Das Wortspiel bei ShakspereW. Braumüller, 1895 - 255 páginas |
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Términos y frases comunes
abab Abart Accent ähnlich All's Alliteration alliterierenden alliterierenden Langzeile anapästischen angelsächsischen anzutreffen Auftakt Bedeutung begegnen beiden Beispiele betont blank verse Böddeker Cäsur Chaucer citiert Clown Delius Dichter Dichtungen Doppelsinn dreitaktigen Endungen Engl englischen Enjambement entsprechend Euphues Euphuism Euphuismus Fällen Falstaff Figur folgenden Form Formel fünftaktigen gebaut gebraucht Gedicht Gent gewöhnlich Gleichklang gleichtaktigen Halbverse Hamlet häufig jambisch-anapästischen jambischen Jonson katalektische King Klangspiele klingenden kurze Langzeile Lautspiel Layamon letzten lich love Lylys meist Metrik metrischen Metrum mittelenglischen namentlich neuenglischen Note Personen Phrase Poesie Poets Prol Puttenham Reim reimenden Reimstellung respective rhythmischen Rhythmus Rushton Schweifreimstrophe selten Senkung Septenar Shakspere Shakspere'schen Silben Sonett Spiel Sprache Stabreim Strophen Strophen dieser Art Strophenform stumpf Surrey Takt taktigen Tetrameter thee Theil thou tieftonige trochäischen Typus ungleichmetrischen unserer Unterart Verbindung Vers Versarten Versausgang verschiedenen verwendet vierhebigen viertaktigen Vocal vorkommen wieder Witz Wort Wortspiel Wyatt zwei zweihebigen zweisilbigen zweitaktigen zweiten þat
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Página 347 - Ye Mariners of England That guard our native seas, Whose flag has braved a thousand years The battle and the breeze! Your glorious standard launch again To match another foe, And sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do' blow ; While the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
Página 106 - Infirm of purpose! Give me the daggers: the sleeping and the dead Are but as pictures: 'tis the eye of childhood That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed, I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal, For it must seem their guilt.
Página 365 - Shall I compare thee to a summer's day ? Thou art more lovely and more temperate : Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date : Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion...
Página 26 - What a piece of work is a man! How noble in reason! how infinite in faculties, in form and moving, how express and admirable in action, how like an angel in apprehension, how like a god ! the beauty of the world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? man delights not me; no, nor woman neither, though, by your smiling, you seem to say so.
Página 355 - That all the woods may answer, and your eccho ring. Bring with you all the Nymphes that you can heare Both of the rivers and the forrests greene, And of the sea that neighbours to her neare : Al with gay girlands goodly wel beseene.
Página 369 - With ships the sea was sprinkled far and nigh, Like stars in heaven, and joyously it showed ; Some lying fast at anchor in the road, Some veering up and down, one knew not why. A goodly vessel did I then espy Come like a giant from a haven broad ; And lustily along the bay she strode, Her tackling rich, and of apparel high.
Página 316 - She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies ; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes : Thus mellow'd to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
Página 158 - Harry, I do not only marvel where thou spendest thy time, but also how thou art accompanied : for though the camomile, the more it is trodden on the faster it grows, yet youth, the more it is wasted the sooner it wears.
Página 277 - O'er his work the boy's curls fell. But ever, at each period, He stopped and sang, "Praise God!" Then back again his curls he threw, And cheerful turned to work anew. . Said Blaise, the listening monk, "Well done; "I doubt not thou art heard, my son: "As well...
Página 304 - Away in Beauty's Bloom OH! snatch'd away in beauty's bloom, On thee shall press no ponderous tomb; But on thy turf shall roses rear Their leaves, the earliest of the year; And the wild cypress wave in tender gloom: And oft by yon blue gushing stream Shall Sorrow lean her drooping head, And feed deep thought with many a dream, And lingering pause and lightly tread: Fond wretch! as if her step disturb'd the dead!