mM ^QaN ' ■"" ■ !■ Ex LlBRIS ;©r. falter ^Harbtng ^Bram Ci poetical Quotation?" tyrcsenteb to the 1[forarfi ofConaress 3n .iRemorjj of Br. Waiter ^rarbwig <8ram>, 1798 - 1865 HMtlltam Mc&hxxz Jfcm«, 1826 - 1909 P« ^auc JBratte ^urkner ana ^urtk ^Brartc, granocaugfytsrs attfr baugljters respectfosly of tije aboiic- September 29, 1950 § I 1 Y M| ir ./• M J A CONSISTING OF ELEGANT EXTRACTS ON EVERY SUBJECT COMPILED FROM VARIOUS AUTHORS, AND ARRANGED UNDER APPROPRIATE HEADS, BY 3"OH3M To WATiOlTo EBo WITH ILLUSTRATIONS. The World is full of Poetry. The air Is living with its spirit,' and the waves Dance to the music of its melodies, And sparkle in its brightness. Percival PHILADELPHIA: LINDSAY AND BLAKISTON. V ^ Entered, according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1847, by JOHN T. WATSON. M.D., in the clerk's office of the District Court cf the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. TO MBS. AMELIA B. WELBY, E LOUISVILLE, KENTUCKY, THIS WORK « £a most EUspectfuiir r-itscribc"& AS A TRIBCTK OF ADMIRATION TO ONE OF THE BEST POETS OUR COUNTK'V. PREFACE In this book-making age, various are the causes which have induced men to become authors. With some, chill Penury has been the only stimulus with others, Ambition, that spur to great and r.oble deeds as well as vices, has been the cnief excitant. Some have been influenced by tr;s Bene^ol^e* and a sincere wish to ameliorate the condition of mankind ; while others have written to gratify rapacious Avarice or fell Revenge. Science, with its occult truths, and the wonderful and gratifying disclosures it makes to its followers has produced many authors; and another and quite numerous class has been generated by pure Ennui — an intolerable weariness at having nothing to do. None of these potent causes has exercised much influence in the conception and execution of this "Work : it may be said to have been the result of mere accident — an agent not less observable in many of the actions of men than those above enumerated. The task of making the following collection "^hs commenced four or five years ago, but without any view to puoiicatiun ; ana A was not until the pages had accumulated so as to assume somewhat of a book- like appearance, that the resolution to print them was adopted: a re; which has been considerably influenced and encouraged by the consideration, that there is a necessity and a demand for such a book at this time. To the editor, the author, and the public speaker, it is believed that a great convenience will hereby be afforded ; for nothing adorns a composition or a speech more than appropriate quotations — endorsing, as it were, our own sentiments with the sanction of other minds — unless the haoit of quorni^ a too often indulged, when it degenerates into pedantry, and becomes unpleasing. It is hoped, too, that the general reader, at least every lover of Poetry, will here find much to instruct and amuse. And who, that has feeling, is not a lover of Poetry ? Who can listen to '• the dear, dear witchery of song." nor feel that it is the very language of Nature herstlf ? Coming as it does from the heart, it appeals directly to the hearts of others, and seems to take the fancy and the feelings captive unawares. So universal is its influence, and so comprehensive its scope, that there is scarcely a .heme within the range oi the imagination, from the sublime conceptions of Milton and Dante to the ridiculous and common-place subjects of Butler's verse, which may not be appropriately sung "in liquid lines mellifluously bland." I* (v) V! PREFACE. 1 1 wiL be perceived that a great number of authors are here quoted. Exten. give libraries, not accessible to the great mass of readers, have been ransacked, and many volumes have been read simply for the purpose of plucking some of their sweet flowers from the native wild wood in which we find them sur- rounded and almost obscured by weeds and thistles, and transplanting them to bloom in this little parterre. The Extracts, with few exceptions, have been arranged in chronological order, extending from the days of the earliest English poets to the present time, and embracing many passages from the poetry of America. Perhaps an apology is due from the author for having inserted some of hia own effusions in this collection. In some instances, pieces have been com- posed by him to illustrate a subject in a manner different from those that preceded them ; in others, they have been inserted simply to fill a vacant corner; and in others, because they were already written, and it was thought they would at least do no injury, and might possibly serve to render more apparent the beauty of others, by contrast, as the brightest stars in the firn^a- ment seem more brilliant when compared with the small twinklers that surround them. Another motive for this temerity, — and this is not the least just, if not the most satisfactory, of those that might be urged, — may perhaps be traced to that ubiquitous principle, vanitas scriptorum, and to its offspring, which Byron exhibited to his Reviewers, when he wrote in extenuation of his offence — 1 'Tis pleasant, sure, to see one's name in print ; A book's a book, although there's nothing in't." To the compilation and classification of the following Extracts much time and labor have been devoted. Still the critical reader will doubtless find many imperfections, both in the plan and execution of the work, which can scarcely be excused by the fact of its having been prepared for the press amidst the continuous and exacting calls of professional studies. But, tedious and even perplexing as the task has often been in its details, on the whole it has proved a labor of love, to collect into one casket what were "like orient pearls at random strung ;" and, such as the book is, the compiler would fain present it to its readers as a variegated bouquet, culled from the many gardens that diversify and adorn the extensive fields of English and American Poetry. J. T. W. Philadelphia, April, 1847. LIST EMBELLISHMENTS. THE NOONTIDE DREAM Frontispiece. CONTEMPLATION Vignette Title. MODESTY Page 73 THE THUNDERSTORM 127 THE VILLAGE TOMB-CUTTER 177 THE PARTING WREATH 277 BEREAVEMENT 315 THE BASHFUL LOVER 371 LOVE AND INNOCENCE 483 TABLE OF CONTENTS. A. Absence Page 13 Action 15 Activity 16 Actors 17 Adieu 19 Adversity 23 Advice 27 Affection 28 Age 30 Ambition 32 Ancestry 35 Anger 37 Animal 40 Antiquary 42 Apparel 43 Appearance 45 Appetite 49 Applause 51 Architecture 53 Argument 53 Artifice 50 Assassination 57 Associates 58 Astonishment 59 Authors 60 Autumn 61 Avarice 65 B. Ball 67 Banishment 70 Banner 71 Bashfulness 72 Battle 74 Beast 40 Beauty 79 Beggar 84 Betting 85 Bigotry S6 Birdt 87 Birth 91 Blacksmith 91 Blindness 92 Blush 93 Boasting 93 Book 94 Bravery 97 Brevity 145 Bribery 65 Brute 40 Building 53 C. Calumny 101 Candor 104 Care 104 Caution 107 Celibacy 108 Ceremony 110 Chance 110 Change 112 Character 114 Charity 116 Ghastity 108 Cheerfulness 117 Childhood 121 Chivalry 124 Church 125 Cigar 126 Clergy 125 Cloud 127 Company 58 Compassion 283 Concealment .... 128 Confession 130 Confidence 131 Conscience 131 Consent 136 Constancy 137 Contemplation 141 Contempt 142 (vii) via CONTENTS, Contentment 143 Conversation 145 Coquette 148 Country 149 Country Life 472 Courage 97 Courtier 153 Courtship 155 Cowardice 159 Credulity 161 Criticism 162 Critics 162 Cruelty 165 Curiosity 167 Curses 168 Custom 169 D. Dancing 67 Danger 170 Day 171 Death 175 Decay ' 180 Deceit 181 Declaration 184 Defiance 185 Delay 186 Delicacy 187 Design 188 Despair 188 Destiny 19*1 Destruction 192 Determination 193 Detraction 194 Dinner 49 Disappointment 194 Discontent 143 Discretion 107 Disease 198 Dishonesty 201 Displeasure 201 Disposition 114 Dissension 203 Distance 203 Domestic Affairs 204 Doubt 161 Drama 17 Dreams 206 Dress 43 Drinking 209 Drunkenness 209 Duty 131 E. Eating 49 Echo 214 Ecstasy 214 Education 215 Egotism 219 Elegance 220 Eloquence 221 Embrace 224 Emigration 227 Emulation 32 Enemy 228 Engagement 230 Enjoyment 231 Enterprise 16 Enthusiasm 235 Envy 101 Equality 236 Error 237 Esteem 238 Eternity 239 Etiquette 240 Evening 171 Example 241 Excellence 242 Excess 209 Execution 245 Exercise 246 Exile 70 Expectation 247 Experience 248 Extravagance 249 Extremes 249 Eyes 250 F. Fairies 254 Faith 256 Falsehood 257 Fame 260 Fancy 262 Farewell 19 Farmer 93 CONTENTS IX Fashion 43 Fate 191 Father 265 Favor 267 Fear 159 Feasting 49 Features 250 Feeling 268 Festivity 209 Fickleness 270 Fighting 74 Firmness 193 Fishing 270 Flag 71 Flattery 274 Flowers 277 Folly 279 Fools 279 Forgetfulness 281 Forget Me Not 282 Forgiveness 283 Fortitude 97 Fortune 110 Frankness 286 Freedom 286 Friendship 289 Fruits 277 Funeral 293 Futurity 239 G. Gambling 85 Genius 295 Gentleman 296 Ghost 297 Gloom 104 Glory 32 Gluttony 209 God 299 Gold 301 Gossip 305 Grace 308 Gratitude 307 Grave 175 Greatness 308 Grief 312 Guilt 316 H. Habit 169 Hair 250 Happiness 231 Hatred 228 Health 198 Heart 318 Heaven 320 Hell 320 Hermit 321 History 324 Home 204 Honesty 325 Honor 325 Hope 327 Horse 330 Humility 331 Hunger 49 Hunting 270 Hypocrisy 181 I. Idleness 332 Ignorance 335 Imagination 262 Immortality 336 Impatience 338 Imprisonment 339 Impudence 341 Incredulity 161 Indian 342 Indifference 343 Indigence 344 Industry 332 Ingenuousness 2S6 Ingratitude 307 Injury 347 Injustice 348 Innocence 349 Insect 350 Instinct 352 Intellect 295 Intention 188 J. Jail 339 Jealousy 354 CONTENTS. Joy 231 Justice 348 K. Kindness 356 Kings 358 Kiss 224 L. Laughter 117 Law 361 Lawyers 361 Learning 215 Letters 363 Liberty 286 Life 364 Lips 250 loquacity 145 Love 368 Lust 381 Luxury 383 M. Madness 385 Maledictions 168 Malice 228 Man 386 Matrimony 391 Mechanic 93 Medicine 198 Meekness 395 Meeting 396 Melancholy 104 Memory 397 Mercy 283 Merit 242 Mildness 395 Mind 402 Mirth 117 Misanthropy 405 Miser 65 Misery 406 Misfortune 23 Mob 410 Modesty 72 Money 301 Moon 412 Morning 171 Mother 265 Mountain 413 Mourning 293 Murder 51 Music 415 N. Name 419' Nature 420 Necessity 191 Neglect 422 News 424 Newspaper 94 Night 171 Nobility 35 Notoriety 260 Novels 425 Novelty 426 Nun 321 O. Oaths 426 Obituary 427 Oblivion 281 Obstinacy 430 Ocean 431 Offence 433 Office 434 Old Age 30 Opinion 435 Opportunity 436 Oppression 437 Orator 221 Order 439 P. Pain 439 Painting 440 Parasite 153 Parents 265 Parting 19 Passions 44 1 Patience 338 Patriotism 149 Peace 445 Peasant 93 Pedigree 35 Perfection 446 Peril 170 Perseverance 333 CONTENTS XI Philanthropy 356 Philosophy 447 Phrenology 448 Physician 198 Pity 283 Pleasure 231 Poetry 449 Politeness 240 Politics 454 Popularity 51 Portrait 440 Poverty 344 Power 308 Praise 274 Prayer 455 Preferment 458 Press 94 Presumption 458 Pride 459 Prison 339 Prisoner 339 Procrastination 186 Proposal 184 Prosperity 231 Providence 299 Prudence 107 Punishment 461 Purity 349 Q. Quacks 198 R. Rabble 410 Rage 37 Rainbow 461 Reason 402 Recall 462 Reciprocity 463 Reconciliation 463 Refinement 464 Reflection 141 Refusal 464 Religion 455 Remembrance 397 Remorse 465 Repentance 465 Report , 466 Reproof 467 Reputation J 114 Resolution 193 Retirement 321 Reward 467 Revenge 468 Ridicule.. 469 Right 348 Rivers 470 Rogue 201 Romance 425 Royalty 358 Rudeness 240 Ruin 192 Rumor 466 Rural Scenes 471 S. Sabbath 473 Sadness 104 Safety 474 Sailing 474 Sailor 475 Satiety 476 Satire 477 Savage 342 Scandal 305 Scenery 478 Scepticism 478 School 479 Science 215 Sea 431 Season 61 Secresy 128 Self 219 Senses 352 Sensibility 268 Sensitiveness 480 Separation 13 Servility 481 Shame 469 Ship 474 Silence 482 Simplicity 482 Singing 415 Slander 101 Slavery 481 Sleep 208 Xll CONTENTS. Slight 422 Smile 117 Smoking 126 Society 58 Solitude 321 Song 415 Sophistry 53 Sorrow 406 Soul 336 Splendor 484 Spring 61 Sport 270 Stars 412 Statesman 485 Station . 35 Storm . 127 Stubbornness 430 Style 162 Suicide 486 Summer 61 Sun 412 Superiority 236 Superstition 297 Surfeit 476 Surprise 59 Suspense 247 Suspicion 354 Swearing 426 Sycophant 274 Sympathy 488 T. Talent 295 Taste 162 Teacher 479 Tears 312 Temper 37 Temperance 209 Temptation 489 Theatre 17 Thief 201 Thirst 490 Thought 402 Time 490 Timidity 492 Titles 35 Token 492 Torture 165 Town and Country 471 Transport 214 Traveller 493 Treachery 494 Treason 495 Triumph 495 Truth 257 Twilight 171 Tyranny 437 U. Unanimity 496 Unbelief 478 V. Vanity 459 Variety 497 Vengeance -468 Vice 316 Vicissitude 112 Victory 495 Virtue 455 W. Want 344 War 74 Wealth J 301 Weather 127 Wedlock 391 Weeping 312 Widow 293 Wife 498 Wine 209 Winter 61 Wisdom 215 Wit 215 Witches 500 Woman 501 Wonder 504 Words 504 World 505 Worth 242 Writers 60 Wrong 347 Y. Youth 121 Z. Zeal 535 THE BOOK OF QUOTATIONS ABSENCE. Though absent, present in desires they be ; Our souls much further than our eyes can see. Drayton Absence not long enough to root out quite All love, increases love at second sight. T. May. Every moment [ 'm from thy sight, the heart within my bosom Moans like a tender infant in its cradle, Whose nurse has left it. Otway's Venice Preserved, There 's not an hour Of day or dreaming nights but I am with thee : There 's not a wind but whispers of thy name, And not a flower that sleeps beneath the moon But in its hues or fragrance tells a tale Of thee. Proctor's Mircmdola. What tender strains of passion can impart The pangs of absence to an amorous heart ! Far, far too faint the powers of language prove, Language, that slow interpreter of love ! Souls paired like ours, like ours to union wrought, Converse by silent sympathy of thought. Pattison. 2 U3) 14 ABSENCE. When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there ; < But alas ! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair! Nor wife, nor children, more shall he behold, Nor friends, nor sacred home. COW PER, Thomson. Thimt'st thou that I could bear to part From tiiee, and learn to halve my heart? Years have not seen, time shall not see The hour that tears my soul from thee. Byron's Bride of Jlbyuos Far I go where fate may lead me, Far across the troubled deep ; Where no stranger's ear shall heed me, Where no eye for me shall weep. Tho' fate, my girl, may bid us part, The soul it cannot, cannot sever ; The heart will seek its kindred heart, And cling to it as close as ever. And canst thou think, because we part Till some brief months have flown, That absence e'er can change a heart Which years have made thine own? T. Moore 'Tis hard to be parted from those With whom we for ever could dwell ; But bitter indeed is the sorrow that flows, When perhaps we are saying farewell— -forever ! Mrs. Opie. When absent from her whom my soul holds most dear, What a medley of passions invade ! In this bosom what anguish, what hope, and what fear, I endure for my beautiful maid ! Braham. ACTION. 15 When far from thee [ bide, In dreams still at thy side I've talk'd to thee; And when I woke, I sigh'd Myself alone to see. From the German — Taylor. We must part awhile ; A few short months — tho' short, they will be long Without thy dear society : but yet We must endure it, and our love will be The fonder after parting — it will grow Intenser in our absence, and again Burn with a tender glow when I return. James G. Percival. Oh Absence ! by tity stern decree, How many a heart, once light and free, Is fill'd with doubts and fears ! Thy days like tedious weeks do seem, Thy weeks slow-moving months we deem, Thy months, long-lingering years ! J. T. Watson. ACTION. Whilst timorous knowledge stands considering, Audacious ignorance hath done the deed ; For who knows most, the most he knows to doubt ; The least discourse is commonly most stout. Daniel. Good actions crown themselves with lasting bays ; Who well deserves needs not another's praise. Heath. If thou dost ill, the joy fades, not the pains ; If well, the pain doth fade, — the joy remains. G. Herbert. 1 6 ACTIVITY - ENTERPRISE. The body sins not; 'tis the will That makes the action good or ill. Our unsteady actions cannot be Manag'd by rules of strict philosophy. Herrick. Sir R. Howard. ACTIVITY— ENTERPRISE. If it were done, when 't is done, then, 'tis well That it were done quickly. Shakspeare. Wise men ne'er sit and wail their loss, But cheerly seek how to redress their harm. Shakspeare. Let 's take the instant by the forward top ; For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees The inaudible and noiseless foot of time Steals, ere we can effect them. How slow the time To the warm soul, that, in the very instant It forms, would execute a great design ! Shakspeare Thomson. The keen spirit Seizes the prompt occasion, — makes the thoughts Start into instant action, and at once Plans and performs, ^solves p.nd executes ! Hannah More. My days, though few, have pass'd below In much of joy, though much of woe ; Yet still, in hours of Jove or strife, I've 'scap'd the weariness of life. Byron's Giaour. ACTORS - DRAMA - THEATRE. 17 Act ! for in action are wisdom and glory ; Fame, immortality — these are its crown ; Would'st thou illumine the tablets of story ? — Build on achievements thy doom of renown. From the German. Seize, mortals, seize the transient hour : Improve each moment as it flies : Life's a short summer — man a flower; He dies — alas ! — how soon he dies ! Let us then be up and doing, With a heart for every fate; Still achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labour and to wait. Henry W. Longfellow. ACTORS — DRAMA — THEATRE. Look to the players ; see them well bestow'd : They are the abstract and brief chroniclers of the times. Shakspeare. They say we live by vice ; indeed 'tis true ; As the physicians by diseases do, Only to cure them. Randolph. Boldly I dare say There has been more by us in some one play Laugh'd into wit and virtue, than hath been By twenty tedious lectures drawn from sin, And foppish humours ; hence the cause doth rise, Men are not won by th' ears, so well as eyes. Randolph. 2* 18 ACTORS - DRAMA - THEATRE. When, with mock majesty and fancied power, He struts in robes, the monarch of an hour; Oft wide of nature must he act a part, Make love in tropes, in bombast break his heart ; In turn and simile resign his breath, And rhyme and quibble in the pains of death. TlCKELL. Whose every look and gesture was a joke To clapping theatres, and shouting crowds, And made even thick-lipp'd, musing melancholy To gather up her face into a smile Before she was aware. Blair's Grave. What we hear With weaker passion will affect the heart, Than when the faithful eye beholds the part. Francis' Horace, Lo, where the stage, the poor, degraded stage, Holds its warp'd mirror to a gaping age ; There, where to raise the Drama's moral tone, Fool Harlequin usurps Apollo's throne. , Sprague's Curiosity. Where one base scene shall turn more souls to shame, Than ten of Channing's Lectures can reclaim. Sprague's Curiosity. Where mincing dancers sport tight pantalets, And turn fops' heads while turning pirouettes. Sprague's Curiosity. And turn from gentle Juliet's woe, To count the twirls of Fanny Elssler's toe. Sprague's Curiosity, ADIEU - FAREWELL - PARTING. 1 9 ADIEU — FAREWELL — PARTING. With that, wringing my hand he turn'd away, And though his tears would hardly let him look, Yet such a look did through his tears make way, As show'd how sad a farewell there he took. Daniel. I part with thee As wretches, that are doubtful of hereafter, Part with their lives, unwilling, loath and fearful, And trembling at futurity. Rowe. Then came the parting hour, and what arise When lovers part — expressive looks, and eyes Tender and tearful — many a fond adieu, And many a call the sorrow to renew. Crabbe's Hall, T were vain to speak, to weep, to sigh ; Oh ! more than tears of blood can tell, "When wrung from guilt's expiring eye, Are in that word, farewell — farewell ! Byron. "Farewell ! — a word that hath been and must be, A sound that makes us linger — yet, farewell ! X( Byron's Child e Harold. Let 's not unman each other — part at once ; All farewells should be sudden, when for ever, Else they make an eternity of moments, And clog the last sad sands of life with tears. Byron's Sardanapalut. One struggle more, and 1 am free From pangs that rend my heart in twain; One last long sigh to love and thee, Then back to busy life again. Byron. 20 ADIEU - FAREWELL - PARTING. Then fare thee well, deceitful maid, 'Twere vain and foolish to regret thee; Nor hope nor memory yield their aid, But time may teach me to forget thee. Byron. But now the moments bring The time of parting, with redoubled wing ; The why — the where — what boots it now to tell ? Since all must end in that wild word, farewell ! Byron's Corsair. Fare thee well ! yet think awhile On one whose bosom bleeds to doubt thee ; Who now would rather trust that smile, And die with thee, than live without thee ! With all my soul, then let us part, Since both are anxious to be free ; And I will send you home your heart, If you will send back mine to me ! Moore. Moore. Well — peace to thy heart, tho' another's it be ; And health to thy cheek, tho' it bloom not for me. MoORE. Enough that we are parted — that there rolls A flood of headlong fate between our souls, Whose darkness severs me as wide from thee As hell from heaven, to all eternity ! Moore's Lalla Rookh. Go, thou vision wildly gleaming, Softly on my soul that fell ; Go, for me no longer beaming, Hope and beauty, fare thee well ! Vanish'd, like dew-drops from the spray, Are moments which in beauty flew ; ADIEU - FAREWELL - PARTING. 2 1 I cast life's brightest pearl away, And, false one, breathe my last adieu ! W. G. Clark. Farewell, oh, farewell ! thou hast broken the chain, And the links, that have bound us, are parted in twain ; But long shall my heart in its sad sorrow tell How I grieved o'er thee, dear one ! — farewell, oh, farewell ! Mrs. C. H. W. Eslinc. One hurried kiss — one last, one long embrace — One yearning look upon her tearful face — And he was gone, and, like a funeral knell, The winds still sigh'd — beloved, fare thee well ! Mrs. C. H. W. Esling* We parted in sadness, but spoke not of parting ; We talk'd not of hopes that we both must resign ; I saw not her eyes, and but one tear-drop starting Fell down on her hand as it trembled in mine. Each felt that the past we could never recover, Each felt that the future no hope could restore ; She shudder'd at wringing the heart of her lover, I dared not to say I must meet her no more. Charles Fen no Hoffman. Farewell, then, thou loved one — O, loved but too well, Too deeply, too blindly for language to tell ! Farewell — thou hast trampled love's faith in the dust, Thou hast torn from my bosom its hope and its trust , Yet, if thy life's current with bliss it would swell, I would pour out my own in this last fond farewell ! Charles Fenno Hoffman. We part — no matter how we part ; There are some thoughts we utter not ; Deep treasured in our inmost heart, Never reveal'd, and ne'er forgot. Richard Henry Wilde. 22 ADIEU - FAREWELL - PARTING. And now farewell ! farewell ! — I dare not lengthen These sweet, sad moments out ; to gaze on thee Is bliss indeed, yet it but serves to strengthen The love that now amounts to agon}- : This is our last farewell — our last fond meeting; The world is wide, and we must dwell apart ; My spirit gives thee now its last fond greeting, With lip to lip, while pulse to pulse is beating, And heart to heart. Mrs. A. B. Welby. I heard thy low whisper'd farewell, love, And silently saw thee depart — Ay, silent — for how could words tell, love, The sorrow that swell'd in my heart ? Yet, tearless and mute though I stood, love, Thy last words are thrilling me yet, And my heart would have breathed, if it could, love, And murmur' d — " O ! do not forget !" Mrs. Frances Osgood. Where'er I go, whate'er my lonely state, Yet grateful memory shall linger here, And when, perhaps, you're musing o'er my fate, You still may greet me with a tender tear ; Ah ! then, forgive me — pitied let me part, Your frowns, too sure, would break my sinking heart. We met ere yet the world had come To wither up the springs of youth ; Amid the holy joys of home, And in the first warm blush of youth: We parted, as they never part Whose tears are doom'd to be forgot ; Oh ! by that agony of heart, Forget me not — forget me not ! 'T was bitter then to rend the heart W 7 ith the sad word that we must part ADVERSITY- MISFORTUNE. 23 And, like some low and mournful spell, To whisper but one word — farewell ! Life hath as many farewells As it hath sunny hours, And over some are scatter'd thorns, And over others, flowers. Kj'.rx Benjamin. Mrs. L. P. Smith. And now, fair ladies, one and all, adieu, Good luck, good husbands, and good bye to you ! ^ J. T. Watson. ( But O ! whate'er my fate may be, And time alone that tale can tell, May you be Happy, blest, and free ,— . From every ill ! Lady, farewell ! ) J. T. Watson. ADVERSITY — MISFORTUNE. So do the winds and thunder cleanse the air, So working bees settle and purge the wine ; So lopp'd and pruned trees do flourish fair ; So doth the fire the drossy gold refine. Spenser's Fairy Queen. 'Tis oarbarous to insult a fallen foe. Adversity, sage useful guest, Severe instructor, but the best, It is from thee alone we know Justly to value things below. So.MERVILE, SoMERVILI A wretched soul, bruis'd with adversity, We bid be quiet when we hear it cry ; But were we burthen'd with like weight of pain, As much or more we should ourselves complain. SHAKSrEARE. 24 ADVERSITY - MISFORTUNE. 'T is ytrange how many unimagin'd charges Can swarm upon a man, when once the lid Of the Pandora box of contumely- Is open'd o'er his head. Sweet are the uses of adversity, Which, like a toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head. Shakspeare. Shakspeare. I am not now in fortune's power ; He that is down can sink no lower. Butler's Hudibras. Heaven but tries our virtue by affliction ; As oft the cloud that wraps the present houi Serves but to lighten all our future days. Brown I will bear it With all the tender sufferance of a friend, As calmly as the wounded patient bears The artist's hand that ministers his cure. Otway's Orphan. Deserted in his utmost need By those his former bounty fed. Affliction is the wholesome soil of virtue ; Where patience, honour, sweet humanity, Calm fortitude, take root and strongly flourish. Mallet. Affliction is the good man's shining scene ; Prosperity conceals his brightest ray ; As night to stars, woe lustre gives to man. Young's Night Thoughts. Misfortune does not always wait on vice ; Nor is success the constant guest of virtue. Dryden. I pray thee, deal with men in misery, Like one who may himself be miserable. Havard. Heywood. ADVERSITY - MISFORTUNE. In this wild world the fondest and the best Are the most tried, most troubled and distress' d. Aromatic plants bestow No spicy fragrance while they grow ; But, crush'd or trodden to the ground, Diffuse their balmy sweets around. Crab be. For every want, that stimulates the breast, Becomes a source of pleasure when redrest. Each breast, however fortified, By courage, apathy, or pride, Has still one secret path for thee, Man's subtle foe — Adversity. Mrs. Holford's The good are better made by ill, As odours crush'd are better still. Goldsmith. Goldsmith. Margaret of Anjou. Rogers. The brave unfortunates are our best acquaintance ; They show us virtue may be much distress'd, And give us their example how to suffer. Though losses and crosses Be lessons right severe, There 's wit there, ye '11 get there, Ye '11 find nae other where. 'T was thine own genius gave the final blow, And heip'd to plant the wound that laid thee low So the struck eagle, stretch'd upon the plain, No more throuoh rolling clouds to soar asrain, View'd his own feather on the fatal dart, And wins'd the shaft that quiver' d in his heart. Keen were his pangs, but keener far to feel He nurs'd the pinion that impeli'd the steel ; 3 Francis. Burns. 2G ADVERSITY -MISFORTUNE. While the same plumage that had warmed his nest, Drank the last life-drop of his bleeding breast. Byron's English Bards, Src. I have not quail' d to danger's brow When high and happy — need I now ? Byron's Giaour. Of all the horrid, hideous notes of woe, Sadder than owl-songs on the midnight blast, Is that portentous phrase, "I told you so," Utter'd by friends, those prophets of the past, Who 'stead of saying what you now should do, Own they foresaw that you would fall at last ; And solace your slight lapse 'gainst " bonos mores, 11 With a long memorandum of old stories. Byron's Don Juan. The rugged metal of the mine Must burn before its surface shine ; But, plung'd within the furnace flame, It bends and melts — tho' still the same. Byron's Giaour. What is the worst of woes that wait on age ? What stamps the wrinkle deepest on the brow ? To view each loved one blighted from life's page, And be alone on earth — as I am now. Byron's Childe Harold. From mighty wrongs to petty perfidy, Have I not seen what human things could do 1 From the loud roar of foaming calumny, To the small whisper of the as paltry few And subtle venom of the reptile crew ? Byron's Childe Harold, A hermit, 'midst of crowds, I fain must stray Alone, tho' thousand pilgrims fill the way : While these a thousand kindred wreaths entwine, I cannot call one single blossom mine. Byron. ADVICE. The blackest ink of fate was sure my lot, And when fate writ my name, it made a blot. 27 Alone she sate — alone ! — that worn-out word, So idly spoken and so coldly heard ; Yet all that poets sing, and grief hath known, Of hope laid waste, knells in that word — alone ! The New Timon. I may not weep — I cannot sigh, A weight is pressing on my breast ; A breath breathes on me witheringly, My tears are dry, my sighs supprest ! N. P. Willis. ADVICE. Let me entreat You to unfold the anguish of your heart ; Mishaps are master'd by advice discreet, And counsel mitigates the oreatest smart. Spenser's Fairy Queen. Direct not him whose way himself will choose ; ; T is breath thou lack'st, and that breath wilt thou lose. G JHAK5PEARE. I pray thee, cease thy counsel, Which falls into mine ear as profitless As water in a sieve. sHAKSPEARE. I shall the effect of this good lesson keep, As watchman to my heart. Shaxspeare Men counsel and speak comfort to that grief Which they themselves not feel ; but, tasting it. Their counsel turns to passion, which before Would give preceptial medicine to rage, 28 AFFECTION. Fetter strong madness in a silken thread, Charm ache with air, and agony with words. Shakspeare Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice ; Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment. Shakspeare AFFECTION. There is in life no blessing like affection ; It soothes, it hallows, elevates, subdues, And bringeth down to earth its native heaven : — Life has naught else that may supply its place. Miss L. E. Landon. Oh ! there are looks and tones that dart An instant sunshine through the heart ; As if the soul that minute caught Some treasure it through life had sought. T. Moore. Alas ! our young affections run to waste, Or water but the desert. Byron's Clrilde Harold. Oh, sweet are the tones of affection sincere, When they come from the depth of the heart ; And sweet are the words that banish each care, And bid sorrow for ever depart ! 'T were sweet to kiss thy tears away, If tears those eyes must know ; But sweeter still to hear thee say, Thou never hadst them flow. BULWER. How cling we to a thing our hearts have nursed ! Mrs. C. H. W. Esling AFFECTION. 29 Oh, if there were one gentle eye To weep when I might grieve, One bosom to receive the sigh Which sorrow oft will heave — One heart, the ways of life to cheer, Though rugged they might be — No language can express how dear That heart would be to me ! Balfe's Bohemian Girl. — Those tones of dear delight, The morning welcome, and the sweet good night ! Charles S Prague. No love is like a sister's love, Unselfish, free, and pure — A flame that, lighted from above, Will guide but ne'er allure. It knows no frown of jealous fear, No blush of conscious guile ; Its wrongs are pardon'd through a tear, Its hopes crown'd by a smile. Fry's Leonora. The sorrows of thy wounded heart I'll teach thee to forget, And win thee back by gentle art From passion's vain regret. And Time shall bring on faithful wing, From o'er the flood of tears, The pledge of peace, when grief may cease, And joy light after years. Fry's Leonora. 3* 30 AGE. AGE. — And his big manly voice, Turning again towards childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Shakspeare, When forty winters shall besiege your brow, And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field, Thy youth's proud livery, so gazed on now, Will be a tatter'd weed, of small worth held. Shakspeare. In me thou seest the twilight of such day, As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. Shakspeare. Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale Her infinite variety. Shakspeare. Old as I am, for ladies' love unfit, The power of beauty I remember yet. Dryden. Shoulder'd his crutch, and show'd how fields were won. Goldsmith's Deserted Village. But grant to life some perquisites of joy ; A time there is, when, like a thrice-told tale, Long rifled life of sweets can yield no more. Young's Night Thoughts. Age sits with decent grace upon his visage, And worthily becomes his silver locks ; He wears the marks of many years well spent, Of virtue truth well tried, and wise experience. Rowe AGE. 31 The hand of time alone disarms Her face of its superfluous charms But adds, for every grace resign'd, A thousand to adorn her mind. Broome. Thus aged men, full loth and slow The vanities of life forego, And count their youthful follies o'er, Till memory lends her light no more. Scott's Rokeby. 'T is the sunset of life gives us mystical lore, And coming events cast their shadows before. Campbell's Pleasures of Hope, Although my heart in earlier youth Might kindle with more warm desire, Believe me, I have gain'd in truth Much more than I have lost in fire. What was but passion's sigh before, Has since been turn'd to reason's vow, And tho' I then might love thee more, Yet oh ! I love thee better now ! Moore. — I left him in a green old age, And looking like the oak, worn, but still steady Amidst the elements, whilst younger trees Fell fast around him. Byron's Werner, Tho' time has touch'd her too, she still retains Much beauty and more majesty. Byron. A blighted trunk upon a cursed root, Which but supplies a feeling to decay. Byron's Manfred, Now then the ills of age, its pains, its care, The drooping spirit for its fate prepare ; 32 AMBITION - EMULATION - GLORY. And each affection failing, leaves the heart Loosed from life's charm, and willing to depart. An old, old man, with beard as white as snow. Crabbe Spenser. The eye dims, and the heart gets old and slow ; The lithe limb stiffens, and the sun-hued locks Thin themselves off, or whitely wither. Bailey's Festus. Why grieve that Time has brought so soon The sober age of manhood on ? As idly should I weep at noon To see the blush of morning gone. W. C. Bryant. The visions of my youth are past, Too bright, too beautiful to last. W. C. Bryant. Fled are the charms that graced that ivory brow ; Where smiled a dimple, gapes a wrinkle now. Robert Treat Paine. AMBITION — EMULATION — GLORY. Why then doth flesh, a bubble-glass of breath, Hunt after honour and advancement vain, And rear a trophy for devouring death, With so great labour and long-lasting pain — As if life's days for ever should remain ? Spenser's Ruins of Time, Vaulting ambition overleaps itself. SjIAKSPEARE. Seeking the bubble Reputation Even in the cannon's mouth. Shakspeare. AMBITIOJS - EMULATION GLORY. 33 'Tis like a circle in the water, Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself, Till, by wide spreading, it disperse to nought. Shakspeare. Who trod the waj T s of glory, And sounded all the depths and shoals of fame. Shakspeare. The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Await alike th' inevitable hour, The path of glory leads but to the grave ! Gray's Elegy. What various wants on power attend ! Ambition never gains its end. Who hath not heard the rich complain Of surfeit and corporeal pain? And, barr'd from every use of wealth, Envy the ploughman's strength and health ? Gay's Fables. Who never felt the impatient throb, The longing of a heart that pants And reaches after distant good ? COWPER. The fiery soul abhorr'd in Catiline, In Decius charms, in Curtius is divine : The same ambition can destroy or save, And make a patriot, as it makes a knave. Pope's Essay on Man. Oh sons of earth ! attempt ye still to rise By mountains piled on mountains to the skies ? Heaven still with laughter the vain toil surveys, And buries madmen in the heaps they raise. Pope's Essay on Man* Thus the fond moth around the taper plays, And sports and nutters near the treacherous blaze ; 34 AMBITION - EMULATION - GLORY . Ravish'd with joy, he wings his eager flight, Nor dreams of ruin in so clear a light : He tempts his fate, and courts a glorious doom, A bright destruction and a shining tomb. TlCKELL. So much the raging thirst for fame exceeds The generous warmth which prompts to worthy deeds, That none confess fair Virtue's genuine power, Or woo her to their breasts without a dower. Gifford's Juvenal. But glory's gloiy ; and if you would find What that is — ask the pig who sees the wind. Byron's Don Juan. Longings sublime and aspirations high. Byron's Don Juan. What millions died, that Coesar might be great ! Campbell. Press on ! for it is godlike to unloose The spirit, and forget yourself in thought ; Bending a pinion for the deeper sky, And, in the very fetters of your flesh, Mating with the pure essences of heaven. * N. P. Willis. V Ambition is the germ, From which all growth of nobleness proceed^ Thomas Dunn English In some, ambition is the chief concern ; For this they languish and for this they burn ; For this they smile, for this alone they sigh ; For this they live, for this would freely die. J. T. Watson. And man, the image of his God, is found, Just for an empty name, an airy sound, Spending the short remainder of his life In brutal conflict, and in deadly strife : — For 't is a strife, disguise it as you may, Keen as the warrior's in the battle day. J. T. Watson. ANCESTRY - NOBILITY - TITLES, &c. 35 ANCESTRY — NOBILITY — TITLES, &c. True is, that whilome that good poet said, That gentle mind by gentle deed is known, For man by nothing is so well bewray' d As by his manners, in which plain is shown Of what degree and what race he is grown. Spenser's Fairy Queen. Titles of honour add not to his worth, Who is an honour to his title. Ford. Man is a name of honour for a king ; Additions take away from each chief thing. A fool indeed has great need of a title ; It teaches men to call him Count and Duke, And to forget his proper name of fool. Ch; Crown. Titles, the servile courtier's lean reward, Sometimes the pay of virtue, but more oft The hire which greatness gives to slaves and sycophants. Howe. With their authors in oblivion sunk Vain titles lie ; the servile badges oft Of mean submission, not the meed of worth. Whoe'er amidst the sons Of reason, valour, liberty, and virtue, Displays distinguish' d merit, is a noble Of nature's own creating. Should vice expect to 'scape rebuke, Because its owner is a duke ? Thomson. Thomson Swift. 36 ANCESTRY -NOBILITY -TITLES, &c. 'T is from high life high characters are drawn ; A saint in crape is twice a saint in lawn ; A judge is just, a chancellor juster still ; A gown-man, learn'd ; a bishop what you will ; Wise, if a minister ; but if a king, More wise, more learn'd, more just, more everything. Pope. Many a Prince is worse, Who, proud of pedigree, is poor of purse. Pope's Moral Essays, How poor are all hereditary honours, Those poor possessions from another's deeds, Unless our own just virtues form our title, And give a sanction to our fond assumptions ! Shirley. Boast not these titles of your ancestors, Brave youths ; they 're their possessions, not your own : When your own virtues equall'd have their names, 'T will be but fair to lean upon their fames, For they are strong supporters ; but, till then The greatest are but growing gentlemen. Superior worth your rank requires ; For that, mankind reveres your sires ; If you degenerate from your race, Their merit heightens your disgrace. He stands for fame on his forefathers' feet, By heraldry proved valiant or discreet ! Ben Jonson. Gay's Fables. Young. E'en to the dullest peasant standing by, Who fasten'd still on him a wandering eye, He seem'd the master spirit of the land. Joanna Baillie. Even to the delicacy of their hands There was resemblance, such as true blood wears. Byron's Don Juan, ANGER- TEMPER -RAGE. 37 " Your ancient house ?" No more : I cannot see The wondrous merits of a pedigree : Nor of a proud display Of smoky ancestors in wax and clay. Gifford's Juvenal. What boots it on the lineal tree to trace, Through many a branch, the founders of our race — Time-honoured chiefs — if, in their right, we give A loose to vice, and like low villains live ? Gifford's Juvenal. Fond man ! though all the honours of your line Bedeck your halls, and round your galleries shine In proud display, yet take this truth from me — Virtue alone is true nobility! Gifford's Juvenal. How shall we call those noble, who disgrace Their lineage, proud of an illustrious race 1 Who seek to shine by borrow'd lights alone, Nor with their fathers' glories blend their own ? Gifford's Juvenal. Whence his name And lineage long, it suits me not to say ; Suffice it that, perchance, they were of fame, And had been glorious in another day. Byron's Childe Harold ANGER — TEMPER — RAGE. Full many mischiefs follow cruel wrath, Abhorred bloodshed, and tumultuous strife, Unmanly murder, and unthrifty scathe, Bitter despite, with rancour's rusty knife, And fretting grief — the enemy of life. Spenser's Fairy Queen. 3S ANGER - TEMPER - RAGE. Madness and anger differ but in this : This is short madness, that long anger is. My rage is not malicious ; like a spark Of fire by steel enforc'd out of a flint, It is no sooner kindled, but extinct. Aleyn. GOFFE. O that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth Then with a passion would I shake the world. Shakspeare. Anger is like A full hot horse, who being allow'd his way, Self-mettle tires him. Shakspeare. Come not oetween the dragon and his wrath. Shakspeare. Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turn'd. Congreve. Those hearts that start at once into a blaze, And open all tneir rage, like summer storms At once discharg'd, grow cool again and calm. C. Johnson. When anger rushes unrestrain'd to action, Like a hot steed it stumbles in its way : The man ot tnougnt strikes deepest, and strikes safest. Savage. Then flasli'd the living lightning from her eyes, And screams of horror rend the vaulted skies ; Not louder shrieks to pitying heaven are cast, When husbands, or when lap-dogs, breathe their last ; Or when rich china vessels, fallen from high, In glittering dust and painted fragments lie. From loveless youth to unrespected age, No passion gratified, except her rage. Pope. Pope. ANGER -TEMPER -RAGE. 39 v And to be wroth with one we love, Doth work like madness in the brain. Coleridge. Of all bad things by which mankind are curs'd, Their own bad tempers surely are the worst. Cumberland's Menander. And her brow clear'd, but not her troubled eye ; The wind was down, but still the sea ran high. Byron's Don Juan. Patience ! — Hence — that word was made For brutes of burden, not for birds of prey ; Preach it to mortals of a dust like thine, — I am not of thine order. Byron's Manfred. All furious as a favour'd child Balk'd of its wish ; or, fiercer still, A woman piqued, who has her will. Byron's Mazeppa. For his was not that blind, capricious rage, A word can kindle and a word assuage ; But the deep working of a soul unmix'd With aught of pity, where its wrath had fix'd. Byron's Lara. His brow was like the deep when tempest-tost. Byron's Vision of Judgment. Foil'd, bleeding, breathless, furious to the last. Byron's Childe Harold. The ocean lash'd to fury loud, Its high waves mingling with the cloud, Is peaceful, sweet serenity To anger's dark and troubled sea. J. "W. Eastburne. At this she bristled up with ire — Her bosom heav'd — her eye glanc'd fire ; The blush that late suffus'd her face, To deeper crimson now gave place ; 40 ANIMAL - BEAST - BRUTE. Those eyes, that late were bright with joy, Glared now like lightning to destroy ; And she with such resentment burn'd As only woman feels when scorn'd. J. T. Watson. ANIMAL — BEAST — BRUTE. But they do want the quick discerning power, Which doth in man the erring sense correct ; Therefore the bee did suck the painted flower, And birds, of grapes the cunning shadow peck'd. Davies' Immortality of the Soul, The subtle dog scours, with sagacious nose, Along the field, and snuffs each breeze that blows ; Against the wind he takes his prudent way, While the strong gale directs him to the prey. Now the warm scent assures the covey near ; He treads with caution, and he pants with fear : Then close to ground in expectation lies, Till in the snare the fluttering covey rise. Gay's Rural Sports. A colt, whose eyeballs flamed with ire, Elate with strength and youthful fire. Gay's Fables. The lion is, beyond dispute, Allow'd the most majestic brute ; His valour and his generous mind Prove him superior of his kind. Had fate a kinder lot assign'd, And form'd me of the lap-dog kind. I then, in higher life employ'd, Had indolence and ease enjoy'd; Gay's Fables. ANIMAL -BEAST -BRUTE. 41 And, like a gentleman caress'd, Had been the lady's favourite guest. Gay's Fables, The wily fox remain'd, A subtle, pilfering foe, prowling around In midnight shades, and wakeful to destroy. Somervile's Chase. Of all the brutes by nature form'd, The artful beaver best can bear the want Of vital air ; yet, 'neath the whelming tide, He lives not long ; but respiration needs At proper intervals. Somervile's Chase, Let cavillers deny That brutes have reason ; sure 'tis something more, 'T is heaven directs, and stratagems inspire Beyond the short extent of human thought. Somervile's Chase. The snappish cur Close at my heel with yelping treble flies. Pope. The hare, timorous of heart, and hard beset By death in various forms, dark snares, and dogs, And more unpitying man. Thomson's Seasons. And, scorning all the taming arts of man, The keen hyena, fellest of the fell. Thomson's Seasons. The lively, shining leopard, speckled o'er With many a spot, the beauty of the waste. Thomson's Seasons. He stands at bay, And puts his last faint refuge in despair ; The big round tears run down his dappled face ; He groans in anguish. Thomson's Seasons 4* 42 ANTIQUARY. The tiger darting fierce, Impetuous on the prey his eye hath doom'd. Thomson's Seasons. The watch-dog's voice, that bay'd the whispering wind. Goldsmith. Both mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound, And curs of low degree. Goldsmith. 'T is sweet to hear the watch-dog's honest bark Bay deep-mouth'd welcome, as we draw near home. Byron's Don Juan. They revel, rest, then fearless, hopeless, die. C. SpRAGUE. The brindled catamount, that lies High in the boughs to catch his prey. W. C. Bryant. ANTIQUARY. They say he sits All day in contemplation of a statue With ne'er a nose ; and dotes on the decays, With greater love than the self-loved Narcissus Did on his beauty. W T hat toil did honest Curio take, What strict inquiries did he make, To get one medal wanting yet, And perfect all his Roman set ! 'T is found ! and oh ! his happy lot ! 'Tis bought, lock'd up, and lies forgot! Shakerly, Prior. APPAREL -DRESS -FASHION. 43 He shows, on holidays, a sacred pin, That touch'd the ruff that touch'd Queen Bess's chin. Young's Love of Fame Rare are the buttons of a Roman's breeches, In antiquarian eyes surpassing riches : Rare is each crack'd, black, rotten, earthen dish, That held of ancient Rome the flesh and fish. Dr. Wolcot's Peter Pindar. APPAREL — DRESS — FASHION. Her snowy breast was bare to ready spoil Of hungry eyes. Spenser's Fairy Queen. Neat, trimly drest, Fresh as a bridegroom, and his chin new-reaped, Show'd like a stubble-land at harvest home. Shakspeare. Drew from the deep Charybdis of his coat What seem'd a handkerchief, and forthwith blew His vocal nose. Shakspeare. Costiy thy habit as thy purse can buy, But not express'd in fancy ; rich, not gaudy ; For the apparel oft proclaims the man. Shakspeare (_The fashion Doth wear out more apparel than the man. ^ Shakspeare. It is the mind that makes the body rich ; And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds, So hnnour peereth in the meanest habit. What ! is the jay more precious than the lark, 44 APPAREL -DRESS -FASHION. Because his feathers are more beautiful ? Or is the adder better than the eel, Because his painted skin contents the eye ? Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear. Shakspeare. Shakspeare Her polish' d limbs Veil'd in a simple robe, their best attire, Beyond the pomp of dress ; for loveliness Needs not the foreign aid of ornament, But is, when unadorn'd, adorn'd the most. Thomson's Seasons, Let firm, well-hammer'd soles protect thy feet, Through freezing snows, and rain, and soaking sleet ; — Should the big last extend the sole too wide, Each stone will wrench th' unwary step aside ; The sudden turn may stretch the swelling vein, Thy cracking joints unhinge, or ankle sprain ; And when too small the modest shoes are worn, You'll judge the seasons by your shooting corn. Gay's Trivia. Nor should it prove thy less important care, To choose a proper coat for winter wear ; Be thine of kersey firm, tho' small the cost ; Then brave, unwet, the rain — unchill'd, the frost. Gay's Trivia. Let beaux their canes with amber tipt produce ; Be theirs for empty show, but thine for use. Imprudent men Heaven's choicest gifts profane ; Thus some beneath their arm support the cane, The dirly point oft checks the careless pace, And muddy spots the clean cravat disgrace. Oh ! may I never such misfortune meet ! May no such vicious persons walk the street ! Gay's Tnvia. ' APPEARANCE. 45 In diamonds, curls, and rich brocades She shines the first of batter'd jades, And flutters in her pride. Say, will the falcon stooping from above, Smit with her varying plumage, spare the dove ? Admires the jay the insect's varying wings ? Or, hears the hawk when Philomela sings ? Be not the first by whom the new is tried, Nor yet the last to lay the old aside. Pope. Pope. Pope. And even while Fashion's brightest arts decoy, The heart, distrusting, asks if this be joy ? Goldsmith's Deserted Village. Beppo ! that beard of thine becomes thee not ; It should be shaved before you 're a day older ! Byron's Beppo. He had that grace, so rare in every clime, Of being, without alloy of fop or beau, A finish'd gentleman, from top to toe. Byron's Don Juan. But, next to dressing for a rout or ball, Undressing is a woe. Byron's Don Juan, APPEARANCE. Trust not the treason of those smiling looks, Until you have their guileful trains well tried, For they are like but unto golden hooks, That from the foolish fish their baits do hide. Spenser's Sonnets. 46 APPEARANCE. Why should the sacred character of virtue Shine on a villain's countenance ? Ye powers ! Why fix'd you not a brand on treason's front, That we might know t' avoid perfidious mortals ? Dennis Mislike me not for my complexion, The shadow'd liv'ry of the bumish'd sun, To whom I am a neighbour, and near bred. Shakspeare. A man may smile and smile, and be a villain. Shakspeare. I All that glitters is not gold, Gilded tombs do worms enfold. / Shakspeare. What ! is the jay more precious than the lark, Because his feathers are more beautiful ! Or is the adder better than the eel, Because his painted skin contents the eye ? Shakspeare. So the blue summit of some mountain height, Wrapt in gay clouds, deludes the distant sight ; But as with gazing eyes we draw more near, Fades the false scene, and the rough rocks appear. Pattison. He has, I know not what, Of greatness in his looks, and of high fate, That almost awes me. Dryden. v The gloomy outside, like a rusty chest, Contains the shining treasure of a soul, Resolv'd and brave. Dryden. Tho' the fair rose with beauteous blush is crown'd, Beneath her fragrant leaves the thorn is found ; The peach, that with inviting crimson blooms, Deep at the heart the cank'ring worm consumes. Gay's Dione. APPEARANCE. 4? Not always actions show the man : we find Who does a kindness is not therefore kind ; Who combats bravely is not therefore brave ; — He dreads a death-bed, like the meanest slave ; Who reasons wisely is not therefore wise — His pride in reasoning, not in acting, lies. Pope's Moral Essays. She speaks, behaves, and acts just as she oughtj But never, never reach'd one generous thought ; Virtue she finds too painful an endeavour, Content to dwell in decencies for ever. Pope's Moral Essays Your thief looks, in the crowd, Exactly like the rest, or rather better ; T is only at the bar, or in the dungeon, That wise men know your felon by his features. Byron's Werner. That this is but the surface of his soul, And that the depth is rich in better things. Byron's Werner. Full many a stoic eye and aspect stern Masks hearts where grief has little left to learn ; And many a withering thought lies hid, not lost, In smiles that least befit, who wears them most. Byron's Corsair. How little do they see what is, who frame Their hasty judgments upon that which seems. SOUTHEY. The deepest ice that ever froze Can only o'er the surface close ; The living stream lies quick below, And flows, and cannot cease to flow. Byron's Parisina. As a beam o'er the face of the water may glow, While the tide runs in darkness and coldness below, 43 APPEARANCE. So the cheek may be ting'd with a warm sunny smile, Tho' the cold heart to ruin runs darkly the while. T. Moore. Appearance may deceive thee — understand, A pure white glove may hide a filthy hand. Within the oyster's shell uncouth The purest pearl may bide : — Trust me, you '11 find a heart of truth Within that rough outside. Mrs. Osgood. Who will believe ? not I, for in deceiving Lies the dear charm of life's delightful dream ; I cannot spare the luxury of believing That all things beautiful are what they seem. FlTZ-GREEN HaLLECK. 'Tis not the fairest form that holds The mildest, purest soul within; 'Tis not the richest plant that folds The sweetest breath of fragrance in. R. Dawes. Angel forms may often hide Spirits to the fiends allied. Mrs. M. St. Leon Loud. Think not, because the eye is bright, And smiles are laughing there, The heart that beats within is light, And free from pain and care. A blush may tinge the darkest cloud Ere Sol's last ray depart, And underneath the sunniest smile May lurk the saddest heart. APPETITE -DINNER -HUNGER, &c. 49 APPETITE — DINNER — HUNGER, &c. Our stomachs Will make what's homely, savoury. He was a man of an unbounded stomach. Shakspeare. Shakspeare. Famine is in thy cheeks, Need and oppression stareth in thine eyes, Upon thy back hangs ragged misery ; The world is not thy friend, nor the world's law. Shakspeare. i Read over this, and after this, — and then To breakfast with what appetite you have. \ ' Shakspeare. They would defy That which they love most tenderly ; Quarrel with minced pies, and disparage Their best and dearest friend, plum-porridge ; Fat pig and goose itself oppose, And blaspheme custard thro' their nose. Butler's Hudibras. He bore A paunch of mighty bulk before, Which still he had a special care To keep well cramm'd with thrifty fare. Butler's Hudibras. For finer or fatter Ne'er ranged in a forest, or smoked in a platterw Goldsmith. Critiqu'd your wine, and analyz'd your meat, Yet on plain pudding deign'd at home to eat. Pope's Moral Essays. The tankards foam ; and the strong table groans Beneath the smoking sirloin, stretch'd immense From side to side, in which, with desperate knife, They deep incisions make. Thomson. 50 APPETITE - DINNER - HUNGER, &c. / Their various cares in one great point combine, The business of their lives — that is, to dine. Young's Lote of Fame. The turnpike road to people's hearts, I find, Lies thro' their mouths, or I mistake mankind. Dr. Wolcot's Peter Pindar. Behold ! his breakfasts shine with reputation ; His dinners are the wonder of the nation ! With these he treats both commoners and quality, Who praise, where'er they go, his hospitality. Dr. Wolcot's Peter Pindar, Dire was the clang of plates, of knife and fork, That merciless fell, like tomahawks, to work ! Dr. Wolcot's Peter Pindar. Famish'd people must be slowly nurst, V And fed by spoonfuls, else they always burst. Byron's Don Juan. Besides, I'm hungry, and just now would take. Like Esau, for my birthright a beef-steak. Byron's Don Juan, And when he look'd upon his watch again, He found how much old Time had been a winner — He also found that he had lost his dinner. Byron's Don Juan. Nothing's more sure at moments to take hold Of the best feelings of mankind, which grow More tender, as we every day behold, Than that all-softening, overpowering knell, The tocsin of the soul — the dinner bell ! Byron's Don Juan. When dinner has oppress' d me, I think it is perhaps the gloomiest hour Which turns up out of the sad twenty-four. Byron's Don Juan. APPLAUSE -POPULARITY. 51 He fell upon whate'er was offer' d — like A priest, a shark, an alderman, or pike. Byron's Don Juan. But man is a carnivorous production, And must have meat, at least one meal a day ; He cannot live, like woodcocks, upon suction, But, like the shark and tiger, must have prey. Byron's Don Juan. — All human history attests That happiness for man — the hungry sinner — Since Eve ate apples, must depend on dinner ! Byron's Don Juan. The big round dumpling rolling from the pot. D. Humphreys. The same stale viands serv'd up o'er and o'er, The stomach nauseate. Wynne's Ovid. APPLAUSE — POPULARITY. Cries out upon abuses, seems to weep Over his country's wrongs, and, by his face, This seeming brow of justice, did he win The hearts of all that he did angle for. Shakspeare. O, he sits high in all the people's hearts ; And that, which would appear offence in us, His countenance, like richest alchymy, Will change to virtue, and to worthiness. Shakspeare breath of public praise, Short-liv'd and vain ! oft gain'd without desert, As often lost, unmerited ! Havard. 52 APPLAUSE -POPULARITY. Who most to shun or hate mankind pretend, Seek an admirer, or would fix a friend : Abstract what others feel, what others think, All pleasures sicken, and all glories sink. Pope's Essay on Man. He spoke, and bow'd ; with muttering jaws The wondering circle grinn'd applause. Gay's Fables. The noisy praise Of giddy crowds is changeable as winds ; Still vehement, and still without a cause ; Servant to change, and blowing in the tide Of swoln success ; but veering with the ebb, It leaves the channel dry. Dryden. Some shout him, and some hang upon his ear, To gaze in 's eyes and bless him. Maidens wave Their 'kerchiefs, and old women weep for joy ; While others, not so satisfied, unhorse The gilded equipage, and, turning loose , His steeds, usurp a place they well deserve. Cowper's Task. Oh popular applause ! what heart of man Is proof against thy sweet, seducing charms ? Cowper's Task. In murmur'd pity, or loud-roar'd applause. Byron's Childe Harold. What if the popular breath should damn the sun In his meridian glory ? — dost thou think His beams would fall less brightly? Dawes' Jlthenicu ARCHITECTURE, &c. - ARGUMENT, &c. 53 ARCHITECTURE — BUILDING. The princely dome, the column and the arch, The sculptur'd marble, and the breathing gold. Akenside. Here the architect Did not with curious skill a pile erect Of carved marble, touch, or porphyry, But built a house for hospitality ; No sumptuous chimney-piece of shining stone Invites the stranger's eye to gaze upon, And coldly entertain his sight ; but clear And cheerful flames cherish and warm him here. Carew. Windows and doors in nameless sculpture drest, With order, symmetry, or taste unblest ; Forms like some bedlam statuary's dream, The craz'd creation of misguided whim. The high embower'd roof, With antique pillars, massy proof, And storied windows richly dight, Casting a dim religious light. Burns. Milton ARGUMENT — SOPHISTRY. But this juggler Would think to chain my judgment, as mine eyes, Obtruding false rules prank'd in reason's garb. Milton's Comus. 5* 54 ARGUMENT - SOPHISTRY. Enjoy thy gay wit and false rhetoric, That hath so well been taught her dazzling fence ; Thou art not fit to hear thyself convinced. Milton's Comus. Reproachful speech, from either side The want of argument supplied ; They rail'd, revil'd — as often ends The contests of disputing friends. Gay's Fables. Dogmatic jargon learnt by heart, Trite sentences, hard terms of art, To vulgar ears seems so profound, They fancy learning in the sound. Gay's Fables. He'd undertake to prove, by force Of argument, a man's no horse ; He 'd prove a buzzard is no fowl, And that a lord may be an owl ; A calf an alderman, a goose a justice, And rooks committee-men and trustees. Butler's Hudibras. A man convinc'd against his will, Is of the same opinion still. Butler's Hudibras. Now with fine phrase, and foppery of tongue, More graceful action, and a smoother tone, The orator of fable and fair face Will steal on your brib'd hearts. In subtle sophistry's laborious forge. False eloquence, like the prismatic glass. Its gaudy colours spreads in every place ; The face of nature we no more survey, All glares alike, without distinction gay : — Young. Young ARGUMENT - SOPHISTRY. 55 But true expression, like th' unchanging sun, Clears and improves whate'er it shines upon ; It gilds all objects, but it alters none. Pofe's Essay on Criticism. Who shall decide when doctors disagree, And soundest casuists doubt, like you and me ? Pope's Moral Essays. Like doctors thus, when much dispute has past, We find our tenets just the same at last. Pope's Moral Essays. But as some muskets do contrive it, As oft to miss the mark they drive at, And, though weli-aim'd at duck or plover, Bear wide, and kick their owners over, — So fared our squire, whose reas'ning toil Would often on himself recoil, And so much injur' d more his side, The stronger arguments he apply'd. Trumbull's M'Fingal. The self-torturing sophist, wild Rousseau, The apostate of affection — he, who threw Enchantment over passion, and from woe Wrung overwhelming eloquence. Byron's Childe Harold. He cast O'er erring deeds and thoughts a heav'nly hue Of words, like sunbeams, dazzling as they pass'd. Byron's Childe Harold. His speech was a fine sample, on the whole, Of rhetoric, which the learn' d call " rigmarole." Byron's Eon Juan With temper calm and mild, And words of soften'd tone, He overthrows his neighbour's cause, And justifies his own. Vicksburg Whig 56 ARTIFICE - CANDOUR. With neat and rounded phrase He tricks the shapeless thought ; Like hope of power, it charms to-day ; To-morrow, it is nought. Vicksburg TVJiig. ARTIFICE — CANDOUR. Make my breast Transparent as pure crystal, that the world, Jealous of me, may see the foulest thought My heart doth hold. Shallow artifice begets suspicion, And, like a cobweb veil, but thinly shades The face of thy design ; alone disguising What should have ne'er been seen. Buckingham. Congreve. Imperfect mischief! Thou, like the adder venomous and deaf, Hast stung the traveller ; and when thou think'st To hide, the rustling leaves and bended grass Confess and point the path which thou hast crept. O, fate of fools ! officious in contriving, In executing, puzzled, lame, and lost. Congreve. You talk to me in parables ; You may have known that I'm no wordy man : Fine speeches are the instruments of knaves, Or fools, that use them when they want good sense. Otway. Honesty Needs no disguise nor ornament; be plain. Otway, ASSASSINATION - MURDER. 57 The brave do never shun the light ; Just are their thoughts, and open are their tempers ; Truly, without disguise, they love or hate ; Still are they found in the fair face of day, And heaven and men are judges of their actions. Rowe. 'T is great, 't is manly to disdain disguise ; It shows our spirit, or it proves our strength. Young's Night Thoughts. A man of sense can artifice disdain, As men of wealth may venture to go plain ; I find the fool when I behold the screen, For 'tis the wise man's interest to be seen. Young's Love of Fame. ASSASSINATION — MURDER. Will all Neptune's ocean wash this blood Clear from my hand ? No, this my hand will rather The multitudinous seas incarnadine, Making this green one, red. SlIAKSPEARE. The great King of kings Hath in the table of his law commanded That thou shalt do no murder ; wilt thou then Spurn at his edict, and fulfil a man's ? The tyrannous and bloody act is done ; The most arch deed of piteous massacre That ever yet this land was guilty of. SHAKSrEARE. Shakspeafe. Though in the trade of war I have slain men, Yet do I hold it very stuff o' the conscience To do no contriv'd murder ; I lack iniquity Sometimes, to do me service. Shakspeare. 58 ASSOCIATES - COMPANY. See — his face is black and full of blood ; His eyeballs further out than when he lived, Staring full ghastly, like a strangled man ; His hair uprear'd ; his nostrils stretch'd with struggling ; His hands abroad display'd, as one that grasp'd And tugg'd for life, and was by strength subdued. Shakspeare Blood, though it sleeps a time, yet never dies ; The gods on murd'rers fix revengeful eyes. Chapman. Murder itself is past all expiation, The greatest crime that nature doth abhor. Is there a crime Beneath the roof of heaven, that stains the soul Of men with more infernal hue, than damn'd Assassination ? GOFFE. Gibber. Cease, triflers ; would you have me feel remorse, Leave me alone — nor cell, nor chain, nor dungeons, Speak to the murderer with the voice of solitude. Maturin's Bertram. Oh ! thou dead And everlasting witness ! whose unsinking Blood darkens earth and heaven ! what thou now art, I know not ; but if thou seest what I am, I think thou wilt forgive him, whom his God Can ne'er forgive, nor his own soul — farewell ! Byron's Cain. ASSOCIATES — COMPANY. Unbidden guests Are often welcomest when they are gone. Shakspeare. ASTONISHMENT - SURPRISE. So lilies in a glass enclose — The glass will seem as white as those. 'Tis hard, where dullness overrules, To keep good sense in crowds of fools ; And we admire the man who saves His honestv in crowds of knaves. Cowley. Dean Swiet. Then must I plunge again into the crowd Where revel calls, and laughter, vainly loud, False to the heart, distorts the hollow cheek, To leave the nagging spirit doubly weak. Byron's Childe Harold. Then as we never met before, and never, It may be, may again encounter, why, I thought to cheer up this Byron. Like the stain'd web, that whitens in the sun, Grow pure by being purely shone upon. Moore's Lalla Bookh. ASTONISHMENT —SURPRISE. With wild surprise, As if to marble struck, devoid of sense, A stupid moment motionless she stood. Thomson's Seasons He stood Pierc'd by severe amazement, hating life, Speechless and fix'd in all the death of woe. Thomson's Seasons. Were his eyes open ? Yes, and his mouth too ; — Surprise has this effect, to make one dumb, Yet leave the gate, which eloquence slips through, As wide as if a long speech were to come. Byron's Don Juan 60 AUTHORS -WRITERS. i A war-horse, at the trumpet's sound, A lion, rous'd by heedless hound, A tyrant wak'd to sudden strife, By graze of ill-directed knife, Starts not to more convulsive life, Than he who heard that vow display'd. Byron's Bride of Jlbydos. AUTHORS — WRITERS. How many great ones may remember'd be, Which in their days most famously did nourish, Of whom no words we hear, no signs now see, But as things wip'd out with a sponge do perish, Because they living cared not to cherish No gentle wits, through pride or covetize, Which might their names for ever memorize ! Spenser's Ruins of Time. He that writes, Or makes a feast, more certainly invites His judges than his friends ; there 's not a guest But will find something wanting, or ill-drest. Sir R. Howard. Much thou hast said, which I know when And where thou stol'st from other men ; Whereby 't is plain thy light and gifts, Are all but plagiary shifts. Butler's Hudibras. Authors are judg'd by strange capricious rules ; The great ones are thought mad, the small ones fools ; Yet sure the best are most severely fated, For iools are only laugh'd at — wits are hated. Pope. AUTUMN- SPRING - WINTER. &c. 63 Some write, confin'd by physic ; some, by debt; Some, for 'tis Sunday; some, because 'tis wet; Another writes because his father writ, And proves himself a bastard by his wit. None but an author knows an author's cares, Or Fancy's fondness for the child she bears. Our doctor thus, with stuff'd sufficiency Of all omnigenous omnisciency, Began (as who would not begin, That had like him so much within?) To let it out in books of all sorts, Folios, quartos, large and small sorts. "¥0UXG. CoWPER. MoORE. One hates an author that 's all author, fellows In foolscap uniform turn'd up with ink ; So very anxious, clever, fine and jealous, One don't know what to say to them, or think, Unless to puff them with a pair of bellows ; Of coxcombry's worst coxcombs, e'en the pink Are preferable to these shreds of paper, These unquench'd snuffings of the midnight taper. Byron's Beppo AUTUMN — SPRING — WINTER, &c. Perceivest thou not the process of the year, How the four seasons in four forms appear ? Like human life in every shape they wear : Spring first, like infancy, shoots out her head, With milky juice requiring to be fed Proceeding onward, whence the year began, The summer grows adult, and ripens into man. 62 AUTUMN -SPRING -WINTER, &c. Autumn succeeds, a sober, tepid age, Nor froze with fear, nor boiling into rage ; Last, winter creeps along with tardy pace, Sour is his front, and furrow'd is his face. Dryden's Ovid, See, winter comes, to rule the varied year, Sullen and sad, with all his rising train ; ! Vapours, and clouds, and storms. Thomson's Seasoiis, As yet the trembling year is unconfin'd, And winter oft at eve resumes the breeze, Chills the pale morn, and bids his driving sleets Deform the day delightless. Thomson's Seasons, But see, the fading many-colour'd woods, Shade deep'ning over shade, the country round Embrown. Thomson's Seasons, From bright'ning fields of ether, fair disclos'd, Child of the sun, refulgent Summer comes ; In pride of youth, and felt thro' nature's depth, He comes, attended by the sultry hours, And ever-fanning breezes on his way. Thomson's Seasons, winter ! ruler of the inverted year, .... 1 love thee, all unlovely as thou seem'st, And dreaded as thou art. Cowper's Task. Where smiling Spring its earliest visit paid, And parting Summer ling'ring blooms delay'd. Goldsmith's Deserted Village. And winter, lingering, chills the lap of spring. Goldsmith's Traveller. Fain would my muse the flowing treasure sing, And humble glories of the youthful spring. PorE. / AUTUMN -SPRING -WINTER, &c. 63 Where summer's beauty 'midst of winter stays And winter's coolness, spite of summer's rays. Pope. Eternal Spring, with smiling verdure, here Warms the mild air, and crowns the youthful year. Garth. But mighty nature bounds as from her birth. The sun is in the heavens, and life on earth ; Flowers in the valley, splendour in the beam, Health in the gale, and freshness in the stream. Byron's Lara. The merry May hath pleasant hours, and dreamily they glide, As if they floated, like the leaves, upon a silver tide ; The trees are full of crimson buds, the woods are full of birds, And the waters flow to music, like a tune with pleasant words. The keen north-west, that heaps the drifted snow. David Humphreys. The sultry summer past, September comes, Soft twilight of the slow declining year, More sober than the buxom, blooming May, And therefore less the favourite of the world ; But dearest month of all to pensive minds. Carlos Wilcox. And the meridian sun, Most sweetly smiling with attemper'd beams, Sheds gently down a mild and grateful warmth. Carlos Wilcox The melancholy days are o'er, The saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods, And meadows brown and sear. W. C. Bryant. 64 AUTUMN - SPRING - WINTER, &c. The dead leaves strew the forest walk, And wither'd are the pale wild flowers; The frost hangs black'ning on the stalk, The dew-drops fall in frozen showers. J. Brainard. The world leads round the seasons in a choir, For ever changing, and for ever new, Blending the grand, the beautiful, the gay, The mournful and the tender, in one strain. J. G. Percival. The gentle gales of Spring went by, And fruits and flowers of summer die ; The autumn winds swept o'er the hill, And winter's breath came cold and chill. Goodrich. What scenes of delight, what sweet visions she brings Of freshness, of gladness and mirth — Of fair sunny glades where the buttercup springs, Of cool, gushing fountains, of rose-tinted wings, Of birds, bees and blossoms, all beautiful things, Whose brightness rejoices the earth ! Mrs. A. B. Welby. The bleak wind whistles —snow-showers, far and near, Drift without echc to the whitening ground ; Autumn hath past away, and, cold and drear, Winter stalks in, with frozen mantle bound. Mrs. Norton. Hark ! through the dim woods dying With a moan, Faintly the winds are sighing; — Summer 's gone ! Mrs. Norton First budding Spring appears, next Summer's heat, Then Autumn's fruits, then Winter's cold and sleet. J. T. Watson. AVARICE - BRIBERY- MISER. 65 Then rugged Winter his appearance makes, CJoth'd in his cheerless robes of snow and frost, And vegetation ail the land forsakes, And flowers decay, and all Spring's fruits are lost. J. T. Watson. AVARICE — BRIBERY — MISER. Shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes ? And sell the mighty space of our large honours, For so much trash as may be grasped thus ? I 'd rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman. Shakspeare The miser lives alone, abhorr'd by all, Like a disease, yet cannot so be 'scaped, But, canker-like, eats through the poor men's hearts That live about him ; never has commerce With any, but to ruin them. May. Of Age's avarice I cannot see What colour, ground, or reason there can be ; Is it not folly, when the way we ride Is short, for a long voyage to provide ? To avarice some title Youth may own, To reap in autumn what a spring had sown ; And, with the providence of bees or ants, Prevent with summer's plenty winter's wants. But Age scarce sows, ere death stands by to reap, And to a stranger's hand transfer the heap. Denham Who thinketh to buy villany with gold, Shall ever find such faith so bought — so sold. 6 * Marston. .J 66 AVARICE - BRIBERY - MISER. But the base miser starves amidst his store, Broods o'er his gold, and griping still at more, Sits sadly pining, and believes he 's poor. Dryden The lust of gold, unfeeling and remorseless — The last corruption of degenerate man. Dr. Johnson's Irene 'Tis strange the miser should his care employ- To gain those riches he can ne'er enjoy. Pope's Moral Essays. Their crimes on gold shall misers lay Who 've pawn'd their sordid souls away ? Let bravoes, then, whose blood is spilt, Upbraid the passive sword with guilt. Gay's Fables. Oh cursed lust of gold ! when for thy sake The fool throws up his interest in both worlds ; First starv'd in this, then damn'd in that to come. Blair's Grave. Who, lord of millions, trembles for his store, And fears to give a farthing to the poor ; Proclaims that penury will be his fate, And, scowling, looks on charity with hate. Dr. Wolcot's Peter Pindar. The love of gold, that meanest rage, And latest folly of man's sinking age, Which, rarely venturing in the van of life, While nobler passions wage their heated strife, Comes skulking last, with selfishness and fear, And dies collecting lumber in the rear. Moore. Oh gold ! why call we misers miserable ? Theirs is the pleasure that can never pall ; Theirs is the best bower-anchor, the chain cable, Which holds fast other pleasures great and small. Byron's Don Juan. 5 BALL - DAXCIXG, &c. 67 Sound him with gold ; 'Twill sink .into his venal soul like lead Into the deep, and bring up slime, and iiiui And ooze too, from the bottom, as the lead doth With its greased understratum. Byron. A thirst for gold, The beggar's vice, which can but overwhelm The meanest soul. Byron's Vision of Judgment. Who loves no music but the dollar's clink. Sprague's Curiosity. The kindly throbs that other men control, Ne'er melt the iron of the miser's soul ; Thro' life's dark road his sordid way he wends, An incarnation of fat dividends. Sprague's Curiosity. And he, across whose brain scarce dares to creep Aught but thrift's parent pair — to get — to keep. Sprague's Curiosity. Mammon's close-link' d bonds have bound him, Self-imposed, and seldom burst ; Though heaven's waters gush'd around him, He would pine with earth's poor thirst. Mrs. S. J. Hale. BALL — DANCING. &c. Come and trip it as you you On the liffht fantastic toe. Milton- Methought it was the sound Of riot and ill-managed merriment, Such as the jocund flute or gamesome pipe Stirs up among the loose unletter'd hinds. Milton's Comus, BALL - DANCING, &c. Yet is there one, the most delightful kind, A lofty jumping and a leaping round, When arm in arm the dancers are entwined, And whirl themselves with strict embracements round. Davie s. Alike all ages ; dames of ancient days Have led their children through the mirthful maze ; And the gay grandsire, skill' d in gestic lore, Has frisk' d beneath the burden of threescore. Goldsmith's Travellej . A thousand hearts beat happily ; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes look'd love to eyes that spoke again, And all went merry as a marriage bell. Byron's Childe Harold. On with the dance ! let joy be unconfined ! No sleep till morn, when youth and pleasure meet, To chase the glowing hours with flying feet. Byron's Childe Harold. The long carousal shakes th' illumined hall ; Well speeds alike the banquet and the ball : And the gay dance of bounding beauty's train Links grace and harmony in happiest chain. Blest are the early hearts and gentle hands, That mingle theirs in well-according bands ; It is a sight the careful brow might smooth, And make age smile, and dream itself to youth, And youth forget such hours were past on earth, — So springs th' exulting bosom to that mirth. Byron's Lara, The music, and the banquet, and the wine, — The garlands, the rose-odours, and the flowers, — The sparkling eyes, and flashing ornaments — The white arms, and the raven hair — the braids And bracelets — swan-like bosoms — the thin robes, BALL-DANO\\ T G, &c. 69 Floating like light clouds 'twixt our gaze and heaven — The many twinkling feet, so small and sylph-like, Suggesting the more secret symmetry Of the fair forms which terminate so well. Byron's Marino Faliero. When gas and beauty's blended rays Set hearts and ball-rooms in a blaze ; Or spermaceti's light reveals More "inward bruises" than it heals; In flames each belle her victim kills, And " sparks fly upward" in quadrilles. Hon. Nicii. Biddle's Ode to Bogle. Such grace and such beauty ! dear creature ! you'd swear T When her delicate feet in the dance twinkled round, That her steps are of light — that her home is the air, And she only par complaisance touches the ground ! Moore. And turn from gentle Juliet's woe, To count the twirls of Fanny Ellsler's toe. Spracue's Curiosity. The bright and youthful dancers meet, With laughing lips and winged feet ; And golden locks come flashing by, Like sudden sunshine thro' the sky. Mrs. C. H. W. Esling's Broken Bracelet. And fairy forms, now here, now there, Hover'd like children of the air. Mrs. C. H. W. Esling's Broken Bracelet. Of all that did chance, 't were a long tale to tell, Of the dancers and dresses, and who was the belle ; But each was so happy, and all were so fair, That night stole away, and the dawn caught them there. S. G. Goodrich 70 BANISHMENT - EXILE. BANISHMENT — EXILE. Banish'd ! — the damned use that word in hell ; Howlings attend it ; how, hast thou the heart To mangle me with that word — banishment 1 Shakspeare. Some natural tears they dropt, but wip'd them soon : The world was all before them, where to choose Their place of rest, and Providence their guide. They hand in hand, with wand'ring steps and slow, Through Eden took their solitary way. Milton's Paradise Lost, When I think of my own native land, In a moment 1 seem to be there ; But alas ! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair. COWPER. Ah me ! how oft will fancy's spells, in slumber, Recall my native country to my mind ; How oft regret will bid me sadly number Each lost delight, and dear friend left behind ! Mat. G. Lewis. Dreams of the land where all my wishes centre, Those scenes which I am doom'd no more to know. Full oft shall memory trace — my soul's tormentor — And turn each pleasure past to present woe. Mat. G. Lewis. I depart, Whither I know not ; but the hour's gone ' When Albion's lessening shores could grieve or glad mine eye. Byron's Child e Harold. Then fare thee well, my country, lov'd and lost ! Too early lost, alas ! when once so dear ; BANNER -FLAG. 71 1 turn in sorrow from thy glorious coast, And urge the feet forbid to linger here. Farewell ! my more than fatherland ! Home of my heart and friends, adieu ! Ling'ring beside some foreign strand, How oft shall I remember you ! E. D. Griffin. R. H. Wilde. BANNER — FLAG. Who, forthwith, from the glitt'ring staff unfurl'd Th' imperial ensign, which, full high advanc'd, Shone like a meteor streaming to the wind. Milton's Paradise Lost. 'T is the Star-Spangled Banner — Oh, long may it wave O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave ! F. Key. As long as patriot valour's arm Shall win the battle's prize, That star shall beam triumphantly. That Eagle seek the skies ! J. R. Drake. Flag of the free heart's only home, By angel hands to valour given, Thy stars have lit the welkin dome, And all thy hues were born in heaven ! For ever float that standard sheet! Where breathes the foe but falls before us, With Freedom's soil beneath our feet, And Freedom's banner streaming; o'er us ! J. R. Drake. 72 BASHFULNESS- BLUSH -MODESTY. BASHFULNESS- FLUSH —MODESTY. Unto the ground she cast her modest eye, And, ever and anon, with rosy red, The bashful blush her snowy cheeks did dye. Spenser's Fairy fyueen. Maidens in modesty say No, to that Which they would have the profferers construe, Aye." Shakspeare Confusion thriJFd me then, and secret joy, Fast throbbing, stole its treasures from my heart, And, mantling upward, turn'd my face to crimson. Brooke. From every blush that kindles in thy cheeks, Ten thousand little loves and graces spring, To revel in the roses Rowe's Tamerlane, As lamps burn silent with unconscious light, So modest ease in beauty shines most bright ; Unaiming charms with rays resistless fall, And she, who means no mischief, does it all. Aaron Hill. He saw her charming, but he saw not half The charms her downcast modesty conceal'd. Thomson's Seasons. Do good by stealth, and blush to find it fame. Pope. A crimson blush her beauteous face o'erspread, Varying her cheeks, by turn, with white and red ; The driving colours, never at a stay, Run here and there, and flush, and fade away. Parnell. The modest matron, and the blushing maid. Goldsmith's Traveller. B ASHFULXESS - BLUSH - MODESTY. 73 The bashful virgin's sidelong look of love. That modest grace subdu'd my souJ, That chastity of look which seems to hang, A veil of purest light, o'er all her beauties, And by forbidding most inflames desire. I pity bashful men, who feel the pain Of fancied scorn, and undeserv'd disdain, And bear the marks upon a blushing face, Of needless shame, and self-impos'd disgrace. True modesty is a discerning grace, And only blushes in the proper place ; But counterfeit is blind, and skulks thro' fear, Where 'tis a shame to be asham'd t' appear. Playful blushes, that seem'd nought But luminous escapes of thought. I know a cheek whose blushes, As they trembling come and go, I could gaze upon for ever, If it did not pain thee so. Goldsmith. Young. Cowper. Cowper. T. Moore. Mrs. Osgood. And so the blush is form'd, and flies, Nor owns reflection's calm control, It comes, it deepens — fades, and dies, A gush of feeling from the soul. Modesty's the charm That coldest hearts can quickest warm ; Which all our best affections gains, And, gamins:, ever still retains. Mrs. Dinnies, J. K. Paulding. 74 BATTLE - FIGHTING - WAR. BATTLE — FIGHTING — WAR. So brave returning, with his brandish'd blade, He to the carle himself again addrest, And struck at him so sternly that he made An open passage through his riven breast, And half the steel behind his back did rest. Spenser's Fairy Queen, It was a pity — so it w T as, That villanous saltpetre should be digg'd Out of the bowels of the harmless earth, Which many a good brave fellow has destroy'd. Shakspeare. Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war. Shakspeare, In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility ; But when the blast of war blows in his ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger. Shakspeare. Now one 's the better — then the other best, Both tugging to be victor, breast to breast ; Yet neither conqueror or is conquered, So is the equal poise of this fell war. With many a stiff thwack, many a bang, Hard crabiree and old iron rang; While none who saw them could divine To which side conquest would incline. Butler's Hudibras. Ah me ! what perils do environ The man that meddles with cold iron ! For tho' Dame Fortune seem to smile, And «eer upon him for a while, Shakspeare. BATTLE -FIGHTING- WAR. 75 She'll after show him, in the nick Of all his glories, a dog-trick. Butler's Hudibras. Death Grinn'd horribly a ghastly smile, to hear His famine should be fiil'd, and bless'd his maw, Destined to that good hour. Milton's Paradise Lost. Those who in quarrels interpose, Must often wipe a bloody nose. Gay's Fables. The broomstick o'er her head she waves ; She sweats, she stamps, she puffs, she raves ; — The sneaking cur before her flies ; She whistles, calls — fair speech she tries. These nought avail. Her choler burns ; The fist and cudgel threat by turns ; With hasty stride she presses near ; He slinks aloof, and howls with fear. Gay's Fables. He drew the sword, but knew its rage to charm, And loved peace beat when he was forc'd to arm ; Unmov'd with all the glittering pomp of power, He took with joy, but laid it down with more. Rowe's Lucan. Nations with nations mixt confus'dly die, And lost in one promiscuous carnage he. Addison. Me glory summons to the martial scene ; The field of combat is the sphere for men. Wheie heroes war, the foremost place I claim, The first in danger, and the first in fame. Pope's Homer. Rash, fruitless war, from wanton glory wag'd, Is only splendid murder. Thomson 76 BATTLE - FIGHTING - WAR. Is death more cruel from a private dagger Than in the field, from murdering swords of thousands ? Or does the number slain make slaughter glorious ? ClBBER. War is of use to human kind ; For ever and anon, when you have pass'd A few dull years in peace and propagation, The world is overstock' d with fools, and wants A pestilence at least, if not a hero. Then shook the hills with thunder riven, Then rush'd the steeds to battle driven, And, louder than the bolts of heaven, Far flash'd the red artillery. ! Jeffery. Campbell. Their clamours rend the hills around, And earth re-bellows with the sound ; And many a groan increased the din From broken nose and battered shin. Trumbull's McFingal. And cover'd o'er with knobs and pains Each void receptacle for brains. Trumbull's McFingal. One murder marks the assassin's odious name, But millions damn the hero into fame. R. T. Paine. And, where the hottest fire was seen and heard, And the loud cannon peal'd its hoarsest strains. Byron's Don Juan. All that the mind would shrink from of excesses, All that the body perpetrates of bad, All that we read, hear, dream, of man's distresses, All that the devil would do, if run stark mad — Was here let loose. Byron's Don Juan. BATTLE - FIGHTING - WAR. 77 I own my natural weakness : I have not • Yet learn'd to think of indiscriminate murder Without some sense of shuddering. Byron's Marino Faliero. They form — unite — charge — waver — all is lost ! Byron's Corsair. The death-shot hissing from afar, The shock, the shout, the groan of war. Byron's Giaour. Theirs the strife, That neither spares nor speaks for life. Byron's Giaour. But when all is past, it is humbling to tread O'er the weltering field of the tombless dead, And see worms of the earth and fowls of the air, And beasts of the forest, all gathering there ; All regarding man as their prey, All rejoicing in his decay. Byron's Siege of Corinth. The field of freedom, faction, fame, and blood. Byron's Childe Harold. And torrents, swoln to rivers with their gore. Byron's Childe Harold. 'T was blow for blow, disputing inch by inch, For one would not retreat, nor t' other flinch. Byron's Don Juan. And slaughter heap'd on high its weltering ranks. Byron's Childe Harold. Battle's magnificently stern array. Byron's Childe Harola, In vain he did whate'er a chief may do, To check the headlong fury of that crew ; In vain their stubborn ardour he would tame — The hand that kindles cannot quench the flame. Byron's Lara. 7* 1 ! 78 BATTLE - FIGHTING - WAR. Not in the conflict havoc seeks delight — His day of mercy is the day of fight ; But when the field is fought, the hattle won, Tho' drench'd with gore, his woes are but begun. Byron's Curse of Minerva. Waved her dread pinion to the breeze of morn, Peal'd her loud drum, and twang' d her trumpet horn. Campbell. From rank to rank their vollied thunder flew. Campbell. Death spoke in every booming shot that knell'd upon the ear SPRAGUE. And when the cannon-mouthings loud Heave in wide wreaths the battle shroud, And gory sabres rise and fall, Like sheets of flame in midnight pall. J. R. Drake. Hark ! the muffled drum sounds the last march of the brave ! The soldier retreats to his quarters, the grave, Under Death, whom he owns his commander-in-chief; — No more he '11 turn out with the ready relief. H. CUMMINGS. Now lies he low — no more to hear The victor's shout or clashing steel; No more of war's rude cares to bear, No more kind sympathy to feel. No more he charges with the host, The thickest of the battle-field ; No more to join in victory's boast, No more to see the vanquished yield. Richmond Republican. The bursting shell, the gateway wrench'd asunder, The rattling musketry, the clashing blade ; And ever and anon, in tones of thunder, The diapason of the cannonade. Lono fellow $L BEAST -BEAUTY. 79 BEAST. — (See Animal). BEAUTY. The glass of fashion, and the mould of form, The observ'd of all observers. Beauty 's a doubtful good, a glass, a flower, Lost, faded, broken, dead within an hour ; And beauty, blemish'd once, for ever 's lost, In spite of physic, painting, pain, and cost. All orators are dumb when beauty pleadeth. Shakspeare. Shakspeare. Shakspeare. Beaut) 7- is nature's brag, and must be shown In courts, and feasts, and high solemnities, Where most may wonder at the workmanship. It is for homely features to keep home ; They had their name thence ; coarse complexions, And cheeks of sorry grain, will serve to ply The sampler, and to tease the housewife's wool. What need a vermeil-tinctur'd lip for that, Love-darting eyes, and tresses like the morn ? — There was another meaning in those gifts. Milton's Comas. Virtue can brook the thoughts of age That lasts the same through every stage, Though you by time must suffer more Than ever woman lost before ! Gay's Fables. 'Tis not a lip or eye we beauty call, But the full force and joint effect of all. Pope's Essay on Criticism 80 BEAUTY. If to her share some female errors fall, Look to her face, and you '11 forget them alL Belinda smiled, and all the world was gay. I long not for the cherries on the tree, So much as those which on a lip I see ; And more affection bear I to the rose, That in a cheek, than in a garden grows. POFE. Pope. Randolph. Grace was in her steps, heaven in her eyes, In every gesture dignity and love. Milton's Paradise Lost, Her eyes, her lips, her cheeks, her shape, her features, Seem to be drawn by Love's own hand. Dryden. 'Tis not a set of features or complexion, The tincture of a skin, that I admire ; Beauty soon grows familiar to the lover, Fades in his eye, and palls upon the sense. Addison's Cato. And those who paint them truest, praise them most. Addison. All that painting can express, Or youthful poets fancy when they love. Rowe's Fair Penitent, What's female beauty but an air divine, Through which the mind's all gentle graces shine ? They, like the sun, irradiate all between ; The body charms, because the soul is seen. Young. Beauty ! thou pretty plaything ! dear deceit ; That steals so gently o'er the stripling's heart, And gives it a new pulse unknown before ! Blair's Grave, I BEAUTY. 81 No fantastic robe, That e'er caprice invented, custom wore, Or folly smiled on, could eclipse thy charms. Shenstone. To make the cunning artless, tame the rude, Subdue the haughty, shake the undaunted soul : — These are the triumphs of all-powerful beauty. Joanna Baillie. But then her face, So lovely, yet so arch, so full of mirth, The overflowing of an innocent heart. Rogers' Italy. There was a soft and pensive grace, A cast of thought upon her face, That suited well the forehead high, The eyelash dark, and downcast eye ; The mild expression spoke a mind In duty firm, compos'd, resign'd. Scott's Rokeby. For faultless was her form as beauty's queen, And every winning grace that love demands, With mild attemper'd dignity was seen Play o'er each lovely limb, and deck her angel mien. Mrs. Tigh's Psyche. She was a form of life and light, That, seen, became a part of sight ; And rose where'er I turn'd my eye, The morning star of memory. Byron's Giaour. So coldly sweet, so deadly fair, We start, for soul is wanting there. Hers is the loveliness in death, That parts not quite with parting breath — But beauty with that fearful bloom, That hue, which haunts it to the tomb. Byron's Giaour. 82 BEAUTY. Fair as the first that fell of womankind. Byron's Giaour, So bright the tear in beauty's eye, Love half regrets to kiss it dry ; So sweet the blush of bashfulness, Even pity scarce can wish it less. Byron's Bride of Abydos. Who hath not prov'd how feebly words essay To fix one spark of beauty's heavenly ray 1 Who doth not feel, until his failing sight Faints into dimness with its own delight, His changing cheek, his sinking heart confess The might, the majesty of loveliness ? Byron's Bride of Abydos. Such around her shone The nameless charms unmark'd by her alone : The light of love, the purity of grace, The mind, the music breathing from her face, The heart whose softness harmoniz'd the whole, And, Oh ! that eye was in itself a soul ! Byron's Bride of Abydos. Heart on her lip, and soul within her eyes, Soft as her clime, and sunny as her skies. Byron's Beppo. Who can curiously behold The smoothness and the sheen of beauty's cheek, Nor feel the heart can never all grow cold ? Byron's Childe Harold. And form'd for all the witching arts of love. Byron's Childe Harold. Whose large blue eyes, fair locks, and snowy hands, Would shake the saintship of an anchorite. Byron's Childe Harold. The bee from that lip more nectar could sip Than from all the sweet buds in the bower. / BEAUTY. 83 Oh, fresh is the rose in the gay dewy morning, And sweet is the Jily at evening close : But in the fair presence of lovely young Jessie, Unseen is the lily, unheeded the rose. BrRxs. Without the smile, from partial beauty won, Oh, what were man ? — a world without a sun ! Campbell. Who hath not paus'd while beauty's pensive eye Ask'd from his heart the tribute of a sigh ? Who hath not own'd, with rapture-smitten frame, The power of grace — the magic of a name ? Campbell. 'T were easier far to paint the hues of heaven, When Morn, resplendent with new glory, wakes, Or steal the varying tints by sunset given To the gold-crested wave, the while it breaks, Than to embody the harmonious grace That, ever-changing, flitted o'er her face. Dawe's Gerahline. For every block of marble holds a Venus, With nothing but unchisell'd stone between us. Dawe's Gerahline, Thou art beautiful, young lady; But I need not tell you. this, For few have borne, unconsciously, The spell of loveliness. J. G. Whittter. Thou art not beautiful — yet thy young face Makes up in sweetness what it lacks in grace ; Thou art not beautiful — yet thy blue eyes . Steal o'er the soul like sunshine o'er the skies ; — And heaven, that gives to thee each mental grace, Has stamp'd the angel in thy sweet young face. Mrs. A. B. Welby. 84 BEGGAR. I 've gazed on many a brighter face, But ne'er on one, for years, Where beauty left so soft » trace As it had left on hers. Mrs. A. B. Welby. With eyes whose beams might shame a night Of starlight gleams, they were so bright ; And cheeks before whose bloom the rose Its blushing treasure-house might close. Mrs. Esling's Broken Bracelet. Beauty in woman weaves a spell Around poor man's devoted heart, And he must guard the fortress well, Or else he'll feel its piercing dart; But when we see in one combin'd Charms such as do in you exist, And a well-cultivated mind, Her magic power who can resist 1 J. T. Watson. That beauteous dame, whose heavenly charms Kept Troy and Greece ten years in arms. J. T. Watson. He look'd With a rapt gaze of wild delight, For ne'er saw he so fair a sight. J. T. Watson. Plato himself had not survey'd, Unmov'd, such charms as she display'd. J. T. Watson. BEGGAR. He makes a beggar first, that first relieves him ; Not usurers make more beggars where they live, Than charitable men, that use to give. Heywood. BETTING - GAMBLING. 85 Base worldlings, that despise all such as need ; Who to the needy beggar still are dumb, Not knowing unto what themselves may come. Heywood. Beggar? the only free men of our commonwealth; Free above scot-free, that observe no laws, Obey no governor, use no religion, But what they draw from their own ancient custom, Or constitute themselves — yet are no rebels. Brome. Pity the sorrows of a poor old man, Whose trembling limbs have borne him to your door, Whose days are dwindled to the shortest span — Oh, give relief, and Heaven will bless your store ! BETTING — GAMBLING. Would you, when thieves are known abroad, Bring forth your treasure in the road ? W T ould not the fool abet the stealth, Who rashly thus expos* d his wealth ? Yet this you do, whene'er you play Among the gentlemen of prey. In debts of play, Your honour suffers no delay ; And not this year's or next year's rent The sons of rapine can content. Look round, the wrecks of play behold, Estates dismember'd, mortgag'd, sold ! Their owners now to jails conhn'd, Show equal poverty of mind. Gay's Fables. Gay's Fables. Gay's Fables. 86 BIGOTRY. Could fools to keep their own contrive, On what, on whom would gamesters thrive^ ? Whene'er the gaming-board is set, Two classes of mankind are met ; But if we count the greedy race, The knaves fill up the greater space. Gay's Fables. Gay's Fables. If yet thou love game at so dear a rate, Learn this, that hath old gamesters dearly cost : Dost lose ? Rise up ; dost win ? Rise in that state, Who strives to sit out losing hands is lost. Some play for gain ; to pass time, others play For nothing ; both do play the fool, I say ; — Nor time or coin I '11 lose, or idly spend ; Who gets by play, proves loser in the end. Most men, till by experience made sager, Will back their own opinion with a wager. Herbert. Heath. Byron. BIGOTRY. The good old man, too eager in dispute, Flew high ; and, as his Christian fury rose, Damn'd all for heretics, who durst oppose. Dryden. For modes of faith let graceless zealots fight ; He can't be wrong, whose life is in the right. Pope's Essay on Man. Christians have burn'd each other, well persuaded That the apostles would have done as they did. Byron's Don Juan. Shall I ask the brave soldier, who fights by my side In the cause of mankind, if our creeds disagree ? / BIRDS. 87 Shall I give up the friend I have valued and tried, If he kneel not before the same altar with me ? From the heretic girl of my soul shall I fly, To seek somewhere else a more orthodox bliss ? No ! perish the hearts and the laws that would try Truth, valour, or love, by a standard like this. Moore. Mad as Christians used to be About the thirteenth century, There 's lots of Christians to be had In this, the nineteenth, just as bad. Moore. BIRDS Where dwelt the ghostly owl, Shrieking his baleful note, which ever drave Far from their haunt all other cheerful fowl. Spenser's Fairy Queen. When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds, And sails upon the bosom of the air. Shakspeare. Lo ! here the gentle lark, weary of rest, From his moist cabinet mounts up on high, And wakes the morning, from whose silver breast The sun ariseth in his majesty. While the cock, with lively din, Scatters the rear of darkness thin, And to the stack or the barn-door Proudly struts his dames before. The noisy geese that gabbled in the pool. Shakspeare. Milton. Goldsmith. j 38 BIRDS. The heron Upon the bank of some small, purling brook, Observant stands, to take his scaly prey. SoMERVILE. Every songster sings, Tops the high bough, and clasps his glist'ning wings. Dr. D wight. I saw the expectant raven fly, Who scarce could wait till both should die, Ere his repast begun. Byron's Mazeppa, But his flaming eye dims not, his wing is unbow'd ; Still drinks he the sunshine, still scales he the cloud. W. H. Burleigh. And the blue jay flits by, from tree to tree, And, spreading its rich pinions, fills the ear With its shrill sounding and unsteady cry. Isaac M'Lellan. Lone Whippoorwill ; There is much sweetness in thy fitful hymn, Heard in the drowsy watches of the night. Isaac M'Lellan. Here look on the geese, as they nibble the grass — How they stretch out their long necks, and hiss as we pass ! And the fierce little bantam, that flies your attack, Then struts, flaps, and crows, with such airs at your back ; And the turkey-cock, smoothing his plumes in your face, Then ruffling so proud, as you bound from the place ! W. H. Burleigh. The winglets of the fairy humming-bird, Like atoms of the rainbow flitting round. Campbell. The brown vultures of the woods Flock'd to these vast uncover'd sepulchres, And sat, unscar'd and silent, at their feast. W. C. Bryant. EIRDS. Si) The robin warbled forth his full clear note For hours, and wearied not. W. C. Bryant. Bird of the broad and sweeping wing, Thy home is high in heaven, Where wide the storms their banners fling, And tempest-clouds are driven ! J. G. Percival. Ofttimes, tho' seldom seen, The cuckoo, that in summer haunts our groves, Is heard to moan, as if at every breath Panting aloud. Carlos Wilcox. The merry mocking-bird together links, In one continued song, all diff'rent notes, Adding new life and sweetness to them all. Carlos Wilcox. Along the surface of the winding stream, Pursuing every turn, gay swallows skim, Or, round the borders of the spacious lawn, Fly in repeated circles, rising o'er Hillock and fence, with motion serpentine, Easy and light. Carlos Wilcox. The robin to the garden or green yard, Close to the door, repairs to build again Within her wonted tree. Carlos Wilcox. And in mid air the sportive night-hawk, seen Flying awhile at random, uttering oft A cheerful cry, attended with a shake Of level pinions dark, but, when upturn'd Against the brightness of the western sky, The white plume shining in the midst of each, Then far down diving with a hollow sound. Carlos Wilcox. 8* 1 90 BIRDS. The whippoorwill, her name her only song. Carlos Wilcox The yellowhammer by the wayside picks Mutely the thistle seed : but in her flight So smoothly serpentine, her wings outspread To rise a little, clos'd to fall as far. Carlos Wilcox. The flippant blackbird, with light yellow crown, Hangs flutt'ring in the air, and chatters thick Till her breath fails, when, breaking off, she drops On the next tree, and on its highest limb, Or some tall flag, and, gently rocking, sits, Her strain repeating. Carlos Wilcox. With sonorous notes Of every tone, mix'd in confusion sweet, The forest rings. Carlos Wilcox. The bird whose pinion courts the sunbeam's fire. Charles Sprague. Ever, my son, be thou like the dove ; In friendship as faithful, as constant in love. Bishop Doane. A free, wild spirit unto thee is given, Bright minstrel of the blue celestial dome ! For thou wilt wander to yon upper heaven, And bathe thy plumage in the sunbeam's home ; And, soaring upward, from thy dizzy height, On free and fearless wing, be lost to human sight ! Mrs. Amelia Welby. Hark ! how with love and flutt'ring start The skylark soars above, And with her full, melodious heart, She pours her strains of love. / BLACKSMITH - FARMER - PEASANT. 01 Bird of the pure and dewy morn ! How soft thy heavenward lay Floats up where life and light are born, Around the rosy day ! Mrs. Amelia Welby. B I R T H. — (See Ancestry) . BLACKSMITH — FARMER — PEASANT. Here smokes his forge ; he bares his sinewy arm, And early strokes the sounding anvil warm ; Around his shop the steely sparkles flew, As for the steed he shap'd the bending shoe. Gay's Trivia. Oft did the harvest to the sickle yield, Their harrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke ; How jocund did they drive their team a-field, How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke ! Gray's Elegy. He trudg'd along, unknowing what he sought, And whistled as he went, for want of thought. His corn and cattle were his only care, And his supreme delight, a country fair. Dryden. Dryden Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade ; A breath can make them, as a breath hath made ; But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, When once destroy'd, can never be supplied. Goldsmith's Deserted Village. From labour health, from health contentment springs ; Contentment opes the source of e\ ery joy. Beattie's Minstrel 92 BLINDNESS. The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands ; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands. H. W. Longfellow. Week in, week out, from morn till night You can hear his bellows blow ; You can hear him swing his heavy sledge With measur'd beat and slow. H. W. Longfellow. How blest the farmer's simple life ! How pure the joy it yields ! Far from the world's tempestuous strife, Free, 'mid the scented fields ! C. W. Everest. The cobbler 's all depends upon his awl, And sheer 's the merit of the tailor's shears ; The farmers crop their living from their crop, And each man shares the blessings of their shares. Who ever saw the workman wield his saw Or move his plane along the timber's plane, Or with just rule adjust his iron rule, Must fain admit his skill he does not feign. J. T. Watson. BLINDNESS. O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon ; Irrevocably dark ! total eclipse, Without all hope of day. Milton's Samson Agonistes. O, loss of sight, of thee I most complain ! Light, the prime work of God, to me 's extinct, And all ner various objects of delight Annull'd, which might in part my grief have eas'd. Milton's Samson Agonistes. BLUSH- BOASTING. 93 Thus with the year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of ev'n or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine ; But clouds instead, and ever-during dark Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair Presented with an universal blank Of nature's works to me expung'd and ras'd, And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out. Milton's Paradise Lost, Nor to these idle orbs doth sight appear Of sun, or moon, or stars, throughout the year, Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not Against heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot Of heart or hope ; but still bear up and steer Right onward. Milton. Ah ! little know they of the dreamy sadness That shadows o'er my spirit's viewless urn, For they can look out on the free world's gladness, Where blossoms blow, and stars shoot out and burn ; While I must sit, a fair yet darken'd flower, Amid the bright band gathering round our hearth, The only sad thing in our sweet home's bower — Oh ! for one glance upon the fresh green earth ! Mrs. A. B. Welby. BLUSH. — (See Bashfulness.) BOASTING. The honour's overpaid, When ne that did the act is commentator. Shirly, 94 BOOKS - NEWSPAPER - PRESS. For highest looks have not the highest mind, Nor haughty words most full of highest thought ; But are like bladders blown up with the wind, That being prick'd evanish into nought. Spenser's Fairy Queen. Who knows himself a braggart, Let him fear this ; for it will come to pass That ev'ry braggart shall be found an ass. Shakspeare. Here's a large mouth, indeed, That spits forth death, and mountains, rocks, and seas ; Talks as familiarly of roaring lions, As maids of thirteen do of puppy dogs. Shakspeare. What art thou ? Have not I An arm as big as thine ? a heart as bio-? Thy words, I grant, are bigger, for I wear not My dagger in my mouth. Shakspeare. We rise in glory, as we sink in pride ; Where boasting ends, there dignity begins. Young's Night Thoughts, For men, it is reported, dash and vapour Less on the field of battle than on paper ; Thus, in the history of each dire campaign, More carnage leads the newspaper than plain. Dr. Wolcot's Peter Pindar. BOOKS — NEWSPAPER — PRESS. Books are a part of man's prerogative ; In formal ink they thought and voices hold ; That we to them our solitude may give, And make time present travel that of old. Sir Thomas Overbury, BOOKS - NEWSPAPER - PRESS. 95 'T is in books the chief Of all perfections, to be plain and brief. Butler. 'T were well with most, if books, that could engage Their childhood, pleas'd them at a riper age : The man approving what had charm'd the boy, Would die at last in comfort, peace and joy ; And not with curses on his art, who stole The gem of truth from his unguarded soul. "What is it but a map of busy life, Its fluctuations and its vast concerns? Books should to one of these four ends conduce, For wisdom, piety, delight, or use. CoWFER. COWPER. Denham The printed part, tho' far too large, is less Than that which, yet unprinted, waits the press. From the Spanish. The Past but lives in words : a thousand ages Were blank, if books had not evok'd their ghosts, And kept the pale, unbodied shades to warn us From fleshless lips. Bulwer's Cromwell. 'Tis pleasant, sure, to see one's name in print; A book 's a book, altho' there 's nothing in 't. Byron's English Bards and Scotch Reviews. Turn to the press — its teeming sheets survey, Big with the wonders of each passing day ; Births, deaths, and weddings, forgeries, fires and wrecks, Harangues and hailstones, brawls and broken necks. Charles Sprague's Curiosity. 'T was heaven to lounge upon a couch, said Gray, And read new novels through a rainy day. Charles Sprague's Curiosity. 96 BOOKS -NEWSPAPER -PRESS. Trade hardly deems the busy day begun, Till his keen eye along the sheet has run ; The blooming daughter throws her needle by, And reads her schoolmate's marriage with a sigh ; While the grave mother puts her glasses on, And gives a tear to some old crone that 's gone. The preacher, too, his Sunday theme lays down, To know what last new folly fills the town ; Lively or sad, life's meanest, mightiest things, The fate of fighting cocks, or fighting kings. Charles Sprague's Curiosity, See tomes on tomes, of fancy and of power, To cheer man's heaviest, warm his holiest hour. Charles Sprague's Curiosity, Turn back the tide of ages to its head, And hoard the wisdom of the honour'd dead. Charles Sprague's , Curiosity. Newspaper ! who has never felt the pleasure that it brings ? It always tells us of so many strange and wondrous things ! It makes us weep at tales of wo — it fills our hearts with mirth — It tells us of the price of stock — how much produce is worth — And when, and where, and how, and why, strange things occur on earth. Has war's loud clarion call'd to arms ? — has lightning struck a tree ? — Has Jenkins broke his leg ? — or has there been a storm at sea? — Has the sea-serpent shown his head ? — a comet's tail been seen? Or has some heiress with her groom run ofT to Gretna Green ?— All this, and many wonders more, you from this sheet may glean. J. T. Watson. BRAVERY - COURAGE - FORTITUDE, 97 BRAVERY — COURAGE — FORTITUDE. In war, was never lion's rage so fierce ; In peace, was never gentle lamb more mild. In struggling with misfortune lies the proof Of virtue. Pr'ythee, peace : I dare do all that may become a man ; Who dares do more, is none. Shakspeare. Shakspeare. Shakspeare. His valour, shown upon our crests to-day, Hath taught us how to cherish such high deeds, Even in the bosom of our adversary. Shakspeare. But screw your courage to the sticking place, And we '11 not fail. Shakspeare. What though the field be lost? All is not lost ; the ungovernable will, And study of revenge, immortal hate, And courage never to submit or yield, And what is else not to be overcome. Milton's Paradise Lost. Let fortune empty all her quiver on me, I have a soul that, like an ample shield, Can take in all, and verge enough for more. Dryden. For, as we see the eclipsed sun By mortals is more gazed upon, Than when, adorn' d with all his light, He shines in serene sky most bright, So valour, in a low estate, Is more admir'd and wonder'd at. Butler's Hudibras. 9 BRAVERY - COURAGE - FORTITUDE. He that is valiant, and dares fight, Though drubb'd, can lose no honour by 't. Butler's Hudibraa. 'T is not now who 's stout and bold ? But who bears hunger best, and cold ? And he 's approv'd the most deserving, Who longest can hold out at starving. Butler's Hudibras. How sleep the brave, who sink to rest With all their country's honour blest ! Collins. To a mind resolv'd and wise, There is an impotence in misery, Which makes me smile, while all its shafts are in me. Young's Revenge. True fortitude is seen in great exploits That justice warrants, and that wisdom guides ; All else is tow'ring frenzy and distraction. Addison's Cato. The wise and active conquer difficulties, By daring to attempt them ; sloth and folly Shiver and sink at sights of toil and hazard, And make the impossibility they fear. Rowe. The brave man is not he who feels no fear ; For that were stupid and irrational ; But he whose noble soul its fear subdues, And bravely dares the danger nature shrinks from. Joanna. Baillie. Unaw'd by power, and unappall'd by fear. Goldsmith. Let angry ocean to the sky In proud disdain his billows roll; Let thunder to his threats reply — Fear is a stranger to my soul. Cobb. / BRAVERY - COURAGE - FORTITUDE. I What heart in either grim array Throbs to the charge with wilder beat ? What ear so loves the trumpet's bray, That bids contending thousands meet ? Mrs. Holford. Fate made me what I am — may make me nothing, — But either that or nothing must I be ; I will not live degraded. Byron's Sardanapalus. His breast with wounds unnumber'd riven, His back to earth, his face to heaven. Byron's Giaour As bold as Daniel in the lions' den. Byron's Bon Juan. — The truly brave, When they behold the brave oppress'd with odds, Are touch'd with a desire to shield or save. Byron's Don Juan. It must have been A fearful pang that wrung a groan from him. Byron's Two Fnscari. And the repress'd convulsion of the high And princely brow of his old father, which Broke forth in silent shudderings, tho' rarely, Or in some clammy drops, soon wiped away In stern serenity. Byron's Two Foscari. — And the poor wretch mov'd me More by his silence, than a thousand outcries Could have effected. Byron's Two Foscartf His blade is bared ; in him there is an air As deep,, but far too tranquil for despair ; A something of indifference, more than then Becomes the bravest, if they feel for men. Byron's Lara, 1 00 BREVITY - BRIBERY. Commanding, aiding, animating all, Where foe appear'd to press, or friend to fall, Cheers Lara's voice, and waves or strikes his steel, Inspiring hopes, himself had ceas'd to feel. Byron's Lara. And tho' I hope not hence unscath'd to go, Who conquers me, shall find a stubborn foe. Byron's English Bards, $«c. There is a tear for all who die, A mourner o'er the humblest grave ; But Nations swell the funeral cry, And Triumph weeps above the brave. Byron. But each strikes singly, silently, and home, And sinks outwearied, rather than o'ercome ; His last faint quittance rendering with his breath, Till the blade glimmers in the grasp of death ! Byron's Corsair, They fought like brave men, long and well. FlTZGREEN HALLECK. Yet, it may be, more Jofty courage dwells In one weak heart which braves an adverse fate, Than his, whose ardent soul indignant swells, Warm'd by the fight, or cheer'd through high debate. Mrs. Norton's Dream, BREVITY. — (See Conversation.) BRIBERY. — (See Avarice.) BRUTE -BUILDING -CALUMNY, &c. 101 BRUTE. — (See Animal.) BUILDING. — (See Architecture.) CALUMNY — DETRACTION — ENVY — SLANDER, &c. No wound which warlike hand of enemy Inflicts with dint of sword, so sore doth light As doth the poisonous sting which infamy Infixeth in the name of noble wight ; For by no art, nor any leeches' might It ever can recured be again. Spenser's Fairy Queen. Who steals my purse, steals trash ; 't is something, nothing ; 'T was mine, 't is his, and has been slave to thousands : But he, who filches from me my good name, Robs me of that which not enriches him, And makes me poor indeed. Be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow,, Thou shalt not escape calumny. J Shakspeare. Shakspeare. That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect ; For slander's mark was ever yet the fair ; So thou be good, slander doth but approve Thy worth the greater. Shakspeare. Who stabs my name, would stab my person too, Did not the hangman's axe lie in the way. Crown. For envy doth invade Works breathing to eternity, and cast Upon the fairest piece the greatest shade. 9 * Aleyn. L__. 102 CALUMNY - DETRACTION - ENVY - SLANDER, &c. So a wild Tartar, when he spies A man that's valiant, handsome, w r ise, If he can kill him, thinks t' inherit His wit, his beauty, and his spirit; As if just so much he enjoy'd, As in another is destroy'd. Butler's Hudibras, Envy's a sharper spur than pay, And, unprovok'd, 'twill court the fray; No author ever spar'd a brother; Wits are gamecocks to one another. Gay's Fables. Fools may our scorn, not envy, raise, For envy is a kind of praise. Gay's Fables. Who praises Lesbia's eyes and features, Must call her sisters awkward creatures ; For the kind flattery 's sure to charm When we some other nymph disarm. Canst thou discern another's mind ? W T hat is 't you envy ? Envy 's blind. Tell Envy, when she would annoy, That thousands want what you enjoy. Gay's Fables. Gay's Fables. Slander'd in vain, enjoy the spleen of foes ; Let these from envy hate — from interest those ! Guilt, like the first, your gratitude requires, Since none can envy till he first admires ; And nature tells the last his crime is none, Who to your interest but prefers his own. Aaron Hill. Envy will merit, as its shade, pursue ; But, like a shadow, proves the substance true. Pope's Essay on Criticism. Base envy withers at another's joy, And hates that excellence it cannot reach. Thomson's Seasons. I LALUMNY- DETRACTION -ENVY -SLANDER, &c. 103 With that malignant envy, which grows pale And sickens, even if a friend prevail, Which merit and success pursues with hate, And damns the worth it cannot imitate. Churchill For every thing contains within itself The seeds and sources of its own corruption ; The cankering rust corrodes the brightest steel ; The moth frets out your garment, and the worm Eats its slow way into the solid oak : But Envy, of all evil things the worst, The same to-day, to-morrow, and for ever, Saps and consumes the heart in which it works. Cumberland's Menander, Yet even her tyranny had such a grace, The women pardon'd all, except her face. Byron's Don Juan* Curse the tongue Whence slanderous rumour, like the adder's drop, Distils her venom, withering friendship's faith, Turning love's favour. The ignoble mind Loves ever to assail with secret blow The loftier, purer beings of their kind. Hillhouse. W. G. Sddis. As a base pack of yelping hounds, Who wish their betters to annoy, If a stray cur enter their bounds, Will bruise and mangle and destroy; So they will on some plan unite, By which to vex him and to spite : His very virtues they will use As pretexts for their foul abuse. J. T. Watson. 104 CANDOUR -CARE, &c. CANDOUR. — (See Artifice.) CARE — MELANCHOLY — GLOOM. Why should a man, whose blood is warm within, Sit like his grandsire, cut in alabaster ? Shakspeare. Care that is enter'd once into the breast, Will have the whole possession, ere it rest. Ben Jonson. That spoils the dance of youthful blood, Strikes out the dimple from the cheek of mirth, And ev'ry smirking feature from the face, Branding our laughter with the name of madness. Blair's Grave. The spleen with sudden vapour clouds the brain, And binds the spirits in its heavy chain ; Howe'er the cause fantastic may appear, Th' effect is real and the pain sincere. But human bodies are sic fools, For a' their colleges and schools, That, when nae real ills perplex them, They mak enow themsels to vex them. Blackmore. Burns. If thou wilt think of moments gone, Of joys as exquisite as brief, Know, mem'ry, when she lingers on Past pleasure, turns it all to grief. From the Spanish — Bowring. Go, you may call it madness — folly — You shall not chase my gloom away; There's such a charm in melancholy, I would not, if I could, be gay ! Rogers. CARE -MELANCHOLY -GLOOM. 105 Melancholy- Sits on me as a cloud along the sky, Which will not let the sunbeams through, nor yet Descend in rain, and end ; but spreads itself 'Twixt heav'n and earth, like Envy between man And man — and is an everlasting mist. Byron. And if I laugh at any mortal thing, 'T is that I may not weep ; and if I weep, 'T is that our nature cannot always bring Itself to apathy, which we must steep First in the icy depths of- Lethe's spring, Ere what we least wish to behold will sleep. Byron's Don Juan But can the noble mind for ever brood, The willing victim of a weary mood, On heartless cares that squander life away, And cloud young Genius bright'ning into day ? Campbell. 'T was thus in Nature's bloom and solitude, He nurs'd his grief till nothing could assuage ; 'Twas thus his tender spirit was subdued, Till in life's toils it could no more engage. Carlos Wilcox. Come, rouse thee, dearest : 't is not well To let the spirit brood Thus darkly o'er the cares that swell Life's current to a flood. As brooks and torrents, rivers, all Increase the gulf in which they fall, Such thoughts, by gathering up the rills Of lesser griefs, spread real ills ; And with their gloomy shades conceal The landmarks Hope would else reveal. Mrs. Dinnles. 106 CARE - MELANCHOLY - GLOOM. Blame not, if oft, in melancholy mood, This theme too far such fancy hath pursued ; And if the soul, which high with hope should beat, Turns to the gloomy grave's unblest retreat. Robert Sands Oh ! it is hard to put the heart Alone and desolate away — To curl the lip in pride, and part With the kind thoughts of yesterday. N. P. Willis. /Strange that the love-lorn heart will beat With rapture wide amid its folly ; — No grief so soft, no pain so sweet As love's delicious melancholy. 1 Mrs. A. B. Welby. O ! dark is the gloom o'er my young spirit stealing ! Then why should I linger when others are gay ? — The smile that I wear, is but worn for concealing A heart, that is wasting in sadness aw r ay. Mrs. A. B. Welby. Alas, for my weary and care-haunted bosom ! •:, The spells of the spring-time arouse it no more ; The song in the wildwood, the sheen in the blossom, • The fresh-swelling fountain — their magic is o"er ! When I list to the stream, when I look on the flowers, They tell of the Past, with so mournful a tone, That I call up the throngs of my long-vanish' d hours, And sigh that their transports are over and gone. Willis Gaylord Clark. How vain a task, to wake my lyre To rapture's thrill, with passion's fire, While sorrow o'er my heart-strings plays, With trembling touch, her saddest lays ! Mrs. Osgood. Pale Care now sits enthron'd upon that cheek, Where rosy Health did erst her empire hold. J. T. Watson. / CAUTION - DISCRETION - PRUDENCE. 107 CAUTION — DISCRETION — PRUDENCE. But now, so wise and wary was the knight, By trial of his former harms and cares, That he decry'd, and shunned still his sight : The fish, that once was caught, new bait will hardly bite. Spenser's Fairy Queen. They, that fear the adder's sting, will not Come near his hissing. Chapman Look forward what 's to come, and back what 's past ; Thy life will be with praise and prudence grac'd : What loss or gain may follow, thou may'st guess ; Thou then wilt be secure of the success. Denham. The better part of valour is discretion. Shakspeare. When clouds are seen, wise men put on their cloaks. Shakspeare. Prudence ! thou vainly in our youth art sought, And, with age purchas'd, art too dearly bought ; — We 're past the use of wit, for which we toil, Late fruit, and planted in too cold a soil. Dryden. None pities him that's in the'snare, And, warn'd before, would not beware. Herrick. Man's caution often into danger turns, And his guard, falling, crushes him to death. Young. He knows the compass, sail and oar, Or never launches from the shore ; Before he builds computes the cost, And in no proud pursuit is lost. Gay's Fable*. 108 CELIBACY - CHASTITY. Would you, when thieves are known abroad, Bring forth your treasures in the road ? Would not the fool abet the stealth, Who rashly thus expos'd his wealth ? Gay's Fables. The mouse, that always trusts to one poor hole, Can never be a mouse of any soul. Pope. All 's to be fear'd where all is to be lost. Byron's Werner CELIBACY — CHASTITY. But earlier happy is the rose distill'd, Than that, which, withering on the virgin thorn, Grows, lives and dies in single blessedness. Chaste as the icicle That 's curdled by the frost of purest snow, And hangs on Dian's temple. Lady, you are the crudest she alive, If you will lead those graces to the grave, And leave the world no copy. Shakspeare Shakspeare. Shakspeare". So dear to heaven is saintly chastity, That when a soul is found sincerely so, A thousand liv'ried angels lacquey her, Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt. Milton's Comns. Our Maker bids increase ; who bids abstain But our destroyer, foe to God and man ? Milton's Paradise Lost. There swims no goose so grey, but, soon or late, She finds some honest gander for a mate. Pope. CELIBACY- CHASTITY. 109 Most women's weak resolves, like reeds, will fly, Shake with each breath, and bend with every sigh ; Mine, like an oak whose firm roots deep descend, Nor breath of love can shake, nor sigh can bend. Gay's Dione. When lovely woman stoops to folly, And finds too late that men betray, What charm can soothe her melancholy ? What art can wash her guilt away ? — The only way her guilt to cover, To hide her shame from every eye, To give repentance to her lover, And wring his bosom — is to die. Goldsmith. If I am fair, 't is for myself alone ; I do not wish to have a sweetheart near me, Nor would I call another's heart my own, Nor have a gallant lover to revere me ; For surely I would plight my faith to none, Though many an amorous cit might jump to hear me : For I have heard that lovers prove deceivers, When once they find that maidens are believers. From Michel Angelo. Her bosom was a soft retreat For love and love alone, And yet her heart had never beat To love's delicious tone. It dwelt within its circle, free From tender thoughts like these, Waiting the little deity, As the blossom waits the breeze, Before it throws the leaves apart, And , trembles, like the love-touch'd heart. Mrs. Amelia B. Welby, 10 110 CEREMONY -CHANCE -FORTUNE. For who would bear the whips and thorns of doubt, The oppressor's wrong, the old maid's contumely, The pangs of untold love, the priest's delay, The insolence of rivals, and the sneers That bachelors from womankind must take — But that the dread of something after marriage, That yet untried condition, from whose bonds No victim can be freed, puzzles the will, And makes us rather bear the life we have Than risk another that we know not of? J. T. Watson. CEREMONY. Ceremony was devised at first To set a gloss on faint deeds — hollow welcomes, Recanting goodness, sorry e'er 't is shown ; But where there is true friendship, there needs none. Shakspeare. Then Ceremony leads her bigots forth Prepar'd to fight for shadows of no worth ; While truths, on which eternal things depend, Find not, or hardly find, a single friend. As soldiers watch the signal of command, They learn to bow, to sit, to kneel, to stand ; Happy to fill religion's vacant place With hollow form, and gesture, and grimace. CoWPER. CHANCE — FORTUNE. There is a tide in the affairs of men, That, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune ; Omitted, all the voyage of their life Is bound in shallows and in miseries. Shakspeare. / CHANCE - FORTUNE. 1 1 1 Will fortune never come with both hands full, But write her fair words still in foulest letters ? She either gives a stomach, and no food, — Such are the poor in health ; or else a feast, And takes away the stomach — such the rich, That have abundance and enjoy it not. Shakspeare. Am eagle, towering in his pride of place, Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at, and kill'd. Shakspeare. Fortune, the great commandress of the world, Hath divers ways to enrich her followers : To some she honour gives without deserving ; To other some, deserving without honour ; Some, wit — some, wealth — and some, wit without wealth ; Some, wealth without wit — some, nor wit nor wealth. Chapman. Let not one look of fortune cast you down ; She were not fortune, if she did not frown : Such as do braveliest bear her scorns awhile, Are those on whom at last she most will smile. Lord Orrery. Be juster, heav'ns ! such virtue punish'd thus, Will make us think that Chance rules all above, And shuffles, with a random hand, the lots Which men are forc'd to draw. Drydex. Alas ! the joys that fortune brings Are trifling, and decay, And those who prize the paltry things, More trilling still than they. Goldsmith. Fortune in men has some small difference made : One flaunts in rags, one flutters in brocade. Pope's Essay on Man, 1 12 CHANGE - VICISSITUDE. Fortune makes quick despatch, and in a day- May strip you bare as beggary itself. Cumberland's Philemon. All our advantages are those of fortune ; Birth, health, wealth, beauty, are her accidents ; And fortune can take nought save what she gives. Byron's Two FoscarL Ob, many a shaft, at random sent, Finds mark the archer little meant ; And many a word, at random spoken, May soothe or wound a heart that 's broken. Scott. CHANGE — VICISSITUDE. For all, that in this world is great or gay, Doth, as a vapour, vanish and decay. Spenser's Ruins of Time. Thus doth the ever-changing course of things . Run a perpetual circle, ever turning ; And that same day, that highest glory brings, Brings us unto the point of back-returning. Daniel Is there no constancy in earthly things ? No happiness in us, but what must alter 1 No life without the heavy load of fortune 1 What miseries we are, and to ourselves ! Even then, when full content seems to sit by us, What daily sores and sorrows ! Beaumont and Fletcher. But yesterday the word of Ceesar might Have stood against the world ; now lies he there, And none so poor to do him reverence. Shakspeare. / CHANGE - VICISSITUDE. 1 13 The time has been, when no harsh sounds would fall From lips that now may seem imbued with gall ; But now so callous grown, so chang'd since youth, I 've learn'd to think, and sternly speak the truth. Byron's English Bards, fyc. Gone, glimm'ring thro' the dreams of things that were A schoolboy's tale — the wonder of an hour. Byron's Ckilde Harold. How chang'd since last her speaking eye Glanc'd gladness round the glitt'ring room ; Where high-born men were proud to wait, Where beauty watch'd to imitate ! Byron's Parisina. A minute past, and she had been all tears, And tenderness, and infancy ; but now She stood as one who champion'd human fears : — Pale, statue-like, and stern, she woo'd the blow. Byron's Bon Juan. Roses bloom, and then they wither, Cheeks are bright, then fade and die ; Shapes of light are wafted hither, Then like visions hurry by. J. G. Percival. Ah me ! what is there in earth's various range, Which time and absence may not sadly change ? Sands. But while the glitter charms our gazing eyes, Its wings are folded, and the meteor dies. Robert Treat Paine. Change is written on the tide, On the forest's leafy pride ; On the streamlet glancing bright, ^n the jewell'd crown of night ; — Ali, where'er the eye can rest, Show it legibly imprest. Rev. J. H. Clinch. 10* 114 CHARACTER -DISPOSITION, &c. There are no birds in last year's nest. H. W. Longfellow. Your coldness I heed not, your frown I defy ; Your affection I need not — the time has gone by, When a blush or a smile on that cheek could beguile My soul from its safety, with witchery's wile. Mrs. Osgood. Oh ! what a change, comes over that sad heart ! Where all was joyous, light, and free from care, All thoughts of peace do for a time depart, And yield to rage, and anguish, and despair ! J. T. Watson. CHARACTER — DISPOSITION, &c. He was a man of rare, undoubted might, Famous throughout the world for warlike praise, And glorious spoils purchas'd in perilous fight ; Full many doughty knights he, in his days, Had done to death, subdued in equal frays. Spenser's Fairy Qaeen. With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws, and modern instances. Shakspeare. Who steals my purse, steals trash ; 't is something, nothing, 'T was mine, 't is his, and has been slave to thousands ; But he, who filches from me my good name, Robs me of that which not enriches him, And makes me poor indeed. The purest treasure mortal times afford, Is spotless reputation ; that away, Men are but gilded loam, or painted clay. Shakspeare. Shakspeare. / CHARACTER -DISPOSITION, &c. Hi Gnats are unnotic'd, wheresoe'er they fly, But eagles gaz'd upon with ev'ry eye. Shakspeare. In all thy humours, whether grave or mellow, Thou'rt such a touchy, testy, pleasani fellow, Hast so much wit and mirth, and spleen about thee, There is no living with thee, nor without thee. From Martial. With warlike sword, and sing-song lay, Equipp'd alike for feast or fray. Trumbull's Mc Fin gal. Though gay as mirth, as curious thought sedate ; As elegance polite, as power elate ; Profound as reason, and as justice clear ; Soft as compassion, yet as truth severe. Savage. Without, or with, offence to friends or foes, I sketch the world exactly as it goes. Byron's Don Juan Cold-blooded, smooth-fac'd, placid miscreant. ^ Byron's Don Juan Here's a sigh for those who love me, And a smile for those who hate ; And, whatever sky's above me, Here 's a heart for ev'ry fate, m Byron. W T ith more capacity for love, than earth Bestows on most of mortal mould and birth, His early dreams of good outstripp'd the truth, And troubled manhood follow'd baffled youth. Byron's Lara. Quick in revenge, and passionately proud, His brightest hour still shone forth from a cloud ; And none conjecture on the next could form, — So play'd the sunbeam on the verge of storm. The New Timon. 116 CHARITY. It was not mirth — for mirth she was too still ; It was not wit — wit leaves the heart more chill ; But that continuous sweetness, which with ease Pleases all round it, from the wish to please. The New Timon. The dark grave, "Which knows all secrets, can alone reclaim The fatal doubt once cast on woman's name. Hon. W. Herbert. Devoted, anxious, generous, void of guile, And with her whole heart's welcome in her smile. Mrs. Norton. CHARITY. The secret pleasure of a generous act Is the great mind's great bribe. Dryden. In faith and hope the world will disagree, But all mankind's concern'd in charity ; All must be false, that thwart this one great end ; And all of God, that bless mankind, or mend. Pope's Essay on Man. There are, while human miseries abound, A thousand wa}^s to waste superfluous wealth, Without one fool or flatterer at our board, Without one hour of sickness or disgust. Armstrong Let shining Charity adorn your zeal, The noblest impulse generous minds can feel. Aaron Hill. The truly generous is the truly wise ; And he, who loves not others, lives unblest. Home's Douglass, I CHASTITY -CHEERFULNESS -MIRTH, &c. 117 And learn the luxury of doing good. Goldsmith's Traveller. True charity, a plant divinely nurs'd, Fed by the love from which it rose at first, Thrives against hope, and, in the rudest scene, Storms but enliven its unfading green ; Exuberant in the shadow it supplies, Its fruit on earth, its growth above the skies. CoWPER. The drying up a single tear has more Of honest fame, than shedding seas of gore. Byron's Don Juan. Unfee'd, the calls of nature she obeys, Not led by profit, nor allur'd by praise. Crabbe. Would'st thou from sorrow find a sweet relief, Or is thy heart oppress'd with woe untold ? Balm would'st thou gather for corroding grief? — Pour blessings round thee, like a shower of gold. Carlos Wilcox. The ear, inclin'd to ev'ry voice of grief, The hand that op'd spontaneous to relief, The heart, whose impulse stay'd not for the mind To freeze to doubt what Charity enjoin'd, But sprang to man's warm instinct for mankind. The New Timon. CHASTITY. — (See Celibacy, CHEERFULNESS — MIRTH — SMILE, &c. A merrier man, Within the limits of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal. Shakspeare. 118 CHEERFULNESS -MIRTH -SMILE, &c. And therein sate a lady, fresh and fair, Making sweet solace to herself alone ; Sometimes she sung as loud as lark in air, Sometimes she laugh'd that nigh her breath was gone. Yet was there not with her else any one, That to her might move cause of merriment ; Matter of mirth enough, though there was none, She could divine ; and thousand ways invent To feed her foolish humour and vain jolliment. Spenser's Fairy Queen. Which, when I saw rehears'd, I must confess, Made my eyes water, but more merry tears The passion of loud laughter never shed. Shakspeare. With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come, And let my liver rather heat with wine, Than my heart cool with, mortifying gloom. Shakspeare Fantastic, frolicsome, and wild, With all the trinkets of a child. Cotton And the loud laugh, that spoke the vacant mind. Goldsmith. In short, so provoking a devil was Dick, That we wish'd him full ten times a day at Old Nick; But, missing his mirth and agreeable vein, As often we wish'd to have Dick back again. Goldsmith's Retaliation, Rare compound of oddity, frolic and fun, Who relish'd a joke, and rejoic'd in a pun. Goldsmith's Retaliation, Full well they laugh'd, with counterfeited glee, At all his jokes, for many a joke had he. Goldsmith's Deserted Village. CHEERFULNESS - MIRTH - SMILE, &c. 1 19 Eternal smiles his emptiness betray, As shallow streams run dimpling all the way. Sport, that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter, holding both his sides. Lively and gossiping, Stor'd with the treasures of the tattling world, And with a spice of mirth too. Pope. Milton COWPER. Nor purpose gay, Amusement, dance, or song, he sternly sees, For happiness and true philosophy Are of the social, still, and smiling kind. Thomson's Seasons. For ever foremost in the ranks of fun, The laughing herald of the harmless pun. Byron. Not oft to smile descendeth he, And when he does, 't is sad to see That he but mocks at misery. Byron's Giaour. And yet, methinks, the older that one grows, Inclines us more to laugh than scold, tho' laughter Leaves us so doubly serious shortly after. Byron's Beppo. He is so full of pleasing anecdote, So rich, so gay, so poignant in his wit, Time vanishes before him as he speaks. Joanna Baillie. Were it not worse than vain, to close our eyes Unto the azure sky and golden light, Because the tempest-cloud doth sometimes rise, And glorious days must darken into night ? Douglas Jerrold's Magazine, 120 CHEERFULNESS - MIRTH - SMILE, &c. See how the day beameth brightly before us ! Blue is the firmament, green is the earth ; Grief hath no voice in the universe chorus ; Nature is ringing with music and mirth. Lift up thy eyes, that are looking in sadness ; Gaze ! and, if beauty can rapture thy soul, Virtue herself shall allure thee to gladness — Gladness ! philosophy's guardian and goal. From the German, But then her face, So lovely, yet so arch — so full of mirth, The overflowing of an innocent heart ;— It haunts me still, though many a year has fled, Like some wild melody. Rogers' Italy, Light be thy heart ! why should'st thou keep Sadness within its secret cells ? Let not thine eye one tear-drop weep, Unless that tear of rapture tells. Mrs. A. B. Welby. It gives to beauty half its power, The nameless charm, worth all the rest — The light that dances o'er a face, And speaks of sunshine in the breast. If beauty ne'er have set her seal, It will supply her absence too, And many a cheek looks passing fair, Because a merry heart shines through. How beautiful the smile On beauty's brow, in beauty's eye, When not one token lingers nigh, On lip, or eye, or cheek unbidden, To tell of anguish vainly hidden ! J. G. WlIITTIER. CHILDHOOD - YOUTH. 12J But Oh, there is a smile, which steals Sometimes upon the brow of care, And, like the north's cold light, reveals But gathering darkness there ! J. G. Whittier. Joy, like the zephyr that flies o'er the flower, Rippling into it fresh fairness each hour, — Joy has wav'd o'er thee his sun-woven wing, And dimpled thy cheek like the roses of spring. Mrs. Osgood. Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream ! For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. H. W. Longfellow. A little nonsense, now and then, Is relish'd by the best of men. CHILDHOOD — YOUTH. For youth no less becomes The light and careless livery that it wears, Than settled age his sables, and his weeds Importing health and graveness. Shakspeare. I '11 serve his youth, for youth must have its course, For being restrain'd it makes him ten times worse ; His pride, his riot, all that may be nam'd, By time 's recall'd, and all his madness tam'd. Shakspeare The whining school-boy with his satchel, And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. Shakspeare. 11 122 CHILDHOOD - YOUTH. Delightful task ! to rear the tender thought, To teach the young idea how to shoot, To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind, To breathe the enlivening spirit, and to fix The generous purpose in the glowing breast ! Thomson's Seasons Gather the rose-buds while ye may, Old time is still a-flying, And that same flower that blooms to-day, To-morrow shall be dying. Herrick. Something of youth I in old age approve ; But more the marks of age in youth I love. Who this observes may in his body find Decrepit age, but never in his mind. Intemperate youth, by sad experience found, Ends in an age imperfect and unsound. Denham. Denham. Youth is ever apt to judge in haste, And lose the medium in the wild extreme. Aaron Hill. Young men soon give and soon forget affronts ; Old age is slow in both. Addison's Cato. Happy the school-boy ! did he know his bliss, 'T were ill exchang'd for all the dazzling gems That gaily sparkle in ambition's eye : His are the joys of nature, his the smile, The cherub smile of innocence and health, Sorrow unknown, or, if a tear be shed, He wipes it soon. Knox, By sports like these are all their cares beguii'd ; The sports of children satisfy the child. Goldsmith CHILDHOOD - YOUTH. 123 The tear down childhood's cheek that flows, Is like the dew-drop on the rose ; When next the summer breeze comes by, And waves the bush, the flower is dry. Scott's Rokeby. There still are many rainbows in your sky, But mine are vanish'd. All, when life is new, Commence with feelings warm and prospects high, But Time strips our illusions of their hue. Byron's Don Juan. A lovely being, scarcely form'd or moulded, A rose with all its sweetest leaves yet folded. Byron's Don Juan. Sweet be thy cradled slumbers ! O'er the sea And from the mountains where I now respire, Fain would I waft such blessings upon thee, As with a sigh I deem'd thou mightst have been to me. Byron's Chide Harold. The helpless look of blooming infancy. Byron's Chide Harold. Full swells the deep pure fountain of young life. Byron's Chide Harold. Oh mirth and innocence ! Oh milk and water ! Ye happy mixtures of more happy days ! Bvron's Beppo. A little curly-headed good-for-nothing, And mischief-making monkey from his birth. Byron's Don Juan. The babe, Who, capable of no articulate sound, Mars all things with his imitative lisp. Rogers. Thine was the shout ! the song ! the burst of joy ! Which sweet from childhood's rosy lip resoundeth ; Chine was the eager spirit nought could cloy, And the glad heart from which all grief reboundeth. Mrs. Norton. 124 CHIVALRY. The young ! Oh ! what should wandering fancy bring, In life's first spring-time, but the thoughts of spring ? — World without winter, blooming amaranth bowers, Garlands of brightness, wreath'd from changeless flowers ? Mrs. Norton's Dream. It lay upon its mother's breast, a thing Bright as a dew-drop when it first descends, Or as the plumage of an angel's wing, Where every tint of rainbow beauty blends. Mrs. A. B. Welby. I sported in my tender mother's arms, I rode a-horseback on my father's knee ; Alike were sorrows, passions and alarms, And gold, and Greek, and love, unknown to me. Longfellow — From the Danish. Oh ! what a world of beauty fades away With the wing'd hours of youth ! Dawes' Geraldine. Our early days ! — How often back We turn on life's bewildering track To where, o'er hill and valley, plays The sunlight of our early days ! W. D. Gallagher. CHIVALRY. Most # fair, Will you vouchsafe to teach a soldier terms, Such as will enter at a lady's ear, And plead his love-suit to her gentle heart ? I do not think a braver gentleman, More active-valiant, or more valiant-young, More daring, or more noble, is now alive, To grace this latter age with noble deeds. Shakspeare. Shakspeare. CHURCH -CLERGY, &c. 125 Could deeds my heart discover, Could valour gain your charms, I 'd prove myself a lover Against a world in arms. A form more active, light and strong, Ne'er shot the ranks of war along ; The modest, yet the manly mien, Might grace the court of maiden queen. Old Song. Scott. CHURCH — CLERGY, &c. Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven, Whilst, like a puff'd and reckless libertine, Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads, And recks not his own road. Shakspeare. He could raise scruples dark and nice, And, after, solve 'em in a trice ; As if divinity had catch' d The itch on purpose to be scratch'd. Butler's Budibras. The proud he tam'd, the penitent he cheer'd, Nor to rebuke the rich offender fear'd ; His preaching much, but more his practice wrought A living sermon of the truths he taught. Dryden. At church with meek and unaffected grace, His looks adorn'd the venerable place ; Truth from his lips prevail' d with double sway, And fools, who came to scoff, remain' d to pray. Goldsmith's Deserted Village. Such vast impressions did his sermons make, He always kept his flock awake. Dr. Wolcot's Peter Pindar. 11* 126 CIGAR -SMOKING. I venerate the man whose heart is warm, Whose hands are pure, whose doctrines and whose life Coincident, exhibit lucid proof That he is honest in the sacred cause. r Cowper's Task. Some go to church just for a walk, Some go there to laugh and talk, Some go there the time to spend, Some go there to meet a friend, Some go to learn the parson's name, Some go there to wound his fame, Some go there for speculation, Some go there for observation, Some go there to doze and nod, . But few go there to worship God/ I i CIGAR — SMOKING. In mind compos'd, he sucks : thick curling clouds Of smoke around his reeking temples play. Joyous he sits, and, impotent of thought, Puffs away care and sorrow from his heart. Somervile Thy quiet spirit lulls the lab'ring brain, Lures back to thought the flights of vacant mirth ; Consoles the mourner, soothes the couch of pain, And breathes contentment round the humble hearth ; While savage warriors, soften'd by thy breath, Unbind the captive Hate had doom'd to death. Rev. Walter Colton Yes, social friend, I love thee well, In learned doctors' spite ; Thy clouds all other clouds dispel, And lap me in delight. Charles Sfracue. • CLERGY -CLOUDS -STORM, &c. 137 Farewell ! I 've yet one solace left, which cheers my lonely hearth, And in that thought a thousand hopes are springing into birth : How beautiful the vision comes, amidst life's gath'ring cares, In shape — a champagne bottle, and a box of fine cigars ! J. C. M'Cabe. CLERGY. — (See Church.) CLOUDS The clouds consign their treasures to the fields, And, softly shaking on the dimpled pool Prelusive drops, let all their moisture flow, In large effusion o'er the freshen'd world. Thomson's Seasons. Oh night, And storm, and darkness ! ye are wondrous strong, Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light Of a dark eye in woman. Far along From peak to peak, the rattling crags among, Leaps the live thunder. Byron's Childe Harold. How the giant element, From rock to rock, leaps with delirious bound ! Byron's Childe Harold. The storm howl'd. madly o'er the sea, The clouds their thunder anthems sang, And billows, rolling fearfully, In concert with the whirlwind rang. Rev. J. N. Maffit. 128 COMPANY -COMPASSION -CONCEALMENT, &c. How calm, how beautiful comes on The stilly hour, when storms are gone ; When warring winds have died away, And clouds, beneath the glancing ray, Melt off, and leave the land and sea Sleeping in bright tranquillity ! Moore's Lalla Bookh. In pomp transcendant, rob'd in heav'nly dyes, Arch'd the clear rainbow round the orient skies. Dr. Dwight. Far on the utmost verge of that huge dome, Which rears its ether arch above the world. T. D. English. The sky grew darker. Soon came booming on The deep-voic'd thunder, whilst at distance roll'd The wild winds' dirge-like, and yet tempest tone ; And lightning's evanescent sheets of gold Burst, in their anger, from the cloud's huge fold. T. D. English. The wintry blast, With sound terrific, rushes wildly past. COMPANY. — (See Associates.) COMPASSION. — (See Forgiveness.) CONCEALMENT — SECRESY. A murderous guilt shows not itself more soon Than love that would seem hid : love's night is noon. SlIAKSPEARE. CONCEALMENT-SBCRESY. 129 She never told her love ; But let concealment, like a worm i' th' bud, Feed on her damask cheek. She pined in thought, And sat, like Patience on a monument, Smiling at grief. Shakspeare. I will believe Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know ; And so far will I trust thee. A secret in his mouth Is like a wild bird put into a cage, Whose door no sooner opens, but 't is out. Shakspeare Ben Jonson. "What torment 's equal to the grief of mind, And pining anguish hid in gentle heart, That inly feeds itself with thought unkind, And nourishes its own consuming smart ? Spenser's Fairy Queen* Search not to find what lies too deeply hid ; Nor to know things whose knowledge is forbid. I have a silent sorrow here, A grief I '11 ne'er impart ; It breathes no sigh, it sheds no tear, Yet it consumes my heart. DENnAM. Sheridan, And if she met him, tho' she smil'd no more, She look'd a sadness sweeter than her smile, As if her heart had deeper thoughts in store, She must not own, but cherish'd more the while. Byron's Bon Juan. In that corroding secresy, which gnaws The heart to show the effect, but not the cause. Byron's Lara. 130 CONFESSION. And there were sighs, the deeper for suppression, And stolen glances, sweeter for the theft, And burning blushes, tho' for no transgression, Tremblings when met, and restlessness when left. Byron's Don Juan I think that all the world are grown anonymous, Since no one cares to tell us what he 's call'd. Byron's Werner In many ways does the full heart reveal The presence of the love it would conceal. Coleridge CONFESSION. I know not why I love this youth ; and I have heard you say, Love's reason's without reason. Shakspeare. I blush to think what I have said — But fate has wrested the confession from me ; — Go on, and prosper in the paths of honour ; Thy virtue will excuse my passion for thee, And make the gods propitious to our love. Addison's Cato. Well did I mark the new-born passion grow, Which my heart beat responsive at perceiving. A. Sketon. As letters some hand has invisibly trac'd, When held to the flame, will steal out to the sight ; So, many a feeling that long seem'd efFac'd, The warmth of a meeting like this brings to light. Moore. A light comes o'er me from those looks of love, Like the first dawn of mercy from above. Moore. CONFIDENCE -CONSCIENCE - DUTY. 131 I admit you are handsome, — but still, I should guess, That others are handsome as you ; I 've heard you call'd charming, — but you must confess That all things we hear are not true : You think me the slave of your charms ; — I allow That in graces but few are above you ; Yet, charming and fair as I see you, I vow That — I cannot deny it — I love you ! J. T. Watson. CONFIDENCE. Thy words convince me ; all my doubts are vanish'd. iEscHYLrs' Agamemnon. Be thou as just and gracious unto me, As I am confident and kind to thee. Shakspeare. Let mutual joy our mutual trust combine, And love, and love-born confidence, be thine ! Dryden. Thou know'st how fearless is my trust in thee. Miss L. E. Landon Amidst the dull cares that surround us in life, — In the moments of bliss that illumine our way, — When the bosom is torn with contention and strife, Or thrill'd with delight at the scenes we survey, — Oh ! blest is the man, who can freely repose In the heart of a friend all his joys and his woes ! J. T. Watson, CONSCIENCE — DUTY. Whiles trembling horror did his conscience daunt, And hellish anguish did his soul assail. Spenser. 132 CONSCIENCE - DUTY. A peace above all other dignities, A still and quiet conscience. Shakspeare, My conscience hath, a thousand several tongues, And every tongue brings in a several tale, And every tale condemns me for a villain. Shakspeare. Oh ! I have past a miserable night ! So full of fearful dreams, of ugly sights, That as I am a Christian faithful man, I would not spend another such a night, Though 't were to buy a world of happy days ! Shakspeare Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind ; The thief doth fear each bush an officer. Shakspeare. Thrice is he arm'd that hath his quarrel just ; And he but naked, though lock'd up in steel, Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted. Shakspeare. Leave her to heaven, And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge, To prick and sting her. Shakspeare. Now conscience wakes despair, That slumber'd ; wakes the bitter memory Of what he was, what is, and what must be Worse, if worse deeds, worse sufferings must ensue. Milton's Paradise Lost, He that has light within his own clear breast, May sit i' the centre, and enjoy bright day ; But he that hides a dark soul, and foul thoughts, Benighted walks under the mid-day sun ; Himself is his own dungeon. Milton's Comus. CONSCIENCE - DUT Y. 1 33 Why should not conscience have vacation, As well as other courts o' the nation ? Have equal power to adjourn, Appoint appearance, and return? Butler's Hudibras. 'Tis ever thus With noble minds ; if chance they slide to folly, Remorse stings deeper, and relentless conscience Pours more of gall into the bitter cup Of their severe repentance. Here, here it lies ; a lump of lead by day ; And in my short, distracted, nightly slumbers, The hag that rides my dreams. Mason. Dry den. One self-approving hour whole years outweighs Of stupid starers, and of loud huzzas, And more true joy Marcellus exiled feels, Than Caesar with the Senate at his heels. Pope's Essay on Man. He 's arm'd without, that 's innocent within. Pope. Knowledge or wealth to few are given, But mark how just the ways of heaven : True joy to all is free. Nor wealth nor knowledge grant the boon, 'T is thine, O Conscience ! thine alone — It all belongs to thee. MlCKLE. Oh conscience ! conscience ! man's most faithful friend, Him canst thou comfort, ease, relieve, defend ; But if he will thy friendly checks forego, Thou art, Oh, woe for me ! his deadliest foe ! Crabbe. 12 134 CONSCIENCE - DUTY. Conscience, what art thou ? thou tremendous power ! Who dost inhabit us without our leave, And art within ourselves, another self, A master self, that loves to domineer, And tr°at the monarch frankly as. the slave? Young's Brothers Who does the best his circumstance allows, Does well, acts nobly — angels could no more. Young's Night Thoughts. The sly informer minutes ev'ry fault, And her dread diary with horror fills. Young's Night Thoughts There is no future pang, Can deal that justice on the self-condemn'd, He deals on his own soul. Byron's Manfred. Though thy slumbers may be deep, Yet thy spirit shall not sleep ; There are shades that will not vanish, There are thoughts thou canst not banish. Byron's Manfred. My solitude is solitude no more, But peopled with the furies. Byron's Manfred. A quiet conscience makes one so serene ! Christians have burnt each other, quite persuaded Thdt all the apostles would have done as they did. Byron's Dor, Juan. But, at sixteen, the conscience rarely gnaws So much, as when we call our old debts m At sixty years, and draw the account of evil, And find a deuced balance with the devil. Byron's Don Juan. So much the better : — I may stand alone, But would not change my free-will for a throne. Byron's Don Juan, CONSCIENCE - DUTY. 13c No ear can hear, no tongue can tell The tortures of that inward hell ! Byron's Giaour. The conscience fierce, Awak'ning, without wounding the touch' d heart. Byron's Childe Harold. Yet still there whispers the small voice within, Heard thro' gain's silence, and o'er glory's din ; Whatever creed be taught, or land be trod, Man's conscience is the oracle of God. Byron's Island. That savage spirit, which would lull by wrath Its desperate escape from duty's path ; For ne'er can man his conscience all assuage, Unless he drain the wine of passion — rage. Bye ox's Island. Not all the glory, all the praise, That decks the prosperous hero's days, The shout of men, the laurel crown, The pealing echoes of renown, May conscience's dreadful sentence drown. Mrs. Holford. Possessions vanish, and opinions change, And passion holds a fluctuating seat, But, subject neither to eclipse nor wane, Duty remains. Wordsworth. Trust me, no tortures which the poets feign Can match the fierce, the unutterable pain He feels, who, night and day devoid of rest, Carries his own accuser in his breast. Gifford's Juvenal. How awful is that hour when conscience stings The hoary wretch, who on his death-bed hears, Deep in his soul, the thundering voice that wrings, In one dark, damning moment, crimes of years ! J. G. Percival. r 136 CONSENT -REFUSAL. This kills his pleasure all the day, This thought destroys his nightly rest ; Go where he will, 't is in his way, To him a loathsome, hated pest. J. T. Watson. CONSENT — REFUSAL. I cannot love him: Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble, Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth, In voices well divulg'd, learned, and valiant, And, in dimensions and the shape of nature, A gracious person : but yet I cannot love him. Shakspeare. Do I not in plainest truth Tell you — I do not, nor I cannot love you ? Shakspeare. He might have took his answer long ago. Shakspeare. Repulse upon repulse met ever — Yet gives not o'er, tho' desperate of success. If you oblige me suddenly to choose, My choice is made — and I must you refuse. Take my esteem, if you on that can live ; But, frankly, sir, 't is all I have to give. Love is not in our power, Nay, what seems stranger, is not in our choice We only love where fate ordains we should, And, blindly fond, oft slight superior merit. Milton. Dryden. Dryden. Frowde 'Twas whisper'd balm — 'twas sunshine spoken ! MOORE. L_ CONSTANCY - INCONSTANCY. 137 I strove not to resist so sweet a flame, But gloried in a happy captive's name ; Nor would I now, would love permit, be free ! Lord Lyttleton. My heart with love is beating, Transported by your eyes; Alas ! there 's no retreating, In vain a captive flies. I 've rich ones rejected, and fond ones denied, But, take me, fond shepherd, — I 'm thine. Oh, do not talk to me of love, 'Tis deepest cruelty to me — Why throw a net around the bird That might be happy, light and free ? Now what could artless Jennie do ? She had na' will to say him na' ; At length she blush'd a sweet consent, And love was ay between them twa. She half consents, who silently denies. McNeil. Westjiacott Burns. Ovid. CONSTANCY — INCONSTANCY. O heaven ! were man But constant, he were perfect ; that one error Fills him with faults ; makes him run through all sins. Shakspeare. I am constant as the northern star, Of whose true, fix'd, and resting quality There is no fellow in the firmament. Shakspeare 12* 138 CONSTANCY -INCONSTANCY. Go, bid the needle its dear North forsake, To which with trembling reverence it doth bend ; Go, bid the stones a journey upwards make ; Go, bid th' ambitious flames no more ascend ; And when these false to their old motions prove, Then will 1 cease thee, thee alone to love. Cowley, Perhaps this cruel nymph well knows to feign Forbidding speech, coy looks, and cold disdain, To raise his passion : Such are female arts, To hold in safer snares inconstant hearts. Gay's Dione True constancy no time, no power can move, He that hath known to change, ne'er knew to love. Gay's Dione Yes, let the eagle change his plume, The leaf its hue, the flower its bloom, But ties around that heart w r ere spun, Which would not, could not be undone. Campbell. Sooner shall the blue ocean melt to air, Sooner shall earth resolve itself to sea, Than I resign thine image, Oh my fair ! Or think of any thing, excepting thee. Byron's Don Juan. Love bears within itself the very germ Of chancre ; and how should this be otherwise ? That violent things more quickly find a term Is shown through nature's w r hole analogies. Byron's Don Juan. Then fare thee w 7 ell — I 'd rather make My bower upon some icy lake, When thawing suns begin to shine, Than trust to love so false as thine ! Moore CONSTANCY - INCONSTANCY. 1 39 Oh, the heart, that has truly lov'd, never forgets, But as truly loves on to the close, As the sun-flower turns on her god, when he sets, The same look which she turn'd when he rose. Sweetest love ! I '11 not forget thee ! Time shall only teach my heart Fonder, warmer to regret thee, Lovely, gentle as thou art ! Moore Moore. There are three things a wise man will not trust : The wind, the sunshine of an April day, And woman's plighted faith. SoUTHEY. Tell her I '11 love her while the clouds drop rain, Or while there 's water in the pathless main. Think not, beloved, time can break The spell around us cast, Or absence from my bosom take The memory of the past. The love that is kept in the beauty of trust, Cannot pass like the foam from the seas, Or a mark that the finger hath trac'd in the dust, Where 't is swept by the breath of the breeze. Mrs. Amelia B. Welby. The mountain rill Seeks, with no surer flow, the far, bright sea, Than my unchang'd affection flows to thee. Park Benjamin Love, constant love ! Age cannot quench it — like the primal ray From the vast fountain that supplies the day, Far, far above Our cloud-encircled region, it will flow As pure and as eternal in its glow. Park Benjamin 140 CONSTANCY -INCONSTANCY. I lov'd thee in thy spring-time's blushing hour,— I lov'd thee in thy summer's ripen'd noon — I lov'd thee in the blossom, bud, and flower — The tear of April, and the smile of June :— Fear not, then, fear not any hour will see The heart grow cold that ever beats for thee ! With a kiss my vow was greeted As I knelt before thy shrine; But I saw that kiss repeated On another lip than mine: And a solemn vow was spoken That thy heart should not be changd; But that binding vow was broken, And thy spirit was estrang'd. J. O. Rockwell. Though youth be past, and beauty fled, The constant heart its pledge redeems, Like box that guards the flowerless bed, And brighter from the contrast seems. Mrs. S. J. Hale. Thou art fickle as the sea, Thou art wandering as the wind, And the restless, ever-mounting flames Are not more hard to bind. W. C. Bryant Inconstant ! are the waters so That fall in showers on hill and plain, Then, tired of what they find below, Ride on the sunbeams back again ? There is nothing but death Our affection can sever, And till life's latest breath Love shall bind us for ever. J. G. Percival. CONTEMPLATION -REFLECTION. 141 Where'er thou jouraeyest, or whate'er thy care, My heart shall follow, and my spirit share. Mrs\ L. H. Sigourney. The finger of love, on my innermost heart, Wrote thy name, O adored ! when my feelings were young ; And the record shall 'bide till my soul shall depart, And the darkness of death o'er my being be flung. W. H. Burleigh. CONTEMPLATION — REFLECTION. Thus ev'ry object of creation Can furnish hints for contemplation, And, from the most minute and mean, A virtuous mind can morals glean. Gay's Fables. 'T is greatly wise to talk with our past hours. And ask them what report they 've borne to heaven, And how they might have borne more welcome news. Young's Night Thoughts. A soul without reflection, like a pile Without inhabitant, to ruin runs. Young's Night Thoughts. Thanks to the human heart, by which we live, Thanks to its tenderness, its joys and fears, To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts, that do often lie too deep for tears. Wordsworth. Mount on Contemplation's wings, And mark the causes and the ends of things ; Learn what we are, and for what purpose born, What station here 't is given us to adorn ; How best to blend security with ease, And win our way thro' life's tempestuous seas. Gifford's Perseus. 142 CONTEMPT -SCORN. It is fine To stand upon some lofty mountain thought, And feel the spirit stretch into a view. Bailey's Festus. Within the deep, Still chambers of the heart, a spectre dim, Whose tones are like the wizard voice of Time, Heard from the tombs of ages, points its cold And solemn finger to the beautiful And holy visions that have past away, And left no shadow of their loveliness On the dead waste of life. George D. Prentice. CONTEMPT — SCORN. Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes. Shakspeare. Infamous wretch ! So much below my scorn, I dare not kill thee ! Dryden. He hears On all sides, from innumerable tongues, A dismal, universal hiss, the sound Of public scorn. Milton's Paradise Lost. Derision shall strike thee forlorn, A mock'ry that never shall die; The curses of hate, and the hisses of scorn, Shall burthen the winds of the sky; And, proud o'er thy ruin, for ever be hurl'd, The laughter of triumph, the jeers of the world. Byron. Thou may'st from law, but not from scorn escape ; The pointed finger, cold, averted eye, Insulted virtue's hiss — thou canst not fly. Charles Sprague CONTENTMENT - DISCONTENT 143 Pardon is for men, And not for reptiles — we have none for Steno, And no resentment ; tilings like him must sting, And higher beings suffer ; 't is the charter Of life. The man, who dies by the adder's pang, May have the crawler crush'd, but feels no anger : 'T was the worm's nature ; and some men are worms In soul, more than the living things of tombs Byrons Marino Faliero. And would'st thou turn, Like one contemn'd, to seek for more contempt ! Rufus Dawes. CONTENTMENT — DISCONTENT. O ! who can lead, then, a more happy life, Than he, that, with clean mind and heart sincere, No greedy riches knows, nor bloody strife ? Spenser. The remnant of his days he safely past, Nor found they lagg'd too slow, nor flew too fast ; He made his wish with his estate comply, Joyful to live, yet not afraid to die. Still falling out with this and this, And finding something still amiss ; More peevish, cross, and splenetic Than dog distract or monkey ?:ck. Prior. Butler's Hudibras. Peace, brother, be not over-exquisite To cast the fashion of uncertain evils ; For, grant they be so, while they rest unknown, What need a man forestall his date of grief, And run to meet what he would most avoid ? Milton's Comics 144 CONTENTMENT - DISCONTENT. For who did ever yet, by honour, wealth, Or pleasure of the sense, Contentment find ? Who ever ceas'd to wish, when he had health, Or, having Wisdom, was not vex'd in mind 1 Davies' Immortality of the Soul The lion crav'd the fox's art; The fox the lion's force and heart; The cock implor'd the pigeon's flight, Whose wings were rapid, strong, and light; The pigeon strength of wing despis'd, And the cock's matchless valour priz'd. The fishes wish'd to graze the plain; The beasts to skim beneath the main. Thus, envious of another's state, Each blam'd the partial hand of fate. Gay's Fables. Sour discontent, that quarrels with our fate, May give fresh smart, but not the old abate ; The uneasy passion's disingenuous wit, The ill reveals, but hides the benefit. Sir R. Blackmore. He, fairly looking into life's account, Saw frowns and favours were of like amount ; And viewing all — his perils, prospects, purse — He said, " Content — 'tis well it is no worse." Crabbe. With careless eyes he views the proud, In splendid robes profusely drest, Nor heeds the dull, censorious crowd, By fortune's fickle goddess blest. Gentleman? What tho' on hamely fare we dine, Wear hodden gray, and a' that? Gie fools their silk, and knaves thieir wine, A man's a man for a' that. Magazine. Burns. CONVERSATION -LOQUACITY, &c 145 And passing rich, with forty pounds a year. Goldsmith's Deserted Village. A country-lad is my degree, And few there are that ken me, ; But what care I how few they he ? I'm welcome to my Nannie, 0. Burns. We heeded not the cold blast, nor the winter's icy air, For we found our climate in the heart, and it was summer there. J. R. Drake. The feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only, As the mist resembles rain. H. W. Longfellow. ! dear is my cottage, unclouded by sorrow, And sweet is the bower my Emeline wove ; Ah ! nought from the gay or the wealthy I 'd borrow, "While blest with the smile of contentment and love. S. Richards. 'Tis said that frail, inconstant man, Ts ne'er content with what he is : Each thinks he can in others scan A happiness more pure than his. J. T. Watson. CONVERSATION — LOQUACITY. &c. "What cracker is this same, that deafs our ears With this abundance of superfluous breath ? SlIAKSPEARE. O, he 's as tedious As a tir'd horse, a railing wife ; Worse than a smoky chimney. Sharspeare. 13 * 146 CONVERSATION - LOQUACITY, &o. Since brevity 's the soul of wit, And tediousness the limbs and outward nourishes— I will be brief. Shakspeare A flourish ! trumpets ! — strike alarums — drums ! Let not the heavens hear these tell-tale women Rail Shakspeare Few words shall fit the trespass best, When no excuse can give the fault amending. Shakspeare. Their copious stories, oftentimes begun, End without audience and are never done. Shakspeare. As 't is a greater mystery, in the art Of painting, to foreshorten any part, Than draw it out, so 't is, in books, the chief Of all perfections to be plain and brief. Butler. For brevity is very good, When we are, or are not, understood. Butler's Hudibias. But still his tongue ran on, the less Of weight it had, with greater ease ; And, with its everlasting clack, Set all men's ears upon the rack. Butler's Hudibras, I never, with important air, In conversation overbear; My tongue within my lips I rein, For who talks much must talk in vain. Gay's Fables But fools, to talking ever prone, Are sure to make their follies known. x Gay's Fables. CONVERSATION- LOQUACITY, &c. 147 In arguing, too, the parson own'd his skill, For, even tho' vanquish'd, he could argue still. Goldsmith's Deserted Tillage. With words of learned length, and thund'ring sound. Goldsmith's Deserted Village. Too deep for his hearers, still went on refining, And thought of convincing, while they thought of dining. Goldsmith's Retaliation. The bookful blockhead, ignorantly read, With loads of learned lumber in his head, With his own tongue still edifies his ears, And always list'ning to himself appears. Pope. Be silent always, when you doubt your sense, And speak, tho' sure, with seeming diffidence. Pope's Essay on Criticism. A dearth of words a woman need not fear ; But 't is a task indeed to learn — to hear. In that the skill of conversation lies ; That shows or makes you both polite and wise. Y~orxG. Talking, she knew not why, and car'd not what. Byron's Beppo. If, in talking from morning till night, A sign of our wisdom there be, The swallows are wiser by right, For they prattle much faster than we. Moore's Nicostratus. And there 's one rare, strange virtue in their speeches, The secret of their mastery — they are short. Halle ck. 148 COQUETTE COQUETTE. The vain coquette each suit disdains, And glories in her lovers' pains ; With age she fades — each lover flies, Contemn'd, forlorn, she pines and dies. Gay's Fables. Who hath not heard coquettes complain Of days, months, years, mis-spent in vain ? For time misus'd they pine and waste, And love's sweet pleasures never taste. Gay's Fables. Nymph of the mincing mouth, and languid eye, And lisping tongue so soft, and head awry, And flutt'ring heart, of leaves of aspen made. Dr. Wolcot's Peter Pindar. Such is your old coquette, who can't say " No," And won't say " Yes ;" and keeps you on and offing On a lee shore, till it begins to How ; Then sees your heart wreck'd with an inward scoffing : This works a world of sentimental woe, And sends new Werters yearly to their coffin. Byron's Don Juan. Would you teach her to love? For a time seem to rove ; At first she may frown in a pet ; But leave her awhile, She shortly will smile, And then you may win your coquette. Byron. Can I again that look recall, That once could make me die for thee? — No, no! — the eye that burns on all, Shall never more be priz'd by me ! Moore COUNTRY - PATRIOTISM. 149 Still panting o'er a crowd to reign, More joy it gives to woman's breast, To make ten frigid coxcombs vain, Than one true, manly lover blest. Bright as the sun her eyes the gazers strike, And, like the sun, they shine on all alike. Moore. Po? There's danger in the dazzling eye, That woos thee with its witching smile ; Another, when thou art not by, Those beaming looks would fain beguile. Mrs. Osgood. But why, O, why on all thus squander The treasures one alone can prize ? Why let the looks at random wander, Which beam from those deluding eyes ? C. F. Hoffman, COUNTRY — PATRIOTISM. A great man struggling in the storms of fate, And greatly falling with a falling state. Pope. But where to find the happiest spot below, Who can direct, when all pretend to know ? The shuddering tenant of the Frigid Zone Proudly proclaims that happiest spot his own ; The naked negro, panting on the line, Boasts of his golden sands and palmy wine ; — Such is the patriot's boast where'er we roam, His first, best country ever is his own. Goldsmith's Traveller. Whither where equinoctial fervours glow, Or winter wraps the polar land in snow. Goldsmith's Traveller. 13* 1 50 COUNTRY - PATRIOTISM. Gay sprightly land of mirth and social joy ! Goldsmith's Traveller. The wandering mariner, whose eye explores The wealthiest isles, the most enchanting shores, Views not a realm so beautiful and fair, Nor breathes the fragrance of a purer air ; In every clime the magnet of his soul, Touch'd by remembrance, trembles to that pole. J. Montgomery. Then said the mother to her son, And pointed to his shield ; — *• Come with it, when the battle 's done, Or on it, from the field." R. Montgomery. Breathes there a man with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said — This is my own — my native land ! Scott's Last Minstrel, Wert thou all that I wish thee, great, glorious and free, First flower of the earth, and first gem of the sea, I might hail thee with prouder, with happier brow, But oh ! could I love thee more deeply than now ? Moore. Carolina, Carolina! Heaven's blessings attend her! While we live we will cherish, and love, and defend her. Tho' the scorner may sneer at, and witlings defame her, Our hearts swell with gladness whenever we name her ! Judge Gaston. Let Spain boast the treasures that grow in her mines ; Let Gallia rejoice in her olives and vines ; In bright sparkling jewels let India prevail, With her odours Arabia perfume every gale : — 'T is Columbia alone that can boast of the soil Where the fair fruits of virtue and liberty smile. COUNTRY - PATRIOTISM. 151 Our bosoms with rapture beat high at thy name, Thy health is our transport — our triumph thy fame ; Like our sires, with our swords we '11 support thy renown ; What they bought with their blood we '11 defend with our own On, on to the just and glorious strife, With your swords your freedom shielding ; Nay, resign, if it must be so, even life, But die at least, unyielding ! Sweet clime of my kindred, blest land of my birth ! The fairest, the dearest, the brightest on earth ! Where'er I may roam — howe'er blest I may be, My spirit instinctively turns unto thee ! Oh heaven ! he cried, my bleeding country save ! Is there no arm on high to shield the brave ? Yet, though destruction sweep those lovely plains, Rise, fellow-men ! our country yet remains ! By that dread name, we wave the sword on high, And swear with her to live — with her to die ! Campbell's Pleasures of Hope. Hope for a season bade the world farewell, And freedom shriek'd, as Kosciusko fell ! Campbell's Pleasures of Hope. They never fail who die In a great cause : the block may soak their gore, Their heads may sodden in the sun ; their limbs Be strung to city gates or castle walls ; — But still their spirit walks abroad. Though years Elapse, and others share as dark a doom, They but augment the deep and sweeping thoughts Which overspread all others, and conduct The w r orld at last to freedom. Byron's Marino Faliero. 1 52 COUNTRY - PATRIOTISM. Snatch from the ashes of your sires The embers of their former fires, And he, who in the strife expires, Will add to theirs a name of fear, That tyranny will quake to hear ! Byron's Giaour, The Niobe of Nations ! there she stands, Childless and crownless in her voiceless woe ; An empty urn within her wither'd hands, Whose holy dust was scatter'd long ago. Byron's Childe Harold. — While the tree Of freedom's wither'd trunk puts forth a leaf, Even for thy tomb a garland let it be. Byron's Childe Harold. Yes, honour decks the turf that wraps their clay. Byron's Childe Harold. Who, all unbrib'd, on freedom's ramparts stand, Faithful and true, bright wardens of the land. Charles Sprague. England ! with all thy faults, I love thee still. COWPER. When a patriot falls, must he fall in the battle, Where the cannon's loud roar is his only death-rattle ? There 's a warfare where none but the morally brave Stand nobly and firmly, their country to save. 'Tis the war of opinion, where few can be found, On the mountain of principle, guarding the ground, With vigilant eyes ever watching the foes Who are prowling around them, and aiming their blows. Mrs. Dana. And they who for their country die, Shall fill an honour'd grave ; For glory lights the soldier's tomb, And beauty weeps the brave. J. R. Drake. COUNTRY- COURAGE - COURTIER. 153 They love their land because it is their own, And scorn to give aught other reason why ; Would shake hands with a king upon his throne, And think it kindness to his Majesty. FlTZ-GREEN HaLLECK. Strike — till the last arm'd foe expires ; Strike for your altars and your fires; Strike for the green graves of your sires, God, and your native land ! FlTZ-GREEN HaLLECK. Yes, it is dear — fair Southern clime Of genial suns and hearts sincere ; And we will cherish it till Time Shall end, at last, our life's career. J. T. Watson. COUNTRY LIFE. — (See Rural Scenes.) COURAGE. — (See Bravery.) COURTIER — PARASITE. Full little knowest thou, that hast not tried, What hell it is in suing long to bide ; To lose good days, that might be better spent, To waste long nights in pensive discontent ; To speed to-day, to be put back to-morrow ; To feed on hope, to pine with fear and sorrow ; — To fawn, to crouch, to wait, to ride, to run, To spend, to give, to want, to be undone ; — Unhappy wight, born to disastrous end, That doth his life in so long tendance spend. Spenser's Mother Hubbard? s Tale. 1 54 COURTIER - PARASITE. These can lie, Flatter, and swear, deprave, inform, Smile and betray ; make guilty men ; then beg The forfeit lives, to get the livings ; cut Men's throats with whisperings ; sell to gaping suitors The empty smoke that flies about a palace. Ben Jonson. I have been told, virtue in courtiers' hearts Suffers an ostracism, and departs. Dr. Donne. True courtiers should be modest, and not nice ; Bold, but not impudent ; pleasure love, not vice. Chapman. Poor wretches, that depend On greatness' favour, dream as I have done ; Wake and find nothing. Shakspeare. The caterpillars of the commonwealth, Whom I have soon to weed and pluck away. Shakspeare. I hardly yet have learn'd T' insinuate, natter, bow, and bend the knee. Shakspeare. Those, that go up hill, use to bow Their bodies forward, and stoop low, To poise themselves ; anct sometimes creep When th' way is difficult and steep : So those at court, that do address By low, ignoble offices, Can stoop at any thing that 's base, To wriggle into trust and grace, Are like to rise to greatness sooner Than those that go by worth and honour. Butler's Hudibras. See how he sets his countenance for deceit, And promises a lie before he speaks. Dryden, COURTSHIP. 155 ! T is the curse of kings, To be surrounded by a renal nerd Of flatterers, that soothe his darling vices, And rob their master of his subjects' lore. Brook's Earl of TFarwick Curse on the coward or perfidious tongue That dares not, even to kings, avow the truth. Thomson. To shake with laughter, ere the jest they hear, To pour, at will, the counterfeited tear ; And, as their patron hints the cold or heat, To shake in dog-days, in December sweat. Dr. Johnson. A lazy, proud, unprofitable crew, The vermin gender'd from the rank corruption Of a luxurious state. Cumberland. A mere court butterfly, That flutters in the pageant of a monarch. Byron's Sardanapahis. And none did love him — though to hall and bower He gather' d followers from far and near ; He knew them flatterers of the festal hour, The heartless parasites of present cheer. Byron's Childe Harold. COURTSHIP. Bring, therefore, all the forces that you may, And lay incessant battery to her heart ; Plaints, prayers, vows, ruth, and sorrow, and dismay, — These engines can the proudest love convert. Spenser's Sonnets. 156 COURTSHIP. So well he woo'd her, and so well he wrought her, With fair entreaty and sweet blandishment, That at the length unto a bay he brought her, So that she to his speeches was content To lend an ear, and softly to relent. Spenser's Fairy Queen. I do not love Much ceremony ; suits in love should not, Like suits in law, be rock'd from term to term. Shirley. There is, sir, a critical minute in Everjr man's wooing, when his mistress may Be won, which if he carelessly neglect To prosecute, he may wait long enough Before he gains the like opportunity. Marmyan. She is beautiful, therefore to be woo'd ; She is woman, therefore to be won. SllAKSPEARE. Flatter and praise, commend, extol their graces ; Though ne'er so black, say they have angels' faces. That man that has a tongue, I say, is no man, If with his tongue he cannot win a woman. Shakspeare. Say that she rail ; why then I '11 tell her plain, She sings as sweetly as the nightingale ; Say that she frown ; I '11 say, she looks as clear As morning roses newly wash'd with dew ; Say she be mute, and will not speak a word ; Then I '11 commen 1 her volubility, And say, she uttereth piercing eloquence. Shakspeare. But tho' I lov'd you well, I woo'd you not ; And yet, good faith, I wish'd myself a man ; Or, that we women had men's privilege Of speaking first. Shakspeare. COURTSHIP. 157 In trr,se ears of mine, These credulous ears, he pour'd the sweetest words That art or love could frame. Beaumont. I am not form'd, by flattery and praise, By sighs and tears, and all the whining trade Of love, to feed a fair one's vanity, To charm at once, and spoil her. Thomson. He that would win his dame, must do As Love does when he draws his how ; With one hand thrust the lady from, And with the other pull her home. Butler's Hudibras. For, you must know, a widow's won With brisk attempt and putting on ; With ent'ring manfully, and urging, Not slow approaches, like a virgin. Butler's Hudibras. f She most attracts who longest can refus£. With easy freedom and a gay address, A pressing lover seldom wants success. A witty, wild, inconstant, free gallant. Aaron Hill. Rowe. Rowe. To me he came ; my heart with rapture sprung, To see the blushes, when his faltering tongue First said, Hove. My eyes consent reveal, And plighted vows our faithful passion seal. Gay's Dione. So, with decorum all things carried, Miss frown'd, and blush'd, and then was married. v Goldsmith fShe half consents who silently denies.) Ovid. Men dream in courtship, but in wedlock wake. Pope's Eloisa. 14 158 COURTSHIP. Like a lovely tree She grew to womanhood, and between whiles Rejected several suitors, just to learn How to accept a better in his turn. Byron's Don Juan. The gentle pressure and the thrilling touch. Byron's Don Juan. To pick up gloves, and fans, and knitting-needles, And list for songs and tunes, and watch for smiles, And smile at pretty prattle, and look into The eyes of maids as tho' they were bright stars. Byron. But yet she listen'd — 't is enough — Who listens once will listen twice, Her heart, be sure, is not of ice, And one refusal's no rebuff. Byron's. Mazeppa. Then thro' my brain the thought did pass, Even as a flash of lightning there, That there was something in her air That would not doom me to despair. Byron's Mazeppa. SkilPd in the ogle of a roguish eye. Byron's Childe Harold. Not much he kens, I ween, of woman's breast, Who thinks that wanton thing is won by sighs. Do proper homage to thine idol's eyes, But not too humbly, or she wiJl despise : Disguise even tenderness, if thou art wise. Byron's Childe Harold. In whispers low, And sweet as softest music's gentle flow, The lovers spoke. Mrs. Howe. While the dimple and blush, starting soft to her cheek, Told the tale that her tongue was too timid to speak. Mrs. Osgood COWARDICE - FEAR. 1 59 There 's nothing like maneuvering in season, Ye parents, who have daughters to dispose of, Especially if you have any reason To think in maidenhood their lives will doze off, And there is one in fifty thousand chances, That Cash's eldest son will make advances. Dawes' Geraldine. When happy lovers meet In some lone spot, where not a sound is heard Save their own sighs, or the unequal beat Of their young hearts to tender wishes stirr'd, As hand seeks hand, and meeting glances tell The unutter'd tale of love too sweetly well. Mrs. A. B. Welby. COWARDICE — FEAR. His hand did quake, And tremble like a leaf of aspen green, And troubled blood thro' his pale face was seen To come and go, with tidings from the heart, As it a running messenger had been. Spenser's Fairy Queen. Thereat he smitten was, with great affright, And trembling terror did his heart appal, Nor wist he what to think of that same sight, Nor what to say, nor what to do at all. Spenser's Fairy Queen. Cowards die many times before their death ; The valiant never taste of death but once. And extreme fear can neither fight nor fly, But, coward-like, with trembling terror die. Shakspeare. Shakspeare. 160 COWARDICE - FEAR. And, though he posted e'er so fast, His fear was greater than his haste ; For fear, though fleeter than the wind, Believes 'tis always left behind. Butler's Hudibras Those that fly may fight again, Which he can never do that 's slain ; Hence timely running 's no mean part Of conduct in the martial art. Butler's Hudibras. Aghast he stands, Stiffen'd with fear, unable to resist, And impotent to fly. Somervile's Hobbinol. Think not, coward, wit can hide the shame Of hearts, which, while they dare not strike for fear, Would make it virtue in them to forbear. Lord Brooke. Desponding fear, of feeble fancies full, Weak and unmanly, weakens ev'ry pow'r. Thomson's Seasons. Grac'd with a sword, but worthier of a fan. Cowper. My blood ran back, My shaking knees against each other knock'd — On the cold pavement down I fell entranc'd, Drydex. The wretch that fears to drown, will break thro' flames ; Or, in his dread of flames, will plunge in waves. When eagles are in view, the screaming doves Will cower beneath the feet of man for safety. Gibber. Imagination frames events unknown, Tn wild, fantastic shapes of hideous ruin ; And what it fears creates! Hannah More. CREDULITY -DOUBT. 161 As mongrels bay the lion in a cage. Dr. Johnson. Must I consume my life — this little life, In guarding against all may make it less ? It is not worth so much ! — it were to die Before my hour, to live in dread of death. Byron's Sardanapalus. It has a strange, quick jar upon the ear, This cocking of a pistol, when you know A moment more will bring the sight to bear Upon your person, twelve yards off or so. Byron's Don Juan* And cheeks all pale, which, but an hour before, Blush'd at the praise of their own loveliness. Byron's CJiilde Harold. Go — let thy less than woman's hand Assume the distaff — not the brand. Byron's Bride of Abydos. Hope, fear, and love, Joy, doubt, and hate, may other spirits move, But touch not his, who, ev'ry waking hour, Has one fix'd dread, and always feels its pow'r. Crabbe. CREDULITY — DOUBT. Our doubts are traitors, And make us lose the good we oft might win By fearing to attempt. Shakspeare. Oh, how this tyrant, doubt, torments my breast ! My thoughts, like birds, who, frighten'd from their nest, Around the place where all was hush'd before, Flutter, and hardly nestle any more. Otway. 14* 162 CRITICISM - STYLE - TASTK Lest men suspect your tale untrue, Keep probability in view. For when we risk no contradiction, It tempts the tongue to deal in fiction ; Those things that startle me or you, I grant, are strange, yet may be true. Gay's Fables. Gay's Fables. Or, indolent, to each extreme they fall, To trust in everything, or doubt of all. Pope's Essay on Man. A daring infidel, (and such there are, From pride, example, lucre, rage, revenge, Or pure heroicai defect of thought,) Of all earth's madmen, most deserves a chain. Young's Night Thoughts. Your noblest natures are most credulous. Chapman. Security's blind nurse, the dream of fools, The drunkard's ape, that, feeling for his way, Even when he thinks in his deluded sense To snatch at safety, falls without defence. Mason. And shall we own such judgment ? No ; as soon Seek roses in December, ice in June, Hope constancy in wind, or corn in chaff, Believe a woman, or an epitaph. Byron's English Bards, fyc. CRITICISM — STYLE — TASTE. Who shall dispute what the Reviewers say ! Their word 's sufficient ; and to ask a reason, In such a state as theirs, is downright treason. Churchill CRITICISM -STYLE -TASTE. 163 Critics to plays for the same end resort That surgeons wait on trials in a court : For innocence condemn'd they've no respect, Provided they 've a body to dissect. CONGREVE. On me, when dunces are satiric, 1 take it for a panegyric ; Hated by fools, and fools to hate, Be that my motto, and my fate. Dean Swift. Hot, noisy, envious, proud, the scribbling fry Burn, hiss and bounce, waste paper, ink, and die. Young. Let such teach others, who themselves excel, And censure freely, who have written well. Pope's Essay on Criticism. Some have at first for wits, then poets pass'd ; Turn'd critics next, and prov'd plain fools at last. Some neither can for wits nor critics pass, As heavy mules are neither horse nor ass. Pope's Essay on Criticism. A perfect judge will read each work of wit With the same spirit that its author writ ; Survey the whole, nor seek slight faults to find, Where nature moves, and rapture charms the mind. Pope's Essay on Criticism. Neglect the rule each verbal critic lays, For not to know some trifles is a praise ; And men of breeding, sometimes men of wit, T' avoid great errors, must the less commit. Pope's Essay on Criticism. Some to conceit alone their taste confine, And curious thoughts struck out at ev'ry line — Pleas'd with a work where nothing's just or fit, One glaring chaos, and wild heap of wit. Pope's Essay on Criticism. 164 CRITICS. Others for language all their care express, And value books, as women men, for dress ; Their praise is still — " The style is excellent," The sense they humbly take upon content. Pope's Essay on Criticism. True ease, in writing, comes from art, not chance, As those move easiest who have learn'd to dance. Pope's Essay on Criticism. Talk as you will of taste, my friend, you '11 find Two of a face, as soon as of a mind. Pope's Imitations. Manner is all in all, whate'er is writ, The substitute for genius, sense, and wit. COWPER. A man must serve his time at ev'ry trade, Save censure ; critics all are ready-made : Take hackney' d jokes from Miller, got by rote, With just enough of learning to misquote ; A mind well skill'd to forge or find a fault, A turn for punning — call it Attic salt — Fear not to lie — 't will seem a lucky hit ; Shrink not from blasphemy — 'twill pass for wit ; Care not for feeling, pass your project jest,— And stand a critic, hated yet caress'd. Byron's English Bards, fyc. Applauds to-day what yesterday he curst, Lampoons the wisest, and extols the worst ; While, hard to tell, so coarse a daub he lays, Which sullies most, the slander or the praise. Sprague's Curiosity. CRITICS. — (See Criticism.) CRUELTY - TORTURE. 1 63 CRUELTY — TORTURE. A stony adversary, an inhuman wretch, Incapable of pity, void and empty From every drachm of mercy. Shakspeare. The poor beetle, that we tread upon, In corporal suffering feels a pang as great As when a giant dies. Shakspeare. Do not insult calamity ; It is a barbarous grossness to lay on The weight of scorn, where heavy misery Too much already weighs men's fortunes down. Daniel. Thou shalt behold him stretch'd in all the agonies Of a tormenting and a shameful death ! His bleeding bowels, and his broken limbs, Insulted o'er by a vile butchering villain. Otway's Venice Preserved. Bring forth the rack: Fetch hither cords, and knives, and sulphurous flames ; He shall be bound and gash'd, his skin fleec'd, burnt alive He shall be hours, days, years, a-dying ! Nat. Lee. Wire-draw his skin, spin all his nerves like hair, And work his tortur'd flesh as thin as flame. Nat. Lee. I reverence the coachman who cries " Gee," And spares the lash. When I behold a spider Prey on a fly, a magpie on a worm, Or view a butcher, with horn-handled knife, Slaughter a tender lamb as dead as mutton — Indeed, indeed, I 'm very, very sick ! Rejected Addresses. 1 SG CRUELTY - TORTURE. The savage brute, that haunts in woods remote, And deserts wild, tears not the fearful traveller, If hunger, or some injury, provoke not. Rowe. Oh ! rather fail this ardent breath, And palsied sink this hand in death, Ere with keen taunt and lingering blow I hover o'er a fallen foe ! Mrs. Holford's Margaret of Anjoxi. His was the sternest, hardest breast That ever burnish' d cuirass press'd. Mrs. Holford's Margaret of Anjou. Thy suing to these men were as the bleating Of the lamb to the butcher, or the cry Of seamen to the surge. Byron's Marino Faliero. And ponder still On pangs that longest rack, and latest kill. Byron's Corsair A saint had cried out, Even with the crown of glory in his eyes, At such inhuman artifice of pain As was forc'd on him. Byron's Two Foscan. Nurtur'd in blood betimes, his heart delights In vengeance gloating on another's pain. Byron's Childe Harold, Humanity is policy in war, And cruelty 's a prodigal, that heaps A suicidal burthen on itself. Dawes' Athenia of Damascus. CURIOSITY. 167 CURIOSITY. I loathe that low vice, Curiosity. Byron's Don Juan. Since that first fatal hour when Eve, With all the fruits of Eden blest, Save only one, rather than leave That one unknown, lost all the rest. xMoore's Loves of the Angels. It reign' d in Eden, in that heavy hour When the arch-tempter sought our mother's bower, In thrilling charms her yielding heart assail'd, And even o'er dread Jehovah's word prevail'd. Sprague's Curiosity. 'Tis Curiosity — who hath not felt Its spirit, and before its altar knelt ? Sprague's Curiosity. Be it a bonfire, or a city's blaze, The gibbet's victim, or the nation's gaze, A female atheist, or a learned dog, A monstrous pumpkin, or a mammoth hog, A murder, or a muster ; — 't is the same, Life's follies, glories, griefs, — all feed the flame. Sprague's Curiosity Sport drops his ball, Toil throws his hammer by, Thrift breaks a bargain off, to please his eye. Sprague's Curiosity. How many a noble art, now widely known, Owes its young impulse to this power alone ! Sprague's Curiosity. As down the pane the rival rain-drops chase, Curious he '11 watch to see which wins the race ; And let two dogs beneath his window fight, r He '11 shut his Bible to enjoy the sight. Sprague's Curiosity. 1 68 CURSES - MALEDICTIONS. How thro' the buzzing crowd he threads his way, To catch the flying rumours of the day. Sprague's Curiosity, CURSES — MALEDICTIONS. May all th' infections that the sun sucks up From bogs, fens, flats, upon him fall, and make him By inch-meal a disease ! Shakspeare. Poison be their drink ! Gall, worse than gall, the daintiest meat they taste ! — Their softest touch as smart as lizard's stings ! Their music frightful as the serpent's hiss ! And boding screech-owls make their concerts full ! Shakspeare. May sorrow, shame, and sickness overtake her, And all her beauties, like my hopes, be blasted ! Rowe. Let the world grow dark, That the extinguish'd sun may hide thy shame ! Aaron Hill. And when life declines, May thy sure heirs stand titt'ring round thy bed, And, ush'ring in their fav'rites, burst thy locks, And fill their laps with gold, till want and care With joy depart, and cry, " We want no more !" Shenstone. May the grass wither from thy feet ! the woods Deny thee shelter ! earth a home ! the dust A grave ! and heaven her God J Byron's Cain. So let him stand, through ages yet unborn, Fix'd statue on the pedestal of scorn ! Byron's Curse of Minerva. CUSTOM - HABIT. 169 May screaming night-fiends, hot in recreant gore, Rive their strain'd fibres to their heart's rank core, Till startled conscience heap, in wild dismay, Convulsive curses on the source of day ! Robert Treat Paine. But curses are like arrows shot upright, That oftentimes on our own heads do light : And many times ourselves in rage prove worst ; The fox ne'er better thrives than when accurst. CUSTOM— HABIT. All habits gather by unseen degrees, As brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas. Dryden's Ovid, Custom's the world's great idol we adore, And, knowing this, we seek to know no more. What education did at first conceive, Our ripen'd eye confirms us to believe. POMFRET. A custom More honour'd in the breach than the observance. SlIAKSPEARE. How use doth breed a habit in a man ! Shakspeare. Custom does often reason overrule, And only serves for reason to the fool. Rochester. Custom forms us all ; Our thoughts, our morals, our most fix'd belief, Are consequences of our place of birth. Aaron Hill. Custom, 't is true, a venerable tyrant, O'er servile man extends her blind dominion. Thomson. 15 1 TO DANCING - DANGER - PERIL. My very chains and I grew friends, So much a long communion tends To make us what we are ; even I Regain'd my freedom with a sigh. Byron's Prisoner of Chillon. As custom arbitrates, whose shifting sway Our life and manners must alike obey. Byron's Hints from Horace. DANCING. — (See Ball.) DANGER— PERIL. The absent danger greater still appears ; And less he fears, who 's near the thing he fears. Daniel. From a safe port, 't is easy to give counsel. Shakspeare. We 've scotch'd the. snake, not kill'd it, She'll close, and be herself; while our poor malice Remains in danger of her former tooth. Shakspeare. For he that stands upon a slippery place, Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up. Shakspeare. Let terror strike slaves mute ; Much danger makes great hearts most resolute. Marston. What is danger More than the weakness of our apprehension ? A poor cold part o' the blood ; whom takes it hold of? Cowards and wicked livers ; valiant minds Were made the masters of it. Beaumont and Fletcher. DAY -MORNING -NIGHT, &c. 171 Our dangers and delights are near allies.; From the same stem the rose and prickle rise. Aleyn. But there are human natures so allied Unto the savage love of enterprise, That they will seek for peril as a pleasure. Byron. DAY— MORNING— NIGHT, &c. Dark night that from the eye its function takes, The ear more quick of apprehension makes ; Wherein it doth impair the seeing sense, It pays the hearing double recompense. Shakspeare. The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve. Shakspeare. Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tip-toe on the misty mountain tops. Shakspeare. But look ! the moon, in russet mantle clad, Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill. Shakspeare. Oft till the star, that rose at evening bright, Towards heaven's descent had sloped his westerning wheel Milton. Now came still evening on, and twilight grey Had in her sober livery all things clad : Silence accompanied ; for beasts and birds, They to their grassy couch, these to their nests Were sunk, all but the woeful nightingale. Milton's Paradise Lost. Twilight, short arbiter 'twist day and night. Milton's Paradise Lost. 172 DAY -MORNING -NIGHT, &c. Sweet is the breath of morn ; her rising sweet, With charm of earliest birds. Milton's Paradise Lost The sun had Jong since, in the lap Of Thetis, taken out his nap ; And, like a lobster boil'd, the moon From black to red began to turn. Butler's Hudibras The morning lark, the messenger of day, Saluted with her song the morning grey ; And soon the sun arose with beams so bright, That all th' horizon laugh'd, to see the joyous sight. Dryden. See ! the night w T ears away, and cheerful morn. All sweet and fresh, spreads from the rosy east ; Fair nature seems reviv'd, and even vaj heart Sits light and jocund at the day's return. This dead of night, this silent hour of darkness, Nature for rest ordain'd, and soft repose. Rowe. Rowe. O, treach'rous night ! Thou lend'st thy ready veil to every treason, And teeming mischiefs thrive beneath thy shade ! Aaron Hill. The waking dawn, When night-fallen dews, by day's warm courtship won, From reeking roses climb'd to kiss the sun ; Nature, new-blossom'd, shed her colours round ; The dew-bent primrose kiss'd the breeze-swept ground. Aaron Hill. — The approach of night, The skies yet blushing with departing light, When falling dews with spangles deck the glade, And the low sun has lengthen'd every shade. P0P£. DAY - MORNING - NIGHT, &c. 173 Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round, And, while the bubbling and loud-hissing urn Throws up a steamy column, and the cup That cheers but not inebriates, waits on each, So let us welcome peaceful evening in. Cowper's Task. Night, sable goddess, from her ebon throne, In rayless majesty now stretches forth Her leaden sceptre o'er a slumbering world. Young's Night Thoughts. Now the sun, so faintly glancing O'er the western hills his ray; Evening shadows quick advancing, Triumph o'er the fading day. Cobb. Day glimmer'd in the east, and the white moon Hung like a vapour in the cloudless sky. Rogers's Italy. The quiet night, now dappling, 'gan to wane, Dividing darkness from the dawning main. Byron's Island. The morn is up again, the dewy morn, With breath all incense, and with cheek all bloom, Laughing the cJouds away with playful scorn, And living as if earth contain'd no tomb — And glowing into day. Byron's Childe Harold. Night wanes — the vapours, round the mountains curl'd, Melt into morn, and light awakes the world. Byron's Lara. All was so still, so soft, in earth and air, You scarce, would start, to meet a spirit there ; Secure that nought of evil could delight To walk in such a scene, on such a night ! Byron's Lara. 15* 174 DAY -MORNING -NIGHT, &c. The night Shows stars and women in a better light. Byron's Don Juan. Blest power of sunshine ! genial day ! What balm, what life is in thy ray ! To feel thee is such real bliss, That, had the world no joy but this, To sit in sunshine calm and sweet — It were a world too exquisite For man to leave it for the gloom, The deep, cold shadow of the tomb ! Moore's Lalla JRooJch. It was an evening bright and still As ever blush'd on wave or bower, Smiling from heaven, as if nought ill Could happen in so sweet an hour. Moore's Loves of the Angels. Soft as a bride, the rosy dawn From dewy sleep doth rise, And, bath'd in blushes, hath withdrawn The mantle from her eyes ; And, with her orbs dissoiv'd in dew, Bends like an angel softly through The blue-pavilion'd skies. Mrs. Amelia B. Welby. O Twilight ! spirit that dost render birth To dim enchantments — melting heaven to earth — Leaving on craggy hills and running streams A softness like the atmosphere of dreams. Mrs. Norton's Dream How calmly sinks the setting sun ! Yet twilight lingers still; And, beautiful as dream of heaven, It slumbers on the hill. G. D. Prentice. DEATH -GRAVE. 175 'T is midnight's holy hour — and silence now Is brooding, like a gentle spirit, o'er The still and pulseless world. G. D. Prentice. Ere the evening lamps are lighted, And, like phantoms grim and tall, Shadows from the fitful fireside Dance upon the parlour wall. H. W. Longfellow. Night's starry host gather'd in brightness high, And not a cloud darken' d the shining sky ; The moon rode by, and all her glittering band Bath'd in a flood of light the smiling land. Mrs. C. H. W. Esling. The sun now rests upon the mountain tops. Carlos Wilcox. The hour of melancholy, mirth, and love. Mrs. Brooks- The busy world was still, the solemn moon Smil'd forth her silvery beauty ; and the stars, Like living diamonds in a sea of glass, Danc'd in the sapphire canopy of heaven. P. B. Elder. The king of day had dipp'd his weary head Within old father Ocean's billowy bed, And " twilight grey" had spread its dusky veil O'er all terrestrial objects, hill and dale. J. T. Watson. DEATH — GRAVE. Death is a fearful thing : The wearied and most loathed earthly life, That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment Can lay on nature, is a Paradise To what we fear of death ! Shakspeare. 176 DEATH -GRAVE. Is it not better to die willingly, Than linger till the glass be all outrun ? Spenser. Imperious Caesar, dead and turn'd to clay, Might stop a hole, to keep the wind away : O ! that the earth, which kept the world in awe, Should patch a wall, to expel the Winter's flaw ! Shakspeare. Death lies on her, like an untimely frost Upon the sweetest flower of all the field. Shakspeare. Can storied urn, or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath? Can honour's voice provoke the silent dust, Or flatt'ry soothe the dull cold ear of death? Gray's Elegy. Death, grim death Will fold me in his leaden arms, and press Me close to his cold, clayey breast. CONGREVE. The sceptred king, the burthen'd slave, The humble and the haughty, die ; The rich, the poor, the base, the brave, In dust, without distinction, lie. Death is the crown of life : Were death denied, poor man would live in vain. Death wounds to cure ; we fall, we rise, we reign ; Spring from our fetters, fasten to the skies, Where blooming Eden withers from our sight. This king of terrors is the prince of peace. Young's Night Thoughts. The knell, the shroud, the mattock, and the grave, The deep, damp vault, the darkness, and the worm ! Young's Night Thoughts I "OMB-CUTTER DEATH -GRAVE. 177 A death-bed 's a detector of the heart : Here tired dissimulation drops her mask, Through life's grimace that mistress of the scene ; Here real and apparent are the same. Young's Night Thoughts. O death, all eloquent ! you only prove What dust we dote on, when 't is man we love. Pope's Eloisa. Death, when unmask'd, shows us a friendly face, And is a terror only at a distance. ^Goldsmith. The prince, who kept the world in awe, The judge, whose dictate ilx'd the law, The rich, the poor, the great, the small, Are levell'd : death confounds them all. . Gay's Fables. There shall the yew her sable branches spread, And mournful cypress rear her fringed head ; From thence shall thyme and myrtle send perfume, And laurel evergreen o'ershade the tomb. Gay's Dione. Leaves have their times to fall, And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath, And stars to set — but all, Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O death ! Mrs. Hemans. Let him who crawls, enamour'd of decay, Cling to his couch, and sicken years away, Heave his thick breath, and shake his palsied head ;— Ours the fresh turf, and not the fev'rish bed ; While, gasp by gasp, he falters forth his soul, Ours with one pang — one bound — escapes control. Byron's Corsair. How peaceful and how powerful is the grave ! Byron. 178 DEATH -GRAVE. Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green, That host, with their banners, at sunset were seen ; Like the leaves of the forest, when Autumn hath blown, That host, on the morrow, lay wither'd and strown ! Byron. And dull the film. along his dim eye grew. Byron's Lara. Yes, this was once ambition's airy hall ; The dome of thought — the palace of the soul. Byron's Childe Harold, Death shuns the wretch who fain the blow would meet. Byron's Don Juan. At times, both wish'd for and implor'd, At times sought with self-pointed sword, And welcome in no shape. Byron's Mazeppa. What shall he be ere night ? — Perchance a thing O'er which the raven flaps his funeral wing ! Byron's Corsair. Oh God! it is a fearful thing To see the human soul take wing ! Byron's Prisoner of Chillon. How sweetly could I lay my head Within the cold grave's silent breast, Where sorrow's tears no more are shed, No more the ills of life molest! Moore O, grief beyond all other griefs, when fate First leaves the young heart lone and desolate, In the wide world, without that only tie, For which it wish'd to live, or fear'd to die ! Moore's Lalla Rookh. Like one who draws the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams. W. C. Bryant. DEATH - GRAVE. 179 Yet why should death be link'd with fear ? A single breath — a low-drawn sigh — Can break the ties that bind us here, And waft the spirit to the sky. Mrs. A. B. Weley. There lay the warrior and the son of song, And there — in silence till the judgment-day— The orator, whose all-persuading tongue Had mov'd the nations with resistless sway. Mrs. Norton's Dream. Ah ! it is sad when one thus link'd departs ! When Death, that mighty sev'rer of true hearts, Sweeps through the halls so lately loud in mirth, And leaves pale Sorrow weeping by the hearth ! Mrs. Norton's Dream. Oh ! what a shadow o'er the heart is flung, When peals the requiem of the lov'd and young ! W. G. Clark. Oh, there is a sweetness in beauty's close, Like the perfume scenting the wither'd rose ! J. G. Percival. His few surviving comrades saw His smile when rang their proud hurra, And the red field was won ; They saw in death his eyelids close Calmly, as to a night's repose, Like flowers at set of sun. FlTZ-GREEN HALLECK, All at rest now — all dust ! — wave flows on wave, But the' sea dries not ! What to us the grave ? It brings no real homily ; we sigh, Pause for a while, and murmur, "All must die '" Then rush to pleasure, action, sin, once more, Swell the loud tide, and fret unto the shore ! The New Timon. 180 DECAY. And death is terrible — the tear, The groan, the knell, the pall, the bier, And all we know, or dream, or fear, Of agony, are his ! FlTZ-GREEN HALLECK Here may we muse at this lone midnight hour, When thoughts steal on us, softly as the tread Of ghostly forms, from yew or cypress bower, Around the gloomy mansions of the dead. W. C. Lodge. In the deep stillness of that dreamless state Of sleep, that knows no waking joys again. W. C. Lodge. And Death himself, that ceaseless dun, Who waits on all, yet waits/or none. Hon. Nicholas Biddle. Methinks it were no pain to die On such an eve, when such a sky O'ercanopies the w r est; To gaze my fill on yon calm deep, And, like an infant, sink to sleep On earth, my mother's breast! DECAY. It is sad To see the light of beauty wane away, Know eyes are dimming, bosoms shrivelling, feet Losing their springs, and limbs their lily roundness ; But it is worse to feel our heart-spring gone, To lose hope, care not for the coming thing, And feel all things go to decay with us. Bailey's Festus. DECEIT - HYPOCRISY. 181 Before decay's effacing fingers Have swept the lines where beauty lingers. Byron's Giaour. Such is the aspect of this shore : 'T is Greece, but living Greece no more. Byron's Giaour. The very iron, rock, and steel, Impervious as they now appear, The gnawing tooth of Time must feel, And waste with each succeeding year. J. T. Watson. DECEIT — HYPOCRISY. Oh, what authority and show of truth Can cunning sin cover itself withal ! The Devil can cite scripture for his purpose. An evil soul producing holy witness, Is like a villain with a smiling face, A goodly apple, rotten at the core. To the common people, How he did seem to dive into their hearts, With humble and familiar courtesy ! Notes of sorrow, out of tune, are worse Than priests and fanes that lie. Shakspeare. Shakspeare. Shakspeare. Shakspeare. Why, I can smile, and murder while I smile ; And cry content to that which grieves my heart ; And wet my cheek with artificial tears ; And frame my face to all occasions. Sh vkspeare. 16 182 DECEIT - HYPOCRISY. Cries out upon abuses, seems to weep Over his country's wrongs ; and, by this face, This brow of seeming justice, he did win The hearts of all that he did angle for. Shakspeare. There is no vice so simple, but assumes Some mark of virtue on its outward parts. Shakspeare. You vow, and swear, and superpraise my parts, When, I am sure, you hate me in your hearts. Shakspeare A creature of amphibious nature, On land a beast, a fish in water ; That always preys on grace or sin, A sheep without, a wolf within. Butler's Hudibras. An "ignis fatuus" that bewitches, And leads men into pools and ditches. Butler's Hudibras. As thistles wear the softest down, To hide their prickles till they're, grown, And then declare themselves, and tear Whatever ventures to come near : So a smooth knave does greater feats Than one that idly rails and threats, And all the mischief that he meant, Does, like the rattlesnake, prevent. Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer, And, without sneering, teach the rest to sneer ; Willing to wound, and yet afraid to strike, Just hint a fault, and hesitate dislike. Before her face her handkerchief she spread, To hide the flood of tears she did not shed. Butler Pope. Pope. DECEIT - HYPOCPJSY. 183 'T is not my talent to conceal my thoughts, Or carry smiles and sunshine in my face, While discontent sits heavy at my heart. Addison's Caio. O what a tangled web we weave, When first we practise to deceive ! Scott's Marmion. Thy love is lust, thy friendship all a cheat, Thy smiles hypocrisy, thy words deceit. Byron to Southey. You're wrong: — he was the mildest manner'd man That ever scuttled ship, or cut a throat ! With such true breeding of a gentleman, You never could divine his real thought. Byron's Don Tuan. Even innocence itself hath many a wile. Byron's Don Juan. Of all who flock' d to swell or see the show, Who car'd about the corpse ? The funeral Made the attraction, and the black the wo ; There throbb'd not there one heart that pierc'd the pall. Byron's Vision of Judgment. To sigh, yet feel no pain, To weep, yet know not why, To sport an hour with beauty's chain, Then cast it idly by. To kneel at many a shrine, Yet lay the heart on none. Their friendship is a lurking snare, Their honour but an idle breath, Their smile, the smile that traitors wear, Their love is hate, their life is death. Moore. Moore. W. G. Simms. 1 84 DECLARATION - PROPOSAL. An open foe may prove a curse, But a pretended friend is worse. Gay's Fables. For when a smiling face doth cloak deceit, It is our duty to expose the cheat. J. T. Watson, DECLARATION — PROPOSAL. Thou — thou hast metamorphos'd me ; Made me neglect my studies, lose my time, War with good counsel, set the world at nought, Made me with musing weak, heart-sick with thought. Shakspeare. Helen, I love thee ; by my life I do : I swear by that, which I will lose for thee, To prove him false, that says I love thee not. Perdition seize my soul, but I do love thee Shakspeare. Shakspeare. On your hand, that pure altar,! vow, Though I 've look'd, and have lik'd, and have left, That I never have loved till now ! M. G. Lewis. I know thou doom'st me to despair, Nor wilt, nor canst relieve me ; But, ah, Eliza, hear my prayer, — For pity's sake, forgive me ! By day or night, in weal or wo, This heart, no longer free, Must bear the love it cannot show, And, silent, ache for thee. Burns. Byron. DEFIANCE. ISo I court others in verse, but I love thee in prose, They have my whimsies, but thou hast my heart. Prior. Why should I blush to own I love ? — 'T is love that rules the realms above ; Why should I blush to say to all, That virtue holds my heart in thrall? Henry Kirk White. DEFIANCE. I do defy him, and spit at him ; Call him — a slanderous coward, and a villain. Shakspeake. Must I give way and room to your rash choler ? Shall I be frighted, when a madman stares ? Shakspeare. Torture thou may'st, but thou shalt ne'er despise me ; The blood will follow where the knife is driven ; The flesh will quiver where the pincers tear ; And sighs and cries by nature grow on pain : But these are foreign to the soul ; not mine The groans that issue, or the tears that fall ; They disobey me ;— on the rack I scorn thee ! Young. He halts, and turns with clenched hand, And shouts of loud defiance pours, And shakes his gauntlet at the towers. Scott's Marmion Come one, come all — this rock shall fly From its firm base as soon as I. Scott's Marmion. ]tf* 186 DELAY- PROCRASTINATION. DELAY — PROCRASTINATION. O, my good lord, that comfort comes too late : 'T is like a pardon after execution ; That gentle physic, given in time, had cur'd me ; But now I 'm past all comfort here but prayers. Shakspeare, Your gift is princely, but it comes too late, And falls like sunbeams on a blasted blossom. Shun delays, they breed remorse ; Take thy time, while time is lent thee ; Creeping snails have weakest force ; Fly their fault, lest thou repent thee. Good is best when soonest wrought, Lingering labours come to nought. Suckling Southwell. Be wise to-day : 't is madness to defer ; Next day the fatal precedent will plead ; Thus on till wisdom is push'd out of life. Young's Night Thoughts. Procrastination is the thief of time : Year after year it steals, till all are fled, And to the mercies of a moment leaves The vast concerns of an eternal scene. Young's Night Thoughts. Think not to-morrow still shall be your care ; Alas ! to-morrow like to-day will fare. Reflect that yesterday's to-morrow 's o'er, — Thus one " to-morrow," one " to-morrow" more, Have seen long years before them fade away, And still appear no nearer than to-day. Gifford's Perseus. DELICACY. 187 Oh! how many deeds Of deathless virtue, and immortal crime, The world had wanted, had the actor said I will do this to-morrow! Lord John Russell. DELICACY. Like the lily, That once was mistress of the field, and flourish'd, I '11 hang my head, and perish. Shakspeare. Early, bright, transient, chaste as morning dew, She sparkled. Young's Night Thoughts. May the snowy wings Of innocence and love protect thee ! Akenside. Ah! little will the lip reveal Of all the burning heart may feel. Miss L. E. Landon. Her eye may grow dim, and her cheek may grow pale, But tell they not both the same fond tale ? — Love's lights have fled from her eye and her cheek, To burn and die on the heart which they seek. Miss L. E. Landon She bore herself So gently, that the lily on its stalk Bends not so easily its dewy head. Sweet beauty sleeps upon thy brow, And floats before my eyes; As meek and pure as doves art thou, Or beings of the skies. J. G. Percival. Robert Morris 188 DESIGN -INTENTION -DESPAIR. I dare not think, thou lovely maid, Thy soul-lit beauty e'er shall fade ; Sure, life and love must stay with thee, Chain'd by thy potent witchery. Mrs. Child DESIGN — INTENTION. I do believe you think what now you speak, But what we do determine oft we break : Purpose is but the slave to memory, Of violent birth, but poor validity ; Which now, like fruits unripe, sticks on the tree, But fall, unshaken, when they mellow be. Shakspeare. He that intends well, yet deprives himself Of means to put his good thoughts into deeds, Deceives his purpose of the due reward. Beaumont and Fletcher. When any great designs thou dost intend, Think on the means, the manner, and the end. Denham. When men's intents are wicked, their guilt haunts them, But when they're just, they're arm'd, and nothing daunts them. Middleton. Honest designs Justly resemble our devotions, Which we must pay, and wait for the reward. Sir R. Howard. DESPAIR. It were all one, That I should love a bright particular star, And think to wed it. Shakspeare, DESPAIR. 89 Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased; Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow ; Raze out the written tablets of the brain ; Cleanse the foul bosom of that perilous stuff, Which weighs upon the heart? Shakspeare. Despair Gives courage to the weak. Resolv'd to die, He fears no more, but rushes on his foes, And deals his deaths around. Somervile's Chase. Lean abstinence, pale grief, and haggard care, The dire attendants of forlorn despair. Pattison. So farewell, hope, and with hope farewell fear ; Farewell remorse ; all good to me is lost ; Evil, be thou my good ! Milton's Paradise Lost. My loss is such as cannot be repair'd, And to the wretched, life can be no mercy. Drtoen. Talk not of comfort — 't is for lighter ills ; I will indulge my sorrow, and give way To all the pangs and fury of despair. Addison's Cato. But desperate is their doom whom doubt has driven To censure fate, and pious hope forego ; Like yonder blasted boughs by lightning riven, Perfection, beauty, life, they never know, But frown on all who pass, a monument of woe. Beattie's Minstrel. Mine after-life ! what is mine after-life ? My day is closed ! the gloom of night is come ! A hopeless darkness settles o'er my fate ! Joanna Bailue. 190 DESPAIR. Alas ! the breast that inly bleeds, Has nought to fear from outward blow : Who falls from all he knows of bliss, Cares little into what abyss. Byron's Giaour, Go, when the hunter's hand hath wrung From forest cave her shrieking young, And calm the lonely lioness — But soothe not, mock not my distress ! Byron's Giaour* Despair defies even despotism ; there is That in my heart would make its way thro' hosts With levell'd spears. Byron's Two Foscari. My mother earth ! And thou, fresh breaking day ! and you, ye mountains ! Why are ye beautiful ! I cannot love ye ! And thou, the bright eye of the universe, That open'st over all, and unto all Art a delight — thou shin'st not on my heart ! Byron's Manfred. My solitude is solitude no more, But peopled with the furies ; I have gnash'd My teeth in darkness till returning morn, Then curs'd myself at sunset ! I have pray'd For madness as a blessing — 't is denied me ! Byron's Manfred. They, who have nothing more to fear, may well Indulge a smile at that which once appall'd, As children at discover'd bugbears. Byron's Sardanajjatus. Hope is a willing slave — despair is free. R. Dawes. One long, loud shriek sweli'd on the air, The thrilling cry of dark despair, And all was sad and silent there. Mrs. C. H. W. Eslino. DESTINY - FATE - NECESSITY. 19] She stands, as stands the stricken deer Check'd midway in the fearful chase, When bursts upon his eye and ear The gaunt, grey robber, baying near Between it and its hiding-place — While still behind, with yell and blow, Sweeps, like a storm, the coming foe. J. G. Whittdsr. The fond illusions I have cherish' d — Anticipations once so fair — Calmly I hear they all have perish' d— But 't is the calmness of despair. What next ? I know not, do not care — Come pain or pleasure, weal or woe,-~ There 's nothing which I cannot bear, Since I have borne this withering blow. J. T. Watson. J. T. Watson. DESTINY — FATE — NECESSITY. Who, then, can strive with strong necessity, That holds the world in his still changing state ? Spenser's Fairy Queen. What fate imposes, men must needs abide ; It boots not to resist both wind and tide. Shakspeare. 'T is necessity To which the gods must yield ; and I obey, Till I redeem it by some glorious way. Beaumont and Fletcher. Alas ! what stay is there in human state, Dr who can shun inevitable fate ? The doom was written, the decree was past, Ere the foundations of the world were cast. Drtden. 192 DESTRUCTION -RUIN. Fatal necessity is never known, Until it strike ; and, till that blow be come, Who falls, is by false visions overthrown. Lord Brooke When fear admits no hope of safety, then Necessity makes dastards valiant men. Herrick. Well, we]l — the world must turn upon its axis, And all mankind turn with it, heads or tails, And live and die, make love, and pay our taxes And, as the veering wind shifts, shift our sails. Byron's Don Juan, We are the victims of its iron rule, The warm and beating human heart its tool ; And man, immortal, god-like, but its fool. Miss Landon Fate is above us all ; We struggle, but what matters our endeavour ? Our doom is gone beyond our own recall ; May we deny or mitigate it ? — Never ! Miss Landon. While warmer souls command, nay, make their fate, Thy fate made thee, and forc'd thee to be great. Moore. DESTRUCTION — RUIN. See the wide waste of all-devouring years ! How Rome her own sad sepulchre appears ! With nodding arches, broken temples spread ! The very tombs now vanish'd, like their dead ! Pope's Moral Essays They tore away some weeds, 't is true, But all the flowers were ravish'd too. Moore. DETERMINATION -RESOLUTION, &c. 193 High towers, fair temples, goodly theatres, Strong walls, rich porches, princely palaces, Fine streets, brave houses, sacred sepulchres, Sure gates, sweet gardens, stately galleries — All these, (Oh, pity !) now are turn'd to dust, And overgrown with black Oblivion's rust. Spenser's Fairy Queen. Their sceptres broken and their swords in rust. Byron's Childe Harold, Where her high steeples whilom used to stand, On which the lordly falcon wont to tower, There now is but a heap of lime and sand, For the screech-owl to build her baleful bower. Spenser's Ruins of Time, DETERMINATION — RESOLUTION, &c. Let come what will, I mean to bear it out, And either live with glorious victory, Or die with fame, renown'd for chivalry. He is not worthy of the honey-comb, That shuns the hive, because the bees have stings. Shakspeare. Experience teacheth us That resolution's a sole help at need. Shakspearb Muse not that I thus suddenly proceed ; For what I will, I will — and there 's an end. Shakspeare. Although The air of Paradise did fan the house, And angels offic'd all, I will be gone. Shakspeare. I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape, And bid me hold my peace. Shakspeare. 17 J 94 DETRACTION - DINNER - DISAPPOINTMENT. All the soul Of man is resolution, which expires Never, from valiant men, till their last breath ; And then 't is with it like a flame extinguish' d For want of matter — it does not die, but Rather ceases to live. Entice the sun From his ecliptic line — he shall obey Your beck, and wander from his sphere, ere I From my resolves. Chapman. Baron. Men make resolves, and pass into decrees The motions of the mind : with how much ease, In such resolves, doth passion make a flaw, And bring to nothing what was rais'd to law ! Churchill. DETRACTION. — (See Calumny.) DINNER. — (See Appetite.) DISAPPOINTMENT. My May of life Is fallen in the sere, the yellow leaf; And that which should accompany old age, As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, I must not look to have, but, in their stead, Curses, not loud, but deep, mouth-honour, breath, Which the poor heart would fain deny, but dare not. Shaksfeare. Things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour. Shakspeare. DISAPPOINTMENT. 195 While in the dark on thy soft hand I hung, And heard the tempting syren in thy tongue, What flames, what darts, what anguish I endur'd ! But when the candle enter'd, I was cur'd. From Martial. Impell'd with steps unceasing to pursue Some fleeting good, that mocks me with the view, That, like the circle bounding earth and skies, Allures from far, yet, as I follow, flies. Goldsmith's Traveller. Those high-built hopes that crush us by their fall. Campbell. Successful love may sate itself away, The wretched are the faithful ; 't is their fate, To have all feelings, save the one, decay, And every passion into one dilate. Byron's Lament of Tasso. Thus ever fade my fairy dreams of bliss. Byron's Corsair. I loved her well ; I would have loved her better, Had love been met with love : as 't is, I leave her To brighter destinies, if so she deems them. Byron's Heaven and Earth. O ! ever thus from childhood's hour, I 've seen my fondest hopes decay ; I never lov'd a tree or flower, But 't was the first to fade away ! - Moore's Lalla Roolch. /Oh ! that a dream so sweet, so long enjoy'd,' x , XShould be so sadly, cruelly destro yed ! _ ^X Moore's Lalla Bookh. The hopes my soul had cherish'd Have wither'd one by one, And, tho' life's flowers have perish'd, I 'm left to linger on ! 17 106 DISAPPOINTMENT. Such gather' d dust, when they had hop'd to see The richest fruits ; the buds that promis'd fair Were early blasted, or but grew to be A mockery — a harvest of despair. W. C. Lodge. I will love her no more — it is heathenish thus To bow to an idol that bends not to us ; Which heeds not, which hears not, which recks not for aughf That the worship of years to its altar has brought. C. F. Hoffman. Hope, cheated too often when life 's in its spring, From the bosom that nurs'd it for ever takes wing ; And memory comes, as its promises fade, To brood o'er the havoc that passion has made. C. F. Hoffman. I knew not how I lov'd thee — no ! I knew it not till all was o'er — Until thy lip had told me so — Had told me I must love no more ! C. F. Hoffman. The conflict is over — the struggle is past, I have look'd — I have lov'd — I have worshipp'd my last ; And now back to the world, and let fate do her worst On the heart that for thee such devotion hath nurs'd. To thee its best feelings were trusted away, And life hath hereafter not one to betray. C. F. Hoffman. Ay, such is man's philosophy when woman is untrue, The loss of one but teaches him to make another do. Oh ! I am sick of this dark world, My heart, my best affections blighted, My sails of joy for ever furl'd, My dawning hopes so soon benighted. J. H. McIlvane. DISAPPOINTMENT. 197 The blighted prospects of an anxious life. Charles Sprague. We have cherish'd fair hopes, we have plotted brave schemes, We have liv'd till we find them illusive as dreams ; Wealth has melted like snow, that we grasp in our hand, And the steps we have climb'd have departed like sand. Epes Sargent. Farewell ! my life may wear a careless smile, My words may breathe the very soul of lightness ; But the touch'd heart must deeply feel the while, That life hath lost a portion of its brightness ; And woman's love shall never be a chain, To bind me to its nothingness again. Epes Sargent. The best enjoyment is half disappointment To that we mean, or would have in this world. Bailey's Festus. These were our hopes, but all our hopes are fled. Not every flower that blossoms Diffuses sweets around ; Not every scene hope gilds with light Will fair be found. Mrs. S. J. Hale. Bat it is past — bright, transient gleam Of sunshine in life's dreary waste ; Even as some half-remember'd dream Of happier times, — 't is past — 't is past ' As poison will sometimes cure poison, As a nail other nails will expel, This love you need not make a noise on, For another may do just as well. J. T. Watson J. T. Watson. DISCONTENT. — (See Contentment.) 17* 198 DISCRETION -DISEASE, &c. DISCRETION. — (See Caution.) DISEASE — HEALTH — PHYSICIAN, &c. There never yet was a philosopher, Who could endure the toothache patiently. Shakspeare By medicines life may be prolong'd, yet death Will seize the Doctor too. Shakspeare. About his shelves, A beggarly account of empty boxes, Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds, Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses, Were thinly scatter'd to make up a show. Shakspeare. Out, ye impostors ! Quack-salving, cheating mountebanks — your skill Is to make sound men sick, and sick men kill. Massinger. They are Made of all terms and shreds ; no less beliers Of great men's favours, than their own vile med'cines, Which they will utter upon monstrous oaths : Selling that drug for two pence, ere they part, Which they have valued at twelve crowns before. Ben Jonson. For men are brought to worse distresses, By taking physic, than diseases ; And therefore commonly recover, As soon as doctors give them over. Butler's Hudibras. DISEASE - HEALTH - PHYSICIAN. 199 Wounds by the wider wounds are heal'd, And poisons by themselves expell'd. Butler's Budibras All maladies, Of ghastly spasm, or racking torture, qualms Of heartsick agony ; all feverish kinds ; Convulsions, epilepsies, fierce catarrhs ; Intestine stone and ulcers : cholic pangs, Demoniac phrensy, moping melancholy, And moonstruck madness ; pining atrophy, Marasmus, and wide-wasting pestilence : Dropsies, and asthmas, and joint-racking rheums. Milton. Th' ingredients of health and long life are Great temperance, open air, Easy labour, little care. Sir Philip Sidney. The surest road to health, say what they will, Is never to suppose we shall be ill ; — Most of those evils we poor mortals know, From doctors and imagination flow. Churchill. Nor love, nor honour, wealth, nor power, Can give the heart a cheerful hour, When health is lost. Be timely wise ; With health all taste of pleasure flies. Next Gout appears, with limping pace, Which often shifts from place to place : From head to foot how swift he flies, And ev'ry joint and sinew plies ; Still working, when he seems supprest, A most tenacious, stubborn guest. Gay's Fables. Gay's Fables. J 200 DISEASE - HEALTH - PHYSICIAN. That dire disease, whose ruthless power Withers the beauty's transient flower. Goldsmith. Fever and pain, and pale, consumptive care. Goldsmith. The power of words, and soothing sounds, appease The raging pain, and lessen the disease. Francis' Horace. And then the sigh, he would suppress, Of fainting nature's feebleness, More slowly drawn, grew less and less. Byron's Prisoner of Chillon. A cheek, whose bloom Was as a mockery of the tomb, Whose tints as gently sunk away As a departing rainbow's ray. Byron's Prisoner of Chillon, Sickness sits cavern'd in his hollow eye. ' Byron. Oh ! there is sweetness in the mountain air, And life, which bloated ease may never hope to share. Byron's Childe Harold This is the way physicians mend or end us, Secundem artem: — but although we sneer In health — when sick, we call them to attend us, Without the least propensity to jeer. Byron's Don Juan Hers was a beauty that made sad the eye, Bright, but fast fading, like a twilight sky: The shape so finely, delicately frail, As form'd for climes unruffled by a gale ; The lustrous eye, through which look'd forth the soul, Bright and more brightly as it near'd the goal ; The waning beauty, the funereal charms, With which Death steals his bride into his arms. The N°w Timoju DISHONESTY -ROGUES -THIEVES. 201 Along her cheek the deep'ning red Told where the fev'rish hectic fed; And yet each token gave To the mild beauty of her face, A newer and a dearer grace, Unwarning of the grave. J. G. Whittier. DISHONESTY — ROGUES — THIEVES. Ay, sir ; to be honest, as this world goes, Is to be one pick'd out of ten thousand. Thieves for their robbery have authority, When judges steal themselves. Shakspeare. Shakspeare. I '11 example you with thievery : The sun 's a thief, and with his great attraction Robs the vast sea ; the moon 's an arrant thief, And her pale face she snatches from the sun ; The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves The moon into salt tears ; the earth 's a thief, That feeds and breeds by a composture stolen From general excrement ; each thing 's a thief. Shakspeare Nay, take my life and all, pardon not that ; You take my house, when you do take the prop That doth sustain my house : you take my life, When you do take the means whereby I live. Shaksfeare ; Lands, mortgag'd, may return, and more esteem'd ; But honesty once pawn'd is ne'er redeem'd. MlDDLETON . The man who pauses in his honesty Wants little of the villain. Martyx 202 DISPLEASURE. flogues as they were, themselves they would not rob — Vice in the heart some virtue always leaves — And, though they'd thank the public for a job, They, 'mongst themselves, were honourable thieves ! J. T. Watson. DISPLEASURE. If she do frown, 'tis not in hate of you — But rather to beget more love in you. If she do chide, 't is not to have you gone. O ! why rebuke you him, who loves you so ? Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe. Go, speak not to me ; even now begone ! No cloud Of anger shall remain, but peace assur'd, And reconcilement. Do not blast my springing hopes, That thy kind hand has planted in my soul. 'T is then the mind, from bondage free, And all its former weakness o'er, Asserts its native dignity, And scorns what folly priz'd before. Cartwricht. And to be wroth with one we love, Doth work like madness in the brain. Coleridge's Christabel. O, where are the bright-beaming glances I miss ! SlIAKSPEARE. Shakspeare. Shakspeare. Milton. Rowe. DISPOSITION - DISSENSION - DISTANCE. 203 Farewell! the tie is broken — thou, With all thou wert to me, hast parted ! N. P. Willis. Cast my heart's gold into the furnace flame, And, if it come not thence refln'd and pure, I '11 be a bankrupt to thy hope, and heaven Shall shut its gates on me ! Mrs. L. H. Sigourney. DISPOSITION. — (See Character.) DISSENSION. Alas ! how light a cause may move Dissension, between hearts that love ! Moore. A something light as air — a look — A word unkind, or wrongly taken — Oh ! love, that tempest never shook, A breath, a touch like this, hath shaken. Moore. Though light cause may move Dissensions between hearts that love, [s it not true, a cause as light May sever'd hearts again unite, [n truer, kindlier harmony Than felt before. DISTANCE. / T is distance lends enchantment to the view, I And clothes the mountain in its azure hue. Campbell's Pleasures of Hope. 204 DOMESTIC AFFAIRS -HOME. If earth's whole orb, by some due distanc'd eye, Were seen at once, her tow' ring Alps would sink, And levell'd Atlas leave an even sphere. Young's Night Thnighi DOMESTIC AFFAIRS — HOME. Home is the resort Of love, of joy, of peace, and plenty, where, Supporting and supported, polish'd friends, And dear relations mingle into bliss. Thomson's Seasons. Domestic happiness ! thou only bliss Of Paradise, that has surviv'd the fall ! Though few now taste thee unimpair'd and free, Or, tasting, long enjoy thee ; too infirm, Or too incautious, to preserve thy sweets Unmix'd with drops of bitter. Cowper's Task. His warm but simple home, where he enjoys, With her who shares his pleasure and his heart, Sweet converse. CowrER's Task. Man, through all ages of revolving time, Unchanging man, in every varying clime, Deems his own land of every land the pride, Belov'd by heaven o'er all the world beside : His home the spot of earth supremely blest, A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest. Around, in sympathetic mirth, Its tricks the kitten tries, The cricket chirrups on the hearth, The crackling faggot flies. J. Montgomery. Goldsmith. DOMESTIC AFFAIRS -HOME. 305 With secret course which no loud storms annoy, Glides the smooth current of domestic joy. Goldsmith's Traveller, Thou spot of earth, where from my bosom The first weak tones of nature rose, Where first I cropp'd the stainless blossom Of pleasure, yet unmix'd with woes ; Where, with my new-bom powers delighted, I tripp'd beneath a mother's hand — In thee the quenchless flame was lighted, That sparkles for my native land. Walker — From the Danish. 'T is sweet to hear the watch-dog's honest bark Bay deep-mouth'd welcome as we draw near home ; 'T is sweet to know there is an eye will mark Our coming, and look brighter when we come. Byron's Don Juan. He enter'd in his house — his home no more, For without hearts there is no home — and felt The solitude of passing his own door Without a welcome. Byron's Don Juan. The parted bosom clings to wonted home, If aught, that 's kindred, cheer the welcome hearth. Byron's Childe Harold. I've wander'd on thro' many a clime where flowers of beauty grew, Where all was blissful to the heart and lovely to the view— I 've seen them in their twilight pride, and in their dress of morn, But none appear'd so sweet to me as the spot where I was born. 'Mid pleasures and palaces tho' we may roam, , Be it ever so humble, there 's no place like home. J. H. Payne. 18 206 DOUBT - DRAMA - DREAMS - SLEEP. How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood, When fond recollection recalls them to view : — The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tangled wildwood, And every lov'd spot which my infancy knew. Samuel Woodwortii . A neat little cottage in front of a grove, Where in youth they first gave their young hearts up to love Was the solace of age, and to them doubly dear, As it call'd up the past with a smile or a tear. And oh, the atmosphere of home ! how bright It floats around us when we sit together, Under a bower of vine in summer weather, Or round the hearth-stone on a winter's night ! Park Benjamin. Who, that in distant lands has chanc'd to roam, Ne'er thrill' d with pleasure at the name of home ? J. T. Watson. DOUBT. — (See Credulity.) DRAMA. — (See Actors.) DREAMS — SLEEP. If I may trust the flatt'ring eye of sleep, My dreams presage some joyful news to-morrow. Shakspeare. Dreams are but children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy. Shakspeare. Thus have I had thee, as a dream will flatter > In sleep a king, but, waking, no such matter StlAKSPEARE. DREAMS -SLEEP. 207 Come sleep, O sleep ! the certain knot of peace, The baiting-place of wit, the balm of woe ; The poor man's wealth, the prisoner's release, The impartial judge between the high and low. Sir Philip Sidney. Dreams are but interludes, which fancy makes ; When monarch reason sleeps, this mimic wakes ; And many monstrous forms in sleep we see, Which neither were, nor are, nor e'er can be. Dryden. Tir'd nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep ! He, like the world, his ready visit pays, Where fortune smiles — the wretched he forsakes. Young's Night Thoughts. When tir'd with vain rotations of the day, Sleep winds us up for the succeeding dawn. Young's Night Tlwughts. Kind sleep affords The only boon the wretched mind can feel ; A momentary respite from despair. Murphy Oh ! thou best comforter of the sad heart, When fortune's spite assails — come, gentle sleep, The weary mourner soothe ! For well the art Thou know'st in soft forgetfulness to steep The eyes which sorrow taught to watch and weep. Mrs. Tighe's Psyche, Sleep is no servant of the will; It has caprices of its own : When courted most it lingers still, When most pursued 't is swiftly gone. Bowring — From the Spanish To each and all, a fair good-night, And rosy dreams, and slumbers light! / SCOTT. £08 DREAMS -SLEEP. Well may dreams present us fictions, Since our waking moments teem With such fanciful convictions, As make life itself a dream. Tho' 'tis all but a dream at the best, And still when happiest soonest o'er, Yet e'en in a dream to be blest, Is so sweet that I ask for no more. Campbell. Moore. Again in that accustom'd couch must creep, Where joy subsides, and sorrow sighs to sleep, And man, o'erlabour'd with his being's strife, Shrinks to that sweet forgetfulness of life : — There lie love's feverish hopes, and cunning's guile, Hate's working brain, and lull'd ambition's wile ; O'er each vain eye oblivion's pinions wave, And quench'd existence crouches in a grave. Byron's Lara. My slumbers — if I slumber — are not sleep, But a continuance of enduring thought, Which then I can resist not. Byron's Manfred. I would recall a vision which I dream'd, Perchance in sleep, for in itself a thought, A slumb'ring thought, is capable of years, And curdles a long life into one hour. Byron's Dream. And dreams in their development have breath, And tears, and torture, and the touch of joy ; They leave a weight upon our waking thoughts, They take a weight from off our waking toils ; They do divide our being; they become A portion of ourselves as of our time, And look like heralds of eternity. Byron's Dream. DRESS. The sweet siesta of a summer's day. Alas ! that dreams are only dreams ! That fancy cannot give A lasting beauty to those forms, Which scarce a moment live ! 209 Byron's Island. Rufus Dawes But ah! 'tis gone, 'tis gone, and never [Mine such waking bliss can be ; Oh ! I would sleep, would sleep for ever, Could I thus but dream of thee ! Frisbie. Where his thoughts on the pinions of fancy shall roam, And in slumber revisit his love and his home — W 7 hen the eyes of affection with tenderness gleam; — Oh ! who would awake from so blissful a dream ? W. Kelly. When sleep's calm wing is on my brow, And dreams of peace my spirit luh, Before me, like a misty star, That form floats dim and beautiful. G. D. Prentice Strange is the power of dreams ! who has not felt, W r hen in the morning light such visions melt, How the veil'd soul, tho' struggling to be free, Rul'd by that deep, unfathom'd mystery, Wakes, haunted by the thoughts of good or ill, Whose shading influence pursues us still ? Mrs. Norton's Dream. DRESS. — (See Apparel.) 18* 210 DRINKING -WINE, &c. DRINKING — WINE — TEMPERANCE, &c. A surfeit of the sweetest things The deepest loathing to the stomach brings. Shakspeare. Oh, that men should put an enemy in Their mouths, to steal away their brains ! that we Should, with joy, pleasance, revel and applause, Transform ourselves to beasts ! Shakspeare. They were red-hot with drinking ; So full of valour, that they smote the air For breathing in their faces ; beat the ground For kissing of their feet. Shakspeare. Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty ; For, in my youth, I never did apply Hot and rebellious liquors to my blood ; Nor did I, with unbashful forehead, woo The means of weakness and debility ; Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, Frosty but kindly. Shakspeare. In what thou eat'st and drinkest,seek from thence Due nourishment, not gluttonous delight ; So thou may'st live till, like ripe fruit, thou drop Into thy mother's lap, or be with ease Gather'd, not harshly pluck'd, for death mature. Milton. For swinish gluttony Ne'er looks to heaven amidst her gorgeous feast, But with besotted, base ingratitude Crams, and blasphemes his feeder. Milton's Comus. DRINKING -WINE &c. 211 If all the world Should, in a pet of Temperance, feed on pulse, Drink the clear stream, and nothing wear but frieze, Th' All-Giver would be unthank'd, would be unprais'd, Not half his riches known, and yet despis'd ; And we should serve him as a grudging master, And a penurious niggard of his wealth. Milton's C hu Nature, good cateress, Means her provision only to the good, That live according to her sober laws, And holy dictates of spare Temperance. Milton's ( omas The modest maid But coyly sips, and blushing drinks, abash'd. Somervile. He, who the rules of temperance neglects, From a good cause may produce vile effects. TUKE. If men would shun swoln fortune's ruinous blasts, Let them use temperance : nothing violent lasts. W. Strachey. The joy which wine can give, like smoky fires, Obscures their sight, whose fancy it inspires. Aaron Hill. 'T is to thy rules, O Temperance ! that we owe All pleasures that from health and strength can flow. Mary Chandler. Earth's coarsest bread, the garden's humblest roots, And scarce the summer's luxury of fruits, His short repast in humbleness supply With all a hermit's board would scarce deny ; But, while he shuns the grosser joys of sense, His mind seems nourish'd by that abstinence. Byron's Corsair. 212 DRINKING -WINE, &c. Man, being reasonable, must get drunk : The best of life is but intoxication ; Glory, the grape, love, gold, — in these are sunk The hopes of all men, and of every nation. Byron's Don Juan He spent his days in riot most uncouth, And vex'd with mirth the drowsy ear of night. Byron's Childe Harold. Which cheers the sad, revives the old, inspires The young, makes Weariness forget his toil, And Fear her danger ; opens a new world, When this, the present, palls. Byron's Sardanapalus. Fill the bright goblet, spread the festive board, Summon the gay, the noble, and the fair ; Thro' the loud hall, in joyous concert pour'd, Let mirth and music sound the dirge of Care. Scott. The gen'rous wine brings joy divine, And beauty charms our soul; I, while on earth, will still with mirth, Drink — beauty and the bowl ! E. McKey What cannot wine perform ? It brings to light The secret soul ; it bids the coward fight ; Gives being to our hopes, and from our hearts Drives out dull sorrow, and inspires new arts ; Even in th' oppressive grasp of poverty, It can enlarge, and bid the soul be free. Francis' Horace. Could ev'ry drunkard, ere he sits to dine, Feel in his head the dizzy fumes of wine, No more would Bacchus chain the willing soul, But loathing horror shun the poison'd bowl. Me ri vale's Clear chus. DUTY - EATING. 213 Thou sparkling bowl ! thou sparkling bowl ! Though lips of bards thy brim may press, And eyes of beauty o'er thee roll, And song and dance thy power confess — I will not touch thee ; for there clings A scorpion to thy side that stings. John Pierpont. Inspiring John Barleycorn, What dangers dost thou make us scorn ! 'Tis when the fancy-stirring bowl Doth wake its world of pleasure, That glowing fancies gild my soul, And life 's an endless treasure. Ah ! Brandy, Brandy ! bane of life, Spring of tumult, source of strife, Could I but half thy curses tell, The wise would wish thee safe in hell ! Blame not the bowl — the fruitful bowl, Whence wit and mirth and music spring, And amber drops Elysian roll, To bathe young Love's delighted wing. C. F. Hoffman DUTY.- (See Conscience.) EATING. — (See Appetite.) 2 1 4 ECHO - ECSTASY - TRANSPORT. ECHO. And ever-wakeful Echo here doth dwell, The nymph of sportive mockery, that still Hides behind every rock, in every dell, And softly glides, unseen, from hill to hill; No sound doth rise but mimic it she will — The sturgeon's splash repeating from the shore, Aping the boy's voice with a voice as shrill, The bird's low warble, and the thunder's roar, Always she watches there, each murmur telling o'er. Theodore S. Fay. ECSTASY — TRANSPORT. My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up. Shakspeare. O'ercome with wonder, and oppress'd with joy : — This vast profusion of extreme delight, Rising at once, and bursting from despair, Defies the aid of words, and mocks description. LlLLO. For joy like this, death were a cheap exchange. -ZEschylus' Agamemnon. Tune your harps, Ye angels, to that sound; and thou, my heart, Make room to entertain my flowing joy ! Dryden. She bids me hope ! and, in that charming word, Has peace and transport to my soul restor'd. Lord Lyttleton. My joy, my best belov'd, my only wish ! How shall I speak the transport of my soul ! Addison. EDUCATION" -WISDOx^l &c. 215 What sweet delirium o'er his hosom stole ! Beattie's Minstrel. No word was spoken, all was feeling — The silent transport of the heart. Levi Frisbie. ( )ne hour of such bliss is a life ere it closes — * T is one drop of fragrance from thousands of roses. P. M. Wetmore. EDUCATION — WISDOM — WIT, &c. Why did my parents send me to the schools, That I with knowledge might enrich my mind, Since the desire to learn first made men fools, And did corrupt the root of all mankind ? Spenser's Fairy Queen. Will is the prince, and Wit the counsellor, Which do for common good in council sit, And, when Wit is resolv'd, Will lends her power, To execute what is desir'd by Wit. Davies' Immortality of the Soul. Learning by study must be won ; 'T was ne'er entail'd from sire to son. Gay's Fables. For what is truth and knowledge, but a kind Of w r antonness and luxury of the mind ; A greediness and gluttony of the brain, That longs to eat forbidden fruit again ; And grows more desperate, like the worst diseases, Upon the nobler part, the mind, it seizes ? Butler. Besides 't is known he could speak Greek As naturally as pigs squeak. Butler's Hudibras 216 EDUCATION -WISDOM, &c. He was in logic a great critic, Profoundly skill'd in analytic ; He could distinguish and divide A hair 'twixt south and south-west side. Butler's Ifudibras. Learning, that cobweb of the brain, Profane, erroneous, and vain: A trade of knowledge, as replete > As others are with fraud and cheat; An art to encumber gifts and wit, And render both for nothing fit. Butler's Hudibras. The clouds may drop down titles and estates, Wealth may seek us — but wisdom must be sought. Young's Night Thoughts. For just experience tells in every soil, That those who think must govern those who toil, j Goldsmith's Traveller. Mix'd reason with pleasure, and wisdom with mirth. Goldsmith's Retaliation. Superior beings; when of late they saw A mortal man unfold all nature's law, Admir'd such wisdom in an earthly shape, And show'd a Newton, as we show an ape. Pope's Essay on Man. — Mingles with the friendly bowl The feast of reason, and the flow of soul. Pope. Love seldom haunts the breast where learning lies. Pope. A little learning is a dangerous thing ; Drink deep, or taste not, the Pierian spring ; For shallow draughts intoxicate the brain, A.nd drinking deeply sobers us again. Pope's Essay on Criticism. EDUCATION -WISDOM, &c. 217 True wit is nature to advantage drest, That oft was thought, but ne'er so well exprest, Something whose truth, convinc'd at sight, we find, That gives us back the image of our mind. PorE's Essay on Criticism. What is it to be wise? 'T is but to know how little can be known, To see all others' faults, and feel our own. Pope's Essay on Man. Nature and nature's laws lay hid in night ; God said, let Newton be! and all was light. Pope. O'er nature's laws God cast the veil of night, Out blaz'd a Newton's soul — and all was light. Aaron Hill. His very name a title-page, and next His life a commentary on the text. WoODBRIDGE. He learn'd the arts of riding, fencing, gunnery, And how to scale a fortress or — a nunnery. Byron's Don Juan. The languages — especially the dead, The sciences — and most of all the abstruse, The arts — at least all such as could be said To be the most remote from common use. Byron's Don Juan. And stoic Franklin's energetic shade, Rob'd in the lightning which his hand allay'd. Byron's Age of Bronze. Sorrow is knowledge ; they, who know the most, Must mourn the deepest o'er the fatal truth, The tree of knowledge is not that of life. Byron's Manfred. For Plato's love sublime, And all the wisdom of the Stagy rite, Enrich' d and beautified his studious mind. Wordsworth — From the Italian 19 218 EDUCATION -WISDOM, &c. For any man, with half an eye, What stands before him may espy; But optics sharp it needs, I ween, To see what is not to be seen. Trumbull's McFingal. On every point, in earnest or in jest, His judgment, and his prudence, and his wit, Were deem'd the very touchstone, and the test Of what was proper, graceful, just, and fit. J. H. Frere. The wish to know — the endless thirst, Which even by quenching is awak'd, And which becomes or bless'd or curs'd, As is the fount whereat 't is slak'd. Moore's Loves of the Angels. Extremes of fortune are true wisdom's test, And he 's of men most wise, who bears them best. Cumberland's Philemon. Lur'd by its charms, he sits and learns to trace The midnight wanderings of the orbs of space ; Boldly he knocks at wisdom's inmost gate, With nature counsels, and communes with fate. Charles Sprague. She had read Her father's well-fHl'd library with profit, And could talk charmingly ; then she could sing And play too, passably, and dance with spirit ; Yet she was knowing in all needle-work, And shone in dairy and in kitchen too, As in the parlour. Youth it instructs, old age delights, Adorns prosperity, and when Of adverse fate we feel the blights, 'Twill comfort and solace us then. J. N. Barker. J. T. Watson. EGOTISM -SELF. 219 EGOTISM — SELF. Tis with our judgments as our watches ; none Are just alike, yet each believes his own. Pope's Essay on Criticism. To observations which ourselves we make, We grow more partial for the observer's sake. Pope's Moral Essays, Whate'er the passion, knowledge, fame, or pelf, No one will change his neighbour with himself; The learn'd is happy nature to explore, The fool is happy that he knows no more ; The rich is happy in the plenty given, The poor contents him with the care of heaven. Pope's Moral Essays. The selfish heart deserves the pain it feels, More generous sorrow, while it sinks, exalts ; And conscious virtue mitigates the pang. Young's Night Thoughts. All men think all men mortal but themselves. Young's Night Thoughts. In other men we faults can spy, And blame the mote that dims their eye; Each little speck and blemish find ; To our own stronger errors blind. Gay's Fables. For none more likes to hear himself converse. Byron's Don Juan. What exile from himself can flee ? Byron's Childe Harold. Oh ! wad some power the giftie gie us, To see oursels as ithers see us ! Burns 220 ELEGANCE. Self is the medium least refin'd of all, Through which opinion's searching beams can fall : And, passing there, the clearest, steadiest ray, Will tinge its light, and turn its line astray. Moore. For, as his own bright image he survey'd, He fell in love with the fantastic shade ; And o'er the fair resemblance hung unmov'd, Nor knew, fond youth, it was himself he lov'd. From Ovid How often, in this cold and bitter w T orld, Is the warm heart thrown back upon itself ! Cold, careless are we of another's grief; We wrap ourselves in sullen selfishness. Miss L. E. Landon. ELEGANCE. The feeling heart, simplicity of life, And elegance, and taste. Trifles themselves are elegant in him. Thomson. Pope. To these resistless grace impart, That look of sweetness, form'd to please, That elegance, devoid of art, That dignity that 's lost in ease. Cartwright. With all the wonders of external grace, A person finely turn'd, a mould, a face, Where (union rare,) expression's lively force, With beauty's softest magic, holds discourse. Churchill. ELOQUENCE - ORATOR. 221 ELOQUENCE — ORATOR. And when she spake. Sweet words, like dropping honey, she did shed ; And 'twixt the pearls and rubies softly break A silver sound, that heavenly music seem'd to make. Spenser's Fairy Queen, When he speaks, The air, a charter'd libertine, is still, And the mute wonder lurketh in men's ears, To steal his sweet and honey'd sentences. And aged ears play truant at his tales, And younger hearings are quite ravished, So sweet and voluble is his discourse. Shakspeare. Shakspeare. Power above powers ! O heavenly eloquence ! That, with the strong rein of commanding words, Dost manage, guide, and master th' eminence Of men's affections, more than all their swords ! Daniel. His tongue Dropp'd manna, and could make the worst appear The better reason, to perplex and dash Maturest counsels. Milton's Paradise Lost, Men are more eloquent than women made, But women are more powerful to persuade. Oh! speak that again! Sweet as the syren's tongue those accents fall, And charm me to my ruin. Your words are like the notes of dying swans, Too sweet to last. 19* Randolph Southern Dryden. 222 ELOQUENCE - ORATOR. As I listen'd to thee, The happy hours pass'd by us unperceiv'd, So was my soul fix'd to the soft enchantment. Rowe, His words of learned length and thundering sound, Amaz'd the gazing rustics rang'd around ; And still they gaz'd, and still the wonder grew, That one small head should carry all he knew. Goldsmith's Deserted Village, Here rills of oily eloquence in soft Meanders lubricate the course they take. COWPER. — The grand debate, The popular harangue, the tart reply, The logic, and the wisdom, and the wit, And the loud laugh — I long to know them al COWPER. For rhetoric, he could not ope His mouth, but out there flew a trope. Butler's Hudibras. My listening powers Were aw'd, and every thought in silence hung, And wondering expectation. Akenside. Thy words had such a melting flow, And spoke of truth so sweetly well, They dropp'd like heaven's serenest snow, And all was brightness where they fell ! MOORE. He scratch' d his ear, the infallible resource To which embarrass'd people have recourse. Byron's Don Juan. Henry, the forest-born Demosthenes, Whose thunder shook the Philip of the seas. Byron's Jlge of Bronze. ELOQUENCE -WISDOM, &c. His tak is the sweet extract of all speech, And holds mine ear in blissful slavery. Bailey's Festus. Thus stor'd with intellectual riches, Skill' d was our squire in making speeches, Where strength of brains united centres With strength of lungs surpassing Stentor's. Trumbull's McFingal. Oh ! as the "bee upon the flower, I hang Upon the honey of thy eloquent tongue. Bulwer's Lady of Lyons. His words seem'd oracles That pierc'd their bosoms ; and each man would turn And gaze in wonder on his neighbour's face, That with the like dumb wonder answer'd him. You could have heard The beating of your pulses while he spoke. George Croly. Eloquence, that charms and burns, Startles, soothes, and wins, by turns. J. H. Clinch. K There 's a charm in deliv'ry, a magical art, That thrills, like a kiss, from the lip to the heart ; 'T is the glance — the expression — the well-chosen word — By whose magic the depths of the spirit are stirr'd — The smile — the mute gesture — the soul-stirring pause — The eye's sweet expression, that melts while it awes — The lip's soft persuasion — its musical tone : Oh ! such were the charms of that eloquent one ! Mrs. A. B. Welby. Now with a giant's might He heaves the ponderous thought, Now pours the storm of eloquence With scathing lightning fraught. Vicksburg Whig. 224 EMBRACE -KISS. He ceas'd ; the solemn silence now was broke, Which reign'd triumphant while the hero spoke ; And then was heard, amidst the general pause, One simultaneous burst of loud applause. J. T. Watson. EMBKACE— KISS. Teach not thy lip such scorn ; for it was made For kissing, lady, not for such contempt. Shaksfeare. Kiss the tear from her lip, you '11 find the rose The sweeter for the dew. These poor, half kisses kill me quite ; W T as ever man so serv'd? Amidst an ocean of delight, For pleasure to be starv'd! Sweet were his kisses on my balmy lips As are the breezes breath' d amidst the groves Of rip'ning spices on the height of day. The fragrant infancy of op'ning flowers Flow'd to my senses in that melting kiss ! I felt, the while, a pleasing kind of smart ; The kiss went tingling to my very heart. When it was gone, the sense of it did stay, The sweetness cling'd upon my lips all day, Like drops of honey loth to fall away. Webster. Drayton. Behn, Southern. Dry den. The kiss you take is paid by that you give ; The joy is mutual, and I'm still m debt. Lord Lansdown. EMBRACE -KISS. 225 He scarce afforded one kind parting word, But went away so cold, the kiss he gave me Seem'd the forc'd compliment gf sated love. Otway. Her lips, so rich in blisses, Sweet petitioners for kisses ! Pouting nest of bland persuasion, Ripely suing love's invasion. Moore's Anacreon. I ne'er on that lip for a moment have gaz'd, But a thousand temptations beset me, And I've thought, as the dear little rubies you've rais'd, How delicious 't would be — if you 'd let me ! MOORE. A long, long kiss — a kiss of youth and love, And beauty, all concentrating, like rays Into one focus kindling from above. Byron's Don Juan. Kiss rhymes to bliss in fact, as well as verse. Byron's Don Juan. I love the sex, and sometimes would reverse The tyrant's wish "that mankind only had One neck, which he with one fell stroke might pierce :" My wish is quite as wide, but not as bad ; — . . . . That womankind had but one rosy mouth, To kiss them all at once from North to South. Byron's Don Juan, She rose — she sprung — she clung to his embrace Till his heart heav'd beneath her hidden face ; He dar'd not raise to his that deep biue eye, Which, downcast, droop'd in tearless agony. Her long fair hair lay floating o'er her arms In all the wildness of dishevell'd charms. Scarce beat that bosom where his image dwelt, So full — that feeling seem'd almost unfelt. Byron's Corsair, 226 EMBRACE -KISS. And Paulo by degrees gently embrac'd With one permitted arm, her lovely waist ; And both their cheeks, like peaches on a tree, Lean'd with a touch together thrillingly. Leigh Hunt. — The twofold bliss, The promis'd wedding, and the present kiss. Joel Barlow. The roses on your cheeks were never made To bless the eye alone, and then to fade ; Nor had the cherries on your lips their being, To please no other sense than that of seeing. — And her white arms hung On his lov'd neck, as tho' in that one clasp The whole wide world of joy was in her grasp. Mrs. C. H. W. Esling. It was enough — each wild and throbbing heart Was closely beating 'gainst its dearer part. Mrs. C. H. W. Esling. And with a velvet lip print on his brow Such language as the tongue hath never spoken. Mrs. Sigourney. Balmy seal of soft affection, Tenderest pledge of future bliss, Dearest tie of young connexion, Love's first snow-drop, virgin kiss ! As o'er her drooping form he softly bent, The pressure of his lip was on her brow, While to her cheek the warm blood came and went, Varying each moment with her rich thought's flow, While tell-tale dimples in her cheek appearing, Told that a sweet love-thought her heart was stirring. Mrs. Amelia B. Welby. EMIGRATION. 227 I know thou dost love me — ay ! frown if thou wilt, And curl that beautiful lip, Which I never can gaze on without the guilt \ Of burning its dew to sip ! C. F. Hoffman. EMIGRATION. Down where yon anch'ring vessel spreads the sail, That, idly waiting, flaps with every gale, Downward they move, a melancholy band, Pass from the shore, and darken all the strand. Goldsmith's Deserted Village. Good heaven ! what sorrows gloom'd that parting day, That call'd them from their native walks away ! When the poor exiles, every pleasure past, Hung round the bowers, and fondly look'd their last, And took a long farewell, and wish'd in vain For seats like those beyond the western main ; And, shudd'ring still to face the distant deep, Return'd and wept, and still return'd to weep. Goldsmith's Deserted Village. Behold the duteous son, the sire decay'd, The modest matron, and the blushing maid, Forc'd from their homes, a melancholy train, To traverse climes beyond the western main. Goldsmith's Traveller Slow night drew on, And round the rude hut of the emigrant The wrathful spirit of the rising storm Spake bitter things. His weary children slept, And he, with head declin'd, sat, list'ning long To the swoln waters of the Illinois, Dashing against their shores. Mrs. L. H. Sigotjrney. 228 EMULATION -ENEMY -HATRED, &c. Let us depart ! the universal sun Confines not to one land his blessed beams ; Nor is man rooted, like a tree, whose seed The winds on some ungenial soil have cast, There, where he cannot prosper. Southey's Mador.. With all that 's ours, together let us rise, Seek brighter plains, and more indulgent skies ; Where fair Ohio rolls his amber tide, And nature blossoms in her virgin pride ; Where all that Beauty's hand can form to please, Shall crown the toils of war with rural ease. David Humphreys. EMULATION. — (See Ambition.) ENEMY — HATRED — MALICE. For never can true reconcilement grow Where wounds of deadly hate have pierc'd so deep. Milton's Paradise Lout, He, who would free from malice pass his days, Must live obscure, and never merit praise. Gay's Epistles. Lands, intersected by a narrow frith, Abhor each other. Mountains, interpos'd, Make enemies of nations, which had else Like kindred drops been mingled into one. COWPER. Offend her, and she knows not to forgive ; Oblige her, and she '11 hate you while you live. Pope. ENEMY -HATRED -MALICE. 229 A smile, a ghastly, withering smile, Convulsive o'er her features play'd. Mrs. Holford's Margaret of Anjou. Oh, that we were on the dark wave together, With but one plank between us and destruction, That I might grasp him in these desperate arms, And plunge with him amid the weltering billows, And view him gasp for life ! Maturin's Bertram Fear'd, shunn'd, belied, ere youth had lost her force, He hated men too much to feel remorse, And thought the vice of wrath a sacred call, To pay the injuries of some on all. Byron's Corsair. There was a laughing Devil in his sneer, That caus'd emotions both of rage and fear ; And where his frown of hatred darkly fell, Hope withering fled, and Mercy sigh'd farewell ! Byron's Corsair. There is no passion More spectral or fantastical than Hate ; Not even its opp'site, Love, so peoples air With phantoms, as this madness of the heart. Byron's Two Foscari. If a grasp of yours Would raise us from the gulf wherein we 're plung'd, No hand of ours would stretch itself to meet it. Byron's Two Foscari. They 'd have him live, because he fears not death. Byron's Two Foscari. They did not know how hate can burn In hearts once chang'd from soft to stern, Nor all the false and fatal zeal The convert of revenge can feel. Byron's Siege of Corinth. 20 230 ENGAGEMENT. Ah ! fondly youthful hearts can press, To seize and share the dear caress ; But love itself could never pant For all that beauty sighs to grant, With half the fervour hate bestows Upon the last embrace of foes ! Byron's Giaour, Now hatred is by far the longest pleasure ; Men love in haste, but they detest at leisure. Byron's Don Juan, ENGAGEMENT. Won by the charm Of goodness irresistible, and all In sweet confusion lost, she blush'd assent. Thomson's Lavinia, 'Twas thy high purity of soul, Thy thought-revealing eye, That plac'd me, spell-bound, at your feet, Sweet wand'rer from the sky! W. G. Clark. Then take my flower, and let its leaves Beside thy heart be cherish'd near — While thy confiding heart receives The thoughts it whispers to thine ear. The Token— 1830. 'Twas then the blush sufFus'd her cheek, Which told what words could never speak ; — .... The answer's written deeply now On this warm cheek, and glowing brow. Lucretia Maria Davidson. ENJOYMENT, &c. 231 ENJOYMENT — HAPPINESS — PROSPERITY. Prosperity is the very bond of love, Whose fresh complexion, and whose heart together, Affliction alters. 'Tis not to any rank confin'd, But dwells in every honest mind; Be justice then your sole pursuit; Plant virtue, and content 's the fruit. Consider man in every sphere, Then tell me is your lot severe 'T is murmur, discontent, distrust, That makes you wretched: God is just: We 're born a restless, needy crew ; Show me a happier man than you. Shakspeare. Gay's Fables. Gay's Fables. Luxuriant joy, And pleasure in excess, sparkling, exult On every brow, and revel unrestrain'd. Somervile's Chase. How beat our hearts, big with tumultuous joy ! Somervile's Chase. But such a sacred and homefelt delight, Such sober certainty of waking bliss, I never felt till now. Milton. Whate'er the motive, pleasure is the mark : For her the bJack assassin draws his sword ; For her dark statesmen trim their midnight lamp ; For her the saint abstains ; the miser starves ; The stoic proud, for pleasure, pleasure scorns ; For her affliction's daughters grief indulge, And find, or hope, a luxury in tears ; — For her, guilt, shame, toil, danger, we defy. Young's Night Thoughts. 232 ENJOYMENT, &c. The spider's most attenuated web Is cord — is cable, to man's tender tie Of earthly bliss ; it breaks at every breeze. Young's Night Thoughts, What thing so good which not some harm may bring? Even to be happy is a dangerous thing. Lord Sterline. They live too long who happiness outlive ; For life and death are things indifferent ; Each to be chose, as either brings content. Dryden. Cotton. If solid happiness we prize, Within our breast this jewel lies, And they are fools who roam; The world has nothing to bestow; From our own selves our joys must flow, And that dear hut — our home. A perpetual feast of nectar'd sweets, Where no crude surfeit reigns. Cowper's Task. He that holds fast the golden mean, And lives contentedly between The little and the great, Feels not the wants that pinch the poor, Nor plagues that haunts the rich man's door, Embittering all his state. Cowper's Horace. Pleasures, or wrong or rightly understood, Our greatest evil, or our greatest good. Pope's Essay on Man. Who that define it, say they more or less Than this, that happiness is happiness ? Pope's Essay on Man. Know then this truth, (enough for man to know,) Virtue alone is happiness below. Pope's Essay on Man. ENJOYMENT -HAPPINESS, &c. 233 Condition, circumstance is not the thing — Bliss is the same in subject or in king ; In who obtain defence, or who defend, In him who is, or him who finds, a friend. Pope's Essay on Man. For the wild bliss of nature needs alloy, And fear and sorrow fan the fires of joy. Campbell. I cannot think of sorrow now ; and doubt If e'er I felt it — 't is so dazzled from My memory, by this oblivious transport. Byron's Werner. There is no sterner moralist than pleasure. Byron's Don Juan. Love — fame — ambition — avarice — 't is the same, For all are meteors with a different name. Byron's Childe Harold. Am I already mad? And does delirium utter such sweet words Into a dreamer's ear? Bulwer's Lady of Lyons. Oh ! happy pair, to every blessing born ! For you may life's calm stream unruffled run ; For you its roses bloom without a thorn, And bright as morning shine its evening sun ! DO O R. T. Paine And may the stream of thy maturing life For ever flow, in blissful sunlight, through A fairy scene with gladsome beauty rife, As ever greeted the enraptur'd view ! A. W. Noney. The rapture dwelling within my breast, And fondly telling its fears to rest, Comes o'er me, wearing its charmed chain, No vestige learning of sorrow's chain. 20* 234 ENJOYMENT - HAPPINESS, &c. Too late I find how madly vain our toil [n search of happiness on mortal soil ; The gilded phantom we so dearly prize, A moment glitters, then for ever flies. The highest hills are miles below the sky, And so far is the lightest heart below True happiness. Bailey's Festus. My life has been like summer skies When they are fair to view ; But there never yet were hearts or skies,. Clouds might not wander through. Mrs. L. P. Smith. Pleasure's the only noble end, To which all human powers should tend; And virtue gives her heavenly lore, But to make pleasure please us more. . Moore. Gone — like a meteor, that o'er head Suddenly shines, and ere we 've said " Look ! look, how beautiful !" — 't is fled ! Moore's Loves of the Jlngels. How deep, how thorough-felt the glow Of rapture, kindling out of wo ! How exquisite one single drop Of bliss, that, sparkling to the top Of misery's cup ! — how keenly quaff'd, Though death must follow in the draught. Moore's Lalla BobJch. For she hath liv'd with heart and soul alive To all that makes life beautiful and fair ; Sweet thoughts, like honey bees, have made their hive Of her soft bosom cell, and cluster there. Mrs. A. B. Welby. ENTERPRISE - ENTHUSIASM. 2t There are some hours that pass so soon, Our spell-touch'd hearts scarce know they end. Mrs. A. B. Welby. May thy soul with pleasure shine, Lasting as the gloom of mine ! Charles Wolfe. Ah Pauline ! who can gaze upon thee now, And watch thy cheek all beaming with delight, Nor grieve to think that thou so soon shalt know Despair, and grief, and sorrow's withering blight ! J. T. Watson. May friendship open unto you The path of peace and holy love ; May life continual joys renew ; May hope not too deceptive prove ; — May sweet contentment round you throw Such bliss as may be found below! J. T. Watson ENTERPRISE. — (See Activity.) ENTHUSIASM — ZEAL. No searea conscience is so fell As that which has been burnt with zeal ; For Christian charity's as well A great impediment to zeal, As zeal a pestilent disease To Christian charity and peace. Butler. Zeal and duty are not slow; But on occasion's forelock watchful wait. Milton's Paradise Regained. L 236 ENVY -EQUALITY. His zeal None seconded, as out of reason judg'd, Or singular and rash. Milton's Paradise Regained. No wild enthusiast ever yet could rest, Till half mankind were like himself possess'd. COWPER. On such a theme 't were impious to be calm ; Passion is reason, transport, temper, here ! Young's Night Thoughts. For virtue's self may too much zeal be had : The worst of madmen is a saint run mad. Pope. — With all the zeal Which young and fiery converts feel, Within whose heated bosoms throngs The memory of a thousand wrongs. Byron's Siege of Corinth. And rash enthusiasm, in good society, Were nothing but a moral inebriety. Byron's Don Juan. But faith, fanatic faith, once wedded fast To some dear falsehood, hugs it to the last. Moore's Lalla Rookh, ENVY. — (See Calumny.) EQUALITY — SUPERIORITY. Consider, man ; weigh well thy frame, The king, the beggar, are the same ; Dust form'd us all. Each breathes his day, Then sinks into his native clay. Gay's Fables. ERROR. 237 Ask. of thy mother earth, why oaks are made Taller or stronger than the weeds they shade ; Or, ask of yonder argent fields above, Why Jove's satellites are less than Jove ? Pope's Essay on Man. Order is heaven's first law ; and, this confest, Some are, and must be, greater than the rest. Pope's Essay on Man. None but thyself can be thy parallel. To cope with thee, would be about as vain As for a brook to cope with ocean's flood. Byron's Don Juan. As some fierce comet of tremendous size, To which the stars did rev'rence as it pass'd, So he through learning and through fancy took His flight sublime, and on the loftiest top Of fame's dread mountain sat. Pollok's Course of Time. For mountains issue out of plains, and not Plains out of mountains ; and so, likewise, kings Are of the people, not the people of kings. Bailey's Festus. ERROR. For he that once hath missed the right way, The further he doth go, the further he doth stray, , Spenser's Fairy Queen. More proselytes and converts use t' accrue To false persuasions than the right and true, For error and mistakes are infinite, While truth has but one w r ay to be i' the right. Butler. _J 23S ESTEEM. Even so, by tasting of that fruit forbid, Where they sought knowledge, they did error find ; III they desir'd to know, and ill they did, And to give passion eyes, made reason blind. Davies' Immortality of the Soul Truth, crush'd to earth, shall rise again : The eternal years of God are hers ; But Error, wounded, writhes with pain, And dies among his worshippers. W. C. Bryant ESTEEM. Love is not love, W hen it is mingled with respects, that stand Aloof from the entire point. Shakspeare. For all true love is grounded on esteem. Buckingham O, why is gentle love A stranger to that mind, Which pity and esteem can move, Which can be just and kind? Lord Lyttleton. Take my esteem, if you on that can live ; But, frankly, sir, 't is all I have to give. Dryden. She attracts me daily with her gentle virtues, So soft, and beautiful, and heavenly. James A. Hillhouse ETERNITY - FUTURITY. 23S ETERNITY — FUTURITY. 0, that a man might know The end of this day's business, ere it come, But it sufficeth that the day will end ; And then the end is known. Shakspeare. Beyond is all abyss, Eternity, whose end no eye can reach. Milton's Paradise Lost. Too curious man ! why dost thou seek to know Events, which, good or ill, foreknown, are woe ? Th' all-seeing power, that made thee mortal, gave Thee every thing a mortal state should have. Dryden. Sure there is none but fears a future state ; And when the most obdurate swear they do not, Their trembling hearts belie their boasting tongues. Dryden Eternity ! thou pleasing, dreadful thought ! Through what variety of untried beings — Through what new scenes and changes must we pass ! The wide, th' unbounded prospect lies before me, But shadows, clouds, and darkness rest upon it. Addison's Cato Heaven from all creatures hides the book of fate, All but the page prescrib'd, their present state. Pope's Essay on Man. Oh ! in that future let us think To hold each heart the heart that shares ; With them the immortal waters drink, And, soul in soul, grow deathless theirs ! Byron. 241 ETIQUETTE -POLITENESS, &c. Shall I be left forgotten in the dust, When Fate, relenting, lets the flower revive ! Shall Nature's voice, to man alone unjust, Bid him, though doom'd to perish, hope to live ? Is it for this fair Virtue oft must strive With disappointment, penury and pain ? No : heaven's immortal spring shall yet arrive, And man's majestic beauty bloom again, Bright thro' the eternal years of Love's triumphant reign. Beattie's Minstrel ETIQUETTE — POLITENESS — RUDENESS. Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves, Where manners ne'er were preach'd. Shakspeare. He was the mildest manner'd man, That ever scuttled ship, or cut a throat. Byron's Don Juan, To all she was polite without parade ; To some she show'd attention of that kind Which flatters, but is flattery convey'd In such a sort as cannot leave behind A trace unworthy. Byron's Don Juan, There 's nothing in the world like etiquette In kingly chambers, or imperial halls, As also at the race, and county balls. Byron's Don Juan There was a general whisper, toss, and wriggle, But etiquette forbade them all to giggle. Byron's Don Juan. All smiles, and bows, and courtesy was he. J. T. Watson. EVENING - EXAMPLE. 241 EVENING. — (See Day.) EXAMPLE. No age hath been, since Nature first began To work Jove's wonders, but hath left behind Some deeds of praise for mirrors unto man, Which, more than threatful laws, have men inclin'd ; To thread the paths of praise excites the mind ; Mirrors tie thoughts to virtue's due respects ; Example hastens deeds to good effects. Mirror for Magistrates. A fault doth never with remorse Our minds so deeply move, As when another's guiltless life Our error doth reprove. Brandon. For as the light Not only serves to show, but renders us Mutually profitable : so our lives, In act£ exemplary, not only win Ourselves good names, but do to others give Matter for virtuous deeds, by which we live. Chapman. 'Tis thus the spirit of a single mind Makes that of multitudes take one direction, As roll the water to the breathing wind, Or roams the herd beneath the bull's protection. Byron's Don Juan, 21 242 EXCELLENCE - M ERIT - WORTH. EXCELLENCE — MERIT — WORTH. The sweet eye-glances, that like arrows glide, The charming smiles, that rob sense from the heart, The lovely pleasaunce, and the lofty pride, Cannot expressed be by any art. Spenser's Sonnets. Oh, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem, By that sweet ornament which truth doth give ! The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem, For that sweet odour which doth in it live. Shakspeare. Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale Her infinite variety. Shakspeare. A combination and a form indeed, Where every god did seem to set his seal, To give the world assurance of a man. More pity that the eagle should be mew'd, While kites and buzzards prey at liberty. Shakspeare. Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shin'd. * Milton. Good nature and good sense must ever join ; Tc err is human, to forgive divine. Shakspeare. Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll ; Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul. Form'd by the converse happily to steer From grave to gay, from lively to severe ; Correct with spirit, eloquent with ease, Intent to reason, or polite to please. Pope. Pope. Pope. EXCELLENCE- MERIT -WORTH. 2-13 Worth makes the man, and want of it, the fellow. Let envy snarl, let slander rail ; In vain malicious tongues assail : From virtue's shield (secure from wound,) Their blunted, venom'd shafts rebound. Pope. Gay's Fables. A matchless pair; With equal virtue form'd, and equal grace, The same, distinguish'd by their sex alone ; Hers the mild lustre of the blooming morn, And his the radiance of the risen day. Thomson Ease in. your mien, and sweetness in your face, You speak a syren, and you move a grace ; Nor time shall urge these beauties to decay, While virtue gives what years shall steal away. TlCKELL Full many a gem, of purest ray serene, The dark, unfathom'd caves of ocean bear ; Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air. Gray's Elegy His pencil was striking, resistless, and grand ; His manners were gentle, comptying, and bland ; Still born to improve us in every part, His pencil our faces — his manners our heart. Goldsmith's Retaliation. Describe him who can, An abridgement of all that was pleasant in man. Goldsmith's Retaliation For she was good as she was fair, None, none on earth above her— A.s pure in thought as angels are, To see her, was to love her. 244 EXCELLENCE -MERIT -WORTH. Angels attend thee ! May their wings Fan every shadow from thy brow — For only bright and lovely things Should wait on one so good as thou. But there are deeds which should not pass away, And names that must not wither. Byron's Childe Harold. Of many charms, to her as natural As sweetness to the flower, or salt to ocean. Byron's Don Juan. Oh ! she was perfect, past all parallel ! Byron's Don Juan. Tho' modest, on his unembarrass'd brow Nature had written — Gentleman. Byron's Don Juan. A truer, nobler, trustier heart, More loving or more loyal, never beat Within a human breast. Byron's Two Foscari. And, behind the foil Of an unblemish'd loveliness, to find Charms of a higher order, and a power Deeper and more resistless. J. G. Percival. I think of thee, sweet lady, as of one Too pure to mix with others, like some star Shining in pensive beauty all alone, Kindred with those around, yet brighter far. Mrs. A. B. Welby. The noble mind, unconscious of a fault, No fortune's frowns can bend, or smiles exalt, Like the firm rock, that in mid-ocean braves The war of whirlwinds, and the dash of waves. EXCESS - EXECUTION . 245 All beaming with light as those young features are, There 's a light round thy heart that is lovelier far ; It is not thy cheek — 't is the soul dawning clear — Though its innocent blush makes thy beauty so dear — As the sky we look up to, though glorious and fair, Is look'd up to more, because heaven is there ! Moore. One in whose love, I felt, were given The mix'd delights of either sphere ; All that the spirit seeks in heaven, And all the senses burn for here ! Moore's Loves of the Angels. The fame that a man wins himself, is best ; That he may call his own. Honours put on him Make him no more a man than his clothes do, Which are as soon ta'en off. Middleton. EXCESS. — (See Drinking.) EXECUTION. 'T is now past midnight, and, by eight to-morrow Thou must be made immortal. If I must die, I will encounter darkness as a bride, And huof it in mine arms. bHAKPPEARE. Shakspeare. See they suffer death ; But in their deaths remember they are men ; Strain not the laws to make their tortures grievous. 21 * Addison's Cato. 246 EXERCISE. Slave ! do thine office ! Strike as I struck the foe ! strike as I would Have struck those tyrants ! strike deep as my curse I Strike — and but once ! Byron's Marino Faliero. These the last accents Hugo spoke, " Strike :" — and flashing fell the stroke — Roll'd the head, and, gushing, sunk Back the stain'd and heaving trunk In the dust, which each deep vein Slak'd with its ensanguin'd rain ; His eyes and lips a moment quiver, Convuls'd and quick — then fix for ever ! Byron's Parisina. EXERCISE. Nobody 's healthful without exercise ; Just wars are exercises of a state ; Virtue 's in motion, and contends to rise, With generous ascents above a mate. Aleyn He does allot for every exercise A several hour ; for sloth, the nurse of vices, And rust of action, is a stranger to him. Massinger. Weariness Can snore upon the flint, when resty sloth Finds the down-pillow hard. SlIAKSPEARE. Though sluggards deem it but a foolish chase, And marvel men should quit their easy chair, The toilsome way, and long, long league to trace, Oh, there is sweetness in the mountain air, And life that bloated ease can never hope to share. Byron's Childe Harold* I EXILE- EXPECTATION. Rise early, and take exercise in plenty, But always take it with your stomach empty. EXILE. — (See Banishment.) 247 EXPECTATION — SUSPENSE. But be not long, for in the tedious minutes, Exquisite interval, I 'm on the rack ; For sure the greatest evil man can know, Bears no proportion to this dread suspense. Uncertainty ! Fell demon of our fears ! the human soul, That can support despair, supports not thee. Frowde. Mallet. " Yet doth he live !" exclaims th' impatient heir, And sighs for sables which he must not wear. Byron's Lara. Oh ! how impatience gains upon the soul When the long-promis'd hour of joy draws near ! How slow the tardy moments seem to roll ! What spectres rise of inconsistent fear ! Mrs. Tighe's Psyche. To the fond doubting heart, its hopes appear Too brightly fair, too sweet to realize ; All seem but day dreams of delight too dear ! Strange hopes and fears in painful contest rise, While the scarce-trusted bliss seems but to cheat the eyes. Mrs. Tighe's Psyche. 248 EXPERIENCE. EXPERIENCE. To wilful men, The injuries that they themselves procure, Must be their schoolmasters. Shakspeare He jests at scars, that never felt a wound. Shakspeare — Experience, If wisdom's friend, her best ; if not, worst foe. Young's Night Thoughts, Experience join'd to common sense, To mortals is a providence. Green. Some positive, persisting fools we know, Who, if once wrong, will needs be always so ; But you with pleasure own your errors past, And make each day a critique on the last. Pope's Essay on Criticism. Experience, wounded, is the school Where men learn piercing wisdom. Lord Brook. O, teach him, while your lessons last, To judge the present by the past; Remind him of each wish pursu'd, How rich it glow'd with promis'd good ; Remind him of each wish enjoy'd, How soon his hope's possession cloy'd ! Scott's Roheby. For most men, till by losing render'd sager, Will back their own opinions with a wager. Byron's Beppo. Her hopes ne'er drew Aught from experience, that chill touchstone whose Sad proof reduces all things from their hue. Byron's Island, EXTRAVAGANCE - EXTREMES. 249 EXTRAVAGANCE. The man who builds, and wants wherewith to pay, Provides a home from which to run away. Young. We sacrifice to dress, till household joys And comforts cease. Dress drains our cellar dry, And keeps our larder clean ; puts out our fires, And introduces hunger, frost and woe, Where peace and hospitality might reign. Cowper's Task. Dreading that climax of all human ills, The inflammation of his weekly bills. Byron's Don Juan. In my young days they lent me cash that way, Which I found very troublesome to pay. Byron's Don Juan. EXTREMES. These violent delights have violent ends And in their triumph die ; like fire and powder, Which, as they meet, consume. The sweetest honey Is loathsome in its own deliciousness, And in the taste confounds the appetite. Shakspeare. Those edges soonest turn, that are most keen ; A sober moderation stands secure, No violent extremes endure. Aleyn. Who gripes too hard the dry and slippery sand, Holds none at all, or little, in his hand. Herrick. 250 EYES -FEATURES -LIPS, &c. Extremes, though, contrary, have the like effects : Extreme heat mortifies, like extreme c Consents, retracts, advances, and then flies. Granville. FIGHTING. — (See Battle.) FIRMNESS. — (See Determination.) FISHING — HUNTING — SPORTS. The hounds shall make the welkin answer them, And fetch shrill echoes from the hollow earth. i Shakspeare. 1 FISHING -HUNTING, &c. 271 If all the year were playing holiday, To sport would be as tedious as to work. Shakspeare. I saw him beat the surges under him, And ride upon their backs ; he trod the water Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted The surge most swoln that met him. The torrent roar'd ; and we did buffet it With lu§ty sinews, throwing it aside, And stemming it with hearts of controversy. Shakspeare. Shakspeare. In wrestling, nimble, and in running, swift ; In shooting, steady, and in swimming, strong ; Well made to strike, to leap, to throw, to lift, And all the sports that shepherds are among. Spenser's Astrophel. Listening how the hounds and horn Cheerly rouse the slumbering morn, From the side of some hoar hill, Through the high wood echoing shrill. Milton. Far up the stream the twisted hair he throws, Which down the murmuring current quickly flows, When, if or chance or hunger's powerful sway Directs the roving trout this fatal way, He greedily sucks in the twining bait, And tugs and nibbles the fallacious meat. Now, happy fisherman, now twitch the line ! How the rod bends ! Behold the prize is thine. Gay's Rural Sports. With what delight the rapid course I view ! How does my eye the circling race pursue ! He snaps deceitful air with empty jaws, The subtle hare darts swift beneath his paws ; 272 FISHING -HUNTING, &c. She flies, she stretches now with nimble bound; Eager he presses on, but overshoots his ground ; She turns ; he winds, and soon regains the way, Then tears with gory mouth the screaming prey. Gay's Rural Sports. See how the well-taught pointer leads the way ! The scent grows warm ; he stops ; he springs the prey ; The fluttering coveys from the stubble rise, • And on swift wings divide the sounding skies ; The scattering lead pursues the certain sight, And death in thunder overtakes their flight. Gay's Rural Sports. Soon as Aurora drives away the night, And edges eastern clouds with rosy light, The healthy huntsman, with the cheerful horn, Summons the dogs, and greets the dappled morn. The jocund thunder wakes the enliven'd hounds, They rouse from sleep, and answer sounds for sounds ; Wide through the furzy fields their course they take, Their bleeding bosoms force the thorny brake : The flying game their smoking nostrils trace, No bounding hedge obstructs their eager pace. The distant mountains echo from afar, The hanging woods resound the flying war ; The tuneful noise the sprightly courser hears, Paws the green turf, and pricks his trembling ears ; The slacken'd rein now gives him all his speed, Back flies the rapid ground beneath the steed ; Hills, dales and forests, far behind remain, While the warm scent draws on the deep-mouth'd train. Gay's Rural Sports. High in air He waves his varied plumes, stretching away With hasty wing. Soon from the uplifted tube The mimic thunder bursts ; the leaden death FISHING - HUNTING, &c. 273 O'ertakes him, and with many a giddy whirl To earth he falls, and at my feet expires. SoMERVILE. In genial spring, beneath the quiv'ring shade, Where cooling vapours breathe along the mead, The patient fisher takes his silent stand, Intent, his angle trembling in his hand : With looks unmov'd he hopes the scaly breed, And eyes the dancing cork and bending reed. Pope's Windsor Forest, Ye vig'rous swains ! while youth ferments your blood, And purer spirits swell the sprightly flood, Now range the hills, the gameful woods beset, Wind the shrill horn, or spread the w r aving net. When milder autumn summer's heat succeeds, And in the new-shorn field the partridge feeds, Before his lord the ready spaniel bounds, Panting with hope, he tries the furrow'd grounds ; But when the tainted gales the game betray, Couch'd close he lies, and meditates the prey ; Secure they trust th' unfaithful field beset, Till, hovering o'er them, sweeps the swelling net. Pope's Windsor Forest, He thought, at heart, like courtly Chesterfield, Who, after a long chase o'er hills, dales, bushes, And what not, though he rode beyond all price, Ask'd next day " if men ever hunted twice ?" Byron's Don Juan, — With a swimmer's stroke Flinging the billows back from my drench'd hair, And laughing from my lip the audacious brine, Which kiss'd it like a wine-cup, rising o'er The waves as they arose, and prouder still The loftier they uplifted me. Byron's Two Foscart. 274 FLAG - FLATTERY, &c. FLAG. — (See Banner.) FLATTERY — SYCOPHANT — PRAISE. Or who would ever care to do brave deed, Or strive in virtue others to excel, If none should yield him his deserved meed, Due praise, that is the spur of doing well ? For if good were not praised more than ill, None would choose goodness of his own free will. Spenser. That, sir, which serves and seeks for gain, And follows but for form, Will pack when it begins to rain. And leave thee in the storm. Shakspeare. He would not flatter Neptune for his trident ; Or Jove for his power to thunder. Shakspeare. You play the spaniel, And think with wagging of your tongue to win me. Shakspeare. Of all wild beasts, preserve me from a tyrant ; And of all tame — a flatterer. The firmest purpose of a woman's heart To well-tim'd, artful flattery may yield. 'T is an old maxim in the schools, That flattery 's the food of fools, Yet, now and then, your men of wit Will condescend to take a bit. Ben Jonson. Lillo. Swift. FLATTERY - SYCOPHANT - PR A ISE. 275 Minds, By nature great, are conscious of their greatness, And bold it mean to borrow aught from flatter}'. Rowe. My soul is open to the charms of praise : There is no joy beyond it, when the mind Of him who hears it can, with honest pride, Confess it just, and listen to its music. Whitehead's Roman Father In praising Chloris, moon, and stars, and skies, Are quickly made to match her face and eyes ; And gold and rubies, with as little care, To fit the colour of her lips and hair ; And mixing suns, and flowers, and pearls and stones, Make them seem all complexions at once. Butler. For praise, that 's due, does give no more To worth than what it had before ; But, to commend without desert, Requires a mastery of art, That sets a glass on what 's amiss, And says what should be, not what is. Butler. The love of praise, howe'er conceal'd by art, Reigns, more or less, and glows in every heart ; The proud, to gain it, toils on toils endure, The modest shun it, but to make it sure. Young's Love of Fame. Of praise a mere glutton, he swallow* d what came, And the puff of a dunce, he mistook it for fame ; Till, his relish grown callous almost to disease, Who pepper' d the highest, was surest to please. Goldsmith's Retaliation. A flattering painter, who made it his care To draw men as they ought to be, not as they are. Goldsmith's Retaliation. 276 FLATTERY - SYCOPHANT - PRAISE. To hear his soothing tales, she feigns delays ; "What woman can resist the force of praise ? Gay's Trivia. Methinks you 're over-nice : • True ; flattery is a shocking vice ; Yet, sure, whene'er the praise is just, One may commend without distrust. Gay's Fables Long, open panegyric drags at best, And praise is only praise when well addrest. Gay's Epistles. But flattery never seems absurd ; The flatter'd always takes your word. Impossibilities seem just, They take the strongest praise on trust ; Hyperboles, tho' ne'er so great, Will still come short of self-conceit. Gay's Fables. The villain's censure is extorted praise. Pope. Praise of the wise and good ! — it is a meed For which I would long years of toil endure — Which many a peril, many a grief, would cure. Sir E. Brydges. Oh ! it is worse than mockery to list the flatt'rer's tone, To lend a ready ear to thoughts the cheek must blush to own, — To hear the red lip whisper'd of, and the flowing curl, and eye, Made constant theme of eulogy extravagant and high — And the charm of person worshipp'd, in an homage offer'd not To the perfect charm of virtue, and the majesty of thought. J. G. Whittier. THE FLOWERS - FRUITS. 27? Oh ! when the breath of flattery is warm upon thine ear, And manly brows are bending in humble suppliance near, . May no dream of tenderness arise, which earth may not fulfil, And no fountain open in thy heart, which Time hath power to chill ! J. G. Whittier. FLOWERS — FRUITS. Sweet garland wreaths Of pansies, pinks, and gaudy daffodils. Milton's Comns. Where peaches glow with sunny dyes, Like maidens' cheeks when blushes rise ; Where with huge figs the branches bend, Where clusters from the vine distend. Gay's Fables. Here, scatter'd wild, the lily of the vale Its balmy essence breathes ; here cowslips hang Their dewy heads, and purple violets lurk, With all the lowly children of the shade. Thomson. Where opening roses breathing sweets diffuse, And soft carnations shower their balmy dews ; Where lilies smile in virgin robes of white, The thin undress of superficial light ; And varied tulips show so dazzling gay, Blushing in bright diversities of day. She looks as clear As morning roses, newly wash'd in dew. SllAKSPEARE. The fragrant orange, with bright golden rind. Somervile's Chase. 24 Pope. L_. 278 FLOWERS -FRUITS. The hardy nut, in solid mail secure, Impregnable to winter's frosts, repays Its hoarder's care. Somervile's Hobbinol. The cocoa's root, Which bears at once the cup, and milk, and fruit. Byron's Island. The little flow'rets raise their heads, And bloom as gaily on the grave, As if reposing on such beds As Nature to her children gave. Richmond Republican. A violet by a mossy stone, Half hidden from the eye, Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky. "Wordsworth. Like sweet thoughts that come Wing'd from the maiden fancy, and fly off In music to the skies, and then are lost, These ever-steaming odours seek the sun, And fade in the light he scatters. Barry Cornwall. In Eastern lands they talk in flowers, And they tell in a garland their loves and cares ; Each blossom that blooms in their garden bowers, On its leaves a mystic language bears. J. G. Percival. The evergreen stern Winter's power derides, Like hope, that in misfortune's storm abides. Yes, lovely flower, I find in thee Wild sweetness which no words express, And charms in thy simplicity That dwell not in the pride of dress. Langhorne. FOLLY -FOOLS. 279 There is to me A daintiness about these early flowers, That touches me like poetry. They blow out With such a simple loveliness among The common herbs of pastures, and breathe Their lives so unobtrusively, like hearts Whose beatings are too gentle for the world. N. P. Willis. Oh ! the flowers look upward in every place, Through this beautiful world of ours, And, dear as a smile on an old friend's face, Is the smile of the bright, bright flowers ! FOLLY — FOOLS. This fellow 's wise enough to play the fool ; And, to do that well, craves a kind of wit. Shakspeare. He who digs hills because they do aspire, Throws down one mountain, to cast up a higher. Shakspeare. To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow. Shakspeare. Man, proud man, Dress'd in a little brief authority, Most ignorant of what he 's most assur'd,^ — His glossy essence — like an angry ape — Plays such fantastic tricks, before high heaven, As makes the angels weep. Shakspeare. Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise. Milton. 280 FOLLY -FOOLS. 'T is strange there should such difference be 'Twixt tweedle-dum and tweed le-dee. Butler's Hudibras. When civil dudgeon first grew high, And men fell out, they knew not why ; ' When hard words, jealousies, and fears, Set men together by the ears. Butler's Hudibras. Two things so averse, they never yet But in thy rambling fancy met. Butler's Hudibras. For many a lad returns from school A Latin, Greek, and Hebrew fool ; In arts and knowledge still a block, Tho' deeply skill' d in hie, haoc, hoc. Pattison. Nothing exceeds in ridicule, no doubt, A fool in fashion, but a fool that 's out ; His passion for absurdity 's so strong, He cannot bear a rival in the wrong. Though wrong the mode, comply : more sense is shown In wearing others' follies than our own. Young. 'Tis not in folly not to scorn a fool, And scarce in human wisdom to do more. Young's Night Thoughts. • Men may live fools, but fools they cannot die ! Young's Night Thoughts. Some positive, persisting fops we know, Who, if once wrong, will needs be always so ; But you with pleasure own your errors past, And make each day a critique on the last. Pope. For fools rush in where angels fear to tread. Pope. FOOLS -FORGETFULNESS, &c. 281 Who perhaps to the summit of science might soar, Content if " the table he set in a roar." Goldsmith's Retaliation. Whose genius was such, We scarcely could praise him, or blame him, too much ; Who, born for the universe, narrow'd his mind, And to party gave up what was meant for mankind. Goldsmith's Retaliation Like an ill-judging beauty, his colours he spread, And bespatter'd with rouge his own natural red. Goldsmith's Retaliation. He cast off his friends as a huntsman his pack, For he knew, when he wish'd, he could whistle them back. Goldsmith's Retaliation. And idle jests, untimely spoken, The tend'rest ties have often broken. Explaining metaphysics to the nation — I wish he would explain his explanation. Byron. FOOLS. — (See Folly.) FORGETFULNESS — OBLIVION . I 've touch'd the highest point of all my greatness , And from the full meridian of my glory I haste now to my setting. I shall fall Like a bright exhalation in the evening, And no man see me more ! The swallowing gulf Of dark oblivion and deep despair. 24* Shakspeare. Shakspeare, 282 FORGET ME NOT. 'T is far off; And rather like a dream, than an assurance That my remembrance warrants. Shakspeare. Thus peaceful rests, without a stone, a name, What once had beauty, titles, wealth and fame. Pope. Unwept, unhonour'd, and unsung. Scott. 'T is infamy to die, and not be miss'd. Carlos Wilcox. Let not a death, unwept, unhonour'd, be The melancholy fate allotted me ! But those who love me living, when I die, Still fondly keep some cherish'd memory. From Solon. FORGET ME NOT. Forget me not, when others gaze Enamour'd on thee with the looks of praise ; When weary leagues between us both are cast, And each dull hour seems heavier than the last — Oh ! then forget me not ! Think of him whose prayers shall bless thee Think of him thy love had bless'd. Oh ! think of her who holds thee dear, And think that thou art all to her ! May joy thy steps attend, And mayst thou find in every form a friend ; With care unsullied be thy every thought, And in thy dreams of home, forget me not ! Byron. Byron. FORGIVENESS -MERCY, &c. 283 C Though we should meet no more, sweet maid, Forget me not. ) Remember thee, and all thy pains, And all thy love for me ! Yes ! while a pulse, 'a breath remains, Will I remember thee ! Montgomery. Each dew-drop, on its morning leaves, Is eloquent as tears, That whisper, when young passion grieves For one belov'd afar, and weaves His dream of hopes and fears, Forget me not ! FlTZ-GllEEN HALLECK. And but to speaken of her conscience, She was so charitable and so piteous, She would weep an that she but saw a mouse Caught in a trap, if it were dead or bled. Y* Chaucer. The quality of mercy is not strain'd ; It droppeth as the gentle dew from heaven Upon the place beneath. It is twice bless'd i It blesses him that gives, and him that takes. N- Shakspeare. 'Tis mightiest in the mighty ; it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown. * — Shakspeare. Though justice be thy plea, consider this — That in the course of justice, none of us Should see salvation : we do pray for mercy ; And that same prayer doth teach us all to render The deeds of mercy. # Shakspeare. 284 FORGIVENESS - MERCY, &c. Great souJs forgive not injuries till time Has put their enemies into their power, That they may show forgiveness in their own. Nature has cast me in so soft a mould, That, but to hear a story, feign'd for pleasure, Of some sad lover's death, moistens my eyes And robs me of my manhood. Thy narrow soul Knows not the God-like glory of forgiving ; Nor can thy cold, thy ruthless heart conceive How large the power, how fix'd the empire is, Which benefits confer on generous minds. Dryden. Dryden. Rowe. The greatest attribute of heaven is mercy, And 't is the crown of justice, and the glory, Where it may kill with right, to save with pity. Beaumont and Fletcher. He, that is merciful Unto the bad, is cruel to the good. Randolph. Those moving tears will quite dissolve my frame ; They melt the soul which threats could never shake. HlGGONS. A generous warmth opens the hero's soul, And soft compassion flows where courage dwells. C. Johnson. The generous heart Should scorn a pleasure which gives others pain. Thomson. Great conquerors greater glory gain By foes in triumph led than slain ; The laurels that adorn their brows, Are pull'd from living, not dead, boughs. Butler's Hudtbras FORGIVENESS - MERCY, &c. 285 Young men soon give, and soon forget affronts, Old age is slow in both. Addison's Cato. Yet oh! when thou shalt die, May death be mild as thou art cruel now ; And may thy beauties gently sink to earth, While circling angels waft thee to repose ! Nat. Lee. Man may dismiss compassion from his heart, But God will never. Cowper's Task. The truly brave are soft of heart and eyes, And feel for what their duty bids them do. Byron's Marino Faliero. Pity ! is it pity to recall to feeling The wretch too happy to escape to death By the compassionate trance, poor nature's last Resource against the tyranny of pain ? Byron's Two Foscari. Go to — you are a child, Infirm of feeling and of purpose, blown About by every breath, shook by a sigh And melted by a tear — a precious judge. Byron's Two Foscari. With tears for nought but others' ills ; And then they flow'd like mountain rills, Unless he could assuage their woe. Byron's Prisoner of Chillon. Hate shuts her soul when dove-ey'd Mere}?- pleads. Charles Sprague. Forgive and forget ! — why the world would be lonely, The garden a wilderness left to deform, If the flowers but remember'd the chilling winds only, And the fields gave no verdure for fear of the storm. Charles Swain. 2S6 FORTITUDE - FORTUNE, &c. FORTITUDE. — (See Bravery.) FORTUNE. — (See Chance.) FRANKNESS — INGENUOUSNESS. And the soft language of the soul Flow'd from her never-silent eye. Cart wright. How eloquent in every look — Thro' her expressive eyes, her soul distinctly spoke. Lord Lyttleton. Whate'er the emotions of her heart, Still shone conspicuous in her eyes — Stranger to every female art, Alike to feign, or to disguise. Heart on her lips, and soul within her eyes. Shaw. Byron. If tenderness touch'd her, the dark of her eye At once took a darker, a heavenlier dye, From the depth of whose shadow, like holy revealings, From the innermost shrine, came the light of her feelings. Moore. Dryden. FREEDOM — LIBERTY. Oh ! give me liberty ! For were even Paradise my prison, Still I should long to leap the crystal walls. FREEDOM - LIBERTY. 28" Oh, Liberty ! thou goddess heavenly bright ! Profuse of bliss, and pregnant with delight ! Eternal pleasures in thy presence reign, And smiling Plenty leads thy wanton train. Addison's Italy. A day, an hour of virtuous liberty, Is worth a whole eternity of bondage. Addison's Cato. The greatest glory of a free-born people, Is to transmit that freedom to their children. Havard. But slaves, that once conceive the glowing thought Of freedom, in that hope itself possess All that the contest calls for ; — spirit, strength, The scorn of danger, and united hearts, The surest presage of the good they seek. Cowper's Task. 'T is liberty alone that gives the flowers Of fleeting life their lustre and perfume, And we are weeds without it. Cowper's Task. Easier were it To hurl the rooted mountain from its base, Than force the yoke of slavery upon men Determin'd to be free. Southey. We will not De the traitor slaves, While heaven has light, or earth has graves. Go, tame the wild torrent, or stem with a straw The proud surges that sweep o'er the sands that confm'd them; But presume not again to give Freemen a law, Or think, with the chains they have broken, to bind them ! 288 FREEDOM -LIBERTY. By the hope within us springing, Herald of to-morrow's strife ; By that sun, whose light is bringing Chains or freedom, death or life — Oh! remember, life can be No charm for him who lives not free ! Moore. And Oh ! if there be, on this earthly sphere, A boon, an offering Heaven holds dear, 'T is the last libation Liberty draws From the heart that bleeds, and breaks in her cause ! Moore's Lalla Rookh. Tho' too true to themselves e'er to crouch to oppression, Who can yield to just rule a more loyal submission ? Hon. W. Gaston. Who would be free, themselves must strike the blow. Byron's Childe Harold. For Freedom's battle, oft begun, Bequeath'd from bleeding sire to son, Tho' baffled oft, is ever won. Byron's Giaour. Brightest in dungeons, Liberty ! thou art, For then thy habitation is the heart ! Byron's Prisoner of Chillon. Should a conqueror tread on our forefathers' dust, It would wake the old bones from their graves. Campbell. Those sacred rights to which themselves were born. Akenside. Oh, Liberty ! can man resign thee, Once having felt thy generous flame? Can dungeons, bolts, and bars confine thee, Or whips thy noble spirit tame ? Marseilles Hymn FRIENDSHIP. 289 FRIENDSHIP. Friendship is constant in all other things, Save in the office and affairs of love : Therefore, all hearts in love use their own tongues ; Let every eye negotiate for itself, And trust no agent. Shakspeare. Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago, If thou but think'st him wrong'd, and mak'st his ear A stranger to thy thoughts. Shakspeare. ■ A friend should bear his friend's infirmities. Shakspeare. Who shall compare love's mean and gross desire To the chaste zeal of friendship's sacred fire ? Love is a sudden blaze which soon decays ; Friendship is like the sun's eternal rays ; Not daily benefits exhaust the flame, It still is giving, and still burns the same. Gay's Dione. The joys of friendship, — The trust, security, and mutual tenderness, The double joys, when both are glad for both : Our only wealth, our last retreat and strength, Secure against all fortune and the world. Rowe. Friendship above all ties does bind the heart, And faith in friendship is the noblest part. Lord Orrery. First on thy friend deliberate with thyself; Pause, ponder, sift ; not eager in the choice, Nor jealous of the chosen: fixing, fix ; — Judge before friendship, then confide till death. Young's Night Thoughts. 25 290 FRIENDSHIP. Hope not to find A friend, but what has found a friend in thee ; All like the purchase, few the price will pay ; And this makes friends such miracles below. Young's Night Thoughts, The friendships of the world are oft Confed'racies in vice, or leagues in pleasure. Addison's Cato. Friendship ! mysterious cement of the soul ! Sweet'ner of life, and solder of society, I owe thee much ! thou hast deserv'd of me Far, far beyond what I can ever pay. Blair's Grave, And what is friendship but a name, A charm that lulls to sleep? — A sound that follows wealth and fame, But leaves the wretch to weep. Goldsmith's Hermit. Friendship is not a plant of hasty growth ; Though planted in esteem's deep fixed soil, The gradual culture of kind intercourse Must bring it to perfection. Joanna Baillie. Thou art the friend, To whom the shadows of long years extend. Byron's Childe Harold. Though human, thou didst not deceive me, Though woman, thou didst not forsake, Though lov'd, thou forborest to grieve me, Though slander'd, thou never couldst shake. Though trusted, thou didst not disclaim me, Though parted, it was not to fly, Though watchful, 't was not to defame me, Nor mute, that the world might belie. Byron. FRIENDSHIP. 291 He, who, malignant, tears an absent friend. Or, when attack'd by others, don't defend, Who friendship's secrets knows not to conceal — That man is vile. Francis' Horace. A generous friendship no cold medium knows, Burns with one warmth, with one resentment glows ; One must our union, our resentment be, My friend must hate the man who injures me. How much to be priz'd and esteem'd is a friend, On whom we can always with safety depend ! Our joys, when extended, will always increase, And griefs, when divided, are hush'd into peace. Mrs. Margaret Smth. Oh. friendship ! thou balm and sweet'ner of life ! Kind parent of ease, and composer of strife ! Without thee, alas ! what are riches and power, But empty delusions, the joy of an hour ? Mrs. Margaret Smith. When our lives Were link'd in one, and our young hearts bloom'd out, Like violet bells upon the self-same stem, Pouring the dewy odours of life's spring Into each other's bosoms. B. B. Thatcher. Friends my soul with joy remembers ! How like quivering flames they start, When I fan the living embers On the hearthstone of my heart ! H. W. LOXGEELLOW. Yes, the summer of life passes quickly away, Soon the winter of age sheds its snow on the heart, But the warm sun of Friendship, that gilded youth's day, Shall still thro' the dark clouds a soft ray impart. A. Gibes. 292 FRUITS -FUNERAL, &c. Sweet lady, wilt thou think of me When Friendship's flowers are round thee wreathing. And Love's delirious flattery Within thy ear is softly breathing ? O, let my friendship, in the wreath, Though but a bud among the flowers, Its sweetest fragrance round thee breathe—* 'T will serve to soothe thy weary hours. Mrs. Amelia B. Welbv. In after years, — when thou, perchance, As thoughts of Auld Lang Syne arise, 'Midst other scenes shalt cast a glance Along these pages, should thine eyes Rest on this tribute — think of me — Think kindly, as I shall of thee. J. T. Watson. FRUITS. — (See Flowers.) FUNERAL — MOURNING — WIDOW. Do not for ever, with thy veiled lids, Seek for thy noble father in the dust ; Thou know'st 't is common ; all that live, must die, Passing through nature to eternity. Shaksfeare. Why is the hearse with 'scutcheons blazon'd round, And with the nodding plumes of ostrich crown'd ? No: the dead know it not, nor profit gain; It only serves to prove the living vain. Gay's Trivia. They truly mourn, that mourn without a witness. Baron. FUNERAL -MOURNING -WIDOW. 293 Of all The fools, who flock'd to swell or see the show, Who cared about the corpse ? The funeral Made the attraction, and the black the woe. Byron's Vision of Judgment Groans and convulsions, and discolour'd faces, Friends weeping round us, blacks, and obsequies, Make death a dreadful thing ; the pomp of death Is far more terrible than death itself. Nat. Lee. Prone on the lonely grave of the dear man She drops ; whilst busy meddling memory, In barbarous succession, musters up The past endearments of their softer hours, Tenacious of the theme. Blair's Grave. Thus, day by day, and month by month, we pass'd ; It pleas'd the Lord to take my spouse at last. I tore my gown, I soil'd my locks with dust, And beat my breasts — as wretched widows must : Before my face my handkerchief I spread, To hide the flood of tears I did — not shed. Pope. What though no friends in sable weeds appear, Grieve for an hour, perhaps, then mourn a year ? And bear about the mockery of woe To midnight dances, and the public show ! Pope. Death's seneschal ! 't is thine to trace For each his proper look and place ; How aunts should weep, where uncles stand. With. hostile cousins, hand in hand ; Give matchless gloves, and fitly shape By length of face the length of crape. Hon. N. Biddle's Ode to Bogle. 25* L_. 294 FUTURITY. See him erect, with lofty tread, The dark scarf streaming from his head, Lead forth his groups, in order meet, And range them grief-wise in the street — Presiding o'er the solemn show, The very Chesterfield of woe ! Hon. N. Biddle's Ode to Bogle Let widows, anxious to fulfil (For the first time) the dear man's will, Lovers and lawyers ill at ease, For bliss defer r'd, or loss of fees, Or heirs, impatient of delay, Chafe inly at his formal stay; The Bogle heeds not: firm and true, Resolv'd to give the dead his due, No jot of honour will he bate, Nor stir towards the church-yard gate, Till the last person is at hand, And every hat has got its band. Hon. N. Biddle's Ode to Bogle. Ere death had quite stricken the bloom from her cheek, Or worn off the smoothness and gloss of her brow, When our quivering lips her dear name could not speak, And our hearts vainly strove to God's judgment to bow, He estrang'd himself from us, and cheerfully then Sought out a new object, and wedded again. J. H. Bright. Nature doth mourn for thee. There is no need For man to strike his plaintive lyre and fail, As fail he must if he attempts thy praise. Mrs. L. H. Sigourney FUTURITY. — (See Eternht.) GAMBLING -GENIUS- TALENT. 295 GAMBLING. — (See Betting.) GENIUS — TALENT. Time, place, and action, may with pains be wrought, But genius must be born, and never can be taught. Dryden. One science only will one genius fit, So vast is art, so narrow human wit : Like kings, we lose the conquests gain'd before, By vain ambition still to make them more. Pope's Essay on Criticism. Talents angel-bright, If wanting worth, are shining instruments In false ambition's hand, to finish faults Illustrious, and give infamy renown. Young's Night Thoughts. I live not like the many of my kind ; Mine is a world of feelings and of fancies ; Fancies, whose rainbow-empire is the mind — Feelings, that realize their own romances. Miss L. E. Landon. For genius swells more strong and clear When close confm'd — like bottled beer. Trumbull's McFingal. The lamp of genius, tho' by nature lit, If not protected, prun'd, and fed with care, Soon dies, or runs to waste with fitful glare. Carlos "Wilcox. He drew his light from that he was amidst, As doth a lamp from air which hath itself Matter of light, altho' it show it not. Bailey's Festus. 296 GENTLEMAN. Wax to receive, and marble to retain. Byron's Beppo. What made more sad the outward form's decay, A soul of Genius glimmer' d thro' the clay : Genius has so much youth no care can kill, Death seems unnatural when it sighs " Be still." The New Timon. Creative Genius ! from thy hand What shapes of order, beauty, rise, When waves thy potent, mystic wand To people ocean, earth and skies ! J. H. M'Ilvane GENTLEMAN. He that bears himself like a gentleman Is worth to have been born a gentleman. Measure not thy carriage by any man's eye, Thy speech by no man's ear ; be resolute And confident in saying and in doing ; This is the grace of a right gentleman. I read no difference between this huge, This monstrous big word, lord, and gentleman, More than the title sounds ; for aught I learn, The latter is as noble as the first : I'm sure more ancient. The general voice Sounds him for courtesy, behaviour, language, And every fair demeanour, an example : Titles of honour add not to his worth, Who is himself an honour to his title. Chapman. Chapman. John Ford. John Ford GHOST - SUPERSTITION. 297 Tho' modest, on his unembarrass'd brow Nature had written " Gentleman." Byron's Don Juan, GHOST — SUPERSTITION. Angels and ministers of grace, defend us ! — Be thou a spirit of health, or goblin damn'd, Bring with thee airs from heaven, or blasts from hell, Be thy intents wicked or charitable, Thou comest in such questionable shape That I will speak to thee. Shaksfeare. Avaunt ! and quit my sight ! let the earth hide thee ! Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold ; Thou hast no speculation in those eyes, Which thou dost glare with ! SlIAKSPEARE. I can call up spirits from the vasty deep. — Why so can I, or so can any man ; But will they come, when you do call for them? SlIAKSPEARE. A thousand fantasies Begin to throng into my memory, Of calling shapes, and beckoning shadows dire, And airy tongues that syllable men's names, And sands, and shores, and desert wildernesses. Milton's Counts, They gather round, and wonder at the tale Of horrid apparition, tall and ghostly, That walks at dead of night, or takes his stand O'er some new-open'd grave, and (strange to tell,) Evanishes at crowing of the cock. Blair's Grace. For spirits, freed from mortal laws, with ease Assume what sexes and what shapes they please. Pope. 298 GHOST -SUPERSTITION. Matrons who toss the cup, and see The grounds of fate in grounds of tea. Churchill. A horrid spectre rises to my sight, Close by my side, and plain and palpable, In all good seeming and close circumstance, As man meets man. Joanna Baillie. 'Tis a history Handed from ages down ; a nurse's tale, Which children, open-ey'd and mouth'd, devour ; And thus, as garrulous ignorance relates, We learn it and believe. Southey's Thalaba An undefin'd and sudden thrill, That makes the heart a moment still — Then beat with quicker pulse, asham'd Of that strange sense its silence fram'd. Byron's Siege of Corinth He shudder'd, as no doubt the bravest cowers W T hen he can't tell what 't is that doth appal. How odd a single hobgoblin's nonentity Should cause more fear than a whole host's identity ! Byron's Don Juan Grim reader ! did you ever see a ghost ? Byron's Don Juan. And not in vain he listen'd : Hush ! — what's that ? I see — I see — Ah no ! 't is not — yet 't is — Ye powers ! it is the — the — the — Pooh ! the cat! The devil may take that stealthy pace of his ! Byron's Don Juan. Of clanking fetters — low, mysterious groans — Blood-crusted daggers, and uncoffin'd bones — Pale gliding ghosts, with fingers dropping gore — And blue flames dancing round a dungeon door. Sprague's Curiosity GLOOM -GLORY, &c. 299 GLOOM. — (See Care.) GLORY. — (See Ambition.) GLUTTONY. — (See Drinking.) GOD — PROVIDENCE. There 's a Divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them as we will. Shakspeare. The glorious Author of the universe, Who reins the winds, gives the vast ocean bounds, And circumscribes the floating worlds their rounds ! Gay's Rural Sports God, veil'd in clouded majesty, alone Gives light to all ; bids the great system move, And changing seasons in their turns advance, Unmov'd, unchang'd himself. So>iervile's Chase Who finds not Providence all good and wise, Alike in what it gives, and what denies ? Pope's Essay on Man* All nature is but art, unknown to thee, All chance, direction, which thou canst not see, All discord, harmony not understood, All partial evil, universal good ; And, spite of pride — in erring reason's spite, One thing is clear — whatever is, is right. Pope's Essay on Man, 300 GOD -PROVIDENCE. O, all-preparing Providence divine ! In thy large book what secrets are enroll'd ? What sundry helps doth thy great power assign, To prop the course which thou intend'st to hold ! Drayton. Go, mark the matchless working of the Power That shuts within the seed the future flower ; Bids these in elegance of form excel, In colour these, and those delight the smell ; Sends nature forth, the daughter of the skies, To dance on earth, and charm all human eyes. COWPER. Yes, thou art ever present, Power Divine ! Not circumscrib'd by time, nor fix'd to space, Confin'd to altars, nor to temples bound. In wealth, in want, in freedom, or in chains, In dungeons, or on thrones, the faithful find Thee. Hannah More. The Lord ! how tender is his tear ! His justice how august! Hence all her fears my soul derives, There anchors all her trust! Dr. Darwin. O Thou ! w r ho dry'st the mourner's tear, How dark this world would be, If, when deceiv'd and wounded here, We could not fly to thee ! Moore. Who spoke creation into birth, Arch'd the broad heavens, and spread the rolling earth; Who form'd a pathway for the obedient sun. And bade the seasons in their circles run ; Who fill'd the air, the forest, and the flood, if And gave man all for comfort, or for good. Charles Sprague. GOLD -WEALTH, &c. 301 Below, above, o'er all he dares to rove, In all finds God, and finds that God all love. Charles Sprague. How poor, how rich, how abject, how august, How complicate, how wonderful is man ! How passing wonder He, who made him such ! Young's Night Thoughts. GOLD — WEALTH, &c. Dumb jewels often, in their silent kind, More than quick words, do move a woman's mind. Shakspeare. Madam, I own 't is not your person, My stomach's set so sharp and fierce on ; But 'tis your better part, your riches, That my enamour'd heart bewitches ! Butler's Hudibras. For money has a power above The stars and fate, to manage love, Whose arrows learned poets hold, That never miss, are tipp'd with gold. Butler's Hudibras. Trade it may help, society extend, But lures the pirate, and corrupts the friend ; It raises armies in a nation's aid, But bribes a Senate, and a land 's betray'd. Pope's Moral Essays. Get place and wealth, if possible, with grace, If not, by any means get wealth and place. Pope's Moral Essays. To whom can riches give repute or trust, Content, or pleasure, but the good and just ? Pope's Essay on Man 302 GOLD -WEALTH,