The Royal convert - Jane Shore - Jane Gray - Poems on several occasions
J. and R. Tonson, T. Osborne, T. Waller, T. Longman, T. Caslon, C. Corbett, T. Lowndes, W. Nicoll, S. Bladon, and M. Richardson., 1766 - 373 oldal
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Altamont Arms ARTA XERXES Attendants bear Beauty behold Blood bring CALISTA Cauſe common cruel curſe Danger dare dear Death Earth Empire Enter ev'n Eyes fair Faith fall fatal Fate Father Fears firſt Foes forget Fortune Friend Friendſhip gentle give Gods Grief Guards Hand happy haſt Hate hear Heart Heav'n hold Honor Hopes HORATIO Hour juſt Juſtice kind King laſt leave Light live loft Look Lord LOTHARIO Love mean meet MEMNON Mind MIRZA moſt muſt Name Nature never Night noble once Pain Peace Pity Pleaſure Pow'r Power Prince Queen Rage Return Revenge Royal Ruin ſee ſhall ſhe ſhould Slave ſome Sorrows Soul ſpeak ſtill ſuch Sword Tamerlane Tears TELEMACHUS tell thee theſe Thing thoſe thou art Thought turn Vengeance Virtue wait whoſe Wiſhes World worth wretched Wrongs Youth
269. oldal - That I must die, it is my only comfort ; Death is the privilege of human nature, And life without it were not worth our taking: " Thither the poor, the pris'ner, and the mourner, \\* " Fly for relief, and lay their burthens down.
236. oldal - So many of your sex would not in vain Of broken vows, and faithless men, complain ; Of all the various wretches love has made, How few have been by men of sense betray 'd 7 Convinc'd by reason, they your power confess, Pleas'd to be happy, as you're pleas'd to bless, And, conscious of your worth, can never love you less.
225. oldal - I've gone around through all my thoughts, But all are indignation, love, or shame, And my dear peace of mind is lost for ever.
257. oldal - ... wretched as I seem, Still I have something of Sciolto's virtue. Yes, yes, my father, I applaud thy justice ; Strike home, and I will bless thee for the blow : Be merciful, and free me from my pain; 'Tis sharp, 'tis terrible, and I could curse The cheerful day, men, earth, and heav'n, and thee, Ev'n thee, thou venerable good old man, For being author of a wretch like me.
270. oldal - Whose beauty gilds the more than midnight darkness, And makes it grateful as the dawn of day. Oh, take me in, a fellow-mourner, with thee, I'll number groan for groan, and tear for tear; And when the fountain of thy eyes are dry, Mine shall supply the stream, and weep for both.
228. oldal - Some sullen influence, a foe to both, Has wrought this fatal marriage to undo us. Mark but the frame and temper of our minds, How very much we differ. Ev'n this day, That fills thee with such...
274. oldal - tis too late ; And yet my eyes take pleasure to behold thee; Thou art their last dear object Mercy, Heav'n ! [She dies.
226. oldal - On thy life I charge thee no : my genius drives me on; I must, I will behold him once again : Perhaps it is the crisis of my fate, And this one interview shall end my cares.
211. oldal - Before ungrateful Genoa had forgot The merit of thy godlike father's arms ; Before that country, which he long had...