Imatges de pÓgina



'Tis a history

Handed from ages down; a nurse's tale

Which children, open-ey'd and mouth'd, devour;
And thus as garrulous ignorance relates,

We learn it and believe.

Southey's Thalaba, b. 4.


But be not long, for in the tedious minutes,
Exquisite interval, I'm on the rack;
For sure the greatest evil man can know,
Bears no proportion to the dread suspense.

Frowde's Fall of Saguntur.


Fell dæmon of our fears! The human soul,
That can support despair, supports not thee.


Mallet's Mustapha.

Suspicion is a heavy armour, and

With its own weight impedes more than it protects.

Byron's Werner.

Suspect !-that's a spy's office. Oh! we lose
Ten thousand precious moments in vain words,
And vainer fears.

Byron's Sardanapalus, a. 1, s. 2.


The swan with arched neck

Between her white wings mantling proudly, rows

Her state with oary feet.

Milton's Paradise Lost, b. 7.

The stately-sailing swan

Gives out his snowy plumage to the gale;

And, arching proud his neck, with oary feet
Bears forward fierce, and guards his osier isle,
Protective of his young.

Thomson's Seasons.-Spring.


There was one did battle with the storm With careless, desperate force; full many times His life was won and lost, as though he recked notNo hand did aid him, and he aided noneAlone he breasted the broad wave, alone

That man was saved. Maturin's Bertram, a. 1, s. 3.

How many a time have I

Cloven with arm still lustier, breast more daring,
The wave all roughen'd; with a swimmer's stroke
Fling the billows back from my drench'd hair,
And laughing from my lip the audacious brine,
Which kiss'd it like a wine-cup, rising o'er
The waves as they rose, and prouder still
The loftier they uplifted me.

Byron's Two Foscari, a. 1, s. 1.



thee fix'd,

Yet on she moves, now stands and eyes
About t'have spoke, but now, with head declin'd
Like a fair flow'r surcharg'd with dew, she weeps,
And words address'd seem into tears dissolv'd,
Wetting the borders of her silk'n veil.

Milton's Samson Agonistes.

But these are tears of joy! To see you thus, has fill'd
My eyes with more delight than they can hold!
Congreve's Mourning Bride.

By Heav'ns, my love, thou dost distract my soul!
There's not a tear that falls from those dear eyes,
But makes my heart weep blood. Lee's Mithridates.

I found her on the floor

In all the storm of grief; yet beautiful!

Sighing such a breath of sorrow, that her lips, Which late appear'd like buds, were now o'erblown! Pouring forth tears, at such a lavish rate,

That were the world on fire, they might have drown'd The wrath of Heav'n, and quench'd the mighty ruin.

I could perceive with joy, a silent show'r
Run down his silver beard.



Lee's Junius Brutus.

weep, 'tis true but Machiavel, I swear They're tears of vengeance; drops of liquid fire! So marble weeps, when flames surround the quarry, And the pil'd oaks spout forth such scalding bubbles, Before the general blaze. Lee's Casar Borgia.

And know that when Sebastian weeps, his tears

These thanks I pray you :

Come harder than his blood.

Dryden's Don Sebastian.

Believe these tears, which from my wounded heart,

Bleed at my eyes.

Dryden's Spanish Friar.

Stop, stop those tears, Monima! for they fall
Like baneful dew from a distemper'd sky!

I feel them chill me to the very heart.

Otway's Orphan.

Down her cheeks flow'd the round drops :
And as we see the sun shine thro' a show'r,
So look'd her beauteous eyes,

Casting forth light and tears together.

Lansdown's Heroic Love.

Thou weep'st, O stop that shower of falling sorrows,
Which melts me to the softness of a woman,
And shakes my best resolves.

Trap's Abramule.

Hide not thy tears; weep boldly-and be proud
To give the flowing virtue manly way :
'Tis nature's mark, to know an honest heart by.
Shame on those breasts of stone, that cannot melt,
In soft adoption of another's sorrow.

Hill's Alzira.

From his big heart, o'ercharg'd with generous sorrow; See the tide working upward to his eye,

And stealing from him in large silent drops,

Without his leave.

Young's Busiris.

Her tears, like drops of molten lead,

With torment burn the

passage to my heart.


The eye, that will not

weep another's sorrow,

Should boast no gentler brightness than the glare,
That reddens in the eye-ball of the wolf.

Mason's Elfrida.

Heav'n, that knows

The weakness of our natures, will forgive,

Nay, must applaud Love's debt, when decent paid:
Nor can the bravest mortal blame the tear

Which glitters on the bier of fallen worth.

Shirley's Parricide.

Her eye did seem to labour with a tear,
Which suddenly took birth, but over-weigh'd

With its own weight, swelling, dropp'd upon her


Which, by reflection of her light, appear'd

As nature meant her sorrow for an ornament.

Shirley's Brothers.

How, thro' her tears, with pale and trembling radiance,
The eye of beauty shines, and lights her sorrows!
As rises o'er the storm some silver star,
The seaman's hope, and promise of his safety.

Francis's Eugenia.

Like a pent-up flood, swoln to the height, He pour'd his griefs into my breast with tears, Such as the manliest men in their cross'd lives Are sometimes forced to shed.

Joanna Baillie's Rayner, a. 1, s. 1.

Hide thy tears

I do not bid thee not to shed them-'twere

Easier to stop Euphrates at its source
Than one tear of a true and tender heart-
But let me not behold them; they unman me.

His best of man, and

Byron's Sardanapalus, a. 4, s. 1.

[blocks in formation]

A space, till firmer thoughts restrained excess.


Milton's Paradise Lost, b. 11.


you these peals of thunder but the yawn

Of bellowing clouds? By Jove, they seem to me

The world's last groans! And these vast sheets of flame

Are its last blaze! The tapers of the gods,

The sun and moon, run down like waxen globes,
And chaos is at hand!

Lee's Edipus.

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