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Untitled Article
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Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
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Untitled Article
And leave posterity to find her own . Health , sir ! may your good deeds crown you in heaven . Mid . 'Twere best men left their fame to chance and fashion , As birds bequeath their eggs to the sun ' s hatching , Since genius can make no will . Mar . Troth , can it !
But , for the consequences of the deed , What fires of blind fatality may catch them ! Say , you do love a woman—do adore her—You may embalm the memory of her worth And chronicle her beauty to all time ,
In words whereat great Jove himself might flush And feel Olympus tremble at his thoughts ; Yet where is your security ? Some clerk Wanting a fool ' s-cap , or some boy a kite , Some housewife fuel , or some sportsman wadding To wrap a ball ( which hits the poet ' s brain
By merest accident ) seizes your record , And to the winds thus scatters all your will , Or , rather , your will ' s object . Thus , our pride Swings like a planet by a single hair Obedient to God's breath . More wine ! more wine !
I preach—and I grow melancholy—wine ! Enter Drawer , with a tankard . A Gent , ( rising ) . We ' re wending homeward—gentlemen , good night ! Mar . Not yet—not yet—the night has scarce begun—Nay , Master Heywood—Middleton , you'll stay '
Bright skies to those who go—high thoughts go with ye , And constant youth ! Gent . We thank you , sir—good ni ght ! [ Exeunt Gentlemen . Hey . Let ' s follow—' tis near morning . Mar . Do not go .
I ' m ill at ease , touching a certain matter I have taken to heart—don ' t speak of ' t—and besides I have a sort of horror of my bed . Last night a squadron charged me in a dream , With Isis and Osiris at the flanks ,
Towering and waving their colossal arms , While in the van a fiery chariot roJl'd Wherein a woman stood—I knew her well—Who seem'd but newly risen from the grave . She whiri'd a javelin at me , and methought [ woke ; when , slowly at the foot o ' the bed
Untitled Article
134 The Death of Marlowe .
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Citation
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Monthly Repository (1806-1838) and Unitarian Chronicle (1832-1833), Aug. 1, 1837, page 134, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/mruc/issues/vm2-ncseproduct1834/page/62/
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