A Select Collection of Old Plays: The antiquary; The goblins; The ordinary; The jovial crew or, the Merry beggars; The old couple

Septimus Prowett, 23, Old Bond Street., 1826

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Seite 400 - I have almost forgot the taste of fears : The time has been, my senses would have cool'd To hear a night-shriek ; and my fell of hair Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir As life were in't : I have supp'd full with horrors ; Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, Cannot once start me.
Seite 24 - See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek ! Jul.
Seite 23 - In this was every art, and every charm, To win the wisest, and the coldest warm: Fond love, the gentle vow, the gay desire, The kind deceit, the still-reviving fire, Persuasive speech, and more persuasive sighs, Silence that spoke, and eloquence of eyes.
Seite 209 - RIP VAN WINKLE. A POSTHUMOUS WRITING OF DIEDRICH KNICKERBOCKER. By Woden, God of Saxons, From whence comes Wensday, that is Wodensday, Truth is a thing that ever I will keep Unto thylke day in which I creep into My sepulchre.
Seite 408 - Who sees pale Mammon pine amidst his store, Sees but a backward steward for the poor ; This year, a reservoir, to keep and spare ; The next, a fountain, spouting through his heir, In lavish streams to quench a country's thirst, And men and dogs shall drink him till they burst.
Seite 210 - In Laneham's Account of the Entertainment at Kcnchvorth Castle, it is said, ' and also by her highness [Q. Elizabeth] accustomed mercy and charitee, nyne cured of the peynful and dangerous diseaz called the King's Evil, for that kings and queens of this realm without oother medsin, (save only by handling and prayer) only doo it.
Seite 40 - Well, go thy ways, old Nick Machiavel, there will never be the peer of thee for wholesome policy and good counsel. Thou took'st pains to chalk men out the dark paths and hidden plots of murther and deceit, and no man has the grace to follow thee ; the age is unthankful, thy principles are quite forsaken and worn out of memory.
Seite 89 - The youth all pale, with shiv'ring fear was stung, And vain excuses falter'd on his tongue. Alcides snatch'd him, as with suppliant face He strove to clasp his knees, and beg for grace: He toss'd him o'er his head with airy course, And hurl'd with more than with an engine's force; Far o'er th' Eubaean main aloof he flies, And hardens by degrees amid the skies.

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