Adrian In Syria | ||
SCENE XV.
Pharnaspesalone.
How is my soul still bound with mortal ties
To this unhappy frame! thus, thus to bear
Such load of wretchedness! Unpitying stars!
O! take me hence and let me rest for ever.
'Tis false that mortals' vital breath
With sorrow must decay;
That every ill, which brings not death,
Will lightly pass away.
With sorrow must decay;
That every ill, which brings not death,
Will lightly pass away.
No thought that sooths man's suffering kind
To me can comfort give:
My woes would shake the firmest mind,
And yet, alas! I live.
To me can comfort give:
My woes would shake the firmest mind,
And yet, alas! I live.
[Exit.
Adrian In Syria | ||