Jones's British Theatre, Volume 2

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Page 29 - Looking tranquillity! It strikes an awe And terror on my aching sight; the tombs And monumental caves of death look cold, And shoot a chilness to my trembling heart.
Page 17 - There's not a wretch that lives on common charity But's happier than me: for I have known The luscious sweets of plenty...
Page 26 - Ohy woman! lovely woman! nature made thee .To temper man : we had been brutes without you. Angels are painted fair, to look like you : There's in you all that we believe of Heaven, Amazing brightness, purity, and truth, Eternal joy, and everlasting love.
Page 75 - The stern, the rigid judge has been obey'd ; NOW nature, and the father, claim their turns. I've held the balance with an iron hand, And put off ev'ry tender human thought, To doom my child to death ; but spare my eyes The most unnatural sight, lest their strings crack, My old brain split, and I grow mad with horror.
Page 29 - That's my wish too: For then, my Pierre, I might have cause with pleasure To play the hypocrite. Oh! how I could weep Over the dying dotard, and kiss him too, In hopes to smother him quite; then, when the time Was come to pay my sorrows at his funeral, For he has already made me heir to treasures, Would make me out-act a real widow's whining...
Page 15 - A sterile fortune and a barren bed Attend you both : continual discord make Your days and nights bitter, and grievous still ! May the hard hand of a vexatious need Oppress and grind you ; till at last you find The curse of disobedience all your portion.
Page 86 - Burthensome to itself, a few years longer, To lose it, may be, at last in a lewd quarrel For some new friend, treacherous and false as thou art ! No, this vile world and I have long been jangling, And cannot part on better terms than now, When only men like thee are fit to live in't.
Page 53 - My life, my health, my liberty, my all! How shall I welcome thee to this sad place? How speak to thee the words of joy and transport? How run into thy arms •withheld by fetters ? Or take thee into mine, while I'm thus manacled And pinion'd like a thief or murderer...
Page 88 - No, I'll esteem it as a friend's last legacy ; Treasure it up within this wretched bosom, Where it may grow acquainted with my heart, That when they meet they start not from each other. So, now for thinking. A blow...
Page 25 - Lead me, lead me, my virgins! To that kind voice. My lord, my love, my refuge! Happy my eyes, when they behold thy face: My heavy heart will leave its doleful beating At sight of thee, and bound with sprightful joys.

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