Identifier: englishdanceofde01comb (find matches)
Title: The English dance of death, from the designs of Thomas Rowlandson;
Year: 1903 (1900s)
Authors: Combe, William, 1742-1823 Rowlandson, Thomas, 1756-1827
Subjects: Dance of death
Publisher: London, Methuen and co.
Contributing Library: Duke University Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: Duke University Libraries

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d it fast,Said grinning Death,—c for tis your last.The Doctor heard the dreadful sound;The Doctor felt the fatal wound, ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH III And hastning through the chamber door,Sunk down, all breathless on the floor, Ah, never more to rise again. —Thus Doctors die like other men. 112 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH DEATH AND THE PORTRAIT By Love conducted Flavia came,(I must not tell her other name)To yield the charms that deck her face,Her Cherub smiles and Angel grace,To the accomplishd Painters art,Which to the canvas might impartThe fair resemblance of a Maid,Whom Nature had so well arrayd.Flavia was seated to receiveThe Likeness which that art could give,And while, obedient to his will,The pencil markd its rapid skill,Enamourd Florio, who sat by,And tracd the work with curious eye,By tender love and beauty fird,And as the faithful Muse inspird,In tuneful accents thus addressdThe fond instructions of his breast.— ( Painter, vains thy utmost art1 To draw the Idol of my heart :
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ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH 113 1 Thy canvas never can receive 1 The varied charms her features give. When, grave, she wears the awful grace Thats seen in regal Junos face: 1 When on her cheeks the smiles appear, Tis Venus better self is there; And when she looks with studious eye, 1 Another Pallas we descry. Painter, thy pencil well may trace 1 A Junos awful, heavenly grace; 1 Upon your easel may be seen, 1 Chaste Beautys fair, imperial Queen; 1 Een Wisdoms goddess may appear In all her native splendor there: But in my breast alone can be The perfect image of the Three. Thus did the Muse the art defy :The Pencil, eager to reply,Dashd on the cloth, in colours warm,The semblance of the lovely form.And now her smiling cheeks discloseThe lily mingled with the rose;And soon her beaming eyes dispenseThe softend rays of manly sense :vol. 1.—H 114 ENGLISH DANCE OF DEATH Her graceful form, her auburn hair,All, all the magic power declare.Loose flows the robe upon the ground,And many a Cupid flut

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