 ... without a home ? Let her come to mine. Banks. The hand of misery hath struck us beneath your notice. Lady Am. Thou dost mistake — To need my assistance is the highest claim to my attention : let me see her. [Exit BANKS.] I could chide myself that...  The Dramatic Works of John O'Keeffe - Pàgina 78per John O'Keeffe - 1798Visualització completa - Sobre aquest llibre
 | John O'Keeffe - 1806 - 96 pàgines
...me sci her. [Exit BANKS.] I could chide myself that these pastimes have turned my eye from the house of woe. Ah ! think, ye proud and happy affluent, how...many, in your dancing moments, pine in want, drink the salt tear; their morsel, the bread of misery, and shrinking from the cold blast into their cheerless... | |
 | Mrs. Inchbald - 1808 - 416 pàgines
...me see her. [Exit BANKS.] I could chide myself that these pasiiims have turned my eye from the house of woe. Ah ! think, ye proud and happy affluent, how...many, in your dancing moments, pine in want, drink the salt tear; their morsel the bread of misery, and shrinking from the cold blast into their cheerless... | |
 | Mrs. Inchbald - 1808 - 422 pàgines
...me see her. [Exit BANKS.] I could chide myself that these pastimes have turned my eye from the house of •woe. Ah ! think, ye proud and happy affluent,...in your dancing moments, pine in want, drink* the salt tear; their morsel, the bread of misery, and shrinking from the cold blast into their cheerless... | |
 | 1811 - 450 pàgines
...me see her. [exit Banks] I could chide myself that these pastimes have turned my eye Irom the house of woe. Ah, think ye proud and happy affluent, how...many, in your dancing moments, pine in want, drink the salt tear ; their morsel, the bread of misery, and shrinking From the cold blast into their cheerless... | |
 | Mrs. Inchbald - 1824 - 432 pàgines
...me see her. [Exit BANKS.] I could chide myself that these pastimes have turned my eye from the house of woe. Ah ! think, ye proud and happy affluent, how...many, in your dancing moments, pine in want, drink the salt tear ; their morsel, the bread of misery, and shrinking from the cold blast into their cheerless... | |
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