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Updated: May 19, 2025


Shakspeare, in the "Merchant of Venice," makes Gratiano allude to the metempsychosis, where he says to Shylock: "Thou almost mak'st me waver in my faith, To hold opinion with Pythagoras, That souls of animals infuse themselves Into the trunks of men; thy currish spirit Governed a wolf; who hanged for human slaughter Infused his soul in thee; for thy desires Are wolfish, bloody, starved and ravenous."

Shakespeare, in the Merchant of Venice, makes Gratiano allude to the metempsychosis, where he says to Shylock: "Thou almost mak'st me waver in my faith, To hold opinion with Pythagoras, That souls of animals infuse themselves Into the trunks of men; thy currish spirit Governed a wolf; who hanged for human slaughter Infused his soul in thee; for thy desires Are wolfish, bloody, starved, and ravenous."

'I towd thee, my dear, said Stephen Blackpool 'that night that I would never see or think o' onnything that angered me, but thou, so much better than me, should'st be beside it. Thou'rt beside it now. Thou mak'st me see it wi' a better eye. Bless thee. Good night. Good-bye! It was but a hurried parting in a common street, yet it was a sacred remembrance to these two common people.

And who hath provoked thee to turn from my pain? All manner of elegance in thee is found And all fashions of fairness thy form doth contain. The hearts of all mortals thou stir'st with desire And on everyone's lids thou mak'st sleeplessness reign. I know that the branch has been plucked before thee; So, O capparis-branch, thou dost wrong, it is plain. I used erst to capture myself the wild deer.

In a Chaldaean poem the hero would have bid farewell to the stars! It is thus that Ajax concludes his celebrated soliloquy. "And thou that mak'st high heaven thy chariot-course, Oh sun when gazing on my father-land, Draw back thy golden rein, and tell my woes To the old man, my father and to her Who nursed me at her bosom my poor mother!

Shakspeare, in the "Merchant of Venice," makes Gratiano allude to the metempsychosis, where he says to Shylock: "Thou almost mak'st me waver in my faith, To hold opinion with Pythagoras, That souls of animals infuse themselves Into the trunks of men; thy currish spirit Governed a wolf; who hanged for human slaughter Infused his soul in thee; for thy desires Are wolfish, bloody, starved and ravenous."

If thou art one who tradeth in both ways: God's now, the devil's then; or if delays Thou mak'st of coming to thy God for life; Or if thy light and lusts are at a strife About who should be master of thy soul, And lovest one, the other dost control; These prophets tell thee can which way thou bendest, On which thou frown'st, to which a hand thou lendest.

Oh, human soul, as long as thou canst so, Set up a mark of everlasting light Above the heaving senses' ebb and flow ... Not with lost toil thou labourest through the night, Thou mak'st the heaven thou hop'st indeed thy home. Autosuggestion, far from producing callousness, dictates the method and supplies the means by which the truest sympathy can be practised.

'All the air is thy diocese, And all the chirping choristers And other birds are thy parishioners: Thou marriest every year The lyrique lark, and the grave whispering dove, The sparrow, that neglects his life for love, The household bird with the red stomacher; Thou mak'st the blackbird speed as soon As doth the goldfinch or the halcyon. In fact, it would appear that St.

For them no goddess, no fair poets reign, They hear no singing, as the earth along They move to their dull tasks; they live, they wane, They die, and dying, not a thought of thee retain. Thou art the Muse of whom the Grecian knew, The power that reigneth in each loving heart; From thee the sages their great teachings drew. Thou mak'st life tuneful by the poet's art.

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