The orphan. The history and fall of Caius Marius. Venice preserv'd. Poems and letters

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C. Hitch and L. Hawes, 1757
 

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Page 239 - 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 173 - It was the lark, the herald of the morn, No nightingale : look, love, what envious streaks Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east: Night's candles are burnt out...
Page 164 - Give me my Romeo: and when he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun.
Page 240 - God, and watch thee till the morning. Jaff. Hear this, you Heavens, and wonder how you made her! Reign, reign, ye monarchs that divide the world, Busy rebellion ne'er will let you know Tranquillity and happiness like mine; Like gaudy ships, the obsequious billows fall And rise again, to lift you in your pride; They wait but for a storm and then devour you...
Page 146 - My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite.
Page 230 - I that thief, the doer of such wrongs As you upbraid me with, what hinders me But I might send her back to you with contumely, And court my fortune where she would be kinder ? Pri.
Page 238 - 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.
Page 69 - tis in my head ; 'tis in my heart, Tis every where ; it rages like a madness ; And I most wonder how my reason holds ; Nay, wonder not, Monimia : the slave You thought you had secur'd within my breast, Is grown a rebel, and has broke his chain, And now he walks there like a lord at large.
Page 238 - Does this appear like change, or love decaying, When thus I throw myself into thy bosom With all the resolution of a strong truth?
Page 132 - Of healths five fathom deep; and then anon Drums in his ear; at which he starts, and wakes; And, being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two, And sleeps again.

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