The London Theatre: A Collection of the Most Celebrated Dramatic Pieces, Volume 3

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Whittingham and Arliss, 1815
 

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Pagina 45 - It must be so — Plato, thou reasonest well ; Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire, This longing after immortality ? Or whence this secret dread, and inward horror, Of falling into nought ? Why shrinks the soul Back on herself, and startles at destruction ? Tis the divinity that stirs within us ; 'Tis heaven itself, that points out an hereafter, And intimates eternity to man...
Pagina 14 - Tis not a set of features, or complexion, The tincture of a skin, that I admire. Beauty soon grows familiar to the lover, Fades in his eye, and palls upon the sense.
Pagina 46 - The wrecks of matter, and the crush of worlds What means this heaviness that hangs upon me ? This lethargy that creeps through all my senses ? Nature oppress'd, and harass'd out with care, Sinks down to rest.
Pagina 46 - The stars shall fade away, the sun himself Grow dim with age and nature sink in years : But thou shall flourish in immortal youth, Unhurt amidst the war of elements, The wreck of matter and the crush of worlds.
Pagina 17 - Are grown thus desp'rate: we have bulwarks round us; Within our walls are troops inur'd to toil In Afric's heat, and season'd to the sun; Numidia's spacious kingdom lies behind us, Ready to rise at its young prince's call. While there is hope, do not distrust the gods ; But wait, at least, till Caesar's near approach Force us to yield.
Pagina 46 - Here will I hold. If there's a power above us (And that there is, all Nature cries aloud Through all her works), he must delight in virtue ; And that which he delights in must be happy.
Pagina 17 - My voice is still for war. Gods! can a Roman senate long debate Which of the two to choose, slavery or death ? No ; let us rise at once, gird on our swords, And at the head of our remaining troops, Attack the foe, break through the thick array Of his throng'd legions, and charge home upon him.
Pagina 40 - He exercis'd his troops, the signal given, Flew off at once with his Numidian horse To the south gate, where Marcus holds the watch. I saw, and call'd to stop him, but in vain, He toss'd his arm aloft, and proudly told me He would not stay and perish like Sempronius.
Pagina 17 - Twill never be too late To sue for chains and own a conqueror. Why should Rome fall a moment ere her time? No, let us draw her term of freedom out In its full length, and spin it to the last, So shall we gain still one...
Pagina 6 - I feared at first, for starting from my bedside like a fury, she flew to my sword, and with much ado I prevented her doing me or herself a mischief. Having disarmed her, in a gust...

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