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71 строка
2.5 KiB
XML
71 строка
2.5 KiB
XML
<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
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<array>
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<dict>
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<key>text</key>
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<string>Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back,
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Wherein he puts alms for oblivion,
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A great-siz'd monster of ingratitudes.
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Those scraps are good deeds past, which are devour'd
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As fast as they are made, forgot as soon
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As done. Perseverance, dear my lord,
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Keeps honour bright. To have done is to hang
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Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail
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In monumental mock'ry. Take the instant way;
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For honour travels in a strait so narrow -
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Where one but goes abreast. Keep then the path,
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For emulation hath a thousand sons
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That one by one pursue; if you give way,
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Or hedge aside from the direct forthright,
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Like to an ent'red tide they all rush by
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And leave you hindmost;
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Or, like a gallant horse fall'n in first rank,
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Lie there for pavement to the abject rear,
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O'er-run and trampled on. Then what they do in present,
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Though less than yours in past, must o'ertop yours;
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For Time is like a fashionable host,
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That slightly shakes his parting guest by th' hand;
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And with his arms out-stretch'd, as he would fly,
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Grasps in the corner. The welcome ever smiles,
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And farewell goes out sighing. O, let not virtue seek
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Remuneration for the thing it was;
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For beauty, wit,
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High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service,
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Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all
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To envious and calumniating Time.
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One touch of nature makes the whole world kin-
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That all with one consent praise new-born gawds,
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Though they are made and moulded of things past,
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And give to dust that is a little gilt
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More laud than gilt o'er-dusted.
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The present eye praises the present object.
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Then marvel not, thou great and complete man,
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That all the Greeks begin to worship Ajax,
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Since things in motion sooner catch the eye
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Than what stirs not. The cry went once on thee,
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And still it might, and yet it may again,
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If thou wouldst not entomb thyself alive
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And case thy reputation in thy tent,
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Whose glorious deeds but in these fields of late
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Made emulous missions 'mongst the gods themselves,
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And drave great Mars to faction.</string>
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<key>speaker</key>
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<string>ULYSSES</string>
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</dict>
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<dict>
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<key>text</key>
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<string>Of this my privacy
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I have strong reasons.</string>
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<key>speaker</key>
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<string>ACHILLES</string>
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</dict>
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<dict>
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<key>speaker</key>
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<string>ULYSSES</string>
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<key>text</key>
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<string>But 'gainst your privacy
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The reasons are more potent and heroical.
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'Tis known, Achilles, that you are in love
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With one of Priam's daughters.</string>
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</dict>
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</array>
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