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Select Paffages from Dramatic Writers,





CLASS 1.Joy.

HEN is Oreftes bleft !--- My griefs are fled!
Fled like a dream!-Methinks I tread in air!-
Surprifing happinefs! unlook'd for joy!
Never let love defpair! The prize is mine!-
Be smooth, ye feas; and, ye propitious winds,
Blow from Epirus to the Spartan coast !

MY charmed ears ne'er knew

A found of fo much joy, of fo much rapture!
Not voices, inftruments, nor warbling birds;
Not winds, nor inurmuring waters join'd in concert ;
Not tuneful nature, nor th' according spheres ;
Utter fuch harmony, as when my Selima,
With down-caft looks and blushes, faid-I love.

LET mirth go on; let pleasure know no paufe ;
But fill up every minute of this day.

'Tis your's, my children, facred to your loves.
The glorious fun himself for you looks gay:
He fhines for altamont, and for Califta.-
Take care my gates be open. Bid all welcome.


Al who rejoice with me, to-day, are friends. Let each indulge his genius: each be glad, Jocund and free, and fwell the feaft with mirth. The iprightly bowl shall chearfully go round. None fhall be grave, nor too feverely wife. Loffes and difappointments, cares and poverty, The rich man's infolence, and great man's scorn, In wine fhall be forgotten all.

ལ ྂབཅ་བབ་ཅང



LL go; and, in the anguish of my heartWeep o'er my child.-If he muft die, my life Is wrapt in his; I fhall not long furvive.

'Tis for his fake, that I have fuffer'd life;
Groan'd in captivity and out-liv'd Hector.—
Yes, my Aftyanax! we'll go together;
Together-to the realms of night we'll go,

ALL dark, and comfortless!

Where are thofe various objects, that but now,
Employ'd my bufy eyes? Where thofe eyes?-
Dead are their piercing rays, that, lately, fhot
O'er flow'ry yales to diftant funny hills,
And drew with joy the vaft horizon in,
These groping hands are now my only guides,
And feeling all my fight.-

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O mifery! what words can found my grief?
Shut from the living, whilft among the living;
Dark as the grave, amidst the bustling world!
At once, from bus'nefs, and from pleasure barr'd !
No more to view the beauty of the Spring-
Nor fee the face of kindred, or of friend!



ADST thou but feen, as I did, how, at laft,
Thy beauties Belvidera, like a wretch

That s doom'd to banishment, came weeping forth,
Whilst two young virgins, on whose arms she lean'd,
Kindly look'd up, and at her grief grew fad!
Ev'n the lewd rabble, that were gather'd round
To fee the fight, ftood mute when they beheld her,
Govern'd their roaring throats-and grumbled pity.

AND, can fhe bear it? Can that delicate frame
Endure the beating of a storm fo rude?
Can fhe, for whom the various feafons chang'd,
To court her appetite, and crown her board;
For whom the foreign vintages were prefs'd;
For whom the merchant spread his filken ftores ;
Can fhe-

Entreat for bread, and want the needful raiment,
To wrap her shiv'ring bofom from the weather?-
When the 'was mine, no care came ever nigh her :
I thought the gentlest breeze, that awakes the fpring,
Too rough to breathe upon her: chearfulness
Danc'd all the day before her; and, at night,
Soft lumbers waited on her downy pillow-
Now, fad and helterlefs, perhaps the lies
Where piercing winds blow sharp, and the chill rain
Dropt, from fome pent-house, on her wretched head,
Drenches her locks-and kills her with the cold.

AS, in a theatre, the eyes of men,
After a well-grac'd actor leaves the stage,
Are idly bent on him that enters next,
Thinking his prattle to be tedious:

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