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BLANK VERSE. |
20I |
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Thou know'st, being stopped, impatiently doth rage ;
But when his fair course is not hindered,
He makes sweet music with the enamell'd stones,
Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge
He overtaketh in his pilgrimage ;
And so, by many winding nooks he strays,
With willing sport to the wild oce-an.
u Two Gentlemen of Verona"
The air is full of noises, Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not. Sometimes a thousand twanging instruments Will hum about mine ears; and sometimes voices, That, if I then had waked after long sleep, Will make me sleep again ; and then, in dreaming, The clouds, methought, would open and show riches Ready to drop upon me : that, when I waked, I cried to dream again.
" Temfiest."
O Proserpina, For the flowers now that, frighted, thou lett'st fall From Dis's waggon ! daffodils That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes, Or Cytherea's breath ; pale primroses, That die unmarried ere they can behold Bright Phoebus in his strength,—a malady Most incident to maids ; bold oxlips, and The crown imperial ; lilies of all kinds, The flower-de-luce being one !
" Winter's Tale."
The proportion of run-on to end-stopt lines has been ascertained by Mr. Furnival to be one in eighteen in Love's Labour's Lost, and to gradually |
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