Date: Performed Dec 1756, published 1757

"Would thou wert not / Compos'd of grief and tenderness alone, / But had'st a spark of other passions in thee, / Pride, anger, vanity, the strong desire / Of admiration, dear to woman kind;/ These might contend with, and allay thy grief, / As meeting tides and currents smooth our firth."

— Home, John (1722-1808)

Date: Performed Dec 1756, published 1757

"Then my bosom's flame / Oft, as blown back by the rude breath of fear, / Return'd, and with redoubled ardour blaz'd."

— Home, John (1722-1808)

Date: Performed Dec 1756, published 1757

"Whilst thus I mus'd, a spark from fancy fell / On my sad heart, and kindled up a fondness / For this young stranger, wand'ring from his home, / And like an orphan cast upon my care."

— Home, John (1722-1808)

Date: Performed Dec 1756, published 1757

"Have you not sometimes seen an early flower / Open its bud, and spread its silken leaves, / To catch sweet airs, and odours to bestow; / Then, by the keen blast nipt, pull in its leaves, / And, tho' still living, die to scent and beauty! / Emblem of me: affliction, like a storm, / Hath kill'd th...

— Home, John (1722-1808)

Date: Performed Dec 1756, published 1757

"Thou look'st at me, as if thou fain would'st pry / Into my heart. 'Tis open as my speech."

— Home, John (1722-1808)

Date: Performed Dec 1756, published 1757

"The darts of destiny have almost pierc'd / My marble heart."

— Home, John (1722-1808)

Date: Performed Dec 1756, published 1757

"Infernal fiends, if any fiends there are / More fierce than hate, ambition, and revenge, / Rise up and fill my bosom with your fires, / And policy remorseless!"

— Home, John (1722-1808)

Date: Performed Dec 1756, published 1757

"I've known a follower's rankled bosom breed / Venom most fatal to his heedless Lord."

— Home, John (1722-1808)

Date: Performed Dec 1756, published 1757

"Darkly a project peers upon my mind, / Like the red moon when rising in the east, / Cross'd and divided by strange-colour'd clouds."

— Home, John (1722-1808)

Date: Performed Dec 1756, published 1757

"Angels and seraphs who delight in goodness! / Forsake your skies, and to her couch descend! / There from her fancy chace those dismal forms / That haunt her waking."

— Home, John (1722-1808)