Bacon and Shake-speare Parallelisms

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Gay and Bird, 1902 - 441 pages
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Page 169 - Her own shall bless her: Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn, And hang their heads with sorrow. Good grows with her; In her days every man shall eat in safety Under his own vine what he plants, and sing The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours.
Page 65 - So, oft it chances in particular men, That for some vicious mole of nature in them, As, in their birth, wherein they are not guilty, Since nature cannot choose his origin, By the o'ergrowth of some complexion, Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason, Or by some habit that too much o'er-leavens The form of plausive manners...
Page 128 - There are a sort of men, whose visages Do cream and mantle like a standing pond; And do a wilful stillness entertain, With purpose to be dress'd in an opinion Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit; As who should say, ' I am Sir Oracle, And, when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!
Page 182 - Yet nature is made better by no mean, But nature makes that mean : so, o'er that art Which you say adds to nature, is an art That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry A gentler scion to the wildest stock, And make conceive a bark of baser kind By bud of nobler race : this is an art ~\\ hich does mend nature, — change it rather ; but The art itself is nature.
Page 371 - tis, to cast one's eyes so low ! The crows and choughs that wing the midway air Show scarce so gross as beetles : half way down Hangs one that gathers samphire, — dreadful trade ! Methinks he seems no bigger than his head : The fishermen, that walk upon the beach, Appear like mice ; and yond tall anchoring bark, Diminish'd to her cock ; her cock, a buoy Almost too small for sight : the murmuring surge, That on the unnumber'd idle pebbles chafes, Cannot be heard so high. — I'll look no more ;...
Page 264 - There is a history in all men's lives, Figuring the nature of the times deceas'd : The which observ'd, a man may prophesy, With a near aim, of the main chance of things As yet not come to life ; which in their seeds, And weak beginnings, lie intreasured. Such things become the hatch and brood of time...
Page 159 - Swift as a shadow, short as any dream ; Brief as the lightning in the collied night, That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth. And ere a man hath power to say, — Behold ! The jaws of darkness do devour it up : So quick bright things come to confusion.
Page 255 - Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me ! You would play upon me ; you would seem to know my stops ; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery ; you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass : and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ ; yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe ? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me.
Page 106 - The earth that's nature's mother is her tomb; What is her burying grave that is her womb, And from her womb children of divers kind We sucking on her natural bosom find, Many for many virtues excellent, None but for some and yet all different.
Page 68 - Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul Of the wide world dreaming on things to come, Can yet the lease of my true love control, Supposed as forfeit to a confined doom.

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