fain


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Related to fain: malefactions
See: willing
References in classic literature ?
We would fain take that walk, never yet taken by us through this actual world, which is perfectly symbolical of the path which we love to travel in the interior and ideal world; and sometimes, no doubt, we find it difficult to choose our direction, because it does not yet exist distinctly in our idea.
I would fain be assured that I am growing apace and rankly, though my very growth disturb this dull equanimity--though it be with struggle through long, dark, muggy nights or seasons of gloom.
Wherefore, I like you well, and would fain know your name.
Then Achilles, fain to kill him, hurled his spear at Asteropaeus, but failed to hit him and struck the steep bank of the river, driving the spear half its length into the earth.
Crook-foot," she cried, "my child, be up and doing, for I deem it is with you that Xanthus is fain to fight; help us at once, kindle a fierce fire; I will then bring up the west and the white south wind in a mighty hurricane from the sea, that shall bear the flames against the heads and armour of the Trojans and consume them, while you go along the banks of Xanthus burning his trees and wrapping him round with fire.
The northeast wind blew keenly across the naked waste, and they were fain to decamp from their inhospitable bivouac before the dawn.
Ay," quoth the Tinker, "blow thou mayest, but go thou must with me to Nottingham Town, for the Sheriff would fain see thee there.
There stands a tinker," quoth Robin, "that would fain take me to Nottingham, there to hang upon the gallows tree.
I would fain know, father," asked the young man, "what there may be at the end of the world?
Yet I love to hear their wailing, their doleful responses, trilled along the woodside; reminding me sometimes of music and singing birds; as if it were the dark and tearful side of music, the regrets and sighs that would fain be sung.
In the mean-while all the shore rang with the trump of bullfrogs, the sturdy spirits of ancient wine-bibbers and wassailers, still unrepentant, trying to sing a catch in their Stygian lake -- if the Walden nymphs will pardon the comparison, for though there are almost no weeds, there are frogs there -- who would fain keep up the hilarious rules of their old festal tables, though their voices have waxed hoarse and solemnly grave, mocking at mirth, and the wine has lost its flavor, and become only liquor to distend their paunches, and sweet intoxication never comes to drown the memory of the past, but mere saturation and waterloggedness and distention.
I would fain linger yet with a few of those among whom I have so long moved, and share their happiness by endeavouring to depict it.