Date: 1714

"'Tis all in vain, this Rage that tears thy Bosom, / Like a poor Bird that flutters in its Cage, / Thou beat'st thy self to Death."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1714

"The most, such Iron Hearts we are, and such / The base Barbarity of Human Kind, / With Insolence and lewd Reproach pursu'd her, / Hooting and Railing, and with Villainous Hands / Gathering the Filth from out the common Ways, / To hurl upon her Head."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1714

"Have you examin'd / Into your inmost Heart, and try'd at leisure / The several secret Springs that move the Passions? / Has Mercy fix'd her Empire there so sure, / That Wrath and Vengeance never may return?"

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1714

"Oh! thou hast set my busy Brain at work, / And now she musters up a Train of Images, / Which to preserve my Peace I had cast aside, / And sunk in deep Oblivion."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1715

"Close, like a Dragon folded in his Den, / Some secret Venom preys upon his Heart."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1715

"Tho' sure the Loss / Wou'd wound me to the Heart."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1715

"Thy gentle Temper, / Is form'd with Passions mixt in due Proportion, / Where no one overbears nor plays the Tyrant, / But join in Nature's Business, and thy Happiness: / While mine disdaining Reason and her Laws, / Like all thou can'st imagine wild and furious, / Now drive me head-long on, now w...

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1715

"I'll summon all my Reason and my Duty, / To sooth this Storm within, and frame my Heart, / To yield Obedience to my noble Parents."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1715

"My Fancy palls, and takes Distast at Pleasure; / My Soul grows out of Tune, it loaths the World, / Sickens at all the Noise and Folly of it."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1715

"Oh! Pembroke, 'tis in vain to hide from thee; / For thou hast look'd into my artless Bosom, / And seen at once the Hurry of my Soul."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)