![]() ![]() His dreams of horror and his works of sin. His face among the crowd, and I will tell him White with the snows of perfect innocence. Still is one countenance beautiful in death, The marriage-lamp doth burn unquenchably.ĭry up your tears, fair virgins! to the grave To clasp their shroudless bodies, and to lie Who would exchange the fever's burning pillowįor the refreshing coolness of the grave!Īnd I will tell you when your heads shall rest Riots in darkness 'mid his unknown victims,Ĭome to me all ye wearied who would rest, The sun is going down, and when he sets,īlind as my wretched brethren. A great square in the city.-A multitude of miserable men and women crowding round a person of a wild and savage appearance, dressed in a fantastical garb, with an hour-glass in his hand.Īstrologer. ![]() John Wilson, from City of the Plague ACT I, SCENE II. ![]()
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