Copeland's Treasury for Booklovers: A Panorama of English and American Poetry and Prose from the Earliest Times to the Present, Volume 1 |
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Page 30
10 Leave off from sin , and order thine hands aright , and cleanse thy heart from all wickedness , II Give a sweet savour , and a memorial of fine flour ; and make a fat offering , as not being . 12 Then give place to the physician ...
10 Leave off from sin , and order thine hands aright , and cleanse thy heart from all wickedness , II Give a sweet savour , and a memorial of fine flour ; and make a fat offering , as not being . 12 Then give place to the physician ...
Page 43
And may the gods grant thee all thy heart's desire : a husband and a home , and a mind at one with his may they give - a good gift , for there is nothing mightier and nobler than when man and wife are of one heart and mind in a house ...
And may the gods grant thee all thy heart's desire : a husband and a home , and a mind at one with his may they give - a good gift , for there is nothing mightier and nobler than when man and wife are of one heart and mind in a house ...
Page 147
Brutus hath riv'd my heart . A friend should bear his friend's infirmities , But Brutus makes mine greater than they are . Bru . I do not , till you practise them on me . Cas . You love me not . Bru . I do not like your faults . Cas .
Brutus hath riv'd my heart . A friend should bear his friend's infirmities , But Brutus makes mine greater than they are . Bru . I do not , till you practise them on me . Cas . You love me not . Bru . I do not like your faults . Cas .
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answered appear bear behold better blood body bring called comes Dang daughter dead dear death doth earth Enter eyes face fair fall father fear fell fire follow Fret gave give hand happy hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hold hope keep kind king Lady land leave light live look lord matter mean meet mind morning mother nature never night once pass person play pleasure poor praise pray Puff Queen rest round scene seen sent side sleep Sneer soon soul speak spirit stand sure sweet sword tell thee things thou thought thousand told took tree true turn unto voice wind young