Date: 1703

"If any Spark from Heav'n remain unquench'd / Within her Breast, my Breath perhaps may wake it; / Cou'd I but prosper there, I wou'd not doubt / My Combat with that loud vain-glorious Boaster."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1703

"My fierce, ambitious Soul / Declining droops, and all her Fires grow pale; / Yet let not this Advantage swell thy Pride, / I Conquer'd in my turn, in Love I Triumph'd."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)

Date: 1703

"Wou'd it were Death, as sure 'tis wond'rous like it, / For I am sick of Living, my Soul's pall'd, / She kindles not with Anger or Revenge; / Love was th'informing, active Fire within, / Now that is quench'd, the Mass forgets to move, / And longs to mingle with its kindred Earth."

— Rowe, Nicholas (1674-1718)