"Is't" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... And this is my reward—to burn, to languish, To rave, unheeded; while the happy Greek, The refuse of our swords, the dross of conquest, Throws his fond arms about Aspasia's neck, Dwells on her lips, and sighs upon her breast. Is't not enough, he lives by our indulgence, But he must live ...
— Dr. Johnson's Works: Life, Poems, and Tales, Volume 1 - The Works Of Samuel Johnson, Ll.D., In Nine Volumes • Samuel Johnson
... him bring Mirth to the toiling million. What is't he bears—a gracious thing— Behind him on the pillion? Her snowy garb, and smile benign, Make sunshine in dark places; The gentlest, rarest, most divine Of all the Christian graces. Her eyes are full ...
— Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 103, December 24, 1892 • Various
... I could unblushing write, Fear not that pen that shall thy praise indite, When high-born blood my adoration draws, Exalted glory and unblemished cause; A theme so all divine my muse shall wing, What is't for thee, great prince, I will not sing? No bounds shall stop my Pegasean flight, I'll spot my Hind, and make my Panther white. * * * * * But if, great prince, my feeble strength shall fail, Thy theme I'll to my successors entail; My heirs the unfinished subject shall complete: I have ...
— The Dramatic Works of John Dryden Vol. I. - With a Life of the Author • Sir Walter Scott
... old hag; what matter is't of thine?" began Mistress Maud, but again came the harsh laugh. "Matter of mine! Why, whose matter should it be but mine, that have nursed all three of the lads, ay, and their father before them, besides four more ...
— The Armourer's Prentices • Charlotte Mary Yonge
... have slept an age. Sir Paul, what o'clock is't? Past eight, on my conscience; my lady's is the most inviting couch, and a slumber there is the prettiest amusement! ...
— The Comedies of William Congreve - Volume 1 [of 2] • William Congreve
... gammon Is counted dainty fare; But what is't to a salmon Just taken from the Ware; Wheat-ears and quailes, Cocks, snipes and rayles, Are prized while season's lasting, But all must stoop to crawfish soup, Or I've no skill in casting. ...
— History of English Humour, Vol. 1 (of 2) - With an Introduction upon Ancient Humour • Alfred Guy Kingan L'Estrange
... been studying the rantipoles of Will Shakspeare, Hal. What is't, man? Is thy bile at boiling heat because I have lit upon thee billing and cooing with the forester's fair niece—poh! man—there be brighter eyes than hers, ...
— Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine—Vol. 54, No. 333, July 1843 • Various
... Now, jist say the word at once, an' let's have an end on't. If you agree, I'll squat with you in whativer bit o' the States you like to name; if not, I'll bid you good-bye this blessed mornin', an' make tracks right away for the Rocky Mountains afore sundown. Ay or no, lass: which is't to be?' ...
— The Young Fur Traders • R.M. Ballantyne
... pretty fellow weep, why not another?" added Wilks. "Here—where is't he says that, when she went out, for many moments the pit was silent as the grave—and that then the applause was deep—not shrill—and very long? 'Gad, if 'tis a Barry come again, and we could lay hands on her, the house would ...
— Audrey • Mary Johnston
... poor miserable wretch, and canst hardly earn a livelihood with all thy toil. Is't not a pleasant thing and a desirable, however procured, to obtain wealth at will, and every happiness and delight ...
— Traditions of Lancashire, Volume 2 (of 2) • John Roby
... can the heir of wealthy Jerningham? And therefore is the false fox now in hand To strike a match betwixt her and th' other; And the old gray-beards now are close together, Plotting it in the garden. Is't even so? Raymond Mounchensey, boy, have thou and I Thus long at Cambridge read the liberall Arts, The Metaphysickes, Magicke, and those parts Of the most secret deep philosophy? Have I so many melancholy nights Watch'd on the top of Peter-house highest Tower? And come we back unto ...
— The Merry Devil • William Shakespeare
... "Is't possible (O my countrymen) for any living to be so happy as myself? No sure it cannot be, for the gods have shown all their power, all their goodness in me." Yet by and by when this young gallant was crossed in his wench, ...
— The Anatomy of Melancholy • Democritus Junior
... you hear the hounds holler, or one of them chaps shoot, then look you out right stret away for business! Cale, here, and I'll take the small boat, and keep in sight of you; and so we can kiver all this eend of the pond like, if the deer tries to cross hereaways. How long is't, Cale, since we had six on them all at once in the water—six—seven— eight! well, I swon, it's ten years agone now! But come, we mus'nt stand here talkin, else we'll get a dammin when they drives down a buck into the pond, and none ...
— Warwick Woodlands - Things as they Were There Twenty Years Ago • Henry William Herbert (AKA Frank Forester)
... Malcolm, whose own trouble had never at any time rendered him insensible to that of others. "But is't onybody 'at kens what he says?" ...
— The Marquis of Lossie • George MacDonald
... make conditions. Bru. Go to; you are not, Cassius. Cas. I am. Bru. I say you are not. Cas. Urge me no more, I shall forget myself: Have mind upon your health; tempt me no further. Bru. Away, slight man! Cas. Is't possible? Bru. Hear me, for I will speak. Must I give way and room to your rash choler? Shall I be frighted when a madman stares? Cas. O ye gods! ye gods! must I endure all this? Bru. All this! Ay, ...
— McGuffey's Sixth Eclectic Reader • William Holmes McGuffey
... What is't! Nay, gad, I'll punish you for want of apprehension. The deuce take me ...
— The Comedies of William Congreve - Volume 1 [of 2] • William Congreve
... no riddle now To let you see how A church by oppression may speed; Nor is't banter or jest, That the kirk faith is best On the other side ...
— Poems (Volume II.) • Jonathan Swift
... a plot upon mine honour; And thus he lays his baits to catch my soul:— Ha! but the presence opens; who comes here? By heaven, my niece! led by Alphonso Corso! Ha, Malicorn! is't possible? truth from thee! 'Tis plain! and I, in justifying woman, ...
— The Works Of John Dryden, Vol. 7 (of 18) - The Duke of Guise; Albion and Albanius; Don Sebastian • John Dryden
... knowledge Uncle, is't not worth mony? what's my understanding, travel, reading, wit, all these digested, my daily making men, some to speak, that too much flegm had frozen up, some that spoke too much, to hold their peace, and put their tongues to pensions, some to wear their cloaths, ...
— Wit Without Money - The Works of Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher • Francis Beaumont
... word; is't not sufficient? What! do you think I would tell a lie to save such a paltry thing as a night's ...
— The Works of John Dryden, Vol. II • Edited by Walter Scott
... the crusty old soldier spoke these words, the white anxiety in Sholto's face struck through his half-humorous complaint, and the words died on his lips in a perturbed "What is't—what ...
— The Black Douglas • S. R. Crockett
... am I? whither is't you lead me? Methinks I read distraction in your face,— You shake and tremble, too! your blood runs cold! Heav'ns guard my love, and bless his heart with patience! Jaf. That I have patience, let our fate ...
— Venice Preserved - A Tragedy in Five Acts • Thomas Otway
... leafy caves of sadness and sweet sounds, That have no feeling nor a fellowship With the rash moods of terror and of pain, I did not think ye could, in such an hour, So steal from me, as in a sleep, a dream— What is't that comes between me and the light? Protect me, Jove! Lo, what untended flowers, That all night long, like little wakeful babes, Darkly repine, and weep themselves asleep, In the orient morning ...
— The International Monthly Magazine, Volume 5, No. 1, January, 1852 • Various
... long this rigour rife of woe * May not suffice thee all these tears thou seest flow? Our parting thus with purpose fell thou dost prolong * Is't not enough to glad the heart of envious foe? Were but this lying world once true to lover heart * He had not watched the weary night in tears of woe: Oh pity me whom overwhelmed thy cruel will * My lord, my king, 'tis time some ruth to me thou show: To ...
— The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night, Volume 1 • Richard F. Burton
... the sworder and the blood-skin waiting me I sight, * And cry, Alack, mine evil fate! ah, my calamity! How is't I see no loving friend with eye of sense or soul? * What! no one here? I cry to all: will none reply to me? The time is past that formed my life, my death term draweth nigh, * Will no man win the grace of God showing me clemency; And look with pity on my state, ...
— The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night, Volume 2 • Richard F. Burton
... it, Enchanting and transforming that his fancy did not fit. As I may see by these his vile blasphemous books; My soul abhors as often as mine eye upon them looks. What gain can countervail the danger that they bring, For man to sell his soul to sin, is't not a grievous thing? To captivate his mind, and all the gifts therein, To that which is of others all the most ungracious sin; Which so entangleth them that thereunto apply, As at the last forsaketh them in their extremity. Such is this art, such is ...
— A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Vol. VI • Robert Dodsley
... This poore Urania Loves an unfortunate sheapheard, one that's mad, Tysiphone, Canst thou believe it? Elegant Urania— I cannot speak it without tears—still loves Amyntas, the distracted mad Amyntas. Is't not a constant Nymph?—But I will goe And carry all Elysium on my back, And that ...
— Pastoral Poetry and Pastoral Drama - A Literary Inquiry, with Special Reference to the Pre-Restoration - Stage in England • Walter W. Greg
... is't fools make such vain keeping? Sin their conception, their birth weeping, Their life a general mist of error, Their death a hideous ...
— Sketches and Studies in Italy and Greece, Complete - Series I, II, and III • John Symonds
... wull o' God, I wad be a leear; gien I say man or woman has naething ither to do i' this warl' or the neist, I say it believin' ilkane o' them maun come til't at the lang last. Feow sees't yet, but the time's comin' when ilkabody will be as sure o' 't as I am. What won'er is't that I say't, wi' Jesus tellin' me the same ...
— The Elect Lady • George MacDonald
... "Weel, Marjory, what is't?" she asked, as Marjory entered the kitchen. Lisbeth had never adopted the formal "Miss" in her mode of addressing Marjory, the baby she had seen grow up. She had determined that when the "bairn" ...
— Hunter's Marjory - A Story for Girls • Margaret Bruce Clarke
... young one? what? why pull so at thy cord? Is it not well with thee? well both for bed and board? Thy plot of grass is soft, and green as grass can be; Rest, little young one, rest; what is't that aileth thee? ...
— Phebe, the Blackberry Girl - Uncle Thomas's Stories for Good Children • Anonymous
... likes you, and never be offended by her nonsense. A council of three—you all sat upon it—Mrs. Rusk, you said, and Mary Quince, and your wise self, the weird sisters; and Austin stepped in, as Macbeth, and said, 'What is't ye do?' you all made answer together, 'A something or other without a name!' Now, seriously, my dear, it is quite unpardonable in Austin—your papa, I mean—to hand you over to be robed and bedizened according to the whimsies of these wild old ...
— Uncle Silas - A Tale of Bartram-Haugh • J.S. Le Fanu
... mother at her spinning-wheel, Good woman, stood and spun, "And what," says she, "is come o'er you, Is't ...
— The Wit of Women - Fourth Edition • Kate Sanborn
... how is't? you that be of the graver sort, do you think these youths worthy of a plaudite for praying for the queen, and singing the litany? They are poor fellows, I must needs say, and have bestowed great labour in sewing leaves, and grass, and straw, ...
— A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Vol. VIII (4th edition) • Various
... space below Is fir'd with many stars: mark! how they break In silent glances o'er the hills, and speak The evening to the plains, where, shot from far, They meet in dumb salutes, as one great star. The room, methinks, grows darker; and the air Contracts a sadder colour, and less fair. Or is't the drawer's skill? hath he no arts To blind us so we can't know pints from quarts? No, no, 'tis night: look where the jolly clown Musters his bleating herd and quits the down. Hark! how his rude pipe frets ...
— Poems of Henry Vaughan, Silurist, Volume II • Henry Vaughan
... his hand smote his forehead. "I grow blind; hands! stretch out before me that I may yet grope my way. Is't night?" ...
— Great Sea Stories • Various
... and this from you! Is't thus you Bowman [25] treat, Who eats more toads than you know who Each ...
— Quaint Gleanings from Ancient Poetry • Edmund Goldsmid
... Or is't not Juno, Heaven's great dame, Or Pallas armed, as on she came To assist the Greeks in fight, Or Cynthia, that huntress bold, Or from old Tithon's bed so cold, ...
— The Home Book of Verse, Vol. 1 (of 4) • Various
... fresh into another, Ere change hath lost the charm of soft regret, And feel the immortal impulse from within Which makes the coming life cry always, On! And follow it while strong, is heaven's last mercy. There is a fire-fly in the south, but shines When on the wing. So is't with mind. When once We rest, we darken. On! saith God to the soul, As unto the earth for ever. On it goes, A rejoicing native of the infinite, As is a bird, of ...
— The World's Best Poetry, Volume 3 - Sorrow and Consolation • Various
... is't? Wa-a-l, every country has its ways, I s'pose. Jarmany is a desp'ate aristocratic land, ...
— The Redskins; or, Indian and Injin, Volume 1. - Being the Conclusion of the Littlepage Manuscripts • James Fenimore Cooper
... Ah! Manuel! thou art elderly and wise, And couldst say much; thou hast dwelt within the castle— How many years is't? ...
— The Works of Lord Byron, Volume 4 • Lord Byron
... in a bold and seemly manner," said the stranger; "and he hath shown the metal of his grandsire's stock—ha! what is't we see gleaming among the sheds? A sortie may be needed, to save the granaries ...
— The Wept of Wish-Ton-Wish • James Fenimore Cooper
... sheen of thy soul and the sheen of thy smile,[FN297] * Say, moan'st thou for doubt or is't ring-dove's moan? How many have died who by love were slain! * Fails my patience but blaming ...
— Supplemental Nights, Volume 2 • Richard F. Burton
... does not smile—my own. My Self, beheld with my own eyes, so vacant As if one glass but mirrored forth another, Unconscious.—Oh for higher vision yet, For but one moment infinitely brief, To see how stands upon her spirit's mirror My image! Is't an old man she beholds? Am I as young as oft I deem myself, When in the silent night I lie and listen To hear my blood surge through its winding course? Is it not being young, to have so little Of rigidness or hardness in my nature? I feel as if my spirit, nursed ...
— The German Classics, v. 20 - Masterpieces of German Literature • Various
... been flame kindled by travellers at night in a thorny bramble-bush, and he ruffled, and heaved, and was as when dense jungle-growths are stirred violently by the near approach of a wild animal in his fury, shouting in short breaths, 'A barber! a barber! Is't so? can it be? To me? A barber! O thou, thou reptile! filthy thing! A barber! O dog! A barber? What? when I bid fair for the highest honours known? O sacrilegious wretch! monster! How? are the Afrites jealous, that they send ...
— The Shaving of Shagpat • George Meredith
... Or is't the widowed's dream of her new mate? Seen has she virulent days of heat in flood; The sly Persuader snaky in his blood; With her the barren Huntress alternate; His rough refractory off on kicking heels To rear; the man dragged rearward, ...
— The Shaving of Shagpat • George Meredith
... thy live leg here in the place where mine once was; so, now, here is only one distinct leg to the eye, yet two to the soul. Where thou feelest tingling life; there, exactly there, there to a hair, do I. Is't a riddle? ...
— Moby Dick; or The Whale • Herman Melville
... dishonest wretch! Wilt thou be made a man out of my vice? Is't not a kind of incest to take life From thine own sister's shame? What should I think? Heaven shield, my mother play'd my father fair! For such a warped slip of wilderness Ne'er issued from his blood. Take my defiance; Die! perish! might but my bending down, Reprieve thee from thy fate, it ...
— Characteristics of Women - Moral, Poetical, and Historical • Anna Jameson
... for my comfort—that's good too; And God, if he pronounce upon such life, Approves my service, which is better still. If he keep silence,—why, for you or me Or that brute beast pulled-up in to-day's "Times," What odds is't, save to ourselves, ...
— Browning's England - A Study in English Influences in Browning • Helen Archibald Clarke
... every gang o' hungry hunters," added Flaxman. "Is't sage, or savory sprinkled on this meat? This plum sauce don't cly my appetite a bit; nor these fried scutlets; and I love to gnash my shovel-teeth on a clean comb o' honey; and honey, ...
— Summerfield - or, Life on a Farm • Day Kellogg Lee
... had flung me; but sore stunn'd, "A cable caught, and sav'd me. Loud the crew "The impious deed applauded. Bacchus rose, "(The boy was Bacchus!) with the tumult loud "Rous'd from his sleep;—the fumes of wine dispell'd, "His senses seem'd restor'd. What is't you do? "What noise is this? he cry'd;—What brought me here? "O, mariners! inform me;—tell me where "You carry me! Fear not,—the pilot said,— "Say but the port, where most thou'dst chuse to land;— "Thither we straight ...
— The Metamorphoses of Publius Ovidus Naso in English blank verse Vols. I & II • Ovid
... "Is't not enough? What will the burghers say to me? What will the burghs do?" Then he suddenly burst out again, "A hundred crowns to him who shall recover them; all, mind, all that were in this box. If one be missing, I ...
— The Cloister and the Hearth • Charles Reade
... "Is't you, mister Ralph?" said Ben, rising as the door opened, and seating himself moodily on a bench, that his guest might come to the fire. "You look flustered, and out of sorts, but this isn't no place to get ship-shape in. It's awful ...
— Mabel's Mistake • Ann S. Stephens
... folly, which you try to paint In colours so detestable and black? Is't not the general gift of fate to men? And though some few may boast superior sense, Are they not call'd odd fellows by the rest? In any science, if this sense peep forth, Shew men the truth, and strive to turn their steps From ways wherein their gross forefathers err'd, ...
— Miscellanies, Volume 2 (from Works, Volume 12) • Henry Fielding
... captain," the Egyptian implored. "I promised my mither aye to count twenty afore I spoke, because she thocht I was ower glib. Captain, how is't that you're so ...
— The Little Minister • J.M. Barrie
... paling, which seemed the boundary of some cottage garden. As he reached the gate of this little enclosure, his outstretched hand was grasped by that of a female, whose voice at the same time uttered, 'Edward, is't thou, man?' ...
— Waverley, Or 'Tis Sixty Years Hence, Complete • Sir Walter Scott
... is't to be mastred by such beautie? Who but to serve you comes, how wants he dutie? Or, if it be a shame, the shame is yours; The fault is onely in your Eies, they drew me: Cause you were lovely therefore did I love. O, if to Love you anger you so much, You should ...
— Old English Plays, Vol. I - A Collection of Old English Plays • Various
... but chiels o' his stamp never gang straight to their mark. We'll follow him up this way. Hoe long is't sin' ye perted wi' him, said ee?" examining the place where the ...
— Freaks on the Fells - Three Months' Rustication • R.M. Ballantyne
... Is't not God's deed whatever thing is done In heaven and earth? Did not he all create To die again? all ends that were begun; Their times in his eternal books of fate Are written sure, and have their certain date, Who then can strive with strong necessity, That holds the ...
— The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction, No. 365 • Various
... "What is't, I wonder?" interrogates Woodley, in a whisper, placing himself in a kneeling posture, his eyes sharply ...
— The Death Shot - A Story Retold • Mayne Reid
... contrived my death And laid thy robber hands upon my state? Tell me, by heaven, had you seen in me A coward or a fool, when you planned this?— Deemed you I should be blind to your attempt Craftily creeping on, or, when perceived, Not ward it off? Is't not a silly scheme, To think to compass without troops of friends Power, that is only won ...
— The Seven Plays in English Verse • Sophocles
... is't? Lemme call long distance on it? I ain't got the tin now, but I'll pay ya when ...
— The City of Fire • Grace Livingston Hill
... an answer; but the voice instantly continued, in the manner of one half asleep and enraged at being disturbed, "Is't you, Peg? Damn ye, stay away, now! I tell ye, stay away, or, by God, I will cut your throat!—I will!" He continued to mutter and swear, but without ...
— Edgar Huntley • Charles Brockden Brown
... Tamburlaine, This Jew, with others many, th' other wan The attribute of peerless, being a man Whom we may rank with (doing no one wrong) Proteus for shapes, and Roscius for a tongue,— So could he speak, so vary; nor is't hate To merit in him [8] who doth personate Our Jew this day; nor is it his ambition To exceed or equal, being of condition More modest: this is all that he intends, (And that too at the urgence of some friends,) To prove his best, and, if none here gainsay ...
— The Jew of Malta • Christopher Marlowe
... '"How far is't called to Fores? What are these, So wither'd, and so wild in their attire That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth. ...
— The Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides with Samuel Johnson, LL.D. • James Boswell
... "Is't Nicholas ye seek, Master Attwood?" asked Tom Carpenter, turning from his fleurs-de-lis. "Why, sir, he's gone got famous, sir. I was in Coventry mysel' May-day; and—why, sir, Nick was all the talk! He sang there at the ...
— Master Skylark • John Bennett
... stop the parson, I couldn't take upon me to do that; and yet I said to myself, I says, "Suppose they shouldn't be fast married, 'cause the words are contrairy?" and my head went working like a mill, for I was allays uncommon for turning things over and seeing all round 'em; and I says to myself, "Is't the meanin' or the words as makes folks fast i' wedlock?" For the parson meant right, and the bride and bridegroom meant right. But then, when I come to think on it, meanin' goes but a little way i' most things, for you may mean to stick things together and your ...
— Silas Marner - The Weaver of Raveloe • George Eliot
... dost demand from me? Man, and man's plighted word, are these unknown to thee? Is't not enough, that by the word I gave, My doom for evermore is cast? Doth not the world in all its currents rave, And must a promise hold me fast? Yet fixed is this delusion in our heart; Who, of his own free ...
— The German Classics of The Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, • Editor-in-Chief: Kuno Francke
... my pretty sportive friend, Little is't to such an end That I praise thy rareness! Other dogs may be thy peers, Haply, in those drooping ears, And ...
— Anecdotes of Dogs • Edward Jesse
... is't now we hear? None but the lark so shrill and clear; Now at heaven's gate she claps her wings, The morn not waking ...
— Birds and Poets • John Burroughs
... "Mournful is't to say Farewell, Though for few brief hours we part; In that absence, who can tell What may come ...
— Mary Barton • Elizabeth Gaskell
... not blab if he would; thou seest that he is but a dull clownish lad, whose size has increased out of all proportion to his sense; wherefore I would fain hear what thou hast to say to it." "Alas!" said the other, "what is't thou sayst? Knowest thou not that we have vowed our virginity to God?" "Oh," rejoined the first, "think but how many vows are made to Him all day long, and never a one performed: and so, for our vow, ...
— The Decameron, Volume I • Giovanni Boccaccio
... fate. Fair—nay, as this Young slumberer, that dread witch; when, I arrayed In lovely shape, to meet my guileful kiss She yielded first her lip. And thou, sweet maid— What is't I see?—a recent tear has strayed And left its stain ...
— Zophiel - A Poem • Maria Gowen Brooks
... chucked right over him into the chest the sailor soon recovered from the shock, and rising erect, cried out in a half-confused manner,—"Overboard! Who? Where? Not you, Will'm! What is't, boy?" ...
— The Ocean Waifs - A Story of Adventure on Land and Sea • Mayne Reid
... Grandees and officers bound and brought them before King Shahyal, who said to the captive, "O Azrak,[FN2] where is the mortal Sayf al-Muluk who whilome was my guest?" Answered the Blue King, "O Shahyal, thou art a Jinni and I am a Jinni and is't on account of a mortal who slew my son that thou hast done this deed; yea, the murtherer of my son, the core of my liver and solace of my soul. How couldest thou work such work and spill the blood of so many thousand Jinn?" He replied, ...
— The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night, Volume 8 • Richard F. Burton
... did you say? Look, what a crop mown for our glory here!— That flag is of the Swedish Guards, is't not? ...
— The German Classics of The Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Vol. IV • Editor-in-Chief: Kuno Francke
... is't you read— Romance or fairy fable? Or is it some historic page, Of kings and crowns unstable?" The young boy gave an upward glance,— "It is The ...
— The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction, Vol. 12, - Issue 340, Supplementary Number (1828) • Various
... And is't that tiny flower that breathes it forth— The only one my eye did not observe? I'd love to give the flower a pretty name— But surely ...
— The German Classics of The Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Vol. IX - Friedrich Hebbel and Otto Ludwig • Various
... noble son is mad: Mad, call I it; for to define true madness, What is't but to be ...
— Outlines of English and American Literature • William J. Long
... wealthy I was born. Of Nature's gifts invidious I'd choose I know not which; One might as well be hideous As shunn'd because he's rich. O Love, if thou art bitter, Then death must pleasant be; I know not which is fitter, Not I—(or is't "not me"?) ...
— Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 104, March 4, 1893 • Various
... past yet Gentlemen, We have day enough: is't possible he comes not? You see I am ready here, and do but stay Till my Friend come, walk but a turn or two, 'Twill ...
— The Little French Lawyer - A Comedy • Francis Beaumont
... is't the paughty, feudal thane, Wi' ruffl'd sark an' glancing cane, Wha thinks himsel nae sheep-shank bane, But lordly stalks; While caps and bonnets aff are taen, ...
— Poems And Songs Of Robert Burns • Robert Burns
... said, my boys, I must have my lord's livery; what is't, a maypole? troth, 'twere a good body for a courtier's impreza, if it had but this life—Frustra ...
— The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction - Vol. 19, Issue 544, April 28, 1832 • Various
... "Is't you, Dan'el"—so was the miller named. "What in natur' has brought the old man on this tramp, with the valley filled with Injins?" whispered Joel, prolonging the speech in order to get a better view of a face and form that still baffled his conjectures. ...
— Wyandotte • James Fenimore Cooper
... thy wrist, JULIA, this my silken twist? For what other reason is't, But to show (in theorie) Thou sweet captive art to me; Which, of course, is fiddlededee! Runne and aske the nearest Judge, He will tell thee 'tis pure fudge; When thou willest, thou mayst trudge; ...
— Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol. 100, April 11, 1891 • Various
... me, And it shall strike good blows for thee.' His prayer in high Olympus heard, Swift Mercury started at the word. 'Your axe must not be lost,' said he: 'Now, will you know it when you see? An axe I found upon the road.' With that an axe of gold he show'd. 'Is't this?' The woodman answer'd, 'Nay.' An axe of silver, bright and gay, Refused the honest woodman too. At last the finder brought to view An axe of iron, steel, and wood. 'That's mine,' he said, in joyful mood; 'With that I'll quite contented be.' The god replied, 'I give the three, As due reward ...
— The Fables of La Fontaine - A New Edition, With Notes • Jean de La Fontaine
... thee, stand me now upon— He that hath kill'd my king and whored my mother, Popp'd in between the election and my hopes, Thrown out his angle for my proper life, And with such cozenage—is't not perfect conscience To quit him with this arm? and is't not to be damn'd To let this canker of our ...
— Shakespearean Tragedy - Lectures on Hamlet, Othello, King Lear, Macbeth • A. C. Bradley
... this my father Philip? Or is't my brother John? Or is't my true love Willie, From Scotland ...
— A Bundle of Ballads • Various
... ye leisure, comfort, calm, Shelter, food, love's gentle balm? Or what is't ye buy so dear With your ...
— Percy Bysshe Shelley as a Philosopher and Reformer • Charles Sotheran
... hair!" said auld Paul laughing, and taking the pipe out of his cheek, "whose butler is't that ye're after?" ...
— The Life of Mansie Wauch - Tailor in Dalkeith, written by himself • David Macbeth Moir
... to follow them! Go forth, And I'll go too: so on your wilfulness Shall fall whate'er of evil may ensue. Is't fit you waste your choler on a burr? The nothings of the town; whose sport it is To break their villain jests on worthy men, The graver still the fitter! Fie for shame! Regard what such would say? So would not I, No more than heed ...
— The Hunchback • James Sheridan Knowles
... on, ye black varmints," shouted Roy, as he sprang up and seized the axe which lay at his side. "Oh, it's only you, what a yell you do give, Nelly! why, one would think you were a born Injun; what is't all about, lass? Ye-a-ow! how sleepy I am—too late to have ...
— Silver Lake • R.M. Ballantyne
... "Lassie, is't you?" he ejaculated, lost in astonishment. Then, realizing the fact, he gave expression to his feeling by grinning in a convulsive kind of way and clapping her once or twice on the shoulder next him. "Od! I niver! Didna ...
— Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature and Science, Vol. XXVI., December, 1880. • Various
... joy,[26] Taken to wife: nor have we herein barr'd[27] Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone With this affair along:—For all, our thanks. And now, Laertes, what's the news with you? You told us of some suit; What is't, Laertes? ...
— Hamlet • William Shakespeare
... good Lady, you but iest, To try your Nurses now-decaying wit; So foule a fault is not within your breast, Then tell me true the occasion of this fit. The Lady frown'd, & stopt her speaking farther, And said get h[e]ce, is't ...
— Seven Minor Epics of the English Renaissance (1596-1624) • Dunstan Gale
... Speak, is't so? If it be so, you have wound a goodly clue; If it be not, foreswear't: howe'er, I charge thee, As heaven shall work in me for thine avail, To ...
— The Rivals of Acadia - An Old Story of the New World • Harriet Vaughan Cheney
... Syl. What is't! a noble Husband; in that word, a noble Husband, all content of Woman is wholly comprehended; He will rouse her, as you say, with the Sun; and so pipe to her, as she will dance, ne'er doubt it; and hunt with ...
— The Works of Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher - Vol. 2 of 10: Introduction to The Elder Brother • Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher
... but pity show, To quench these flames which in my breast do broil, Or dry these springs which from mine eyes do flow. Not only Hellespont but ocean seas, For her sweet sake to ford I would attempt, So that my travels would her ire appease, My soul from thrall and languish to exempt. O what is't not poor I would undertake, If labour could my peace ...
— Elizabethan Sonnet Cycles - Idea, by Michael Drayton; Fidessa, by Bartholomew Griffin; Chloris, by William Smith • Michael Drayton, Bartholomew Griffin, and William Smith
... should live; be not more fierce than he; Too long indulgent to so rude a time, When love was held so capital a crime, That a crown'd head could no compassion find, But died—because the killer had been kind! Nor is't less strange, such mighty wits as those Should use a style in tragedy like prose. Well-sounding verse, where princes tread the stage, Should speak their virtue, or describe their rage. 10 By the loud trumpet, which ...
— Poetical Works of Edmund Waller and Sir John Denham • Edmund Waller; John Denham
... o'erhead Things as divine and glorious as poesy Is wont to sing? Is't not some power in us, Some memory of a yet diviner world And things illumined by the light of God That dowers the stars with beauty, gives them strength And grandeur? 'Tis in us the stars have being, And poesy's self is but the memory Of things that have been or the seer's glance At things ...
— Welsh Lyrics of the Nineteenth Century • Edmund O. Jones
... thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks, And given my treasures and my rights of thee To thick-eyed musing and curst melancholy? Tell me, sweet lord, what is't that takes from thee Thy stomach, pleasure, and thy ...
— Shakespeare's Insomnia, And the Causes Thereof • Franklin H. Head
... he said, "you keep on steady and wait a bit. You'll be seeing her looking downhearted soon, you mark my word, and then you can step up and say, 'Is't me you want, my girl?' You're a right down good fellow, Tom, and she don't know yet what ...
— The Girls of St. Olave's • Mabel Mackintosh
... heart that makes my heart to groan For that deep wound it gives my friend and me! Is't not enough to torture me alone, But slave to slavery my sweet'st friend must be? Me from myself thy cruel eye hath taken, And my next self thou harder hast engross'd: Of him, myself, and thee, I am forsaken; A torment thrice threefold thus to be cross'd. Prison my heart ...
— The Man Shakespeare • Frank Harris
... the folks sayin' so; but I paid no heed, guessin' ye'd come an' tell us afore it took place. Is't ...
— Thankful Rest • Annie S. Swan
... ails thee, young one; what? Why pull so at thy cord? Is it not well with thee? Well both for bed and board? Thy plot of grass is soft, And green as grass can be; Rest, little young one, rest; What is't that aileth thee? ...
— Cole's Funny Picture Book No. 1 • Edward William Cole
... the side streets," said Guy. "Who knows what watch hath been set on Gracechurch Street. 'Tis for London Bridge we are bound, is't not?" ...
— The Panchronicon • Harold Steele Mackaye
... He feels it, introverts his learned eye To catch the unconscious heart in the very act. His mother died,—the only friend he had,— Some tears escaped, but his philosophy Couched like a cat, sat watching close behind And throttled all his passion. Is't not like That devil-spider that devours her mate ...
— Ralph Waldo Emerson • Oliver Wendell Holmes
... ye." The old man Kimball, his horses out of the shafts, and well taken care of, now drew near, and swept off with his ample hand the bunch of girls. "Which one is't? Oh, that ere one with the tag," answering his own question. "Well, now, I'll git that for you jest as easy as rolling off a ...
— Five Little Peppers at School • Margaret Sidney
... wandering WILLIE." O WILHELM, my lad, you might well sing that song. This stir's getting troublesome, not to say silly, Our "Travelling EMPEROR"'s coming it strong. This playing at Soldiers, is't never to cease? There's no rest but the grave ...
— Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol. 99, September 6, 1890 • Various
... made known his cherished project. Absalom and Uncle Cato listened with breathless suspense as the sage sayings fell from his lips. His brethren had all felt the sweet pleasures of justice, right, freedom, and kindness. "Well, den, broderin, is't 'um right in de sight ob de Lord, dat ye forgets dat broder what done so much fo'h ye body and ...
— Our World, or, The Slaveholders Daughter • F. Colburn Adams
... "Is't down in the gorge?" said the old woman, coming with her heavy, decided step to the parapet, and looking over, her keen black eyes gleaming like dagger-blades info the mist. "If there's anybody there," she said, "let them go away, and not be troubling honest women with any of their caterwauling. ...
— Atlantic Monthly, Vol. 7, No. 43, May, 1861 • Various
... thou put away this dotage from thy spright? Thy heart is dazed and rest to thee forbidden quite. Is't not enough for thee to have a weeping eye And vitals still on fire for memory and despite? For self-conceit, indeed, he laugheth, when he saith, "The day obliterates the promise ...
— The Book Of The Thousand Nights And One Night, Volume IV • Anonymous
... "Ye jist pit me 'at I dinna ken mysel'! Is't poassible ye hae forgotten what's sae weel kent to a' the cuintry roon'?—the auld captain,'at canna lie still in's grave, because o'—because o' whatever the rizzon may be? Onygait he's no laid yet; an' some thinks he's doomed to haunt the hoose ...
— Warlock o' Glenwarlock • George MacDonald
... COOMES. Is't you, mistress, that came over me? 'Sblood, 'twere a good deed to come over you for this night's work. I cannot afford all this pains for an angel: I tell ye true; a kiss were not cast away upon a good fellow, that hath deserved more that way than a kiss, if ...
— A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Vol. VII (4th edition) • Various
... this sort of thing and no longer put off by it). Nay, give me but one smile, sweet mistress. (She sighs heavily.) You sigh! Is't ...
— Happy Days • Alan Alexander Milne
... Said Joss, "Is't he?—Spectre with flashing eyes, And art thou Satan come to us surprise?" "Much less am I and yet much more. Oh, kings of crimes and plots! your day is o'er, But I your lives will only take to-day; Beneath the talons black your souls let stay To ...
— Poems • Victor Hugo
... royal mandate The lawyer did obey; The thought of six-and-eightpence Did make his heart full gay. "What is't," says he, "your Majesty Would wish of ...
— Ballads • William Makepeace Thackeray
... Mira. What is't a Spirit? Lord, how it lookes about: Beleeue me sir, It carries a braue forme. But 'tis ...
— The First Folio [35 Plays] • William Shakespeare
... 'And wha is't tou's gotten, Wullie, lad?' said half a score of voices, while all eyes were turned on your humble servant, who kept the best countenance he could, though not quite easy at becoming the centre to which all eyes ...
— Redgauntlet • Sir Walter Scott
... tell me!" said Mistress Winton, never lattin' wink she heard Ribekka. "That's the wey o't is't? Imphm! What d'ye think o' that, na? Weel dune, Ribekka. He's a fine coodie man, Jeems; an' he'll tak' care o' Ribekka, the young ...
— My Man Sandy • J. B. Salmond
... be more singular At noon of day was seen a silver star, Bright as the wise men's torch which guided them To God's sweet babe, when born at Bethlehem; While golden angels (some have told to me) Sung out his birth with heavenly minstrelsy. Amin. O rare! But is't a trespass if we three Should wend along his babyship to see? Mirt. Not so, not so. Chor. But if it chance to prove At most a fault, 'tis but a fault of love. Amar. But, dear Mirtillo, I have heard ...
— The Hesperides & Noble Numbers: Vol. 1 and 2 • Robert Herrick
... opes her eyes (for Marian agreed that I sate on the threshold), and says she, putting out her hand half-fearful-like, "Is't thou, brother?" ...
— A Brother To Dragons and Other Old-time Tales • Amelie Rives
... Ulcers are the Marks, Of many a wanton Beau and am'rous Sparks And many a lustful Lecher oft complains Of restless Days and damn'd nocturnal Pains, Nays go into a Flux o dozen Weeks, Is't not the Man himself these Sorrow seeks? Besides, how often see you go astride A Miss, as if she was with Packthread ty'd; Who's Poxt and Clapt as much as you can be, And undergoes a deal of Misery, To give your wanton Appetites content, [*?] feeding ...
— The Fifteen Comforts of Matrimony: Responses From Women • Various
... methinks, we might in war Rush on together; thou shouldst be my guard, And I be thine. What is't could hurt us then? Now half the youth of Europe are in arms, How fulsome must it be to stay behind, And die of rank ...
— The Orphan - or, The Unhappy Marriage • Thomas Otway
... Bene. Is't come to this, i' faith? Hath not the world one man but he will wear his cap with suspicion? Shall I never see a bachelor of three-score again? Go to, i' faith: an thou wilt needs thrust thy neck into a yoke, wear the print of it, and sigh away Sundays. Look, ...
— Much Ado About Nothing • William Shakespeare [Knight edition]
... care the cup to win; The mule, methinks, no Greek can bear away From me, who glory in the champion's name. Is't not enough, that in the battle-field I claim no special praise? 'tis not for man In all things to excel; but this I say, And will make good my words, who meets me here, I mean to pound his flesh, and smash his ...
— The Iliad • Homer
... Is't death to fall for Freedom's right? He's dead alone that lacks her light! And murder sullies, in Heaven's sight The sword he draws. What can alone ennoble fight? ...
— Standard Selections • Various
... Why should weake Nature tire her selfe in vaine In such a peice, to dash it straight againe? Why should she take such worke beyond her skill, Which when she cannot perfect, she must kill? Alas, what is't to temper slime or mire? But Nature's puzled when she workes in fire: Great Braines (like brightest glasse) crack straight, while those Of Stone or Wood hold out, and feare not blowes. And wee their Ancient hoary heads can see Whose Wit was never their mortality: Beaumont dies young, so Sidney ...
— The Works of Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher in Ten Volumes - Volume I. • Beaumont and Fletcher
... he looked at Spring, who had flung himself down to take advantage of the halt, hanging out his tongue, and panting spasmodically. "A noble beast," he said, "of the Windsor breed, is't not?" Then laying his hand on the graceful head, "Poor old hound, thou art o'er travelled. He is aged for such a Journey, if you came from the Forest since morn. Twelve years at the least, I should ...
— The Armourer's Prentices • Charlotte M. Yonge
... Pity! Is't pity to recall to feeling The wretch too happy to escape to Death By the compassionate trance, poor Nature's last Resource against ...
— The Works of Lord Byron - Poetry, Volume V. • Lord Byron
... castle, a trumpet's blast Rings so loud that the Palmer starts aghast; And, at Gertrude's side, he sinks dismayed,— Is't with dread of the living, or fear of ...
— The Baron's Yule Feast: A Christmas Rhyme • Thomas Cooper
... odorous of Song's traded East. Thou, for the life of all that live The victim daily born and sacrificed; To whom the pinion of this longing verse Beats but with fire which first thyself did give, To thee, O Sun—or is't ...
— New Poems • Francis Thompson
... present business is with the diggings and the diggers. We have often wished we could interrogate one of those unquiet spirits in the manner of Macbeth—'What is't ye do?' How do you manage? By what signs do you know a locality that is likely to repay your pains? What are your instruments, your machinery? What do you conceive to be the prospects of your singular trade? And, in fact, ...
— Chambers's Edinburgh Journal, No. 430 - Volume 17, New Series, March 27, 1852 • Various
... a proper man, and one that need not have been ashamed to show his countenance among his fellows," said he of the sash. "This cannot be the same, if indeed there be any on the coast.—Is't known, your Honor, that the man ...
— The Water-Witch or, The Skimmer of the Seas • James Fenimore Cooper
... while Mr. Thomasson opened the door and bowed her out; and this done and the door closed after her, 'Lord, what ceremony!' he said, with an ugly sneer. 'Is't real, man, or are you bubbling her? And what is this Cock-lane story of a chaise and the rest? Out with it, unless you want to ...
— The Castle Inn • Stanley John Weyman
... was his polite form of address. "Noo, Nestie, come awa' wi' yir evidence. What like is't to ...
— Young Barbarians • Ian Maclaren
... Stewart, you have a temerity that should save you from grey hairs! What is't to you what ditty my fancy seizes on? 'Swounds, man, for three weary months have I curbed my moods, and worn my throat dry in praising the Lord; for three months have I been a living monument of Covenanting zeal and godliness; and now that at last I have shaken the dust of your beggarly ...
— The Tavern Knight • Rafael Sabatini
... whether wilt thou flye, And leaue thy poore Cornelia thus forlorne, 370 Is't our bad fortune or thy cruell will That still it seuers in extremity. O let me go with thee, and die with thee, Nothing shall thy Cornelia grieuous thinke That shee endures for her sweete Pompeys sake. ...
— The Tragedy Of Caesar's Revenge • Anonymous
... "Is't true?" said she; "I wish ye luck. But bide a wee. Noo that the battle is owre an' done, What will ye dae wi' the ...
— Punch, Volume 156, 26 March 1919 • Various
... fair lady looks out from her lattice, but now Her eye is as bright as her fair shining brow: And is sorrow so fleeting?—Love's tears—dry they fast? The stronger is love, is't the less sure to last? Whose arm sees her knight round her waist?—'Tis his own; By the battle she wept for, her lover is won; "Ply the distaff, my maids, ply the distaff no more; Would you spin when already he ...
— The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction - Vol. XIX. No. 554, Saturday, June 30, 1832 • Various
... for in her The soul 'gainst the body protesting, was but more keenly astir: 'As saplings stunted by forest around o'ershading, we two: What work for our life, my mother,' she said, 'is left us to do? Or is't from the evil to come, the days without pleasure, that God In mercy would spare us, over our childhood outstretching the rod?' —So she, from her innocent heart; in all things seeing the best With the wholesome spirit of childhood; to God submitting the rest: Not seeing the desolate years, the ...
— The Visions of England - Lyrics on leading men and events in English History • Francis T. Palgrave
... "Ay, 'deed is't, Deacon," answered the landlady and yet I wonder our gentry leave their ain wark to the like o' him. —But as lang as silver's current, Deacon, folk maunna look ower nicely at what ...
— Guy Mannering • Sir Walter Scott
... warmly asleep some Hours, (more by Token I had read the ninety-first Psalm before getting into Bed), when Anne, clinging to me, woke me up with a shrill Cry. I whispered fearfullie, "What is't?—a Thief under ...
— Mary Powell & Deborah's Diary • Anne Manning
... two months, mysterious Business has been going on here. Pots of colours, painting brushes, Lime and mortar, masons' trowels And high scaffoldings are rising To the dome of the pavilion. Is't some evil spirit's workshop?— 'Tis no evil spirit's workshop. Frescoes here are being painted, And the legs which there are dangling From the lofty wooden scaffold, Are the legs of the illustrious Fresco-painter Fludribus, Who returning from Italia Had been living ...
— The Trumpeter of Saekkingen - A Song from the Upper Rhine. • Joseph Victor von Scheffel
... is a damn'd work to pursue those secrets 30 That would ope more sinne, and prove springs of slaughter; Nor is't a path for Christian feet to tread, But out of all way to the health of soules; A sinne impossible to be forgiven, Which ...
— Bussy D'Ambois and The Revenge of Bussy D'Ambois • George Chapman
... I admire or praise you too much, That fault you may forgive me, Or if my hands had strayed but a touch, Then justly might you leave me. I asked you leave, you bade me love; Is't now a time to chide me? No, no, no, I'll love you still, What ...
— Tudor and Stuart Love Songs • Various
... The dark night drew near, And the old lord grew sadder And paler with fear: 'Come listen, my daughter, Come nearer, oh, near! Is't the wind or the water That ...
— Charles O'Malley, The Irish Dragoon, Volume 2 (of 2) • Charles Lever
... my Babe? alas! Cold winds that pass Vex, or is't the little ass? Lullaby, O Paradise; Of my heart Thou Saviour art; On thy ...
— Christmas in Ritual and Tradition, Christian and Pagan • Clement A. Miles
... lords? My liege, Art thou so weak? Ye know not—will not know, Ye are the puppets of the wily Waywode Of Sendomir, who reared this spurious Czar, Whose measureless ambition, while we speak, Clutches in thought the spoils of Moscow's wealth. Is't left for me to tell you that even now The league is made and sworn betwixt the twain,— The pledge the Waywode's youngest daughter's hand? And shall our great republic blindly rush Into the perils of an unjust war, ...
— Demetrius - A Play • Frederich Schiller
... a number of fine speeches in this book: "Oh eyes, no eyes, but fountains fraught with tears;" there's a conceit: Fountains fraught with tears. "Oh life, no life, but lively form of death;" is't not excellent? "Oh world, no world, but mass of public wrongs;" O God's me: "confused and filled with murder and misdeeds." Is't not simply the best that ever you heard? Ha, ...
— Every Man In His Humour • Ben Jonson
... Is't in your ears or in your mind you're grieved? C. Why do you thus define the seat of grief? G. The doer pains your mind, but ...
— Plutarch's Morals • Plutarch
... is beauty if it be not seen, Or what is't to be seen if not admir'd, And though admir'd, unless in ...
— The Anatomy of Melancholy • Democritus Junior
... looking up and pausing from her grief, like a crying child who hears some promise of consolation. "Why, what place is't she's at, ...
— Adam Bede • George Eliot
... Why is't damnation to despair and die When life is my true happiness' disease? My soul! my soul! thy safety makes me fly The faulty means that might my pain appease; Divines and dying men may talk of hell; But in my ...
— Calamities and Quarrels of Authors • Isaac D'Israeli
... hark!" he exclaimed, in an alarmed tone. "What is't? Confusion in the great hallway below. We'll ...
— Mistress Nell - A Merry Tale of a Merry Time • George C. Hazelton, Jr.
... one, is't well you thus dare speak the name Of God, whom your own tongue bids men to curse! Could His veracity be vouched by you, You, wretched, sat upon the noxious bench Where poison's scattered, falsehood hath the sway; You, nurtured in ...
— Athaliah • J. Donkersley
... Youth is't none but thee? With Innocence I dare be free; By so much Trust and Modesty, No Nymph was e'er betray'd, Come lean thy Head upon my Lap, While thy soft Cheeks I stroak and clap; Thou may'st securely take a Nap, Which ...
— Wit and Mirth: or Pills to Purge Melancholy, Vol. 5 of 6 • Various
... cried, gulping down a sob, due to her own sad memories, and moving the cloak more tenderly than the woman in whose arms the child lay. "What a pair of dark eyes, then! Is't a boy ...
— Jan of the Windmill • Juliana Horatia Ewing
... sprinkle Ali therewith, when lo and behold! she heard a great cry and the cup fell from her hand. She turned and found that it was her father's handmaid, who had cried out; and she said to her, "O my mistress, is't thus thou keepest the covenant between me and thee? None taught thee this art save I, and thou didst agree with me that thou wouldst do naught without consulting me and that whoso married thee should marry me also, and that one night should be mine and one night thine." And the broker's daughter ...
— The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night, Volume 7 • Richard F. Burton
... that my father? Or is't my brother John? Or is it my true love Willy, From Scotland new ...
— The Haunted Hour - An Anthology • Various
... the right spirit in the objection—to begin with in a young lad. When I was your age I had the same good Highland notion that the hardest way to face the foe was the handsomest 'Pallas Armata'* (is't that you call the book of arms, Elrigmore?) tells different; but 'Pallas Armata' (or whatever it is) is for old men ...
— John Splendid - The Tale of a Poor Gentleman, and the Little Wars of Lorn • Neil Munro
... could he bring A better proof, than to anoint him king? 430 It surely show'd he loved the shepherd well, Who gave so fair a flock as Israel. Would David have you thought his darling son? What means he then to alienate the crown? The name of godly he may blush to bear: Is't after God's own heart to cheat his heir? He to his brother gives supreme command, To you a legacy of barren land; Perhaps the old harp, on which he thrums his lays, Or some dull Hebrew ballad in your praise. 440 Then the next heir, a prince severe ...
— The Poetical Works of John Dryden, Vol I - With Life, Critical Dissertation, and Explanatory Notes • John Dryden
... pittie, Gods, ah Gods of heau'n! To see from loue such hatefull frutes to spring? And is't not pittie that this firebrand so Laies waste the trophes of Philippi fieldes? Where are those swete allurements, those swete lookes, Which Gods themselues right hart-sicke would haue made? What doth that beautie, rarest guift of heau'n, ...
— A Discourse of Life and Death, by Mornay; and Antonius by Garnier • Philippe de Mornay
... life's the destined mark. The poison'd shaft has drank my spirits deep.— Is't come to this? Conspire with rebels! Ha! I've served you, madam, with the utmost peril, And ever gloried in th' illustrious danger, Where famine faced me with her meagre mien, And pestilence and death brought up her train. ...
— The Earl of Essex • Henry Jones
... wend, They saw a cart that loaded was with hay, The which a carter drove forth on his way. Deep was the mire, and sudden the cart stuck: The carter, like a madman, smote and struck, And cried, "Heit, Scot; heit, Brock! What! is't the stones? The devil clean fetch ye both, body and bones: Must I do nought but bawl and swinge all day? Devil take the whole—horse, harness, ...
— Playful Poems • Henry Morley |
