Japanese Plays and Playfellows

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W. Heinemann, 1901 - 306 pages

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Page 247 - Ship me somewheres east of Suez, where the best is like the worst, Where there aren't no Ten Commandments an...
Page 275 - Je suis belle comme la mort Et suis publique aussi comme elle. Aux douloureux traceurs d'éclairs Et de désirs sur mes murailles, J'offre le catafalque de mes chairs Et les cierges des funérailles. Je leur donne tout mon remords Pour les fouler au seuil du porche Et le blasphème de mon corps Brandi vers Dieu comme une torche.
Page 252 - A woman should look on her husband as if he were Heaven itself, and never weary of thinking how she may yield to her husband, and thus escape celestial castigation.
Page 139 - There has fallen a splendid tear From the passion-flower at the gate. She is coming, my dove, my dear; She is coming, my life, my fate; The red rose cries, " She is near, she is near;" And the white rose weeps, " She is late;" The larkspur listens, " I hear, I hear;" And the lily whispers,
Page 124 - Oh, Flo, what a change you know, When she left the village she was shy. But, alas and alack, She came back With a naughty little twinkle in her eye.
Page 288 - Titian's colouring 1 (v. 737) : — it ver et Venus, et veris praenuntius ante pennatus graditur zephyrus, vestigia propter Flora quibus mater praespargens ante viai cuncta coloribus egregiis et odoribus opplet.
Page 128 - SUCH a starved bank of moss Till, that May-morn, Blue ran the flash across : Violets were born! Sky — what a scowl of cloud Till, near and far, Ray on ray split the shroud : Splendid, a star! World — how it walled about Life with disgrace Till God's own smile came out: That was thy face!
Page 89 - Lovers of prurience and dabblers in impropriety who are eager to gratify their illicit tastes under the pretence of art." Evening Standard. "Ninety-seven per cent, of the people who go to see Ghosts are nasty-minded people who find the discussion of nasty subjects to their taste in exact proportion to their nastiness.
Page 275 - Ou dévorante — ou dévorée. Mes dents, comme des pierres d'or, Mettent en moi leurs étincelles : Je suis belle comme la mort Et suis publique aussi comme elle. Aux douloureux traceurs d'éclairs Et de désirs sur mes murailles, J'offre le catafalque de mes chairs Et les cierges des funérailles.
Page 72 - ... effort at sublimity of diction, and introduced the use of blank verse as the vehicle of dramatic dialogue. But it was not to these tentative efforts of scholars and nobles that the English stage was really indebted for the amazing outburst of genius, which dates from the moment when " the Earl of Leicester's servants " erected the first public theatre in Blackfriars.

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