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Updated: May 5, 2025
'Guid-mornin' to your Majesty! May Heav'n augment your blisses, On ev'ry new birthday ye see, A humble poet wishes! My bardship here, at your levee, On sic a day as this is, Is sure an uncouth sight to see, Amang thae birthday dresses Sae fine this day.
But here's no work for life, that's freely given; Meat, drink, and cloths, and life, we have from heav'n; Work's here enjoined, 'cause it is a pleasure, Vice to suppress, and augment heavenly treasure Moreover, 'tis to shew, if men profess The faith, and yet abide in idleness, Their faith is vain, no man can ever prove He's right, but by the faith that works by love.
The Tragedy of Sir Thomas Overbury, written by his early companion in London, Richard Savage was brought out with alterations at Drury-lane theatre . The Prologue to it was written by Mr. Richard Brinsley Sheridan; in which, after describing very pathetically the wretchedness of 'Ill-fated Savage, at whose birth was giv'n No parent but the Muse, no friend but Heav'n:
Cowley; If e'er Ambition did my Fancy cheat, With any Wish so mean as to be Great; Continue, Heav'n, still from me to remove The humble Blessings of that Life I love. Thomas Sprat, Bishop of Rochester, in his Life of Cowley prefixed to an edition of the Poet's works.
Disarm'd! by Heav'n, you shall not so escape A Rage that is too just here to give o'er. SCENE IV. Changes to the Inside of Friendlove's Lodgings. Enter Celinda, as before, met by Nurse. Nur. Oh, Madam, here's Mr. Bellmour; he has wounded my young Master, who deny'd him Entrance, and is come into the House, and all in Rage demands his Wife. Cel. Oh Heav'n! Demands his Wife!
To break thy Heart, know then, she loves another, And has took back the Vows she made to thee, And given 'em to a Man more worthy of 'em. Bel. Alas! I credit thee yet then, by Heav'n, she's false! Nay, now nor Heaven, nor Hell, shall hinder me. Stand off, or to the number I'll add one Sin more, And make my Passage to it through thy Heart. Friend. And so you shall, Sir.
Brother, I am afraid you are a little inclined to be jealous, that will destroy all Friendship. Fran. So, how finely the Devil begins to insinuate! Car. That makes a Hell of the Heav'n of Love, and those very Pains you fear, are less tormenting than that Fear; what say you, Brother, is't not so with you? Fran.
Here pitying Heav'n that virtue mutual found, And blasted both, that it might neither wound. Hearts so sincere th' Almighty saw well pleas'd, Sent his own lightning and the victims seiz'd. I Think not by vig'rous judgment seiz'd, A pair so faithful could expire; Victims so pure Heav'n saw well pleas'd, And snatch'd them in celestial fire.
Soft were your hours, and wing'd with pleasure flew, No vain repentance gave a sign to you, And if superior bliss heav'n can bestow, With fellow-angels you enjoy it now." By the Duke of Wharton
"Oh, if the soul, releas'd from mortal cares, Views the sad scene, the voice of mourning hears, Then, dearest saint, didst thou thy heav'n forego, Lingering on earth in pity to our woe. 'Twas thy kind influence sooth'd our minds to peace.
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