Description
Excerpt from The Mysterious Mother: A Tragedy
Of fome night-haunted ruin, bore an afpeét Of horror, worn to habitude. ''he bade God blefs me and pafs''d on. _i urg d him farther Good mailer, cried he, go not to the callle There forrow ever dwells, and moping mifery. I prefs''d him''yet - None there, faid he, are welcome, But now and then a mals-prieli, and the poor, To whom the pious Countefs deals her alms, On covenant, that each revolvmg night They beg of heav''n the health of her fon''s foul, And of hegggvn But often as returns The twentieth of September, they are bound Fall from the midnight watch to pray till morn, More would he not difclofe, or knew not more. -vvhat prec1ous mummely Her fon in exile, She wafies on mon s and beggars his inheritance, his foul''s health I never knew a woman lov''d our bodies or our fouls too well. Each mafter-whim maintains its hour of empire, And obllinately faithful to its m, With equal ardor, equal 1mportunity, They teaze us to be damn''d, or to be fav''d. (i hate to love or pray too long.)
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Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com
This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.
Of fome night-haunted ruin, bore an afpeét Of horror, worn to habitude. ''he bade God blefs me and pafs''d on. _i urg d him farther Good mailer, cried he, go not to the callle There forrow ever dwells, and moping mifery. I prefs''d him''yet - None there, faid he, are welcome, But now and then a mals-prieli, and the poor, To whom the pious Countefs deals her alms, On covenant, that each revolvmg night They beg of heav''n the health of her fon''s foul, And of hegggvn But often as returns The twentieth of September, they are bound Fall from the midnight watch to pray till morn, More would he not difclofe, or knew not more. -vvhat prec1ous mummely Her fon in exile, She wafies on mon s and beggars his inheritance, his foul''s health I never knew a woman lov''d our bodies or our fouls too well. Each mafter-whim maintains its hour of empire, And obllinately faithful to its m, With equal ardor, equal 1mportunity, They teaze us to be damn''d, or to be fav''d. (i hate to love or pray too long.)
About the Publisher
Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com
This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.
Details
Publisher - Forgotten Books
Language - English
Hardback
Contributors
Author
Horace Walpole
Published Date -
ISBN - 9780332864556
Dimensions - 22.9 x 15.2 x 0.5 cm
Page Count - 98
Paperback
Contributors
Author
Horace Walpole
Published Date -
ISBN - 9780259190196
Dimensions - 22.9 x 15.2 x 0.6 cm
Page Count - 100
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