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Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more, Or, close the wall up with our English dead. ———-And you, good yeomen, Whose limb s were made in England, show us here The mettl
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Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more, Or, close the wall up with our English dead. ———-And you, good yeomen, Whose limb s were made in England, show us here The mettl
So! now 'tis ended, like an old wife's story. Webster When the first moments of surprise were over, Wilfr…
Be Mowbray's sins so heavy in his bosom, That they may break his foaming courser's back, And throw …
I found them winding of Marcello's corpse. And there was such a solemn melody, 'Twixt doleful songs…
All hail to the lordlings of high degree, Who live not more happy, though greater than we! Our pastimes to see, …
Shadows avaunt!—Richard's himself again. Richard III When the Black Knight—for it becomes necessary to resume…
O maid, unrelenting and cold as thou art, My bosom is proud as thine own. —Seward It was in the twilight of t…
—-There I throw my gage, To prove it on thee to the extremest point Of martial daring. —Richard II Even Lucas…
Stern was the law which bade its vot'ries leave At human woes with human hearts to grieve; Stern was the…
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