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Page 360 - That patient merit of the unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin ? who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life ; But that the dread of something after death, — The undiscover'd country, from whose bourn No traveller returns, — puzzles the will ; And makes us rather bear those ills we have, Than fly to others that we know not of?
Page 360 - And by opposing end them ? — To die — to sleep — No more ; and, by a sleep, to say we end The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to — 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish'd. To die — to sleep ; — To sleep ! perchance to dream : — ay, there's the rub ; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause...
Page 360 - To die, to sleep; To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause: there's the respect That makes calamity of so long life; For who would bear the whips and scorns of time.
Page 352 - Millions of flaming swords, drawn from the thighs Of mighty Cherubim ; the sudden blaze Far round illumined Hell. Highly they raged Against the Highest, and fierce with grasped arms Clashed on their sounding shields the din of war, Hurling defiance toward the vault of Heaven.
Page 368 - As when to them who sail Beyond the Cape of Hope, and now are past Mozambic, off at sea north-east winds blow Sabean odours from the spicy shore Of Araby the Blest; with, such delay Well pleased they slack their course, and many a league Cheer'd with the grateful smell old Ocean smiles...
Page 60 - ... beans and bacon, and a barn-door fowl. Now his lordship is run after his cart, I have a moment left to myself to tell you, that I overheard him yesterday agree with a painter for two hundred pounds, to paint his country hall, with rakes, spades, prongs, &c. and other ornaments, merely to countenance his calling this place a farm.
Page 379 - She is the fairies' midwife ; and she comes In shape no bigger than an agate-stone On the fore-finger of an alderman, Drawn with a team of little atomies Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep : Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners...
Page 145 - ... her fatal broom against the labors of the little animal, I had the good fortune then to prevent its destruction, and I may say it more than paid me by the entertainment it afforded. In three days the web was, with incredible diligence, completed ; nor could I avoid thinking that the insect seemed to exult in its new abode.
Page 146 - I expected the spider would have set about repairing the breaches that were made in its net ; but those, it seems, were irreparable, wherefore the cobweb was now entirely forsaken, and .a new one begun, which was completed in the usual time. I had now a mind to try how many cobwebs a single spider could furnish ; wherefore I destroyed this, and the insect set about another. When I destroyed the other also, its whole stock seemed entirely exhausted, and it could spin no more. The arts it mada use...
Page 7 - Gay and myself have written several letters in vain ; and that we were constantly inquiring, of all who have seen Ireland, if they saw you, and that (forgotten as we are) we are every day remembering you in our most agreeable hours. All this is true ; as that we are sincerely lovers of you, and deplorers of your absence, and that we form no...