Gaisford prize: Greek Theocritean verse [Cymbeline, act 4, scene 2, tr.] by J.A. Godley
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Page 10 - Fear no more the heat o' the sun, Nor the furious winter's rages; Thou thy worldly task hast done, home art gone , and ta'en thy wages : Golden lads aIid girls all must , As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Arv. Fear no more the frown o...
Page 6 - Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele, I'll sweeten thy sad grave: Thou shalt not lack The flower, that's like thy face, pale primrose; nor The azur'd hare-bell, like thy veins; no, nor The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander, Out-sweeten'd not thy breath...
Page 10 - Fear no more the heat o' the sun Nor the furious winter's rages; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages; Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Fear no more the frown o...
Page 6 - Those rich-left heirs that let their fathers lie Without a monument !) bring thee all this ; Yea, and furr'd moss besides, when flowers are none, To winter-ground thy corse.
Page 8 - Great griefs, I see, medicine the less; for Cloten Is quite forgot. He was a queen's son, boys: And though he came our enemy, remember He was paid for that: though mean and mighty, rotting Together, have one dust, yet reverence, That angel of the world, doth make distinction Of place 'tween high and low. Our foe was princely; 25 ° And though you took his life as being our foe, Yet bury him as a prince. GUI. Pray you, fetch him hither. Thersites' body is as good as Ajax', When neither are alive.