File:Memoirs of the city of London and its celebrities (1902) (14580961317).jpg

Identifier: memoirsofcityofl03jess (find matches)
Title: Memoirs of the city of London and its celebrities
Year: 1902 (1900s)

William Thomas Fry  (1789–1843)
Alternative names	W. T. Fry
Description	English engraver
Date of birth/death	1789	1843
Location of birth/death	London	London
Work period	1803 –1843
Work location	London
Authority file	: Q8019311 VIAF: 34729354 ISNI: 0000000066617506 ULAN: 500065590 LCCN: nr92044335 NLA: 36044858 WorldCat

After Harold Crease  (1788–)
Description	British painter
Date of birth	1788
Authority file	: Q18508268 VIAF: 71224404 LCCN: no2009005472 WorldCat

Subjects:
Publisher: Boston L.C. Page
Contributing Library: Robarts - University of Toronto
Digitizing Sponsor: University of Toronto

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eal,And whereon hung the welfare of these realms.Therewith he spake of the states sufferings.The murders, rapines, spoliations, frauds,That sprang from the unnatural dissentsTwixt York and Lancaster. He then denouncedThe usurpation of my uncle, Gloucester;But God and vengeance were at work, he said :A faithful band of nobles, statesmen, knights.Headed by one, young, comely, brave, discreet,Had sworn to raise me to my fathers throne.Then spake he of thy cousin, Anne, as oneWho from his boyhood had aspired to blendThe rival Roses in my bridal wreath.To make a love-knot of our fathers feuds.And, with the aid of God and his own sword.To end for ever the unholy warsOur sires ambition had entailed on us.I was so friendless, hopeless, spiritless.And he I spake with looked so true and kind,I almost loved him for his missions sake.Not that he urged me to too rash resolve;For bidding me implore the grace of HeavenHe left me to my solitude. That nightI prayed and sobbed myself to sleep, and when
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THE LAST WAR OF THE ROSES. 243 The morning sunbeams cheered my prison-room,There was such sweet consolement in my thoughtsThou scarce wilt marvel when I tell thee, Anne,That, when my brave ambassador returned,I signed my sceptre and myself away. Anne. Lady ! a heavy stake forsooth thou hastDepending on the hazard of these times. P. Eliz. Far heavier than thou reckest of.Theres oneWho seeks to work me such a cruel wrong.That, should the blessed saints abandon me,I am lost indeed. Anne. Whom speakst thou of .-* P. Eliz. The king. An7ie. The king) P. Eliz. Hush! hush ! these very walls have ears.And maidens secrets should be sacred things.Yet list to me! This most incestuous king.Despite our close affinity of blood.Would wed with me ; — ay! sweetheart, wed with me, —His own most wretched niece, in hopes to foundA dynasty as foul as Lucifers. An?te. The saints preserve thee! twere tooterrible.But has he breathed to thee his dire intent .•* P, Eliz. The tomb had scarcely claimed theb

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