The Second Part of Henry the Fourth

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Rivington, 1889 - 142 pages
 

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Page 37 - God! that one might read the Book of Fate, And see the revolution of the times Make mountains level, and the continent, Weary of solid firmness, melt itself Into the sea : and, other times, to s'ee The beachy girdle of the ocean Too wide for Neptune's hips...
Page 18 - Thou didst swear to me upon a parcelgilt goblet, sitting in my Dolphin-chamber, at the round table, by a sea-coal fire, upon Wednesday in Whitsunweek, when the prince broke thy head for liking his father to a singing-man of Windsor, — thou didst swear to me then, as I was washing thy wound, to marry me, and make me my lady thy wife.
Page 36 - Wilt thou, upon the high and giddy mast, Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains In cradle of the rude imperious surge, And in the visitation of the winds, Who take the ruffian billows by the top, Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them. With deaf ning clamours in the slippery clouds, That, with the hurly, death itself awakes...
Page 101 - And brass eternal slave to mortal rage ; When I have seen the hungry ocean gain Advantage on the kingdom of the shore, And the firm soil win of the watery main, Increasing store with loss and loss with store; When I have seen such interchange of state...
Page 59 - Than all thy brothers : cherish it, my boy, And noble offices thou mayst effect Of mediation, after I am dead, Between his greatness and thy other brethren : Therefore omit him not ; blunt not his love, Nor lose the good advantage of his grace By seeming cold or careless of his will ; For he is gracious, if he be observed : 30 He hath a tear for pity and a hand Open as day for melting charity...
Page 36 - Sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness ? Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs, Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee, And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber ; Than in the perfum'd chambers of the great...
Page 36 - Who take the ruffian billows by the top, Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them With deafening clamour in the slippery clouds, That, with the hurly, death itself awakes ? Canst thou, O partial sleep, give thy repose To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude ; And in the calmest and most stillest night, With all appliances and means to boot, Deny it to a king ? Then happy low, lie down ! Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.

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