Piteous

1782, Frances Burney, Cecilia, London: T. Payne & Son and T. Cadell, Volume 2, Book 3, Chapter 4, p. 51, […] my strength, madam, is almost all gone away, and when I do any hard work, it’s quite a piteous sight to see me, for I am all in a tremble after it, just as if I had an ague […]

[…] with his strong arms He fastened on my neck, and bellowed out As he’d burst heaven; threw him on my father; Told the most piteous tale of Lear and him That ever ear receiv’d;

In the deep, still darkness of midnight, I have been often aroused by the dead, heavy footsteps and the piteous cries of the chained gangs that passed our door.

“[…] you go out to beg, first smearing yourself with mud and filth to make yourselves as piteous as you can.”

As fear chilled him to the bone, he loosed a final piteous groan.

For the Lord kan delyuere piteuouse men fro temptacioun, and kepe wickid men in to the dai of dom to be turmentid;

Thine eye begins to speak; set thy tongue there; Or in thy piteous heart plant thou thine ear; That hearing how our plaints and prayers do pierce, Pity may move thee ‘pardon’ to rehearse.

The water Nymphs that in the bottome playd Held up their pearled wrists and tooke her in, Bearing her straite to aged Nereus hall Who piteous of her woes rea[r’]d her lanke head, And gave her to his daughters to imbathe In nectar’d lavers strewd with asphodil,