The universal anthology, a collection of the best literature, with biographical and explanatory notes, ed. by R. Garnett, L. Vallée, A. Brandl. Imperial ed, Volume 5

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Richard Garnett
1899
 

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Page 184 - He heard it, but he heeded not - his eyes Were with his heart, and that was far away He reck'd not of the life he lost nor prize, But where his rude hut by the Danube lay There were his young barbarians all at play, There was their Dacian mother - he, their sire, Butcher'd to make a Roman holiday All this rush'd with his blood - Shall he expire And unavenged?
Page 220 - If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. You all do know this mantle: I remember The first time ever Caesar put it on; 'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent, That day he overcame the Nervii: Look, in this place ran Cassius...
Page 95 - I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine. I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honoring thee As giving it a hope, that there It could not withered be. But thou thereon didst only breathe, And sent'st it back to me; Since when it grows, and smells, I swear, Not of itself, but thee.
Page 215 - Romans, countrymen, and lovers! hear me for my cause; and be silent that you may hear: believe me for mine honour; and have respect to mine honour, that you may believe: censure me in your wisdom; and awake your senses that you may the better judge. If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of Caesar's, to him I say, that Brutus' love to Ca;sar was no less than his.
Page 192 - Other Romans shall arise, Heedless of a soldier's name; Sounds, not arms, shall win the prize, Harmony the path to fame. "Then the progeny that springs From the forests of our land, Armed with thunder, clad with wings, Shall a wider world command.
Page 220 - This was the most unkindest cut of all ; For when the noble Caesar saw him stab, Ingratitude, more strong than traitors...
Page 221 - Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up To such a sudden flood of mutiny. They, that have done this deed, are honourable; What private griefs they have, alas, I know not, That made them do it; they are wise and honourable, And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you.
Page 191 - WHEN the British warrior queen, Bleeding from the Roman rods, Sought, with' an indignant mien, Counsel of her country's gods, Sage beneath the spreading oak Sat the Druid, hoary chief; Every burning word he spoke Full of rage and full of grief.
Page 219 - Caesar lov'd you. You are not wood, you are not stones, but men ; And, being men, hearing the will of Caesar, It will inflame you, it will make you mad. 'Tis good you know not that you are his heirs ; For, if you should, O, what would come of it!
Page 220 - O, what a fall was there, my countrymen! Then I, and you, and all of us fell down, Whilst bloody treason flourish'd over us. O, now you weep ; and, I perceive, you feel The dint of pity : these are gracious drops. Kind souls, what, weep you, when you but behold Our Caesar's vesture wounded ? Look you here, Here is himself, marr'd, as you see, with traitors.

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