. Poems . Si*^^^. WRITTEN TO BE SPOKEN RVMRS. SIDDONS.* Yes, tis the pulse of life! my fears were vain;I wake, 1 breathe, and am myself in this nether world; no seraph yet!Nor walks my spirit, when the sun is troubled step to haunt the fatal I died last—by poison or the sword; * After a Tragedy, performed for her benefit, ;it the TheiitreRoyal in Drury-lanc, April 27, 166 Blanching each honest cheek with deeds of night,Done licre so oft by dim and tloubtfid light. —To drop all metaphor, that little bellCalled back reality, and broke the heroine
. Poems . Si*^^^. WRITTEN TO BE SPOKEN RVMRS. SIDDONS.* Yes, tis the pulse of life! my fears were vain;I wake, 1 breathe, and am myself in this nether world; no seraph yet!Nor walks my spirit, when the sun is troubled step to haunt the fatal I died last—by poison or the sword; * After a Tragedy, performed for her benefit, ;it the TheiitreRoyal in Drury-lanc, April 27, 166 Blanching each honest cheek with deeds of night,Done licre so oft by dim and tloubtfid light. —To drop all metaphor, that little bellCalled back reality, and broke the heroine claims your tears with tragic tone;A very woman—scarce restrains her own!Can she, with fiction, charm the cheated mind,When to be grateful is the part assigned?Ah, no! she scorns the trappings of her Art;No theme but truth, no prompter but the heart! But, Ladies, say, must I alone unmask ?Is here no other actress, let me me, those, who best the heart every Woman studies stage-effect.
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Keywords: ., bookauthorrogerssamue, bookcentury1800, bookidpoemssam00rogerich
