Remorse: A Tragedy, in Five ActsW. Pople, 1813 - 72 páginas |
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Página 4
... Night after night , she visited my sleep , Now as a saintly sufferer , wan and tearful , Now as a saint in glory beckoning to me ! Yes , still as in contempt of proof and reason , I cherish the fond faith that she is guiltless ! Hear ...
... Night after night , she visited my sleep , Now as a saintly sufferer , wan and tearful , Now as a saint in glory beckoning to me ! Yes , still as in contempt of proof and reason , I cherish the fond faith that she is guiltless ! Hear ...
Página 8
... night : My love , a timorous and tender flower , Closes beneath his touch . Vald . You wrong him , maiden ! You wrong him , by my soul ! Nor was it well To character by such unkindly phrases The stir and workings of that love for you ...
... night : My love , a timorous and tender flower , Closes beneath his touch . Vald . You wrong him , maiden ! You wrong him , by my soul ! Nor was it well To character by such unkindly phrases The stir and workings of that love for you ...
Página 15
... night breeze blows healing . I pray you think us friends ! Alo . ( raising his head . ) Calm , very calm ! ' Tis all too tranquil for reality ! And she spoke to me with her innocent voice , That voice , that innocent voice ! She is no ...
... night breeze blows healing . I pray you think us friends ! Alo . ( raising his head . ) Calm , very calm ! ' Tis all too tranquil for reality ! And she spoke to me with her innocent voice , That voice , that innocent voice ! She is no ...
Página 16
... night I am myself a dreamer , And slight things bring on me the idle mood ! Well sir , what happen'd then ? Alv . On a rude rock , A rock , methought , fast by a grove of firs , Whose threaddy leaves to the low - breathing gale Made a ...
... night I am myself a dreamer , And slight things bring on me the idle mood ! Well sir , what happen'd then ? Alv . On a rude rock , A rock , methought , fast by a grove of firs , Whose threaddy leaves to the low - breathing gale Made a ...
Página 21
... Isid . He himself told me . Ord . And who told you ? Ha ! you talk'd with him ! And those , the two Morescoes who were with you ? Isid . Both fell in a night brawl at Malaga . Ord . ( in a low voice . ) My A TRAGEDY . 21-
... Isid . He himself told me . Ord . And who told you ? Ha ! you talk'd with him ! And those , the two Morescoes who were with you ? Isid . Both fell in a night brawl at Malaga . Ord . ( in a low voice . ) My A TRAGEDY . 21-
Otras ediciones - Ver todas
Remorse. A Tragedy, in Five Acts Wordsworth Collection,Samuel Taylor 1772-1834 Coleridge Sin vista previa disponible - 2018 |
Remorse. A Tragedy, in Five Acts Wordsworth Collection,Samuel Taylor 1772-1834 Coleridge Sin vista previa disponible - 2018 |
Términos y frases comunes
Alhad ALHADRA Alvar anguish art thou assassin babe bless blood brother Captur'd cavern Chancery Lane chasm coward curse dare dark dead dear death didst dost doth dream dungeon dup'd Enter TERESA Exeunt Exit faint faith fancy father fear feelings fool groan guilt hath hear heard heart heaven husband innocent innocent voice Isid Isidore kill'd lady light listen liv'd live look round Lord Ordonio Lord Valdez lov'd MONVIEDRO moonlight moonshine Moorish Moors Moresco Mountebank murder murder'd Music Naomi ne'er neck night o'er pang pass'd pause portrait pray REMORSE return'd robes S. T. COLERIDGE SCENE scorn scruple seem'd sleep smile son of Valdez soul speak spirit stept strange sweet sword tale tears There's thing thought thro told torch traitor truth Twas Vald villain voice wake wild wildly wizard woman would'st wretched ZULIMEZ
Pasajes populares
Página 62 - THE DUNGEON. And this place our forefathers made for man! This is the process of our love and wisdom, To each poor brother who offends against us — Most innocent, perhaps — and what if guilty? Is this the only cure? Merciful God! Each pore and natural outlet...
Página 2 - Remorse is as the heart in which it grows : If that be gentle, it drops balmy dews Of true repentance ; but if proud and gloomy, It is a poison-tree, that pierced to the inmost Weeps only tears of poison.
Página 62 - With other ministrations thou. O nature! 20 Healest thy wandering and distempered child: Thou pourest on him thy soft influences. Thy sunny hues, fair forms, and breathing sweets, Thy melodies of woods, and winds, and waters, Till he relent, and can no more endure 25 To be a jarring and a dissonant thing, Amid this general dance and minstrelsy; But, bursting into tears, wins back his way. His angry spirit healed and harmonized By the benignant touch of love and beauty.
Página 34 - Cease thy swift toils ! Since haply thou art one Of that innumerable company Who in broad circle, lovelier than the rainbow, Girdle this round earth in a dizzy motion...
Página 62 - Circled with evil, till his very soul Unmoulds its essence, hopelessly deformed By sights of evermore deformity ! With other ministrations thou, 0 Nature, Healest thy wandering and distempered child : Thou pourest on him thy soft influences, Thy sunny hues, fair forms, and breathing sweets, Thy melodies of woods, and winds, and waters ! Till he relent, and can no...
Página 26 - Time, as he courses onwards, still unrolls The volume of Concealment. In the Future, As in the optician's glassy cylinder, The indistinguishable blots and colours Of the dim Past collect and shape themselves, Upstarting in their own completed image To scare or to reward.
Página 63 - With other ministrations thou, O Nature ! Healest thy wandering and distempered child : Thou pourest on him thy soft influences, Thy sunny hues, fair forms, and breathing sweets ; Thy melodies of woods, and winds, and waters ! Till he relent, and can no more endure To be a jarring and a dissonant thing Amid this general dance and minstrelsy ; But, bursting into tears, wins back his way, His angry spirit healed and harmonized By the benignant touch of love and beauty.
Página 62 - Then we call in our pamper'd mountebanks — And this is their best cure! uncomforted And friendless solitude, groaning and tears, And savage faces, at the clanking hour Seen through the steams and vapour of his dungeon, By the lamp's dismal twilight!