The ambitious stepmother. Tamerlane. The fair penitent. UlyssesJ. and R. Tonson and S. Draper and H. Lintot, 1756 |
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ÆTHON Afide ALTAMONT AMESTRIS ANTINOUS Arms ARPASIA art thou ARTABAN ARTAXERXES AXALLA AXERXES BAJAZET Beauty behold blefs bleft Breaft CALISTA Caufe Cauſe CLEONE cou'd curfe Death doft thou Enter EPHIALTES ETHON EURYMACHUS ev'n ev'ry Exeunt Eyes facred fafe fair falfe Fame Fate Father fave Fears fhall fhould fierce fince firſt foft fome Friend Friendſhip ftand ftill fuch fure fwear giv'n Gods Greatneſs Grief Happineſs Heart Heav'n Honor HORATIO juft Juftice King laft LAVINIA loft Lord LOTHARIO Love MAGAS MEMNON MIRZA moft Monefes MONESES moſt muft muſt myſelf NICHOLAS ROWE Night o'er Paffion Peace Pity Pleaſure Pow'r Prieft Prince Purpoſe QUEEN Rage Reaſon reft Revenge Royal SCIOLTO SELIMA SEMANTHE ſhall ſhe Slave Sorrows Soul ſpeak STRATOCLES Sword TAMERLANE Tears TELEMACHUS thee thefe theſe thofe thoſe thou art Thought thouſand thro ULYSSES Vengeance Virtue whofe Wiſhes wou'd wretched Youth
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270. oldal - Like one who ventures through a burning pile ; To save his tender wife, with all her brood Of little fondlings, from the dreadful ruin.
xxiii. oldal - He *' kept up his good-humour to the laft ; and took "leave of his wife and friends, immediately before " his laft "agony, with the fame tranquillity of mind, " and the fame indifference for life, as though he " had been upon taking but a fhort journey.
308. oldal - tis too late ; And yet my eyes take pleasure to behold thee ; Thou art their last dear object Mercy, Heav'n ! [ Dies.
271. oldal - Henceforth, thou officious fool, Meddle no more, nor dare ev'n on thy life, To breathe an accent, that may touch my virtue. I am myself the guardian of my honour, And will not bear so insolent a monitor.
192. oldal - tis hard, 'Tis wondrous hard, when I remember thee, Dear native Greece ! and you, ye weeping maids, That were companions of" my virgin youth ! My noble parents ! Oh, the grief of heart, The pangs, that, for unhappy me, bring down Their reverend ages to the grave with sorrow. And yet there is a woe surpassing all : Ye saints and angels, give me of your constancy, If you expect I shall endure it long.
131. oldal - With nations numberless are cover'd o'er; Who, like a deluge, hide the face of earth, And leave no object in the vast horizon, But glitt'ring arms, and skies.
238. oldal - tis impossible, And Utterance all is vile ; since I can only Swear you reign here, but never tell how much.
249. oldal - Can there be such, and have they peace of mind? Have they, in all the series of their changing, One happy hour ? If women are such things, How was I...
133. oldal - Scap'd to our Camp: from him we learn'd, the Tyrant With Rage redoubled, for the Fight prepares; Some accidental Passion f1res his Breast, (Love, as 'tis thought, for a fair Grecian Captive) And adds new Horror to his native Fury: For five returning Suns...
299. oldal - To tell me something; — for instruction then — He teaches holy sorrow and contrition, And penitence. — Is it become "an art then? A trick that lazy, dull, luxurious gownmen Can teach us to do over? I'll no more on't: [Throwing away the Book.