Date: 1703

"A Flood of Tenderness comes o'er my Soul; / I cannot speak!--I love! forgive! and pity thee."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1703

"I thought that nothing cou'd have stay'd my Soul, / That long e'er this her Flight had reach'd the Stars; / But thy known Voice has lur'd her back again."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1703

"'Tis well! these Solemn Sounds, this Pomp of Horror, / Are fit to feed the Frenzy in my Soul, / Here's room for Meditation, ev'n to Madness, / 'Till the Mind burst with Thinking."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1703

"Because my Soul was rudely drawn from yours; / A poor imperfect Copy of my Father, / Where Goodness, and the strength of manly Virtue, / Was thinly planted, and the idle Void / Fill'd up with light Belief, and easie Fondness; / It was, because I lov'd, and was a Woman."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1703

"I have turn'd my Eyes inward upon my self, / Where foul Offence, and Shame have laid all waste; / Therefore my Soul abhors the wretched Dwelling, / And longs to find some better place of Rest."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1703

"By my strong Grief, my Heart ev'n melts within me."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1703

"If it be so, this is our last Farewel, / And these the parting Pangs which Nature feels, / When Anguish rends the Heart-strings--Oh! my Daughter."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1703

"Nothing but Blood can make the Expiation, / And cleanse the Soul from inbred, deep Pollution."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1706

"And therefore wert thou bred to virtuous Knowledge, / And Wisdom early planted in thy Soul; / That thou might'st know to rule thy fiery Passions, / To bind their Rage, and stay their headlong Course."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1706

"Our Souls are out of Tune, we languish all, / Nor does the sweet Returning of the Dawn / Chear with its usual Mirth our drowzy Spirits, / That droop'd beneath the lazy leaden Night."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)