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Updated: June 19, 2025
That is Elizabethan. Cor. Hear'st thou, Mars? Auf. Name not the god thou Boy of tears. Cor. Ha! Auf. Cor. Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart Too great for what contains it. Boy? O Slave! .... Boy? False hound! 'Boy? O slave! ... Boy? But it is Volumnia herself who searches to the quick the principle of this boyish sovereignty, in her satire on the undivine passion she wishes to unseat.
I shou'd sue for that, Which my Deceit will never make me hope. Bel. And art thou true to Love, and all thy Vows? Ah, Friendlove, when thou hear'st my Story told, Thou wilt forgive, and pity me. Dia. What was't you said, Sir? Friendlove! Friend. Yes, Madam, I hope the Name can make no difference; Or hate that still, so you but love the Man. Dia.
Wildly the owls are flitting, Hark to the pillars splitting Of palaces verdant ever, The branches quiver and sever, The mighty stems are creaking, The poor roots breaking and shrieking, In wild mixt ruin down dashing, O'er one another they're crashing; Whilst 'midst the rocks so hoary, Whirlwinds hurry and worry. Hear'st not, sister " "Hark!" said Belle, "hark!"
'True, said lord Charles; 'it was a very scurvy inn, but we must not forget that the reckoning was cheap. While he spoke, one of the household had approached the marquis, who sat on the other side of the carriage, and said something in a low voice. 'Say'st thou so! returned his lordship. Hear'st thou, my lord Charles? Thou talkest of a cheap reckoning!
'Doctor, the Thanes fly from me. 'If thou couldst, Doctor, cast The water of MY LAND, find her disease, And purge it to a sound and pristine health, I would applaud thee to the very echo, That should applaud again. 'What rhubarb, senna, or what purgative drug, Would scour these English hence? Hear'st thou of them? 'Cousins, I hope the days are near at hand That chambers will be safe.
Hear'st thou the dash of water loud and hoarse With its perpetual tidings upward climb, Struggling against the wind? Oh, how sublime! For not in vain from its portentous source, Thy heart, wild stream, hath yearned for its full force, But from thine ice-toothed caverns dark as time At last thou issuest, dancing to the rhyme Of thy outvolleying freedom!
Hear'st thou, in thy thorny den, Tramp of rural policemen, Inly fancying, in thy rear Coats of blue and buttons clear, While to meet thee, in the van Stalks some vengeful alderman? Each separate sense bringing a notion Of forms that teach thee locomotion!
'True, said lord Charles; 'it was a very scurvy inn, but we must not forget that the reckoning was cheap. While he spoke, one of the household had approached the marquis, who sat on the other side of the carriage, and said something in a low voice. 'Say'st thou so! returned his lordship. Hear'st thou, my lord Charles? Thou talkest of a cheap reckoning!
Or hear'st thou, rather, pure Eternal Stream, Whose fountain who shall tell? Before the sun, Before the Heavens thou wert, and at the voice Of God as with a mantle didst invest The rising world of waters dark and deep, Won from the void and formless Infinite!" Later in spring there was plowing, though the farm was so rocky and stony, there was little of that work to do.
'I say, returned a black, bronzed hunter, pressing to the front, 'that what I hold of thee, King William, on tenure of homage, and of two good horses and staunch hounds yearly, I yield to no English mongrel churl, who dares to meddle with me. 'Thou hear'st, lad, said Rufus, with his accustomed oath, 'homage hath been done to us for the land, nor may it be taken back. Out of our way, or
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