When eagles are in view, the screaming doves Fear on guilt attends, and deeds of darkness; Havard's Scanderbeg. The weakness we lament, ourselves create. And folly, frighted at our own chimeras, 'Tis well-my soul shakes off its load of care; Imagination frames events unknown, In wild fantastic shapes of hideous ruin; Hannah More's Belshazzar, p. 2. The dread of evil is the worst of ill; A tyrant, yet a rebel, dragging down The clear-ey'd judgment from its spiritual throne, Proctor's Mirandola, a. 1, s. 1. Must I consume my life-this little life- Byron's Sardanapalus, a. 1, s. 2. Desponding fear, of feeble fancies full, Thomson's Seasons-Spring. FEASTING. Then all was jollity, Feasting, and mirth, light wantonness and laughter, Rowe's Jane Shore. The banquet waits our presence, festal joy Browne's Barbarossa. Fill full! Why this is as it should be here Byron's Sardanapalus, a. 3, s. 1. FIDELITY. Trust repos'd in noble natures, Obliges them the more. Dryden's Assignation. Is there, kind heaven! no constancy in man? Thomson's Tancred and Sigismunda, a. 3, s. 1. In the day of woe, she ever rose Upon the mind with added majesty, As the dark mountain more sublimely tow'rs Joanna Baillie's De Montford, a. 5, s. 4. Clotilda. Hath time no power upon thy hopeless love? Imogine. Yea, time hath power, and what a power I'll tell thee, A power to change the pulses of the heart To one dull throb of ceaseless agony, And lock it in the heart,-freeze the hot tear Such power hath time o'er me. Maturin's Bertram, a. 1, s. 1. They said her cheek of youth was beautiful Till withering sorrow blanched the bright rose there; And chilled it to a cold and joyless statue. His sovereign's frown came next Ibid. a. 1, s. 5. Then bowed the banners on his crested walls Torn by the enemies' hand from their proud height; Where twice two hundred years they mocked the storm. The stranger's step profaned his desolate halls, Mark me, Clotilda, And mark me well, I am no desperate wretch, Who borrows an excuse from shameful passion Ibid. I am a wretched, but a spotless wife, Ibid. Full many a miserable year hath past- If thou could'st speak, Dumb witness of the secret soul of Imogine, She is as constant as the stars Ibid. Proctor's Mirandola, a. 2, s. 1. That's false! a truer, nobler, trustier heart, In story or in fable, with a world To back his suit. Dishonour'd!-he dishonour'd! I tell thee, Doge, 'tis Venice is dishonour'd. Byron's Two Foscari, a. 2, s. 1: Where is honour, Innate and precept-strengthen'd, 'tis the rock Of honesty in such infected blood, Byron's Doge of Venice, a. 2, s. 1. Vice cannot fix, and virtue cannot change. lbid. Adah. Alas! thou sinnest now my Cain; thy words Sound impious in mine ears. Cain. Then leave me ! Adah. Never, Though thy God left thee. Byron's Cain. Faithful found Among the faithless, faithful only he; His loyalty he kept, his love, his zeal; Nor number, nor example with him wrought To swerve from truth, or change his constant mind Though single. Milton's Paradise Lost, b. 5. Well hast thou fought The better fight, who single hast maintain'd Of truth, in word mightier than they in arms Ibid. b. 6. Confirm'd then I resolve, Adam shall share with me in bliss or woe : Ibid. b. 9. |