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Página 102 - But where to find that happiest spot below Who can direct, when all pretend to know ? The shuddering tenant of the frigid zone Boldly proclaims that happiest spot his own ; Extols the treasures of his stormy seas, And his long nights of revelry and ease...
Página 163 - Although I joy in thee, I have no joy of this contract to-night. It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden ; Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be, Ere one can say — It lightens.* Sweet, good night!
Página 255 - Call El Dorado. But to nobler sights Michael from Adam's eyes the film removed, Which that false fruit, that promised clearer sight, Had bred ; then purged with euphrasy and rue The visual nerve, for he had much to see, And from the well of life three drops instill'd.
Página 34 - Hath seal'd thee for herself: for thou hast been As one, in suffering all, that suffers nothing; A man that fortune's buffets and rewards Hast ta'en with equal thanks : and blest are those Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger To sound what stop she please.
Página 71 - ITALIA, Italia, o tu cui feo la sorte Dono infelice di bellezza, ond' hai Funesta dote d' infiniti guai, Che in fronte scritti per gran doglia porte : • Deh fossi tu men bella, o almen più forte, Onde assai più ti paventasse, o assai T...
Página 257 - On what strange grounds we build our hopes and fears ! Man's life is all a mist ! and, in the dark, Our fortunes meet us.
Página 1 - Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word, Macduff is fled to England. Macb. Fled to England ? Len. Ay, my good lord. Macb. Time, thou anticipat'st my dread exploits : The flighty purpose never is o'ertook, Unless the deed go with it : from this moment, The very firstlings of my heart shall be The firstlings of my hand. And even now, To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and done : The castle of Macduff I will surprise ; Seize upon Fife ; give to the edge o' the sword His wife, his babes,...
Página 1 - Good people all of every sort, Give ear unto my song, And if you find it wondrous short It cannot hold you long. In Islington there was a man, Of whom the world might say, That still a godly race he ran Whene'er he went to pray. A kind and gentle heart he had, To comfort friends and foes; The naked every day he clad, When he put on his clothes. And in that town a dog was found, As many dogs there be...
Página 196 - Yet oft a sigh prevails, and sorrows fall, To see the hoard of human bliss so small : And oft I wish, amidst the scene to find Some spot to real happiness consign'd, Where my worn soul, each wandering hope at rest, May gather bliss to see my fellows blest.