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Antium arms base Behold beneath blood brave breast canst charms command Coriolanus cruel Daraxa daughter dear dearest death dost thou dreadsul duty e'er earl Osmond Edward Eleonora eyes faith fame fate father fave fortune foul friendship Galesus give glory Gloster gods hand happy hear heart heaven honour hope horror Jaffa JAMES THOMSON justice king Laura lise lord mankind Marcius mother ne'er never noble nought o'er once passions peace persidious poison'd pride prince princess rage Rodolpho Roman Roman senate Rome sasety SCENE SCENE scorn sear seel Selim selsish senate shew Sicily sierce Siffredi Sigismunda sirm sirst six'd soft soul sury sword Tancred tears tell thee tender Theald thine Thou art thou hast thought thro throne Titus toil traitor truth Tullus tyrant valour vengeance Veturia virtue Volsci Volscian Volumnia Volusius vows weakness whate'er woes wretched
Page 171 - That you had deign'd to tell me all you knew — And would you have me wait, with duteous...
Page 201 - O sympathizing love of others' bliss, Where will you find another breast like his ? Such was the man — the poet well you know: Oft has he touch'd your hearts with tender woe : Oft, in this crowded house, with just applause, You heard him teach fair Virtue's purest laws ; For his chaste Muse...
Page 145 - Exert thy utmost force, nor languish thus . Beneath the vain extravagance of love. Let not thy father blush to hear it said, His daughter was so weak, e'er to admit A thought so void of reason...
Page 251 - Philosophy consists not In airy schemes, or idle speculations: The rule and conduct of all social life Is her great province. Not in lonely cells Obscure she lurks, but holds her heavenly light To senates and to kings to guide their councils, And teach them to reform and bless mankind.
Page 104 - Pines in a corner, and laments his fortune ; That in the narrower bounds of private life He must confine his aims, those swelling virtues Which from his noble father he inherits.
Page 195 - My care would only more inflame his rage. Behold the fatal work of my dark hand, That by rude force the passions would command, That ruthless sought to root them from the breast ; They may be rul'd, but will not be opprest.
Page 188 - I am the wife of an illuftrious lord Of your own princely blood ; and what I am, I will with proper dignity remain. Retire, my royal lord— There is no means To cure the wounds this fatal day has given. We meet no more !
Page 97 - ... Tis true. But at his years Death gives, short notice — Drooping nature then, Without a gust of pain to shake it, falls. His death, my daughter, was that happy period Which few attain. The duties of his day Were all discharg'd, " and gratefully enjoy'd