[Supposed to be written in India, while the plague was raging, and playing havoc among the British residents and troops stationed there. This has been attributed to Alfred Domett and to Bartholomew Dowling, but was written by neither of them. It first appeared in the New York Albion, but the author is absolutely unknown.] WE meet 'neath the sounding rafter, As they shout to our peals of laughter, Not here are the goblets glowing, Macbeth, Act i. Sc. 7. SHAKESPEARE. As life were in 't. I have supped full with hor I have almost forgot the taste of fear. The time has been, my senses would have quailed Put out the light, and then - put out the light. To hear a night-shriek; and my fell of hair If I quench thee, thou flaming minister, Would at a dismal treatise rouse, and stir, I can again thy former light restore, Should I repent me; but once put out thy light, Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature, I know not where is that Promethean heat, That can thy light relume. When I have plucked thy rose rors: Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, Macbeth, Act v. Sc. 4. All mankind SUICIDE. Is one of these two cowards; SHAKESPEARE. |