He above the rest In shape and gesture proudly eminent Less than arch-angel ruin'd. Milton's Paradise Lost, b. 1. Forth In order came the grand infernal peers: Than Hell's dread emperor with pomp supreme, Ay me, they little know How dearly I abide that boast so vain, While they adore me on the throne of Hell. In himself was all his state, Ibid. b. 2. Ibid. b. 4. More solemn than the tedious pomp that waits What is station high? Young's Night Thoughts, n. 6. Mark how the palace lifts a lying front, Thomson's Liberty. GRIEF. He that Foretels his own calamity, and makes Davenant's Distresses. Retiring from the popular noise, I seek Milton's Samson Agonistes. Be not over exquisite To cast the fashion of uncertain evils: For grant they be so, while they rest unknown, Milton's Comus. There is a kind of mournful eloquence In thy dumb grief, which shames all clam'rous sorrow. Lee's Theodosius. My soul lies hid in shades of grief, Whence, like the bird of night, with half-shut eyes She peeps, and sickens at the sight of day. Dryden's Rival Ladies. My heart is wither'd at that piteous sight, Dryden's Spanish Friar. My heart sinks in me, And every slacken'd fibre drops its hold, Ibid. Oh! nothing now can please me: Darkness and solitude, and sighs, and tears, And all the inseparable train of grief, Attend my steps for ever. Dryden's Amphitryon. Take me as you have made me, miserable: And you made that, not I. Dryden's Don Sebastian. Mine is a grief of fury, not despair! And if a manly drop or two fall down, It scalds along my cheeks, like the green wood, tears. Dryden's Cleomenes. I am dumb, as solemn sorrow ought to be; Otway's Caius Marius. O peaceful solitude ! Here all things smile, and in sweet concert join: Tate's Loyal General. I am the centre of all miseries : By day she seeks some melancholy shade, Rowe's Fair Penitent, a. 1, s. 1. O, take me in a fellow-mourner with thee; And when the fountains of thy eyes are dry, The storm of grief bears hard upon his youth, Ibid. a. 5, s. 1. Her streaming eyes bent ever on the earth, Rowe's Jane Shore, a. 5, s. 1. Give me your drops, ye soft descending rains, She never sees the sun, but thro' her tears; Some secret venom preys upon his heart; Ibid. Ibid. Creeps in his veins, and drinks the streams of life. Rowe's Lady Jane Grey, a. 1, s. 1. The time for tender thoughts and soft endearments Ibid. a. 4, s. 1. That eating canker, grief, with wasteful spite, Rowe's Ambitious Stepmother. Words will have way or grief, suppress'd in vain, Would burst its passage with th' outrushing soul. Hill's Alzira. Why dost thou frown upon me? My blood runs cold, my heart forgets to heave, A soul exasperated in ills, falls out Addison's Cato. What a damp hangs on me! Ibid. Young's Brothers, a. 2. How vain all outward effort to supply We'll fly to some far distant lonely village, Ibid. Sewell's Sir Walter Raleigh. Awhile she stood Transform'd by grief to marble, and appear'd Her own pale monument; but when she breath'd So moving were the plaints, they would have sooth'd And spare his morning prey. Fenton's Mariamne. Sweet source of every virtue, O sacred sorrow! he who knows not thee, Knows not the best emotions of the heart, |