenty mortal murders on their crowns, And push us from our stools.

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