.;///// A COMPLETE DICTIONARY OF POETICAL QUOTATIONS COMPRISING THE MOST EXCELLENT AND APPROPRIATE PASSAGES IN THE OLD BEITISH POETS; WITH CHOICE AND COPIOUS SELECTIONS FROM THE BEST MODERN BRITISH AND AMERICAN POETS. EDITED BY SARAH JOSEPHA HALE. As nightingales do upon glow-worms feed. no poets live upon the living light Of Nature and of Beauty. Bailey's Fesius, $nmiifttUt[ 3llttstnthfo miilj <£ngrohg3. PHILADELPHIA: J. B. LIPPINC OTT & CO 1856. v qP (& *&<£** Entered, according to th-3 Act of Congress, in the year 1849, by «RI«G, ELLIOT & O0,> in the Clerk's Otice of the District Court of the United States, for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. MAY 1 5 M4 PEEFACE On presenting to the public this Dictionary of Poetical Quotations, the only complete work of the kind in the English language, the best preface will be its history. About twenty years ago the plan was originated by John F. Addington, an English- man, then residing in this city ; but he devoted his attention almost exclusively to the old British Bards. His labours were valuable, still the work was incomplete; the modern writers of poetry, both English and American, with a few exceptions in favour of the former, were wholly omitted. Then his selections were not always in accordance with the present standard of public taste. The old dramatic poets wrote according to their light, which was often reflected through a foul medium, and revealed much that is now considered, and justly, too, as coarse and indelicate. The text of Mr. Addington' s selections required revision; still, he deserves much credit for his perseverance and research, and the study he devoted " to rescue from the reckless tooth of time some of the finest thoughts and most vivid images of the ancient fathers of English poetry." His selections from Shakspeare were copious ; and also from Byron, the only modern poet that he much favoured. To the present Editor was committed the task of revising the original work, and adding thereto selections from the modern British and American poets. This required the examination of a multitude of volumes, and much care and study, in order to exhibit, a3 far as possible, the characteristic excellence of each author. A difficult and delicate task it is to select from living poets, — especially when there are so many ! The index shows an array of over four hundred authors; thus, at a glance, maybe seen how wide has been the field of research. Besides the new quotations introduced under every head, quite a number of new sub- jects have been added, making the plan complete, and furnishing a Manual of Poetical Extracts, alphabetically arranged, which will serve to interpret every passion, emotion, and feeling of the human soul. Here, also, every condition and pursuit of life may find \ts motto or character, and the beauties of Nature and Art their truest description. In short, the book is a precious casket, where the most perfect gems of Genius the Anglo^ Saxon literature has preserved for the last three hundred years are garnered. The chro- nological order of the quotations is preserved, and thus the curious reader may trace the progressive improvements of the one language, forming now the bond of union between two great nations, whose children of song are here, for the first time, united. In the American portion, the striking characteristics of the poetry are devotion to nature, patriotism, and deep religious sentiment. This sentiment it is which makes poetry so popular in our country ; and while the work now submitted contains such treasures of holy and beautiful thoughts as no other collection of poetry can show, the Editor ami Publishers flatter themselves its merits will ensure it a welcome reception. Philadelphia, January, 1850. LIST OF AUTHORS QUOTED IN THIS WORK. BRITISH. Addison, Joseph Akenside, Mark Aleyn, Charles Armstrong. John Bailey, Philip J. Baillie. Miss Joanna Bancroft, Jnhn Barbauld. Mrs. Anna Letitia Baron, Rohert Barrett, Miss Elizabeth B. Barry, Lndovick Ban on, Bernard Bi.ylev, Thomas Haynes B-attie, James Beaumont, Sir John Behn, Mrs. Aphra Belloe, William Biacklock, Dr. Thomas Biackmore, Sir Richard Blair. Rohert Bloornfield, R-obert Bowles, VS'illiam Lisle Bnwring, Dr. / Brandon, Samnel Brewer. Anthony Brome, Alexander Broriie, Richard Brooke, Henry Beller Brooke, Lord Browne. William Browning. Robert Brydi-es. Sir Edgerton Buckingham, Duke of Bulwer, Sir Edward Lytton Burns, Robert Butler, Mrs. Frances Kemble Butler, Samuel Byron. George, Lord Campbell, Thomas Carew, Lady Carew, Thomas Cartwright. William Chamberlaine, Robert Chapman, George Chandler, Mary" Churchill. Charles Cibber, Colley Cleayeland, John Coleridge. Samuel Taylor Collins, William Colton, C. C. Congreve, William Conk, Miss Eliza Cooke. Thomas Corbel, Richard Cotton, Charles Cowley, Abraham Cowper, William Crabhe, George Croley, George F. Crown. John Cumberland, Richard Cunningham, Allan Daniel. Samuel Darcy, Sir Patrick Darwin, Dr. Erasmus Daubonie, Robert Pavenant, Sir William Davenport, Sir Christopher Davis. Sir John Day, John Decker, Thomas Denham, Sir John Dennis, John Donne, Dr. John Dow, Alexander Drayton, .Michael Drummond, George Hay Dmlen, John Duneome, William Dyer, John Eil.oft. Ebenezer Etherege, Sir George Faber, F. W. Falconer, William Falkland. Lord Cane, Sir Francis Fawkes. Francis Fenton, Elijah . Henry Flekuoe, Richard Fleteh.-r, John Ford, John pointer. Dr. Fountain, John Franklin, Dr. Thonuw Francis, Sir Philip Freeman. Sir Ralph Frowde, Philip Garth, Sir Samuel Gascoigne George Gay John ? Gifford, William J Glover, Richard < GofTe, William 5 Goldsmith, Oliver I Gomersal, Robert J Graliume, James i Gray, Thomas i Green, Robert ' Hahbiniron, William i Hall. John < Hammond, Anthony Il-la-'iKS. Ladv Flora j Hawkins, Sir John J Hayley, William Havard, William j Havwood, Mrs. Elizabeth Heath, Rohert , Heber, Reginald J Hemans, Mrs. Felicia Dorothea ? Herbert, George i Herbert, William I Flernck, Robert i Hervey, Thomas K. , Hev'.'-ood. John ' Herons, Bevil < Hill, Aaron < Hill, George i Hot- Thomas " , I ford, Mrs. Holland, Lord Home, John Hood, Thomas ; Hopkins, Charles Howard, Sir Robert Howell. James Howitt, Mrs. Mary Hunt, Leigh. Hunt, Sir A. ■ Jeffreys, George ! Jephson, Rohert ; Jenyns, Soame > Jewsbury, Miss Maria Jane I Johnson, Charles j Johnson, Dr. Samuel ■ Jones, Sir William Jonson, Ben Keats, John Kett, Henry Killegrew, Henry 1 King. Dr. Henry Knowles, James Sheridan Lamb, Charles Lamb, Hon. George Landon, Miss Leti:ia Elizabeth Langhorne, Dr. John Lansdown.George.L'd Granville Lee, Nathaniel Lewis, Matthew Gregory Lillo, George Lilly, John Llyv.-elyn, Sion Lodee, Dr. Thomas Lovelace, Richard S Lyttleton, George, Lord i M'acauiay, Thomas Babington > Macklm. Charles S Madden. Dr. Samuel ' Mallet. David / Maimers, Lady \ Markham. Gervase < .Marlowe, Christopher > Marmyon, Sheckerly i Marsh, Narcissus Mai 'goniery, James > More, Mrs Hannah ' Motherwell. William i Mottley, John { Murphy, Arthur I Nabb, T. I Nevi I, Robert \ Norton. Hon. Mrs. Caroline j Ogilvie, Dr. John on, John , Overhury, Sir Thomas Pamell, Thomas Patterson, James Pattison, William Peter, William Philips, Ambrose Philips, John Pollock, Robert Pornfret, John Pope. Alexander Porteus, Dr. Beilby Powell. Georsre Praed, Winthrop M. Proctor, Bryan Waller Qnarles, Francis Raleisrh, Sir Walter Randolph, Thomas Rawlins, Thomas Richards, Nathaniel Rider, William Robinson, Mrs. Mary Rochester, Earl of Rogers, Samuel Roscommon, Earl of Rowe, Nicholas Rowley, Samuel Rowley, William t Russell, Lord John Rutter, Joseph Sampson. Henry Savajre, Richard Scott, Sir Walter Sewell, George Shadwell, Thomas Shakspeare, William Shelley. Percy Bysshe Sbenstone, William Sheridan, Richard Brinsley Shirley, James Sidney, Sir Philip Smith, Horace Smith. William Smollett, Dr. Tobias Sornerville, William Southern, Thomas Southey, Mrs. Caroline Sontliey, Robert Southwell, Robert Spenser, Edmund Sterling. John Stiiliugfleet " Suckling, Sir John Swift, Dr. Jonathan Talfourd. Thomas Noon Tate, Nahnm Taylor, Henry Tennyson, Alfred Thomson, Jarnes Thompson, William Tickell. Thomas Tnrhe, Mrs. Mary Tonna, Mrs. Charlotte Elizabeth Trapp, Joseph Topper, .Martin Farquhar Vincent, William Waller, Edmund Wal'on, Isaac Watkins. Roland Watts, Aianc A. Webster. John White, Henry Kirke Whitehead, Wilham WilKie, William WiiKins, John Wilson, Arthur Wolcot. Dr. John Wordsworth, William Young, Edward AMERICAN. Adams, John Quincy Aldrich, James Allston, Washington Barker, James N. Barlow, Joel Bates, David Benjamin. Park Belhune. George Washington Bird, Robert M. Bo-art, Miss Elizabeth Boker, Charles Brainard.J. G. C. Brooks, James G. Brouks, Mrs. Maria Bryant, John H. Brvant, William Cullen Bu'rleigh. William 1L Carey, Miss Alice Carev, Miss Phcebe Chandler, Mrs. Caroline H. Chandler, Mrs Elizabeth M. Clark, Willis Gaylord Clarke, Miss Sara J. Cue, Richard, Jr. Colton, Walter Cooke, Philip P Coxe. Arthur Cleaveland Cranch. C. P. Dana, Richard H. Davidson, Miss Lncretia M. Davidson. Miss Margaret M. Dawes, Rufus Dinnies, Mrs. Anna Peyre Doane, George Washington Drake. Joseph Rodman Du<:aniie, A. J. H. Dwight. Timothy Ean.es. Mrs. Elizabeth J. Eastburn, James Wallis i Ellet. Mrs. Elizabeth F. t Embury, Mrs. Emma C. J Emerson, Ralph Waldo ' Everest, C. W. , Everett, Edward < Fields. James T. j Franklin, Dr. Benjamin ', Fr'-I.ie, Levi Fuller, Miss S. Margaret Gallagher, William D. Gilrnan, Mrs. Caroline Gould. Miss Hannah F. < Gray, Thomas, Jr. < Hale. Mrs. Sarah Josepha ', Hall, Mrs. Louisa J. < Halleck, Fitz Greene i Hillhouse, James A j Hirst, Henry B. ' Hoffman, Charles Fenno f Holmes, Dr. Oliver Wendell ' Hooper, Miss Lucy < Hosmer, William C. H. f Howe, Mrs. Julia W. < Hoyt, Ralph / Humphreys, David ( ' Judson, Mrs. Emily C. ; Kinney, Mrs. Elizabeth C. f Leggett, W'ilbam ; Lewis. Mrs. Sarah Anna 1 Longfellow, Henry Wordsworth ', Lowell, James Russell ( Lowell. Mrs. Maria J Lunt, George ; Lynch, Miss Anne C. ! Mathews, Cornelius < May, Miss Caroline Mellen, Granville Morris, George P. J Morns, Robert j Mackellar, Thomas ! McLellan, Isaac Neal, John * Neal, Mrs J. C. 'i Nicnol, John < Nichols, Mrs. R. S. Noble, L. L. j Norton, Andrews Oszood, Mrs. Frances S. Pabodie, William J. Palmer, William Pitt Parsons, Thomas W. Patterson, Samuel D. Peabody, William B. O. Percival, James Gates Pickering, Henry Pierpont, John Pjerson, Lydia Jane Pinckney, Edward C. Poe, Edgar A. Prentice, George D. , Read, T. Buchanan i Rockwell, J. O. J Sands, Robert C. ' Sargent, Epes Sargent, John 0. J Sawyer, Mrs. Caroline M. Sigourney. Mrs. Lydia H S.inrns, William Gilmore Smith, Mrs. Elizabeth Oakes Sprasue, Charles Stoddard, Mrs. Lavinia S'oddard. R. H. Street, Alfred B. Taylor, J. Bavard Thomas, F. W. Thomson, Charles West Tuckerman, Henry T. Very. Jones Wallace, William Ware, Henry, Jr. Ward. Thomas Welhv. Mrs. Amelia E. Whitman, Mrs. Sarah Helen. Whittier, Joiin G. Wilcox, Carlos Wilde. Richard Henry Willis, Nathaniel Parker Woodworth, Samuel Worthington, Mrs. Jane T TABLE OF CONTENTS. Absence Page 7 Absentees * 9 Abstinence 9 Accident 9 Acclammation 9 Accomplishments JO Accusation 10 Action 10 Activity 10 Adversity 11 Advice 14 Adieu 15 Affection 15 Age 15 Agriculture 17 Alarm 17 Books .. Bounty.. Brevity.. Bribery. . Building. Amazement Calamity Calm Candour . Care Cause .... Caution . . Celibacy. . Ceremony Challenge Change .. 17 X Character. Ambition 17 America 22 Ancestry 23 Angels 24 Anger ... 24 AiiL'liii Animals 26 Antipathy 27 Charj ty Chastity Cheerfulness Childhood and Children Choice . . . 20 \ Church Clergy and Churchmen Church-yard 61 62 63 65 65 66 Crown 107 Cruelty 108 Curiosity 109 Curses 109 Custom Ill Dancing 112 Dandy 112 Antiquary 27? Circumvention Apparel 27 Appearances 28 Applause 29 Architecture 29 Arbour 29 Argument 29 Arms 30 Army Art. Artifice Astonishment . Atheist Authors Authority Autumn Avarice Awkwardness 32 City and Citizens . . Clouds Comet Comfort Commonwealth. Company Compassion Complaint Compliments Concealments 2 \ Conceit Confidence 33 < Conscience 34 \ Conspiracy 34 ' t Consideration 35 < Constancy 37 > Contemplation 5 Contempt t . 5 Content 37 5 Conversation 38 I Coquette Banishment Bargain Battle 38 j Corpulence Beard 42 J Corruption .. Beauty 42 ' Country Bed 48 ; Country Life Bees.. 48 > Courage Beggar 48 \ Cou ' Benefits 49 > Courtesy Bigotry 49 Courtier Birds 50 > Courtship Birth 51 \ Cowardice Birth lay 52 Cowards Blindness 52 Coxcomb Bluntness 53 > Craft Blushing 54 ? Credulity Boasting 54 ( Critics and Criticism. . M Danger Death 113 Debts 124 Decay 124 Deceit 125 Declaration 126 Defiance 126 Deformity 129 J Deity 130 \ Delay 131 Delicacy 132 I Deluge 132 Defendants 132 X Deputy 132 Design 133 X Desire 133 \ Despair 133 Despondency 138 > Destiny 138 \ Destruction 138 5 Determination 138 \ Detraction 138 ] Dew 138 X Devotion 139 X Dignity 139 j Dinner 139 \ Disappointment 139 Discontent 139 > Discord 140 i Discretion 140 } Disease 140 Dishonesty 140 Displeasure 140 Disposition 140 Doubt 141 Dreams 141 Dress 143 Drowning 143 Drums 143 Drunkenness 143 Duelling 145 Duty 145 Earth 146 Earthquake 146 j Eating 146 ; Ecstacv 146 i Education 146 j Egotism 147 i Elegance 147 Eloquence 147 J Emigration 149 Emulation . . 150 • Enemy 151) Engagsmen 150 England 150 Enjoyment 152 Ennui 153 Enthusiasm 153 Envy 153 Equality 155 Error 155 Etiquette 155 Evening 156 Evil . 157 Example J57 Excellence 158 Execution 158 Exercise 158 Exile j 158 Experience 1&t Expectation 160 Extravagance 161 Extremes 16' Eyes 161 F. Faction 163 Fairies 103 Faith 164 Fall 165 Falsehood 165 Fame 166 Fancy 169 Farewell 170 Farmer 170 Father 170 Fashion 171 Fate 171 Favour 172 Fear : 172 Feasting 174 Features 175 Feeling 175 Festivity 175 Fickleness 175 Fidelity 175 Fighting 179 Firmness 179 Fishing lTii Flag 17!' Flattery and Flatterer t. J Flowers 1S2 Flood 182 Fool 182 Forgetfulness 183 Forgiveness 184 Formality JS5 Fortitude 185 Fortune 185 Fortune-Tellers 187 France 188 Freedom -. 189 Free- Will ...... .. 189 Friendsuip "Oil Funeral - _ $i TABLE OF CONTENTS. Fury 194 ', Futurity 194 i G. < Jambling 195 generosity 196 j Genius 196 / Gentleman 190 < Ghost 197 Gifts 199 Glory 199 Gluttony 200 God 200 Gold 201 Goodness 202 Gossip 203 Government 203 Grace 201 Gratitude 204 Grave 205 Greatness 208 Grief 210 Guide 218 Guilt 218 H. Hair 219 Hand 219 Hanging 220 Happiness 220 Harvest 223 Hatred 224 Health 227 Hearing 227 Heart 227 Heavens 228 Hell 229 Hermit 230 Heroes 230 History. . Historian... 232 Home 233 Honesty 236 Honour 236 Hope 239 Horsemanship 242 Hospital 243 Hospitality 243 Humility 244 Hunting 245 Husbands 247 Hypocrisy 247 Idleness 250 l2iiorance 252 Illness 253 Imagination 253 Immortality 254 Impatience 255 Imprisonment 255 Impudence 256 Inconstancy 257 Independence 257 Industry 258 Inebriety 259 Infancy 260 Infidelity 260 Ingratitude 262 Injuries 264 Inn 264 Innocence 265 Instinct .... 266 Instruction 267 Intellect 267 Invention 207 Irresolution 267 Italy 267 J. Jail 268 Jealousy 268 Jest 272 Joy 272 Judge 274 Judgment 274 Justice 275 K. Kindness 277 Kintra 278 Kiss 282 Knaves 283 Knighthood 283 Knowledge 284 Labour 285 , Law 287 > Learning 288 Letters 290 Liberty 291 Life 293 Light 303 Lion 303 London 304 Love 304 Lovers 326 Lust 327 Luxury 328 Madness 328 Man 329 Marriage 337 Meeting 342 Melancholy 343 Memory 344 Mercy 346 Merit 347 Messenger 348 Mind 348 Mirth 350 Mischief 351 Miser 351 Misfortune 352 Mob 352 Modesty 353 Moon. Moonlight.... 354 Morning 357 Mother "" Mountains 363 Mourning 364 Murder 365 Music 367 Name 372 Nature 372 Necessity 375 News 376 Night 377 Nightingale 381 Nobility 382 Novelty 383 Nun 383 Oaths 384 Obituary 385 Oblivion 386 Obstinacy 386 Ocean 386 Offence 388 Office 388 Opinion 389 Opportunity 389 j Oppression 390 j Orator 390 Popularity 417 ' Portrait 419 '* Poverty 420 Praise 422 Prayer 423 Preferment 425 Press 426 Pride 426 ; Prison 428 Prodigality 428 \ Prodigies 429 ' Promises 430 [ Proposal 430 Prosperity 432 f Providence 433 \ Prudence 434 Punishment 434 J Purity 435 Quacks 436 Rase 436 Rain 4:;: Rainbow 437 Reapers 437 Reason 438 Rebellion 438 Reciprocity 442 Reconciliation 442 Refinement 442 Reflection 442 Reformation 442 Regicide 442 Religion 443 Remembrance 445 Repentance 446 Reproof 448 Reputation 448 Resolution 449 Resurrection 450 Retirement 450 Revenge 454 Riches 457 Rivers 458 Ruins 459 Rumour 460 Sportn Stars Stateatid.i . . Slono Stuooornne^r Study Style Submission . SuccffS Suicide Summer Sun Superiority . . Superstition . Surprise Suspense Suspicion Swan Swimming.. . Sycophant. .. Sympathy . . . T. Talking Taste Taxation Teacher Tears Temper Tempest Temperance .. . Temptation ... Thieves Thought Threatening .. Thirst Time Timidity Titles Token To-morrow Torture Transport Traveller Treason Triumph Truth Twilight Tyranny 502 502 502 503 503 503 504 504 504 504 506 507 5)] 512 512 513 513 515 515 old 519 -■■I 525 525 526 527 527 527 5-2H 530 530 531 532 U. t Pain 391 / Parasite 391 i Parents 391 ,' Parting 392 ', Passion 395 J Patience 397 J Patriotism 398 < Peace 401 I Peasant 402 I Pen 403 } Perfection 404 Perseverance 404 Philanthropy 404 Philosophy 405 Phrenology 407 Phvsic 407 Pity 408 Plavers 409 Pleasure 409 Poets 411 Politeness 416 Politics 416 461 Safety 462 Sailor 462 Satan 462 Satiety 463 Satire 464 School 465 Scold 466 Scorn 466 Scotland 467 Secresy 467 Seduction 468 Selfishness 469 Senses 470 Sensibility « 470 J Servants. Service 471 J Sexton 471 f Shame 471 { Shepherd 472 Ship 472 Shipwreck 473 I Shooting 475 ; Silence 476 j Sin 477 J Sincerity 477 Single Life 478 Skull 479 Slander 479 Slavery 483 Sleep 485 Society 487 Soldier 489 Solitude 492 Sorrow 496 Sou] 498 Spleen 500 Splendour 500 Spring 500 Unanimity Unbelief..., Usurper . . . Vanity Variety . .. Vice Vicissitude Victory . . . Villain .... Virtue Voice Volcano . . W. War Water Wealth WidOw Wife Winds Wine Winter Wisdom Wit Witches Woman Wonder Words World 535 535 535 535 536 536 537 537 538 533 541 542 548 549 550 551 553 554 555 556 556 ;,v: 559 566 566 567 Y. Yeoman.. Yes Yew-tree. Youth POETICAL QUOTATIONS ABSENCE. Like as the culver on the bared bough, Sits mourning for the absence of her mate, And in her songs sends many a wishful vow For his return that seems to linger late ; So I, alone now left, disconsolate, Mourn to myself the absence of my love ; And wandering here and there all desolate, Seek, with my plaints, to match that mournful dove. Edmund Spenser. Though absent, present in desires they be ; Our souls much further than our eyes can see. Michael Drayton. Our two souls, therefore, which are one, Though I must go, endure not yet A breach, but an expansion; Like gold to airy thinness beat. If they be two, they are two so As stiff twin compasses are two; The soul, the fixt foot, makes no show To move, but doth, if th' other do. And though it in the centre sit, Yet when the other far doth roam, It leans and hearkens after it, And grows erect, as that comes home. Such wilt thou be to me, who must, Like th' other foot, obliquely run : Thy firmness makes my circle just, And makes me end where I begun. Dr. John Donne. It is as if a night should shade noon-day, Or that the sun was here, but forced away ; And we were left, under that hemisphere, Where we must feel it dark for half a year. Ben Jonson. Short absence hurt him more, And made his wound far greater than before ; Absence not long enough to root out quite All love, increases love at second sight. Thomas May's Henry II. I do not doubt his love, but I could wish His presence might confirm it : when I see A fire well fed, shoofup its wanton flame, And dart itself into the face of heaven ; I grant that fire, without a fresh supply, May for a while be still a fire ; but yet How doth its lustre languish, and itself Grow dark, if it too long want the embrace Of its loved pyle ! how straight it buried lies In its own ruins ! Robert Mead's Comfort of Love and Friendship If she be gone, the world, in my esteem, Is all bare walls ; nothing remains in it But dust and feathers. John Crown's Ambitious Statesman, O thou that dost inhabit in my breast, Leave not the mansion so long tenantless ; Lest, growing ruinous, the building fall, And leave no memory of what it was ! Repair me with thy presence, Sylvia ; Thou gentle nymph, cherish thy forlorn swain. Shaksveare's Two Gent, of Verona- What! keep a week away? Seven days and nights ? Eight score eight hours ? and lovers' absent hours, More tedious than the dial eight score times ? O weary reckoning ! Shahs. Othello. Without your sight my life is less secure ; Those wounds you gave, your eyes can only cure , No balm in absence will effectual prove, Nature provides no weapon salve for love. Sir Robert Howard's Vestal Virgin Thus absence dies, and dying proves No absence can subsist with loves That do partake of fair perfection ; Since, in the darkest night, they may, By love's quick motion, find a way To see each other in reflection. Suckdng (7) 6 ABSENCE. Every moment I'm from thy sight, the heart within my bosom Moans like a tender infant in its cradle, Whose nurse had left it Otway's Venice Preserved. Love reckons hours for months, and days for years ; And every little absence is an age. Dryden's Amphictrion. All flowers will droop in absence of the sun That waked their sweets. Dryderi's Aurenzehe. Condemn'd whole years in absence to deplore, And image charms he must behold no more. Pope's Eloisa. No happier task these faded eyes pursue ; To read and weep is all they now can do. Pope's Eloisa. Of all affliction taught a lover yet, 'T is sure the hardest science to forget ! Pope's Eloisa. Unequal task ! a passion to resign, For hearts so touch'd, so pierced, so lost as mine ! Ere such a soul regains its peaceful state, How often must it love, how often hate, How often hope, despair, resent, regret, Conceal, disdain — do all things but forget ! Pope's Eloisa. There 's not an hour Of day or dreaming night 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 Mirandola. Methinks I see thee straying on the beach, And asking of the surge that bathes thy foot If ever it has wash'd our distant shore. Cowper's Task. Not to understand a treasure's worth Till time has stol'n away the slighted good, Is cause of half the poverty we feel, And makes the world the wilderness it is. Cowper's Task. Her fancy follow'd him through foaming waves To distant shores, and she would sit and weep At what a sailor suffers. Fancy, too, Delusive most where warmest wishes are, Would oft anticipate his glad return, And dream of transports she was not to know. Cowper's Task. Where'er I roam, whatever realms to see, My heart, untravel'd, fondly turns to thee : Still to my brother turns, with ceaseless pain, And drags at each remove a lengthening chain. Goldsmith's Traveller. O tell him I have sat these three long hours, Counting the weary beatings of the clock, Which slowly portion'd out the promis'd time That brought him not to bless me with his sight Joanna Baillie's Rayner Yes, The limner's art may trace the absent feature, And give the eye of distant weeping faith To view the form of its idolatry ; But oh! the scenes 'mid which they met and parted, The thoughts — the recollections sweet and bitter, Th' Elysian dreams of lovers, when they loved, Who shall restore them? Less lovely are the fugitive clouds of eve, And not more vanishing. Maturin's Bertram. Bertram, Bertram ! How sweet it is to tell the list'ning night The name beloved. It is a spell of power To wake the buried slumberers of the heart, Where memory lingers o'er the grave of passion Watching its tranced sleep. The thoughts of other days are rushing on me, The loved, — the lost, — the distant, and the dead, Are with me now, and I will mingle with them Till my sense fails, and my raised heart is wrapt In secret suspension of mortality. Maturin's Bertram. Long did his wife, Suckling her babe, her only one, look out The way he went at parting, — but he came not ! Rogers's Italy. There as she sought repose, her sorrowing heart Recall'd her absent love with bitter sighs; Regret had deeply fix'd the poison'd dart, Which ever rankling in her bosom lies : In vain she seeks to close her weary eyes, Those eyes still swim incessantly in tears, Hope in her cheerless bosom fading dies, Distracted by a thousand cruel fears, While banish'd from his love for ever she appears. Mrs. Tighe's Payche. As slow our ship her foamy track Against the wind was cleaving, Her trembling pennant still look'd back To that dear isle 'twas leaving. So loath we part from all we love, From all the links that bind us; So turn our hearts, where'er we rove, To those we've left behind us. T. Moore. Oh ! couldst thou but know With what a deep devotedness of woe ABSENTEES - ABSTINENCE - ACCIDENT - ACCLAMATIONS. I wept thy absence, o'er and o'er again Thinr.ing of thee, still thee, till thought grew pain, And memory, like a drop that night and day Falls cold and ceaseless, wore my heart away ! Moore's Lalla Rookh. A boat it midnight sent alone To drift upon the moonless sea, A lute, whose leading chord is gone, A wounded bird, that hath but one Imperfect wing to soar upon, Are like what I am, without thee ! Moore's Loves of the Angels. 'Tis scarcely Two hours since ye departed : two long hours To me, but only hours upon the sun. Byron's Cain. Wives, in their husbands' absence, grow subtler, And daughters sometimes run ofl* with the butler. Byron's Don Juan. Absent many a year Far o'er the sea, his sweetest dreams were still Of that dear voice that soothed his infancy. Robert Southey. We must part awhile : A few short months — though short, they must be long Without thy dear society ; but yet We must endure it, and our love will be The fender after parting — it will grow Intenser in our absence, and again Burn with a tender glow when I return. Percival's Poems. When from land and home receding, And from hearts that ache to bleeding, Think of those behind, who love thee, While the sun is bright above thee I Then, as down the ocean glancing, With the waves his rays are dancing, Think how long the night will be To the eyes that weep for thee. Miss Gould's Poems. Call thou me home ! from thee apart Faintly and low my pulses beat, As if the life-blood of my heart Within thine own heart holds its seat, - And floweth only where thou art : Oh! call me home. Mrs. E. Oakes Smith. ABSENTEES. We yet retain Some small pre-eminence ; we justly boast At least superior jockeyship, and claim The honours of the turf as all our own. Go then, well worthy of the praise ye seek, And show the shame ye might conceal at home, In foreign eyes ! — be grooms and win the plate, Where once your nobler fathers won a crown. s Task ABSTINENCE. Against diseases here the strongest fence Is the defensive virtue abstinence. Robert Hcrrick His life is parallel'd Ev'n with the stroke and line of his great justice ; He doth with holy abstinence subdue That in himself, which he spurs on his pow'r To qualify in others. Shaks. Meas. for Meas. Yet in abstinence in .things we must profess Which nature fram'd for need, not for excess. s Pastorals. ACCIDENT. If we consider accident, And how repugnant unto sense It pays desert with bad event, We shall disparage providence. Sir William Davenani's Cruel Brother. As the unthought-on accident is guilty Of what we wildly do, so we profess Ourselves to be the slaves of chance, and flies Of every wind that blows. Shaks. Winter Tale ACCLAMATIONS. It is a note Of upstart greatness to observe and watch For those poor trifles, which the noble mind Neglects and scorns. Johnson's Sejamis His speech was answered with a general noise Of acclamation, doubtless signs of joys Which soldiers uttered as they forward went, The sure forerunner of a fair event. Sir John Beaumont When all thy mountains clap their hands in joy, And all thy cataracts thunder — " That 's the Doy !" O. W. Holme* IC ACCOMPLISHMENTS - ACCUSATION - ACTION - ACTIVITY. . ACCOMPLISHMENTS. She is of the best blood, yet betters it With all the graces of an excellent spirit : Mild as the infant rose, and innocent As when heav'n lent her us. Her mind as well As face, is yet a paradise untainted With blemishes, or the spreading weeds of vice. Robert Baron's Mirza. Her even carriage is as far from coyness As from immodesty ; — in play, in dancing, In suffering courtship, in requiting kindness, In use of places — hours — and companions, Free as the sun, and nothing more corrupted ; As circumspect as Cynthia in her vows, And constant as the centre to observe them. George Chapman. Accomplishments were native to her mind, Like precious pearls within a clasping shell, And winning grace her every act refined, Like sunshine shedding beauty where it fell. Mrs. Hale. ACCUSATION. Give me good proofs of what you have alleged : 'Tis not enough to say — in such a bush There lies a thief- — in such a cave a beast, — But you must show him to me ere I shoot, Else I may kill one of my straggling sheep : I'm fond of no man's person but his virtue. Crown 1 a 1st part of Henry VI. None have accused thee ; 't is thy conscience cries, The witness in the soul that never dies ; Its accusation, like the moaning wind, Of wintry midnight moves thy startled mind; Oh ! may it melt thy hardened heart, and bring From out thy frozen soul the life of spring. Mrs. Hale. ACTION. Away then, — work with boldness and with speed, On greatest actions greatest dangers feed. Madoe's Lust of Dominion. Whilst timorous knowledge stands considering'. Audacious ignorance hath done the deed. For who knows most, the more he knows to doubt ; Tue ieast discourse is commonly most stout. Daniel. For good and well must in our actions meet ; Wicked is not much worse than indiscreet. Dr. Donnie. Good actions crown themselves with laoting bays, Who deserves well needs not another's praise. Heath's Clanstella, Of every noble action, the intent Is to give worth reward, — vice punishment. Beaumont and Fletcher's Captain. If thou doest ill, the joy fades, not the pains ; If well, the pain doth fade, the joy remains. George Herbert. The body sins not, 'tis the will That makes the action good or ill. Herrick. He that pursues an act that is attended With doubtful issues, for the means, had need Of policy and force to make ii speed. T. Nabb's Unfortunate Mother. Be just in all thy actions, and if join'd With those that are not, never change thy mind ; If aught obstruct thy course, yet stand not still, But wind about till thou hast topp'd the hill. Denham. Actions rare and sudden, do commonly Proceed from fierce necessity: or else From some oblique design, which is asham'd To show itself in the public road. Sir William Davenavt. Our unsteady actions cannot be Manag'd by rules of strict philosophy. Sir Robert Howard. Some place the bliss in action, some in ease, Those call it pleasure, and contentment these. Pope. Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or sway; But to act, that each to-morrow Finds us fuicner than to-day. Longfellow's Poems ACTIVITY. Celerity is never more admiFed Than by the negligent. Shake. Ant. and Cleo, If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere well It were done quickly. Shaks. Macbeth. Wise men ne'er sit and wail their loss, But cheerly seek how to redress their harm. Shaks. Henry VI. Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, Which we ascribe to heaven : the fated sky Gives us free scope ; only doth backward pull Our slow designs, when we ourselves are dull. Shaks. All's weft ADVERSITY. 11 Take the instant way ; For honour travels in a strait so narrow, Where one hut goes abreast : keep then the path : For emulation hath a thousand sons, That one by one pursue : if you give way, Or edge aside from the direct forthright, Like to an enter'd tide, they all rush by, And leave you hindmost. Shaks. Troi. and Cress. 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. Shaks. All's well. Come, — I have learn'd, that fearful commenting Is laden servitor to dull delay; Delay leads impotent and snail-pac'd beggary. Then fiery expedition be my wing, Jove's Mercury, and herald for a king ! Go, muster men : my counsel is my shield : We must be brief, when traitors brave the field. Shaks. Richard III. Time, thou anticipat'st my dread exploits : The flighty purpose never is o'ertook, Unless the deed go with it : from this moment, The very firstlings of my heart shall be The firstlings of my hand. And even now, To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and done. Shaks. Macbeth. Due entrance he disdain'd, and in contempt At one slight bound high overleap'd all bound Oi' hill or highest wall, and sheer within Lights on his feet. Milton's Paradise Lost. How slow the time To the warm soul, that, in the very instant It forms, would execute a great design ! Thomson's Coriolanus. The keen spirit Seizes the prompt occasion, — makes the thought Start into instant action, and at once Plans and performs, resolves and executes ! Hannah More's -Daniel. My days, though few, have passed below In much of joy though more of woe ; Yet still, in hours of love or strife, I've 'scap'd the weariness of life. Byron's Giaour. Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us Footsteps on the sands of time. Longfellow s Poems. Let us then be up and doing ; With a heart for any fate, Still achieving, still pursuing, Leam to labour and to wait. Longfellow. Run if you like, but try to keep your breath ; Work like a man, but don't be work'd to death. O. W. Holmes ADVERSITY. He who hath never warr'd with misery, Nor ever tugg'd with fortune and distress, Hath had n' occasion, nor no field to tiy The strength and forces of his worthiness ; Those parts of judgment which felicity Keeps as conceal'd, affliction must express, And only men show their abilities, And what they are, in their extremities. Daniel on the Earl of Southampton. By adversity are wrought The greatest works of admiration, And all the fair examples of renown, Out of distress and misery are grown. Daniel on the Earl of Southampton. Not one care wanting hour my life had tasted ; But from the very instant of my birth, Incessant woes my tired heart have wasted, And my poor thoughts are ignorant of mirth. Look how one wave another still pursueth, When some great tempest holds their troops in chase ; Or as one hour another close reneweth, Or posting day supplies another's place, So do the billows of affliction beat me, And hand in hand the storms of mischief go ; Successive cares with utter ruin threat me, Grief is enchain'd with grief, and woe with woe. Samuel Brandon's Oclaria. Through danger safety comes — through trouble rest. John Marston. Perfumes, the more they're chaf 'd the more they render Their pleasant scents; and so affliction Expresseth virtue fully, whether true Or else adulterate. John Webstei. Like a ball that bounds According to the force with which 'twas tbrowr So in affliction's violence, he that's wise, The more he's cast down, will the higher rise, Nabb's Microcoria* Though affliction, at the first, doth vej Most virtuous natures, from the sense that 'tis 12 ADVERSITY. Unjustly laid ; yet when the amazement, which That new pain brings, is worn away, they then Embrace oppression straight, with such Obedient cheerfulness, as if it came From heaven, not man. Sir William DavenanVs Fair Favourite. Sweet are the uses of adversity ; Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head : And this our life, exempt from public haunt, Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in every thing. Shaks. As you like it. As we do turn our backs From our companion, thrown into his grave ; So his familiars to his buried fortunes Slink all away ; leave their false vows with him, Like empty purses pick'd : and this poor self, A dedicated beggar to the air, With his disease of all-shunn'd poverty, Walks, like contempt, alone. Shaks. Timon. Where you are liberal of your loves and counsels, Be sure you be not loose ; for those you make friends, And give your hearts to, when they once perceive The least rub in your fortunes, fall away Like water from ye, never found again, But where they mean to sink ye. Shaks. Henry VIII. Then was I a tree, Whose boughs did bend with fruit; but, in one night, A storm, or robbery, call it what you will, Shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves, And left me bare to weather. Shaks. Cymbeline. Such a house broke ! So noble a master fallen ! all gone ! and not One friend, to take his fortune by the arm, And go along with him. Shaks. Timon. But myself Who had the world as my confectionary, The mouths, the tongues, the eyes and hearts of men At duty, more than I could frame employment; That numberless upon me stuck, as leaves Do on the oak, have, with one winter's brush Fell from their boughs, and left me open, bare For every storm that blows ; I, to bear this, That never knew but better, is some burden. Shuks. Timon. They answer in a joint and corporate voice, Than now they are at fall, — want treasure — cannot Do what they would ; are sorry — you are honour- able — But yet they could have wish'd — they knew not — Something had been amiss — a noble nature May catch a wrench — would all were all well — 'tis pity — And so, intending other serious matters, After distasteful looks, and these hard fractions, With certain half caps, and cold moving nods, They froze me into silence. Shaks. Timon. Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens ; • 'Tis just the fashion : wherefore do you look Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there ? Shaks. As you like it. Nay then farewell ! I have touch'd the highest point of all my great- ness; And, from that 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 Shaks. Henry VIII O father abbot, An old man, broken with the storms of state, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye ; Give him a little earth for charity. Shaks. Henry fill His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him , For then, and not till then, he felt himselr* And found the blessedness of being little And, to add greater honours to his age Than man could give him, he died, fea.ing God. Shaks Kenry VIII. 'Tis certain, greatness, once fallen out with for- tune, Must fall out with men too : what tne declin'd is, He shall as soon read in the eyes &f others, As feel in his own fall ; for men, 'ike butterflies, Show not their mealy wings but to the summer. Shaks. Troi. and Cres. If I once fall, how many knees, now bending, Would stamp' the heel of hate into my breast ! Sir A. Hunt's Julian. I am not now in fortune's power: He that is down, can fall no lower. Butler's Hudibras Now let us thank th' eternal power ; convine'd That heaven but tries our virtue by affliction : That oft the cloud which wraps the present hour, Serves but to brighten all our future days. Brown's Barbarossa. ADVERSITY. 13 Daughter of Jove, relentless power, Thou tamer of the human breast, Whose iron scourge, and torturing hour, The bad affright, afflict the best! Bound in thy adamantine chain, The proud are taught to taste of pain, And purple tyrants vainly groan, With pangs unfelt before, unpitied, and alone. Gray's Hymn to Adversity. The gods in bounty work up storms about us, That give mankind occasion to exert Their hidden strength, and throw out into practice Virtues that shun the day, and lie conceal'd In the smooth seasons and the calms of life. Addison's Cato. How sudden are the blows of fate ! what change, What revolution, in the state of glory ! Cibber's Ccesar in Egypt. 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 at his utmost need, By those his former bounty fed. Dryden's Alexander's Feast. To exult Ev'n o'er an enemy oppress'd, and heap Affliction on the afflicted, is the mark, And the mean triumph of a dastard soul. Smollett's Regicide. Affliction is the wholesome soil of virtue : Where patience, honour, sweet humanity, Calm fortitude, take root, and strongly flourish. Mallet and Thomson's Alfred. Who has not known ill fortune, never knew Himself, or his own virtue. Mallet and Thomson's Alfred. Ye good distress'd ! Ye noble few ! who here unbending stand Beneath life's pressure, yet bear up awhile, And what your bounded view, which only saw A little part, deem'd evil, is no more ; The storms of wintry time will quickly pass, And one unbounded spring encircle all. Thomson's Seasons. 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. We bleed, we tremble, we forget, we smile, The mind turns fool, before the cheek is dry. Young's Night Thoughts. All evils natural are moral goods ; All discipline, indulgence, on the whole. Young's Night Thoughts When a great mind falls, The noble nature of man's gen'rous heart Doth bear him up against the shame of ruin, With gentle censure, using but his faults As modest means to introduce his praise ; For pity, like a dewy twilight, comes To close th' oppressive splendour of his day, And they who but admired him in his height His altered state lament, and love him fall'n. Joanna Baillie's Basil. For as when merchants break, o'erthrown Like ninepins, they strike others down. Butler's Hudibras. Tho' losses and crosses Be lessons right severe, There 's wit there, ye '11 get there, Ye '11 find nae other where. Burns's Epistle to Davie The brave unfortunate are our best acquaintance ; They show us virtue may be much distress'd, And give us their example how to suffer. Francis's Eugenia. In this wild world the fondest and the best, Are the most tried, most troubled, and distress'd Crabbe. That saddening hour when bad men hotlier press : But these did shelter him beneath their roof, When less barbarians would have cheer'd him less, And fellow countrymen have stood aloof — In aught that tries the heart, how few withstand the proof! Byron's Childe Harold. Of all the horrid, hideous notes of woe, Sadder than owl-songs on the midnight blast, Is that portentous phrase, " J 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 7nores," With a long memorandum of old stories. Byron's Don Juan. I have not quailed to danger's brow When high and happy — need I now? Byron's Giaour. One thought alone he could not — dared not meet. " Oh how these tidings will Medora greet ?" Then — only then — his clanking hands he raised And strain'd with rage the chain on which ho gaz'd. Byron's Corsait The good are better made by ill: — As odours crush'd are sweeter still ! Rogers's Jacqueline 14 ADVICE. Adversity's cold frosts will soon be o'er ; It heralds brighter days : — the joyous Spring Is cradled on the Winter's icy breast, And yet comes flushed in beauty. Mrs. Hemans, ADVICE. Let me entreat you, For to unfold the anguish of your heart : Mishaps are master'd by advice discreet, And counsel mitigates the greatest smart. Spenser's Fairy Queen. Know when to speak ; for many times it brings Danger, to give the best advice to kings. Herrick. Direct not him, whose way himself will choose ; 'Tis breath thou lack'st, and that breath wilt thou lose. Shaks. Richard II. Let him be so, For counsel still is folly's deadly foe. Shaks. London Prodigal. I pray thee, cease thy counsel. Which falls into mine ears as profitless As water in a sieve. Shales. Much ado. Love all, trust a few, Do wrong to none ; be able for thine enemy Rather in power than use ; and keep thy friend Under thine own life's key : be check'd for silence, But never tax'd for speech. Shaks. AIVs well. Beware Of entrance to a quarrel ; but being in, Bear it that the opposer may beware of thee. Shaks. Hamlet. Give every man thine ear but few thy voice : Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judg- ment. Shaks. Hamlet. Neither a borrower nor a lender be : For loan oft loses both itself and friend ; And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. Shaks. Hamlet. Love thyself last ; cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Shaks. Henry VIII. Thy honourable metal may be wrought From that it is disposed : therefore 'tis meet That noble minds keep ever with their likes : For wha ..o firm, that cannot be seduced ? Shaks. Julius Ccesar. Give thy thoughts no tongue, Nor any unproportioned thought his act Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them to thy soul with hooks of steel ; But do not dull thy palm with entertaiment Of each new hatch'd unfledged comrade. SJiaks. Hamlet I shall the effect of this good lesson keep As watchman to my heart. Shaks. Hamlet. 'Tis all men's office to speak patience To those that wring under the load of sorrow ; But no man's virtue, nor sufficiency, To be so moral, when he shall endure The like himself. Therefore give me no counsel : My griefs cry louder than advertisement. Shaks. Much ado. Men Can 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, Fetter strong madness in a silken thread, Charm ache with air, and agony with words. A wretched soul, bruised with adversity, We bid be quiet, when we hear it cry; But were we burdened with like weight of pain, As much, or more, we should ourselves complain. Shaks. Much ado. What could I more ? I warn'd thee, I admonish'd thee, foretold The danger, and the lurking enemy That lay in wait ; beyond this had been force, And force upon free will hath here no place. ■> Milton's Paradise Lost. Learn to dissemble wrongs,' to smile at injuries, And suffer crimes thou want'st the power to punish : Be easy, affable, familiar, friendly: Search, and know all mankind's mysterious ways ; But trust the secret of thy soul to none : This is the way, This only, to be safe in such a world as this is Rome's Ulysses. Saints, And cool-soul'd hermits, mortify'd with care, And bent by age and palsies, whine out maxims, Which their brisk youth had blushed at. HilVs Henry V Aye free, off han', your story tell When wi' a bosom crony; But still keep something 1o yoursel Ye scarcely tell to onv. ADIEU- AFFECTION - AGE. 15 Conceal yoursel as weel's ye can Frae critical dissection; But keek thro' ev'ry other man, Wi' sharpen'd shy inspection. Buna's Epistle to a Young Friend. The worst men often give the best advice. Bailey's Festus. ADIEU. Then comes 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. Crable. We part — But this shall be a token thou hast been A friend to him who pluck'd these lovely flowers, And sent them as a tribute to a friend, And a remembrance of the few kind hours Which lightened on the darkness of my path. Percival. On the door you will not enter, I have gazed too long — adieu ! Hope withdraws her peradventure — Death is near me — and not you. Miss Barrett. (See Farewell.) AFFECTION. What war so cruel, or what siege so sore, As that which strong affections do apply Against the fort of reason, evermore To bring the soul into captivity ! Spenser's Fairy Queen. Affection is the savage beast, Which always us annoyeth: And never lets us live in rest, But still our good destroyeth. Affection's power who can suppress, And master when it sinneth, Of worthy praise deserves no less, Than he that kingdoms winneth. Brandon's Octavia. Of all the tyrants that the world affords, Our own affections are the fiercest lords. Earl of Sterline's Julius Caesar. you much partial gods ! Why gave ye men affections, and not power To govern them ? What I by fate should shun, 1 most affect. Lodovick Barrey. Affections injur'd By tyranny, or rigour of compulsion, Like tempest-threatened trees, unfirmly rooted, Ne'er spring to timely growth. John Ford's Broken Heart O ! there is one affection which no stain Of earth can ever darken ; — when two find, The softer and the manlier, that a chain Of kindred taste has fastened mind to mind , 'T is an attraction from all sense refined ; The good can only know it ; 'tis not blind, As love is unto baseness ; its desire Is but with hands entwined to lift our being higher Percival's Poems Ah ! could you look into my heart, And watch your image there ! You would own the sunny loveliness Affection makes it wear. Mrs. Osgood AGE. The careful cold hath nipt my rugged rind, And in my face deep furrows eld hath plight ; My head besprent with hoary frost I find, And by mine eye the crow his claw doth wright : Delight is laid abed, and pleasure past ; No sun now shines, clouds have all overcast. Spenser's Shepherd's Calendar. These old fellows have Their ingratitude in them hereditary : Their blood is cak'd, 'tis cold, it seldom flows ; 'Tis lack of kindly warmth, they are not kind And nature, as it grows again toward earth, Is fashion'd for the journey — dull and heavy. Shaks. Timon. let us have him ; for his silver hairs Will purchase us a good opinkn, And buy men's voices to commend our deeds ; It shall be said, — his judgment rul'd our hands ; Our youths, and wildness shall no wit appear, But all be bury'd in his gravity. Shaks. Julius Casar, Youth no less becomes The light and careless livery that it wears, Than settled age his sables and his weeds, Importing health, and graveness. Shaks. Hamlel Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty : For in my youth I never did apply Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood. Shaks. As you like U 1 know thee not, old man : fall to thy prayers . How ill white hairs become a fool and jester • Shahs. Henry IP AGE. O, sir, you arc old ; Nature in you stands on the very verge Of her confine ; you should be rul'd and led By some discretion, that discerns your state Better than you yourself. Shales. Lear. I have liv'd long enough : my way of life Ts fall'n into the sere, the yellow leaf: And that which should accompany old age, As honour, love, ob.edience, 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, and dare not. Sliaks. Macbeth, The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon ; With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side ; * Jlis youthful hose well sav'd, a world too wide For his shrunk shank ; and his big manly voice, Turning again towards childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Shales. As you like it. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness, and mere oblivion ; Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans every thing. Shaks. As you like it. Behold where age's wretched victim lies, See his head trembling, and his half clos'd eyes, Frequent for breath his panting bosom heaves j To broken sleep his remnant sense he gives, And only by his pains, awaking, finds he lives. Prior's Solomon. These are the effects of doting age, Vain doubts, and idle cares, and over caution. Dryden's Sebastian. Thirst of power and of riches now bear sway, The passion and infirmity of age. Frowde's Philotas. 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. Rome's Jane Shore. Those wise old men, those plodding grave state pedants, Forget the course of youth; their crooked pru- dence, To baseness verging still, forgets to take Into their fine-spun schemes the generous heart, That through the cobweb system bursting, lays Their labours waste. Tliamson's lancred and Sigismunda. Of no distemper, of no blast he died, But fell like autumn fruit that mellowed long, Even wonder'd at because he dropped no sooner J Fate seem'd to wind him up for fourscore years. Yet freshly ran he on ten winters more, Till, like a clock worn out with eating time, The wheels of weary life at last stood still. Lee's GEdipua Learn to live well, or fairly make your will ; You've play'd, and lov'd, and ate, and drank your fill, Walk sober off before a sprightlier age Comes tittering on, and shoves you from the stage : Leave such to trifle with more grace and ease, Whom folly pleases, and whose follies please. Pope. This heart, by age and grief congeal'd, Is no more sensible of love's endearments, Than are our barren rocks to morn's sweet dew, That calmly trickles down their rugged cheeks. Mitter't Mahomet His mien is lofty, his demeanour great, Nor sprightly folly wantons in his air, Nor dull serenity becalms his eyes, Such had I trusted once as soon as seen, But cautious age suspects the flattering form, And only credits what experience tells. Dr. Johnson's Irene. The still returning tale, and lingering jest, Perplex the fawning niece, and pamper'd guest, While growing hopes scarce awe the gath'ring . sneer, And scarce a legacy can bribe to hear. Dr. Johnson's Vanity of Human Wishes. Though old, he still retained His manly sense, and energy of mind. Virtuous and wise he was, but not severe ; He still rcmember'd that he once was young : His easy presence check'd no decent joy, Him even the dissolute admir'd ; for he A graceful looseness, when he pleas'd, put on, And laughing could instruct. Armstrong's Art of preserving Health, Fresh hopes are hourly sown In furrow'd brows : To gentle life's descent, We shut our eyes, and think it is a plain : We take fair days in winter, for the spring ; And turn our blessings into bane. Young's Night Thoughts, O my coevals ! remnants of ourselves ! Poor human ruins tottering o'er the grave ! Shall we, shall aged men, like aged trees, Strike deeper their vile root, and closer cling, AGRICULTURE - ALARM - AMAZEMENT - AMBITION. 17 Still more enamour'd of this wretched soil ! Shall our pale, wither'd hands be still stretch' d out, Trembling, at once with eagerness and age ? With av'rice, and convulsions, grasping hard ? Grasping at air ; for what has earth beside ? Man wants but little ; nor that little long ; How soon must he resign his very dust, Which frugal nature lent him for an hour ! Young's Night Thoughts. What folly can be ranker ? like our shadows, Our wishes lengthen as our sun declines. Young's Night Thoughts. Age should fly concourse, cover in retreat Defects of judgment, and the will subdue ; Walk thoughtful on the silent, solemn shore Of that vast ocean it must sail so soon. Young's Night TJioughts. 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. Yet time, who changes all, had alter'd him In soul and aspect as in age : years steal Fire from the mind as vigour from the limb : And life's enchanted cup but sparkles near the brim. Byron's Childe Harold. There age, essaying to recall the past, After long striving for the hues of youth, At the sad labour of the toilet, and Full many a glance at the too faithful mirror, Prankt, forth in all the pride of ornament, Forgets itself, and trusting to the falsehood Of the indulgent beams, which show, yet hide, Believed itself forgotten, and was fool'd. Byron's Doge of Venice. 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. Bryant's Poems. True, time will sear and blanch my brow : Well — I shall sit with aged men, And my good glass will tell me how A grisly beard becomes me then. And should no foul dishonour lie Upon my head when I am grey, Love yet may search my fading eye, And smooth the path of my decay. Bryant's Poems. I'm thirty-five, I'm thirty-five! Nor would I make it less, For not a year has pass'd away Unmark'd by happiness. B And who would drop one pleasant link From memory's golden chain ? Or lose a sorrow, losing too The love that soothed the pain ? Oh ! still may heaven within my soul Keep truth and love alive, — Then angel graces will be mine, Though over thirty-five. Mrs. Hale. AGRICULTURE. In ancient times, the sacred plough employ'd The kings, and awful fathers of mankind : And some, with whom compared your insect tribes Are but the beings of a summer's day, Have held the scale of empire, ruled the storm Of mighty war, then, with unweary'd hand, Disdaining little delicacies, seized The plough, and greatly independent lived. Thomson's Seasons, ALARM. What's the business, That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley The sleeper of the house ? — speak, speak. Sliaks. Macbeth AMAZEMENT Why stand you thus amazed ? methinks your eyes Are fixed in meditation ; and all here Seem like so many senseless statues ; As if your souls had suffer'd an eclipse Betwixt your judgment? and affections. Swetiiam — the Woman Hater AMBITION. O sacred hunger of ambitious mindes, And impotent desire of men to raine ! Whom neither dread of God, that devils bindes. Nor lawes of men, that common weales containe, Nor bands of nature, that wilde beastes rcstraine, Can keep from outrage, and from doing wrong, Where they may hope a kingdome to obtains No faith so firm, no trust can be so strong, No love so lasting then, that may enduren long. Spenser's Fairy Queen. Some thought to raise themselves to high degree By riches and unrighteous reward ; Some by close should'ring ; some by flatteree Others through friends ; others for base regard , And all, by wrong waies, f» *&emselves prepared 2* LS AMBITION. Those that were up themselves, kept others low ; Those that were low themselves, held others hard, Ne suffered them to ryse or greater grow : But every one did strive his fellow down to throw. Spenser's Fairy Queen. Nature, that framed us of four elements, Warring within our breasts for regimen, Doth teach us all to have aspiring minds : Our souls, whose faculties can comprehend The wondrous architecture of the world, And measure ev'ry wand'ring planet's course, Still climbing after knowledge infinite, And always moving as the restless spheres, Wills us to wear ourselves, and never rest Until we reach the ripest fruit of all, That perfect bliss and sole felicity, The sweet fruition of a heav'nly crown. Mario's 1st part of Tamerlane the Great. Who soars too near the sun, with golden wings, Melts them ; — to ruin his own fortune brings. Shales. Cromwell. Thriftless ambition ! that will ravin up Thine own life's means. Shaks. Macbeth. Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition : By that sin fell the angels ; how can man then, The image of his maker, hope to win by't ? Shaks. Henry VIII. I have ventured, Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory : But far beyond my depth : my high-blown pride At length broke under me ; and now has left me, Weary, and old with serfice, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me. Shaks. Henry VIII. Vdin pomp, and glory of this world, I hate ye ; I feel my heart new open'd : O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours ! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have ; And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again. Shaks. Henry VIII. 'Tis a common proof, That lowliness is young ambition's ladder, Whereto the climber upwards turns his face : But when he once attains the upmost round, J fe tnen unto the ladder turns his back, I iooks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees hy which he did ascend. Shikt. Julius Casar. Men at some time are masters of their fates : The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings. Shaks. Julius Ccesar Ye gods, it doth amaze me, A man of such a feeble temper should So get the start of the majestic world, And bear the palm alone. Shaks. Julius Ccesar. He hath brought many captives to Rome, Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill : Did this in Caesar seem ambitious ? When that the poor have cried, Csesar hath wept: Ambition should be made of sterner stuff. Slacks. Julius Caesar. Examples, gross as earth, exhort me : Witness, this army, of such mass, and charge, Led by a delicate and tender prince ; Whose spirit, with divine ambition pufF'd, Makes mouths at the invisible event ; Exposing what is mortal, and unsure, To all that fortune, death, and danger dare, Even for an egg-shell. Shaks. Hamlet. I have no spur To prick the sides of my intent, but only Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself, And falls on the other side. Shaks. Macbeth, That is a step, On which I must fall down, or else o'erleap, For in my way it lies. Shaks. Macbeth. Yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o' the milk of human kindness To catch the nearest way ; thou would'st be great ; Art not without ambition ; but without The illness should attend it : what thou would'st highly, That would'st thou holily : would'st not play false, And yet would'st wrongly win. Shaks. Macbeth. Follow I must, I cannot go before, While Gloster bears this base and humble mind. Were I a man, a duke, and next of blood, I would remove these tedious stumbling blocks, And smooth my way upon their headless necks. Sliaks. Henry VI. Away with scrupulous wit ! now arms must rule, And fearless minds climb soonest unto crowns Sliaks. Henry VL Ambition hath but two steps : the lowest, Blood; the highest, envy. Lillys MidaM. AMBITION. 19 Ambition hath one hee] nail'd in hell, Though she stretch her fingers to touch the hea- vens. Lilly's Midas. Ye gods ! what havoc does ambition make Among your works ! Addison's Cato. How dost thou wear, and weary out thy days, Restless ambition, never at an end ? Daniel's Philotas. Of all the passions which possess the soul, None so disturbs vain mortals' minds, As vain ambition, which so blinds The fight of them, that nothing can control, Nor curb their thoughts who will aspire ; This raging, vehement desire, Of sovereignty no satisfaction finds, But in the breasts of men doth ever roll The restless stone of Sisyph' to torment them, And as his heart, who stole the heav'nly fire, The vulture gnaws, so doth that monster rent them: Had they the world, the world would not content them. Earl of Sterlings Darius. Farewell for ever: so have I discern'd An exhalation that would be a star Fall, when the sun forsook it, in a sink. Chapman's 2d part of Byron's Conspiracy. Man was mark'd A friend, in his creation, to himself, And may, with Jit ambition, conceive The greatest blessings, and the brightest honours Appointed for him, if he can achieve them The right and noble way. Philip Massinger's Guardian. Our natures are like oil ; compound us with any thing Yet still we strive, to swim upon the top. Beaumont and Fletcher's Loyal Subject. Be not with honour's gilded baits beguil'd, Nor think ambition wise, because 'tis brave ; For though we like it, as a forward child, 'Tis so unsound, her cradle is her grave. Sir W. Davenant's Gondibert. Ambition's monstrous stomach does increase By eating, and it fears to starve, unless It still may feed, and all it sees devour : Ambition is not tir'd with toil nor cloy'd with power. Sir W. Davenant's Playhouse to let. Ambition is the mind's immodesty. Sir W. Davenant's Gondibert. Ambition is a spirit in the world, That causes all the ebbs and flows of nations. Keeps mankind sweet by action : without that, The world would be a filthy settled mud. Crown's Ambitious Statesman. Ambition's eyes Look often higher than their merit's rise. Rowland Watkyns. Ambition is like love, impatient Both of delays and rivals. Denham's Sophy, Ambition is a lust that's never quenched, Grows more enflamed, and madder by enjoyment. Otway's Caius Marius. Ambition, like a torrent, ne'er looks back, It is a swelling, and the last affection A high mind can put off. It is a rebel Both to the soul and reason, and enforces All laws, all conscience ; treads upon religion, And offers violence to nature's self Ben Jonson's Catiline. Here we may reign secure, and in my choice To reign is worth ambition, though in hell. Milton's Paradise Lost. His trust was with th' Eternal to be deem'd Equal in strength, and rather than be less Car'd not to be at all ; with that care lost Went all his fear : of God, or hell, or worse, He reck'd not Milton's Paradise Lost Lifted up so high I 'sdain'd subjection, and thought one step higher Would set me highest. Milton's Paradise Lost. Therefore with manlier objects we must try His constancy, with such that have more show Of worth, of honour, glory, and popular praise, Rocks jFhereon greatest men have oftest wreck'd. Milton's Paradise Regained. O dire ambition! what infernal power Unchain'd thee from thy native depth of hell, To stalk the earth With thy destructive train, Murder and lust ! to waste domestic peace And every heartfelt joy. Brown's Barbarossa. O false ambition ! Thou lying phantom ! whither hast thou lured mo * Ev'n to this giddy height ; where now I stand Forsaken, comfortless ; with not a friend In whom my soul can trust Brown's Barbarosm What 's all the gaudy glitter of a crown ; What but the glaring meteor of ambition. That leads the wretch benighted in his errors, Points to the gulf, and shines upon destruction. Brooke's Gustavus Vgm 20 AMBITION. = Oh ! that some villager, whose early toil Lifts the penurious morsel to his mouth, Had claim'd my birth I ambition had not then Thus step'd 'twixt me and heav'n. Brooke's Gustavus Vasa. Ambition is at a distance A goodly prospect, tempting to the view ; The height delights us, and the mountain top Looks beautiful, because 't is nigh to heaven : But we ne'er think how sandy 's the foundation ; What storms will batter, and what tempests shake Otway's Venice Preserved. Why now my golden dream is out — Ambition, like an early friend, throws back My curtains with an eager hand, o'erjoyed To tell me what I dreamt is true — a crown, Thou bright reward of ever-daring minds; Oh ! how thy awful glory fills my soul ! Nor can the means that got thee dim thy lustre ; For, not men's love, fear pays thee adoration, And fame not more survives from good than evil deeds. Tli' aspiring youth, that fir'd th' Ephesian dome, Outlives, in fame, the pious fool that rais'd it. Cibber's Ricliard III. Ambition is an idol, on whose wings Great minds are carried only to extreme ; To be sublimely great, or to be nothing. Southern's Loyal Brother. Tamerlane. — The world! — 'twould be too little for thy pride! Thou wouldst scale heaven — Bajazet. — I would : — away ! my soul Disdains thy conference. Rowe's Tamerlane. Great souls, g By nature half divine, soar to the stars, And hold a near acquaintance with the gods. Rowe's Royal Convert. What is ambition but desire of greatness ? And what is greatness but extent of power ? But lust of power's a dropsy of the mind, Whose thirst increases, while we drink to quench it, 'Till swoln and stretch'd by the repeated draught, We burst and perish. Higgon's Generous Conqueror. Ambition first sprung from your blest abodes, The glorious fault of angels and of gods ; Thence to their images on earth it flows, And in the breasts of kings and heroes glows. Most souls, 'tis true, but peep out once an age, Dull sullen pns'ners in the body's cage ; Dun lights of life, that burn a length of years [l»elcs8 unsec... as lamps in sepulchres; Like eastern kings, a lazy state they keep, And, close confin'd to their own palace, sleep. Pope. The gods, to curse Pamela with her pray'rs, Gave the gilt coach and dappled Flanders mares, The shining robes, rich jewels, beds of state, And to complete her bliss, — a fool for mate. She glares in balls, front boxes, and the ring, A vain, unquiet, glittering, wretched thing ! — Pride, pomp, and state, but reach her outward part; She sighs, — and is no duchess at her heart. Pope. Oh, sons of earth ! attempt ye still to rise, By mountains pil'd on mountains, to the skies ? Heaven still with laughter the vain toil surveys, And buries madmen in the heaps they raise. Popels Essay on Man. Unnumber'd suppliants crowd preferment's gate Athirst for wealth, and burning to be great, Delusive fortune hears the incessant call, They mount, they shine, — evaporate and fall. Dr. Johnson's Vanity of Human Wishes, This sov'reign passion, scornful of restraint, Even from the birth affects supreme command, Swells in the breast, and with resistless force, O'erbears each gentler motion of the mind. Dr. Johnson's Irene Alas ! ambition makes my little less : Embitt'ring the possess'd : why wish for more ? Wishing, of all employments, is the worst ; Philosophy's reverse, and health's decay ! Young's Night Thoughts. Thy bosom burns for power ; What station charms thee ? I'll install thee there ; 'Tis thine. And art thou greater than before ? Then thou before wast something less than man. Has thy new post bctray'd thee into pride ? That treach'rous pride betrays thy dignity, That pride defames humanity, and calls The being mean, wmch staffs or strings can raise. Young's Night Thoughts Net kings alone, Each villager has his ambition too; No sultan prouder than his fetter'd slave : Slaves build their little Babylons of straw, Echo the proud Assyrian in their hearts, And cry — " Behold the wonders of my might !" And why ? because immortal as their lord ; And souls immortal must for ever heave At something great ; the glitter or the gold The praise of mortals or the praise of Heaven. Young's Night Thought* AMBITION. 21 Fame is the shade of immortality, And in itself a shadow. Soon as caught, Contemn'd, — it shrinks to nothing in the grasp. Consult th' ambitious, 'tis ambition's cure : And is this all ? cry'd Caesar at his height, Disgusted Young's Night Thoughts. So strong the zeal t' immortalize himself Beats in the breast of man, that ev'n a few, Few transient years won from the abyss abhorr'd Of blank oblivion seem a glorious prize, And even to a clown. Compels Task. Dream after dream ensues, And still they dream that they shall still succeed, And still are disappointed. Cowper's Task. On the summit see, The seals of office glitter in his eyes ; He climbs, — he pants, — he grasps them. At his heels, Close at his heels, a demagogue ascends, And with a dext'rous jerk soon twists him down, And wins them, but to lose them in his turn. Cowper's Task. Is it delusion this ? Or wears the mind of man within itself A conscious feeling of its destination ? What say these suddenly imposed thoughts, Which mark such deepen' d traces in the brain Qn vivid real persuasion, as do make My nerved foot tread firmer on the earth, And my dilating form tower on its way ? Joanna Baillie's Ethwald. I am as one Who doth attempt some lofty mountaiit's height, And having gained what to the upcast eye The summit's point appear'd, astonish'd sees Its cloudy top, majestic and enlarged, Towering aloft, as distant as before. Joanna Bailiie's Ethwald. It ever is the marked propensity Of restless and aspiring minds to look Into the stretch of dark futurity. Joanna Bailiie's Ethwald. To th' expanded and aspiring soul, To be but still the thing it long has been, Is misery, e'en though enthron'd it were Under the cope of high imperial state. Joanna Bailiie's Ethwald. The cheat, ambition, eager to espouse Dominion, courts it with a lying show, And shines in borrow' d pomp to serve a turn : But the match made, the farce is at an end ; And all the hireling equipage of virtues, Faith, honour, justice, gratitude, and friendship, Discharg'd at once. Jeffrey's Edwin, You have deeply ventured, But all must do so who would greatly win. Byron's Doge of Venice. Ay, — father ! — I have had those earthly visions And noble aspirations in my youth, To make my own the mind of other men, The enlightener of nations : and to rise I knew not whither — it might be to fall ; But fall, even as the mountain cataract, Which having leapt from its more dazzling height, Even in the foaming strength of its abyss, Lies low but mighty still. — But this is past, My thoughts mistook themselves. Byron's Manfred. He who ascends to mountain tops, shall find The loftiest peaks most wrapt in clouds and snow ; He who surpasses or subdues mankind, Must look down on the hate of those below. v Though high above, the sun of glory glow, And far beneath, the earth and ocean spread ; Round him are icy rocks, and loudly blow Contending tempests on his naked head, And thus reward the toils which to those summits led. Byron's Childe Harold. But quiet to quick bosoms is a hell, Aid there hath been thy bane ; there is a fire Aid motion in the soul which will not dwell In its own narrow being, but aspire, Beyond the fitting medium of desire ; And but once kindled, quenchless evermore Preys upon high adventure, nor can tire Of aught but rest; a fever at the core, Fatal to him who bears, — to all who ever bore. This makes the madmen, who have made men mad By their contagion, conquerors and kings, Founders of sects and systems, to whom add Sophists, bards, statesmen, all unquiet things Which stir too strongly the soul's secret springs, And are themselves the fools to those they fool ; Envied, yet not enviable ! what stings Are theirs ! one breast laid open were a school Which would unteach mankind, the lust to shino or rule. Byron's Childe Harola Their breath is agitation, and their life A storm whereon they ride to sink at last, And yet so nurs'd and bigoted to strife, That should their days, surviving perils past, Melt to calm twilight, they feel overcast With sorrow and supineness, and so die ; Even as a flame unfed, which runs to waste AMERICA. With its own flickering or a sword laid by, Which eats into itself, and rusts ingloriously. Byron's Childe Harold. These quenched a moment her ambitious thirst — So Arab deserts drink in summer's rain In vain ! — As fall the dews on quenchless sands, Blood only serves to wash ambitious hands. Byron's Don Juan. Before I knew thee, Mary, Ambition was my angel : I did hear For ever its witched voices in mine ear ; My days were visionary — My nights were like the slumbers of the mad : — And every dream swept o'er me glory clad. Willis' Poems. What is ambition ? 'T is a glorious cheat ! Angels of light walk not so dazzlingly The sapphire walls of Heaven. The flow Of life-time is a graduated scale ; And deeper than the vanities of power, Or the vain pomp of glory, there is writ A standard measuring its worth for heaven. Willis. AMERICA. Poor lost America, high honours missing, Knows nought of smile and nod, and sweet hand- kissing ; Knows nought of golden promises of kings; Knows nought of coronets, and stars, and strings. Dr. Wolcot's Peter Pindar. Still one great clime, in full and free defiance, Yet rears her crest, unconquer'd and sublime, Above the far Atlantic ! she has taught Her Esau brethren that the haughty flag, The floating fence of Albion's feebler crag, May strike to those whose red right hands have bought Rights cheaply earn'd with blood. Still, still, for ever Better, though each man's life-blood were a river, That it should flow and overflow, than creep Through thousand lazy channels in our veins, Dam'd, like the dull canal, with locks and chains, And moving, as a sick man in his sleep, Three paces and then faltering : — better be Where the extinguish'd Spartans still are free, In their proud charnel of Thermopylae, Than stagnate in our marsh, — or o'er the deep Fly, and one cuTcnt to the ocean add, One spirit to the souls our fathers had, One fi eeman more America, to thee ! Byron's Ode. America ! half-brother of the World ! With something good and bad of every land ; Greater than thee have lost their seat — Greater scarce none can stand. •- Bailey- 8 Festu*. \ Land of the West ! though passing brief The record of thine age, Thou hast a name that darkens all On History's wide page ! Let all the blasts of fame ring out — Thine shall be loudest far : Let others boast their satellites — Thou hast the morning star. Thou hast a name whose characters Of light shall ne'er depart ; 'T is stamped upon the dullest brain, And warms the coldest heart; A war-cry fit for any land, Where Freedom's to be won; Land of the West ! it stands alone- It is thy Washington. Eliza Cook's Pi Columbia, child of Britain, — noblest child ; I praise the growing lustre of thy youth, Aid fain would see thy great heart reconciled To love the mother of so blest a birth : For we are one Columbia ! still the same In lineage, language, laws, and ancient fame, The natural nobility of earth. Tupper's Lyrics.^ Thou noblest scion of an ancient root, Born of the forest-king ! spread forth, spn forth,— High to the stars thy tender leaflets shoot, Deep dig thy fibres round the ribs of earth ! From sea to sea, from south to icy North, It must ere long be thine, through good or i To stretch thy sinewy boughs : Go, — wondroi child ! The glories of thy destiny fulfil ; — Remember then thy mother in her age, Shelter her in the tempest, warring wild : Stand thou with us when all the nations rage So furiously together ! — we are one : And, through all time, the calm historic page Shall tell of Britain blest in thee her son. Tupper's Poems. Columbia, Columbia, to glory arise, The queen of the world and the child of the skies. Timothy Dwight. Here the free spirit of mankind, at length, Throws its last fetters ofF; and who shall place A limit to the giant's unchained strength ? Or curb his swiftness in the forward race ? Bryant's Poems, ANCESTRY. And thou, my Country, thou shalt never fall But with thy children. BryanCs Poems. There is no other land like thee, No dearer shore ; Thou art the shelter of the free, The home, the port of liberty, ITiou hast been, and shalt ever be, Till time is o'er. Ere I forget to think upon My land, shall mother curse the son She bore. Percital's Poems. Land of the forest and the rock, Of dark blue lake and mighty river, Of mountains reared on high to mock The storm's career and lightning's shock, My own green Land for ever ! Oh ! never may a son of thine, Where'er his wandering feet incline, Forget the sky that bent above His childhood like a dream of love ! Whittier. I see the living tide roll on, It crowns with fiery towers The icy capes of Labrador, The Spaniard's " land of flowers !" It streams beyond the splintered ridge That parts the northern showers, From eastern rock to sunset wave, The Continent is ours. O. W. Holmes. America ! the sound is like a sword To smite th' oppressor ! like a loving word To cheer the suffering people, while they pray That God would hasten on the promised day, When earth shall be like heaven, and men shall stand, Like brothers round an altar, hand in hand. O ! ever thus, America, be strong, Like cataract's thunder pour the Freeman's song, Till struggling Europe joins the grand refrain ; And startled Asia bursts the despot's chain ; And Afric's manumitted sons, from thee To their own Father-land shall bear the song, —Worth all their toils and tears — of Liberty : For these good deeds, America, be strong ! Mrs. Hale. ANCESTRY. Boast not these titles of your ancestors, Brave youths ; they 're their possessions, none of yours; When your own virtues, equal'd have their names, Twill be but fair to lean upon their fames ; For they are strong supporters ; but, till then, The greatest are but growing gentlemen. It is a wretched thing to trust to reeds , Which all men do, that urge not their own deeds Up to their ancestors ; the river's side, By which you're planted, shows your fruit shall bide; Hang all your rooms with one large pedigree : 'Tis virtue alone is true nobility; Which virtue from your father, ripe, will fall ; Study illustrious him, and you have all. Jonson. I have no urns, no dusty monuments ; No broken images of ancestors, Wanting an ear, or nose ; no forged tables Of long descents, to boast false honours from. JonsorCs Catiline 'Tis poor and not becoming perfect gentry, To build their glories at their fathers' cost ; But at their own expense of blood or virtue, To raise them living monuments ; our birth Is not our own act ; honour upon trust, Our ill deeds forfeit ; and the wealthy sums, Purchas'd by others' fame or sweat, will be Our stain, for we inherit nothing truly But what our actions make us worthy of. Chapman and Shirley's BalL It is, indeed, a blessing, when the virtues Of noble races are hereditary : And do derive themselves from th' imitation Of virtuous ancestors. Nabb's Covent Garden. He that to ancient wreaths can bring no more From his own worth, dies bankrupt on the score. John Cleveland. They that on glorious ancestors enlarge, Produce their debt, instead of their discharge. Young He stands for fame on his forefathers' feet, By heraldry proved valiant or discreet ! Young 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, I am one, Who finds within me a nobility That spurns the idle pratings of the great, And their mean boast of what their fathers weiu, While they themselves are fools effeminate, The scorn of all who Know *Jie worth ot mind And virtue. Percival 2-1 ANGELS -ANGER. ANGELS. Thus they in heaven, above the starry sphere, ITieir happy hours in joy and hymning spent. Milton's Paradise Lost. Angels, contented with their fame in heaven, Seek not the praise of men. Milton's Paradise Lost. Are ye for ever to your sides departed ? Oh ! will ye visit this dim world no more ? Ye whose bright wings a solemn splendour darted , Through Eden's fresh and flowery shades of yore ? Mrs. Hemans. White-wing'd angels meet the child On the vestibule of life. Mrs. E. Oakes Smith. Times of joy and times of woe, Each an angel-presence know. Mrs. E. Oakes Smith. ANGER. Full many mischiefs fellow cruel wrath : Abhorred bloodshed, and tumultuous strife, Unmanly murder, and unthrifty scath, Bitter despite, with rancour's rusty knife, And fretting grief, the enemy of life ; All these, and many evils more, haunt ire. The sweelling spleen, and phrenzy raging rife, The shaking palsy, and saint Francis fire : Such one was wrath, the last of this ungodly tire. Spenser's Fairy Queen. There is not in nature, A thing that makes a man so deferm'd, so beastly, As doth intemp'rate anger. Webster's Dutchess of Malji. Your more manly soul I find Is capable of wrong, and like a flint Throws forth a fire unto the striker's eyes. You bear about you valour's whetstone, anger : Which sets an edge upon the sword, and makes it Cut with a spirit; you conceive fond patience Is an injustice to ourselves; the suiT'ring One injury invites a second, that Calls on a third, till wrongs do multiply And reputation bleed. Thonms Randolph's Muse's Looking- Glass. My rage is not malicious ; like « spark Of tire by steel inforced out of a flint, Tl is no sooner kindled, but extinct (ioffi 's Careless Shepherdess. Madness and anger differ but in this, This is short madness, that long anger is. Charles Aleyn's Creseey. Where there's Power to punish, 't is tyranny to rage ; Anger is no attribute of justice ; 'Tis true she's painted with a sword, but looks As if she held it not ; though war be in Her hand, yet peace dwells in her face. Henry Killegrew's Conspiracy, If I stay, my rage Will hurry me to mischief, better leave her To certain ruin, than betray myself To danger of it Clapthorne's Hollander. The winds, Imprison'd in the caverns of the earth, Break out in hideous earthquakes ; passions so Increase by opposition of all scorns. Clapthorne's Hollander. Anger Is blood, pour'd and perplex'd into a froth ; But malice is the wisdom of our wrath. Sir W. Davenant's Just Italian. In mighty souls, passions, not soon suppress'd, Like wounded whales, do struggle till they die ; By their impatience they increase the smart, Provoke their pains, and vex a harmless dart ; Tossing the mighty mass till they're on ground, Their rage more fatal than the little wound. Sir Francis Fane's Sacrifice, At this the knight grew high in wrath, And lifting hands and eyes up both, Three times he smote on stomach stout, From whence at length these words broke out Butler's Hudifr-as. Anger is like A full hot horse, who being allow'd his way, Self-inettle tires him. Shaks. Henry VIII Now, by the ground that I am banish'd from, Well could I curse away a- winter's night, Though standing naked on a mountain top, Where biting cold would never let grass grow. Shaks. Henry VI. Give him no breath, but now Make boot of his distraction : never anger Made good guard for itself. Shaks. Ant. and Clca. Anger 's my meat ; I sup upon myself, And so shall starve with feeding. Shaks. Cori6lanv8. ANGER. 25 Brutus. — Hear me, for I will speak. Must I give way, and room to your rash choler ? Shall I be frighted when a madman stares ? Cassius. — O gods ! ye gods ! must I endure all this ? Bmtus. — All this ! ay more. Fret till your proud heart break; Go show your slate how choleric you are, And make your bondsman tremble. Must I budge ? Must I observe you ? must I stand and crouch Under your testy humour ? By the gods, You shall digest the venom of your spleen, Though it do split you : for, from this day forth, I '11 use you for my mirth, yea for my laughter, When you are waspish. Shake. Julius Casar. I am burn'd up with inflaming wrath ; A rage, whose heat hath this condition, That nothing can allay, nothing but blood, The blood, and dearest valued blood, of France. Shaks. King John. that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth ! Then with a passion would I shake the world. Shaks. King John. Away to heaven, respective lenity, And fire-eyed fury be my conduct now. Shaks. Romeo and Juliet. This strained passion doth you wrong, my lord : Sweet earl, divorce not wisdom from your honour. Shaks. Henry IV. 1 then, all smarting with my wounds being cold, To be so pester'd with a popinjay, Out of my grief and my impatience, Answer'd neglectingly, I know not what Shaks. Henry IV. I am about to* weep ; but thinking that We are a queen, or long have dream'd so, certain, The daughter of a king, my drops of tears I turn to sparks of fire. Shaks. Henry VIII. "What sudden anger 's this ? how have I reap'd it ? He parted frowning from me, as if ruin Leap'd from his eyes ; so looks the chafed lion Upon the daring huntsman that has gall'd him, Then makes him nothing. Shaks. Henry VIII. It were for me To throw my sceptre at the injurious gods ; To tell them that this world did equal theirs, TiU they had stolen our jewel. S}caks. Ant. and Cleo. Those hearts that start at once into a blaze, And open all their rage, like summer storms At once discharged grow cool again and calm. C. Johnson's Medea. Thus while he spake, each passion dimm'd his face, Thrice changed with pale ire, envy, and despair ; Which marr'd his borrow'd visage, and betray'd Him counterfeit. Milton's Paradise Lost. The elephant is never won with anger ; " Nor must that man, who would reclaim a lion, Take him by the teeth. Dryden's All for Love. Hast thou compacted for a lease of years With hell, that thus thou ventur'st to provoke me? Dryden's Duke of Guise. When anger rushes, unrestrain'd, to action, Like a hot steed, it stumbles in its way : The man of thought strikes deepest, and strikes safest. Savage's Sir Thomas Oterbury. My indignation, like th' imprison'd fire, Pent in the troubled breast of glowing iEtna, Burnt deep and silent TJiomson's Coriolanus. 'T is all in vain, this rage that tears thy bosom ; Like a poor bird that flutters in its cage, Thou beat'st thyself to death. Rome's Jane Shore. •Senseless, and deform'd, Convulsive anger storms at large ; or pale And silent, settles into full revenge. Thomson's Seasons. Then flash' d the living lightning from her eyes, And screams of horror rend th' affrighted 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 glitt'ring dust and painted fragments lie ! Pope's Rape of the Lock. Not youthful kings in battle seized alive, Not scornful virgins who their charms survive, Not ardent lovers robb'd of all their bliss, Not ancient ladies when refused a kiss, Not tyrants fierce that unrepenting die, Not Cynthia when her mantua's pinn'd awry, E'er felt such rage. Pope's Rape of the Lock. Curse on the man that calls Ramescs friend, | And keeps his temper at a tale like this ; WTien rage and rancour are the proper virtues, | And loss of reason is tne mark of men. Young's BusitU I For pale and trembling anger rushes in, I W T ith faltering speech, and eyes that wildly stare 3 2(3 ANGLING -ANIMALS. Fierce as the tiger, madder than the seas, Desperate, and arm'd with more than human strength. Armstrong's An of Preserving Health. Next anger rush'd, his eyes on fire, In lightnings own'd his secret stings, In one rude clash he struck the lyre, And swept with hurried hand the strings. Collins's Ode to the Passions. Out upon the fool ! go speak thy comforts To spirits tame and abject as thyself: They make me mad. Baillie's Ethwald. His eye-brow dark, and eye of fire, Showed spirit proud, and prompt to ire ; Yet lines of thought upon his cheek Did deep design and counsel speak. Scott's Marmion. His brow was bent, — his eye was glazed — He raised his arm and fiercely raised: And sternly shook his hand on high, As doubting to return or fly. Byron's Giaour. I search'd, but vainly search'd, to find The workings of a wounded mind; Each feature of that sullen corse Betray'd his rage, but no remorse. Byron's Giaour. And her brow cleared, but not her troubled eye : The wind was down, but still the sea ran high. Byron's Don Juan. She ceased, and turn'd upon her pillow ; pale She lay, her dark eyes flashing through their tears, Like skies that rain and lighten; as a veil, Waved and o'ershading her wan cheek, appears Her streaming hair, the black curls strive, but fail, To hide the glossy shoulder, which uprears Its snow through all; her soft lips lie apart, And louder than her breathing beats her heart. Byron's Don Juan. Loud complaint, however angrily It shakes its phrase, is little to be feared, And less distrusted. Byron's Doge of Venice. Patience ! — Hence — that word was made For bruies of burthen, not for birds of prey ; Preach it to mortals of a dust like thine, — I am not of thine order Byron's Manfred. The wildest ills that darken life, Are rapture to the bosom's strife ; The tempest, in its blackest torn* Is beauty to the bosom's storm; The ocean, lash'd to fury loud, Its high wave mingling with the cloud, Is peaceful, sweet serenity, To anger's dark and stormy sea. J. W. Eastburne, ANGLING. 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 unmoved, he hopes the scaly breed, And eyes the dancing cork, and bending reed. Pope's Windsor Forest. I in these flowery meads would be ; These crystal streams should solace me ; To whose harmonious, bubbling noise I with my angle would rejoice. Isaac Walton. And angle on, and beg to have A quiet passage to a welcome grove. Isaac Walton Oh! lone and lovely haunts are thine, Soft, soft the river flows, Wearing the shadow of thy line, The gloom of alder boughs. Mrs. Hemans ANIMALS. Let cavillers deny That brutes have reason ; sure 'tis something more, 'Tis heaven directs, and stratagems inspires, Beyond the short extent of human thought. So?nerville's Chase The heart is hard in nature, and unfit For human fellowship, as being void Of sympathy, and therefore dead alike To love and friendship both, that is not pleased With sight of animals enjoying life, Nor feels their happiness augment his own. Cowper's Task. And because he loves me so, Better than his kind will do, Often man or woman, — Give I back more love again, Than dogs often take of men, Learning from my human. Miss Barrett You each gentle animal In confidence may bind, And make them follow at your call, If you are always kind Mrs. Hale, ANTIPATHY - ANTIQUARY - APPAREL. 27 ANTIPATHY. Some men there are, love not a gaping pig ; Some that are mad, if they behold a cat. Masterless passion sways it to the mood, Of what it likes or loathes. Shaks. Merchant of Venice. Sooner the olive shall provoke To am'rous clasps this sturdy oak, And doves in league with eagles be, Ere I will glance a smile on thee. Sooner yon duskish mulberry In her old white shall clothed be, And lizards with fierce asps combine, Ere I will twist my soul with thine. John Hall. May thorns be planted in the marriage bed, And love grow sour'd and blacken into hate ! Bulwer's Lady of Lyons. 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-lov'd Narcissus Did on his beauty : How shall I approach him ? Shakerly Marmyori's Antiquary. I must rev'rence and prefer the precedent Times before these, which consum'd their wits in Experiments ; and 'twas a virtuous Emulation amongst them, that nothing Which should profit posterity, should perish. Shakerly Marmyori's Antiquary. They are the Registers, the chronicles of the age They were made in, and speak the truth of history, Better than a hundred of your printed Communications. Shakerly Marmyori's Antiquary. A copper plate, with almanacs Engrav'd upon't ; with other nacks Of Booker's, Lilly's, Sarah Jimmer's, And blank schemes to discover nimmers ; A moon dial, with Napier's hones, And sev'ral constellation stones. Butler's Hudibras. What toil did honest Curio take, What strict inquiries did he make, To get one medal wanting yet, And perfect all his Roman set! 'Tis found: and, O his hapj* lot! 'Tis bought, lock'd up, and lies forgot. Prior's Alma He had a routh o' auld nick-nackets, Rusty aim caps, and jinglin jackets ; Would held the Loudons three in tackets A towmond gude; And parritch-pats, and auld saut-backets, Afore the flude Burnt. How his eyes languish ! how his thoughts adore That painted coat, which Joseph never wore ! 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. WolcoVs Peter Pindar. APPAREL. Costly thy habit as thy purse can huy, But not expressed in fancy ; rich, not gaudy ; For the apparel oft proclaims the man. Shaks. Hamlet. The fashion Wears out more apparel than the man. Shaks. Much ado about nothing. We will unto your father's. Ev'n in these honest, mean habiliments : Our purses shall be proud, our garments poor ; For 't is the mind that makes the body rich : And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds, So honour peereth in the meanest habit. 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 ? O no, good Kate ; neither art thou the worse For this poor furniture, and mean array. Shaks. Taming of a Shrew. Thy gown ? why, ay : — come, tailor, let us see *U mercy, God ! what masking stuff is here ? What's this ? a sleeve ? 'tis like a demi-cannon • What ! up and down, carv'd like an apple-tart ? Here 's snip and nip, and cut, and slish, and slasn. Like to a censer in a barber's shop : — Why what, a'devil's name, tailor, call'st thru this 1 Shaks. Taming of a Shrew My dukedom to a beggarly denier, 1 do mistake my person all this while* Upon my life, she finds although I cannot, 2? APPEARANCES. Myself to be a marvellous proper man. I '11 be at charges for a looking-glass ; And entertain a score or two of tailors, To study fashions to adorn my body, Since I am crept in favour with myself, I will maintain it with some little cost Shake. Richard III. Sure this gay fresh suit, as seems to me, Hangs like green ivy on a rotten tree. Daniel's Hymen's Triumph. I am the same, without all difference ; when You saw me last, I was as rich, as good ; Have no additions since of name, or blood ; Only because I wore a thread-bare suit, I was not worthy of a poor salute. A few good clothes put on with small ado, Purchase your knowledge and your kindred too. Heyicood's Royal King. Nor yet too brightly strive to blaze, By stealing all the rainbow rays ; Your gaudy, artificial fly Will only take the younger fry. Who has not seen, and seeing mourn'd, And mourning smiled, and smiling scorn'd, In wild ambitiou flaming down, Some comet from a country town? See, see her in her motley hues ; Funereal blacks and brimstone blues, And lurid green, and bonfire red, At once their varied radiance shed ; And skin deep gold, and would be pearls, And oh ! those heaps of corkscrew curls, O. W. Holmes. From little matters let us pass to less, And lightly touch the mysteries of dress ; The outward forms the inner man reveal. We guess the pulp before we eat the peel. One single precept might the whole condense — Be sure your tailor is a man of sense ; But add a little care, or decent pride, And always err upon the sober side. Wear seemly gloves ; not black, nor yet too light ; And least of all the pair that once was white. Have a good hat; the secret of your looks Lies with the beaver in Canadian brooks. Virtue may flourish in an old cravat, But man and nature scorn the shocking hat Be sliy of breastpins ; plain, well-ironed, white, With small pearl buttons, — two of them in sight, — Is always genuine, while your gems may pass, Thougn real diamonds, for ignoble glass. O. W. Holmes. APPEARANCES. Appearances deceive, And this one maxim is a standing rule,— Men are not what they seem. Havard's Scanderbeg 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's Iphigenia. Thy plain and open nature sees mankind But in appearances, not what they are. Frowde's Philotas. Seems, madam ! nay, it is ; I know not seems, T is not alone my inky cloak, good mother, Nor customary suits of solemn black, Nor windy suspiration of fore'd breath, No, nor the fruitful river in the eye, Nor the dejected 'haviour of the visage, Together with all forms, modes, shows of grief, That can denote me truly ; These, indeed, seem, For they are actions that a man might play: But I have that within, which passeth show ; These, but the trappings and the suits of woe. Shaks. Hamlet. Mislike me not for my complexion, — The shadow'd livery of the burnish'd sun, To whom I am a neighbour, and near bred. Shaks. Mercliant of Venice. You have slander'd nature in my form j Which, howsoever rude exteriorly, Is yet the cover of a fairer mind Than to be butcher of an innocent child. Shahs. King John. There is a fair behaviour in tfiee, captain ; And though that nature with a beauteous wall Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee I will believe, thou hast a mind that suits With this thy fair and outward character. Shaks. Twelfth Night. He has, I know not what Of greatness in his looks, and of high fate That almost awes me. Dry den's Mania ge a la Mode. That gloomy outside, like a rusty chest Contains the shining treasure of a soul Resolved and brave. Dryden's Don Sebastian, Appearances to save, his only care ; So tilings seem right no matter what they are. ChurchiWs Rosciad. APPLAUSE -ARCHITECTURE -ARBOUR -ARGUMENT. 29 They form'd a> very nymph-like looking crew, Which might have call'd Diana's chorus " Cousin," As far as outward show may correspond ; I won't be bail for anything beyond. Byron's Don Juan. 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. One slanting up his face did wink The salt-rheum to the eyelid's brink, As if to think — or — not to think! Some trod out stealthily and slow, As if the sun would fall in snow, If they walked to, instead of fro. Mis3 Barrett. 'Tis not the fairest form that holds The mildest, purest soul within ; 'T is not the richest plant that folds The sweetest breath of fragrance in. Within the oyster's shell uncouth The purest pearl may hide :— Trust me you'll find a heart of truth Within that rough outside. Mrs. Osgood. Alas ! I am but woman, fond and weak, Without even power my proud, pure love to speak ; But oh, by all I fail in, love not me For what I am, but what I wish to be. Mrs. Osgood. Well, one may trail her silken robe, And bind her locks with pearls, And one may wreathe the woodland rose Among her floating curls ; And one may tread the dewy grass, And one the marble floor, Nor half-hid bosom heave the less, Nor broider'd corset more. O. W. Holmes. APPLAUSE. At which the universal host up sent A shout that tore hell's concave, and beyond Frighted the reign of chaos and old night. MiltorCs Paradise Lost. The hollow abyss Heard far and wide, and all the host of hell With deaf 'ning shout return'd them loud acclaim. Milton's Paradise Lost. He said, and as the sound of waters deep, Hoarse murmur echoed to his words applause Through the infinite host Milton's Paradise Lost. No sooner had th' Almighty ceased, but all The multitude of angels, with a shout Loud as from numbers without number, sweet As from blest voices, uttering joy, heaven rung With jubilee, and loud hosannahs fill'd Th'. eternal regions. Milton's Paradise Lost City, country, all, Is in gay triumph tempest toss'd, I scarce could press along. The trumpet's voice Is lost in loud repeated shouts, that raise Your name to heaven. Thomson's Agamemnon. Then, bursting broad, the boundless shout to heaven, From many a thousand hearts ecstatic sprung. Thomson's Liberty- Then give a general shout, and send scared echo Even to the frighted ears of tyranny. Sir A. Hunt's Julian ARCHITECTURE. 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. Burns's Brigs of Ayr. ARBOUR. And in the thickest covert of that shade, There was a pleasaunt arbour, not by art, But of the trees' owne inclination made, Which knitting their rancke braunches part to part, With wanton yvie twine entrayl'd athwart, And eglantine and caprifole among, Fashion'd above within their inmost part, That neither Phcebus' beams could through them throng, Nor Aeolus' sharp blast could worke them any wrong. Spenser's Fairy Queen. The hawthorn bush, with seats beneath the shade, For talking age, and whisp'ring lovers made ! ♦ Goldsmith's Deserted Village ARGUMENT. Be calm in arguing : For fierceness makes Error a fault, and truth discourtesy. Why should I feel another man's mistakes More than his sicknesses or poverty ? In love I should ; but anger is not love, Nor wisdom neither ; therefore gently movij oU ARMS -ARMY. Calmness is great advantage : He that lets Another chafe, may warm him at his fire, Mark all his wand'rings, and enjoy his frets, As cunning fencers suffer heat to tire. Truth dwells not in the clouds: The bow that's there, Doth often aim at, never hit the sphere. Herbert. If truth be with thy friend, be with them both : Share in the conquest, and confess a troth. Herbert. But all 's not true that supposition saith, Nor have the mightiest arguments most faith. Drayton. For arguments, like children, should be like The subject that begets them. Thomas Decker's Satiromastix. 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. It is in vain (I see) to argue 'gainst the grain, Or, like the stars, incline men to What they 're averse themselves to do ; For when disputes are wearied out, 'Tis interest still resolves the doubt. Butler's Hudibras. A man convinced against his will Is of the same opinion still. Butler's Hudibras. For obstinacy's ne'er so stiff, As when 'tis in a wrong belief. Butler's Hudibras. Examples I could cite you more; But be contented with these four; For when one's proofs arc aptly chosen, Four are as valid as four dozen. Prior's Alma. In argument Similes are like songs m love : They much describe ; — they nothing prove. Prior's Alma. In a . guing too, the parson owned his skill, For even tho' vanquish'd, he could argue still. Goldsmith's Deserted Village. But eveilasting dictates crowd his tongue, Perversely grave, or positively wrong. Dr. Johnson's Vanity of Human Wishes. Like doctors thus, when much dispute has past, We find our tenets just the same at last Pope's Moral Essays, Who shall decide when doctors disagree, And soundest casuists doubt, like you or me. Pope's Moral Essaija. ARMS. I'll ride in golden armour like the sun. And in my helm a triple plume shall spring, Spangled with diamonds dancing in the air, To note me emperor of the threefold world. Mario's 1st part of Tamberlane the Great. Assurance now having armed all their hearts, With proof 'gainst fear, not danger ; they prepare To arm themselves completely at all parts, Offensive and defensive ; one might swear, They did such motions to their armour give, That iron breathed, and that steel did live. Aleyn's King Henry VII. In nature it is fear that makes us arm ; And fear by guilt is bred; The guiltless nothing dread, Defence not seeking, nor designing harm. Sir W. Davenant. Who is the happy warrior ? who is he That every man in arms should wish to be ? — It is the generous spirit who hath wrought Among the plans of real life. — 'T is he whose law is reason ; who depends Upon that law as on his best of friends. — Who if he rise to stations of command, Rises by open means. — — Who comprehends his trust, and to the same Keeps faithful with a singleness of aim. Wordsworth. ARMY. So great an host As with their weight shall make the mountain! quake, Even as when windy exhalations, Fighting for passage, tilt within the earth. Mark From camp to camp, through the foul womb of night, The hum of either army stilly sounds ; That the fix'd sentinels almost receive The secret whispers of each other's watch. Fire answers fire ; and through their paly flames. Each battle sees the other's umber'd face. ARMY. 31 Steed threatens steed, in high and boastful neighs, I Piercing the night's dull ear ; and from the tents, The armourers, accomplishing the knights, With busy hammers closing rivets up, Give dreadful note of preparation. SItaks. Henry V. We are but warriors for the working day : Our gayness, and our gilt, are all besmirch'd With rainy marching in the painful field. There's not a piece of feather in our host, (Good argument I hope we will not fly,) And time has worn us into slovenry : But by the mass, our hearts are in the trim. Shaks. Henry V. Why do you stay so long, my lords of France ? Yon island carrions, desperate of their bones, 111 favour' dly become the morning field : Their ragged curtains poorly are let loose, And our air shakes them passing scornfully. Shaks. Henry V. Big Mars seems bankrupt in their beggar'd host, And faintly through a rusty beaver peeps. The horsemen sit like fixed candlesticks, With torch-staves in their hand ; and their poor jades Lob down their heads, drooping the hides and hips ; The gum down-roping from their pale dead eyes ; And in their pale dull mouths the gimmal bit Lies foul with chaw'd grass, still and motionless ; And their executors, the knavish crows, Fly o'er them all impatient for their hour. Shaks. Henry V. Their armours, thatmarch'd hence so silver-bright, Hither return all gilt with Frenchmen's blood ; There stuck no plume in any English crest, That is removed by a staff of France ; Our colours do return in those same hands That did display them when we first march d forth; A braver choice of dauntless spirits, Than now the English bottoms have waft o'er, Did never float upon the swelling tide, To do offence and scath in Christendom. The interruption of their churlish drums Cuts off more circumstance : they are at hand. Shaks. King John. All the unsettled humours of the land, Rash, inconsiderate, fiery voluntaries, ' With ladies' faces, and fierce dragons' spleens, Have sold their fortunes at their native homes, Bearing their birthrights proudly on their backs, To make a hazard of new fortunes here. Sliaks. King John. And like a jolly troop of huntsmen, come Our lusty English, all with purpled hands, Dy'd in the dying slaughter of their foes. Shaks. King John. Remember whom you are to cope w [thai ; A sort of vagabonds, rascals, and run-aways. A scum of Bretagnes, and base lackey peasants, Whom their o'ercloy'd country vomits forth To desperate ventures, and assur'd destruction. Shaks. Richard III. Thus far into the bowels of the land Have we march'd on without impediment. Shaks. Richard III. His marches are expedient to this town, His forces strong, his soldiers confident. Sliaks. King John, Within a ken our army lies ; Upon mine honour, all too confident To give admittance to a thought of fear. Our battle is more full of names than yours, Our men more perfect in the use of arms, Our armour all as strong, our cause the best ; Then reason wills, our hearts should be as good Shaks. Henry I\ All in a moment through the gloom were seen Ten thousand banners rise into the air With orient colours waving : With them rose A forest huge of spears, and thronging helms Appear'd, and serried shields in thick array Of depth immeasurable. Milton's Paradise Lost Ten thousand ensigns high advanced, Standards and gonfalons 'twixt van and rear Stream in the air, and for distinction serve Of hierarchies, of orders aud degrees ; Or in their glittering tissues bear emblazed Holy memorials, acts of zeal and love Recorded eminent. Milton's Paradise Lost, And though redue'd to that extreme, They have been fore'd to sing Te Deum; Yet with religious blasphemy, By flattering heaven with a lie, And for their beating giving thanks, Th' have rais'd recruits, and fill'd their ranks Butler's Hudibrait Yet hark ! what discords now, of every kind, Shouts, laughs, and screams aie revelling in tho wind! The neigh of cavalry ; the tinkling throngs Of laden camels, and their drivers' songs • Ringing of arms, and flapping in the breezo Of streamers from ten thousand canopies ; 82 ART - ARTIFICE - ASTONISHMENT. War-music, bursting out from time to time, With gong and tymbalon's tremendous chime ; Or, in the pause, when harsher sounds are mute, The mellow breathings of some horn or flute That far off, broken by the eagle note Of th' Abyssinian trumpet, swell and float ! Moore's Lalla RooJch. The army, like a lion from his den, March'd forth with nerve and sinews bent to slay, A human hydra issuing from its fen To breathe destruction on its winding way, Whose heads were heroes, which, cut off in vain, Immediately in others grew again. Byron's Don Juan. They left the ploughshare in the mould, The flocks and herds without a fold ; The sickle in the unshorn grain, The corn half garner'd on the plain, And muster'd in their simple dress, For wrongs to seek a stern redress ; To right those wrongs, come weal, come woe, To perish — or o'ercome the foe. Isaac McLellan. ART In framing artists, art hath thus decreed, To make some good, but others to exceed. Sliaks. Pericles. What thing a right line is, the learned know ; But how avails that him, who in the right, Of lite and manners doth desire to grow ? What are all these human arts and lights But seas of error ? in whose depths who sound, Of truth find only shadows, and no ground. Then if our arts want power to make us better, What fool will think they can us wiser make. Life is the wisdom, art is but the letter, Or shell, which men oft for the kernel take ; In moods and figures moulding up deceit, To make each science rather hard than great. Lord Brooke. Such is the strength of art, rough tilings to shape, And of rude commons rich enclosures make. James Howell. For though I must confess an artist can ixmt-ive things better than another man, Yet when the task is done, he finds his pains Sought but to fill his belly with his brains. Is this the guerdon due to liberal arts, T' admire the head and then to starve the parts ? Timely prevention though discreetly used Before the fruits of knowledge were abused. When learning has incurr'd a fearful damp Tc save our oil, 'tis good to quench the lamp. Lady Alimony. Tir'd at first sight, with what the muse impar In fearless youth we tempt the heights of arts, While from the bounded level of our mind Short views we take, nor see the length behind ; But, more advanced, behold with strange surpris New distant scenes of endless science rise. Pope, Art became the shadow Of the Jear star-light of thy haunting eyes ! They call'd me vain, some mad — I heeded not, But still toil'd on, hoped on, for it was surest, If not to win, to feel more worthy thee. Bulwefs Lady of Lyons, Immortal art ! where'er the rounded sky Bends o'er the cradle where thy children lie, Their home is earth, their herald every tongue. O. W. Holme*. Art is wondrous long ; Yet to the wise her paths are ever fair, And patience smiles, tho' genius may despair. O. W. Holmes. ARTIFICE. 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; imperfect mischief! Thou, like the adder, venomous and deaf, Hast stung the traveller ; and, after, hear'st Not his pursuing voice ; e'en when thou think'st To hide, the rustling leaves and bended grass Confess and point the path which thou hast crept fate of fools ! officious in contriving ; In executing, puzzled, lame, and lost. Congreve, What 's the bent brow, or neck in ft.ought reclin'd 1 The body's wisdom to conceal the mind. A man of sense can artifice disdain, As men of wealth may venture to go plain; And be this truth eternal ne'er forgot, Solemnity's a cover for a sot. 1 find the fool when I behold tbe screen; For 'tis th* wise man's interest to be seen. Young's Love of Fame. ASTONISHMENT. Adam, soon as he heard The fatal trespass done by Eve, amaz'd AstonishM stood and blank, while horror chill Ran through his veins and all his joints relaxM ; From his slack hand the garland wrcath'd for EvOj ATHEIST - AUTHORS. Down dropp'd, and all the faded roses shed : Speechless he stood and pale. Milton's Paradise Lost. With wild surprise, As if to marble struck devoid of sense, A stupid moment motionless she stood. Thomson's Seasons. But who can paint the lover, as he stood, Pierced by severe amazement, hating life, Speechless and fix'd in all the death of woe ! So, faint resemblance ! on the marble tomb, The well dissembled mourner stands, For ever silent and for ever sad. Thomson's Seasons. Hear it not, ye stars ! And thou, pale moon ! turn paler at the sound. Young's Night Thoughts. ATHEIST. When prejudice and strong aversions work, All whose opinions we dislike are atheists. Now 'tis a term of art, a bug-bear word, The villain's engine, and the vulgar's terror. The man who thinks and judges for himself, Unsway'd by aged follies, reverend errors, Grown holy by traditionary dulness Of school authority, he is an atheist The man who, hating idle noise, preserves A pure religion seated in his soul, He is a silent dumb dissembling atheist ! Sewell's Sir Walter Raleigh. Virtue in distress, and vice in triumph, Make atheists of mankind. Dryden's Cleomenes. AUTHORS. How many great ones may remember'd be, Which in their days most famously did flourish, Of whom no word we hear, nor sign 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. Let authors write for glory or reward, Truth is well paid, when she is sung and heard. R. Corbet, Bisliop of Norwich. 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. Prologue to Sir R. Howard's Smprisal. C Much thou hast said, which I know when And where thou stol'st from other men ; Whereby 'tis plain thy light and gifts, Are all but plagiary shifts. Butler's Kudibras. 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. Young's Epistle to Mr. Popt 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 fbols are only laugh'd at — - wits are hated. Blockheads with reason men of sense abhor ; But fool 'gainst fool is barb'rous civil war. Why on all authors then should critics fall ? Since some have writ, and shown no wit at all. Pope. An author ! 'T is a venerable name ! How few deserve it, and what numbers claim ! Unblest with sense above their peers refhi'd, Who shall stand up, dictators to mankind ? Nay, who dare shine, if not in virtue's cause ? That sole proprietor of just applause. Young. Authors alone, with more than savage rage, Unnat'ral war with brother authors wage. Pope. None but an author knows an author's cares, Or fancy's fondness for the child she bears. Cowper's Progress of Error. By custom safe, the poet's numbers flow, Free as the light and air some years ago. No statesman e'er will find it worth its pains, To tax our labours, and excise our brains. Burthens like these will earthly blessings bear, No tribute 's laid on castles in the air. ChurcUU Some write a narrative of wars and feats, Of heroes little known, and call the rant An history. Describe the man, of whom His own coevals took but little note, And paint his person, character and views, As they had known him from his mother's womb. Cowper's Task. And novels (witness every month's review) Belie their name, and offer nothing new. Cowper's Retirement- One hates an author that 's all author, fellows In foolscap uniforms turn'd up with ink. So very anxious, clever, fine, and jealous, One do n't know what to sav to them, or think. 34 AUTHORITY -AUTUMN. 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 snuifings of the midnight taper. Byron's Beppo. 'T is pleasant sure to see one's name in print ; A book 's a book, although there 's nothing in 't. Byron. But every fool describes in these bright days, His wondrous journey to some foreign court, And spawns his quarto, and demands your praise ; Death to his publisher, to him 't is sport. Byron's Don Juan. He had written praises of a regicide ; He had written praises of all kings whatever ; He had written for republics far and wide, And then against them bitterer than ever. Byron's Vision of Judgment. Our doctors 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. Moore. Some steal a thought, And clip it round the edge, and challenge him Whose ' twas to swear to it. To serve things thus Is as foul witches to cut up old moons Into new stars. Some never rise above A pretty fault, like faulty dahlias ; And of whose best things it is kindly said, The thought is fair ; but to be perfect, wants A little heightening, like a pretty face With a low forehead. Bailey's Festus. AUTHORITY. A man in authority is but as A candle in the wind, sooner wasted Or blown out than under a bushel. Beaumont and Fletcher's Four Plays in One. Not from grey hairs authority doth flow, Nor from bald heads, nor from a wrinkled brow ; But our past life, when virtuously spent, Must to our age those happy fruits present. Denham. Autnority kept up, old age secures, Whose dignity as long as life endures. Denham. Authority bears off a credent bulk, That no particular scandal once can touch, But it confounds the breather. Sliaks. Mea.for Mea. Authority, though it err like others, Hath yet a kind of medicine in itself, That skins the voice o' the top. Shahs. Mea.for Mea. Man, proud man, Drest in a little brief authority, Most ignorant of what he's most assur'd, His glassy essence — like an angry ape, Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven As make the angels weep ! Shaks. Mea.for Mea My soul aches To know, when two authorities are up, Neither supreme, how soon confusion May enter 'twixt the gap of both, and take The one by the other. Shaks. Coriolari Authority is a disease and cure, Which men can neither want nor will endure. Butler's Hudibraa. Authority intoxicates, And makes mere sots of magistrates; The fumes of it invade the brain, And make men giddy, proud, and vain; By this the fool commands the wise, The noble with the base complies, The sot assumes the rule of wit, And cowards make the base submit. Butlefs Hudibras, The monarch mind, the mystery of commanding, The birth-hour gift, the art Napoleon, Of winning, fettering, moulding, wielding, binding The hearts of millions till they seem as one, Thou hast it. HaUech AUTUMN Then came the autumne, all in yellow clad, As though he joyed in his plenteous store, Laden with fruits that made him laugh, full glad That he had banish'd hunger, which to-fore Had by the belly oft him pinched sore ; Upon his head a wreath that was cnrold With ears of corne of every sort, he bore, And in his hand a sickle he did holdc, To reape the ripened fruit the which the earth had yold. Spenser's Fairy Queen, Whate'er the wanton spring, When she doth diaper the ground with beauties, Toils for ; comes home to autumn ; summer sweat* Either in pasturing her furlongs, reaping The crop of bread, rip'ning the fruits for food, Autumn's garners house them, autumn's jollitiea Feed on them : I alone in every land AVARICE. 35 Traffic my useful merchandise ; gold and jewels, Lordly possessions are for my commodities Mortgag'd and sold ; I sit chief moderator Between the cheek-parch'd summer, and th' ex- tremes Of winter's tedious frost ; nay, in myself I do contain another teeming spring : Surety of health, prosperity of life Belongs to autumn. Ford and Decker's Sun's Darling. The year growing ancient, Not yet on summer's death, nor on the birth Of trembling wirier. Shahs. Winter's Tale. Thrice happy time, Best portion of the various year, in which "Nature rejoiceth, smiling on her works, Lovely, to full perfection wrought Philips' s Cider. But see the fading many-colour'd woods, Shade deep'ning over shade, the country round Imbrown; crowded umbrage, dusk, and dun, Of every hue, from wan declining green To sooty dark. <'s The pale descending year, yet pleasing still, A gentler mood inspires ; for now the leaf Incessant rustles from the mournful grove ; Oft startling such as, studious, walk below, And slowly circles thro' the waving air. Thomson's Seasons. Fled is the blasted verdure of the fields ; And, shrunk into their beds, the flowery race Their sunny robes resign. Even what remain'd Of stronger fruits falls from the naked tree ; And woods, fields, gardens, orchards, all around The desolated prospect thrills the soul. Thomson's Seasons. Again the year's decline, midst storms and floods i The thundering chase, the yellow fading woods, Invite my song ; that fain would boldly tell Of upland coverts, and the echoing dell, By turns resounding loud at eve and morn The swineherd's hallow or the shepherd's horn. Bloomfield's Farmer Boy. Oh, Autumn ! why so soon Depart the hues that make thy forest glad ; Thy gentle wind and thy fair sunny noon, And leave thee wild and sad ! Ah ! 'twere a lot too blest For ever in thy colour'd shades to stray ; Amid the kisses of the soft southwest To rove and dream for aye. Bryant's Poems. Those few pale Autumn flowers! How beautiful they are ! Than all that went before, Than all the Summer store, How lovelier far ! Mrs. Southcy. That loveliness ever in motion, which plays, Like the light upon Autumn's soft, shadowy days, Now here and now there, giving warmth as it flics From the lips to the cheeks, from the cheek to the eyes ! Moore. Wild is the music of autumnal winds Amongst the faded woods. Wordsworth AVARICE. And greedy avarice by him did ride Upon a camell loaden all with gold ; Two iron coffers hang on either side, With precious metall full as they might hold And in his lap an heap of coin he told ; For of his wicked pelf his god he made, And unto hell himself for money sold ; Accursed usury was all his trade, And right and wrong ylike in equall balance waide, His life was nigh unto death's dore yplaste ; And thred-bare cote and cobbled shoes he ware, He scarce good morsell all his life did taste, But feoth from backe and belly still did spare, To fill his bags, and richesse to compare : Yet child ne kinsman living had he none, To leave them to ; but thorough daily care To get, and nightly feare to lose his owne. He led a wretched life unto himselfe unknowne, Most wretched wight whom nothing might suffice, Whose greedy lust did lack in greatest store, Whose need had end, but no end covetise. Whose wealth was want, whose plenty made him poor, Who had enough, yet wished evermore. Spenser's Fairy Queen. And in his lap a masse of coyne he told And turned upside downe, to feede his eye And covetous desire with his huge treasury. Spenser's Fairy Queen. See! The difference 'twixt the covetous and the prodigal . The covetous man never has money, And the prodigal will have none shortly ! Johnson's Staple of Newt. When all sins are old in us, And go upon crutches, covetousnesa Does but then lie in her cradle. Decker AVARICE. Gross nurtur'd slaves, who force their wretched souls To crouch to profit ; nay, for trash and wealth, Doat on some crooked or misshapen form, Hugging wise nature's lame deformity, Begetting creatures ugly as themselves. John Ford's Love Sacrifice. When I was blind, my son, I did miscall My sordid vice of avarice, true thrift. But now forget that lesson, I prithee do, That cos'ning vice, although it seems to keep Our wealth, debars us from possessing it, And makes us more than poor. May's Old Couple. Of age's avarice I cannot see What colour, ground, or reason there should 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. Dut age scarce sows, till death stands by to reap, And to a stranger's hand, transfers the heap; Afraid % be so once, she's always poor, Aid to avoid a mischief, makes it sure, Such madness, as for fear of death to die, Is to be poor for fear of poverty. Denluim. What less than fool is man to prog and plot, And lavish out the cream of all his care, To gain poor seeming goods which, being got, Make firm possession but a thoroughfare ; Or, if they stay, they furrow thoughts the deeper ; And being kept with care, they lose their careful keeper. Quarks. In all the world there is no vice Lc?s prone t' excess than avarice ; It neither cares for food nor clothing : Nature's content with little, that with nothing. Butler. L'Avare not using half his store, Still grumbles that he has no more ; Strikes not the present tun, for fear The vintage should be bad next year, And eats to-day with inward sorrow, And dread of lancy'd want to-morrow. Prior's Alma. Out (lie bane miser starves amidst his store, Ihoods on his gold, and griping still at more, "*its sadly pining, and believes he's poor. Drydcn's Wife of Bath. May his soul be plung'd In ever burning floods of liquid gold, And be his avarice the fiend that damns him. Murphy'' a Alzuma. To cram the rich was prodigal expense, And who would take the poor from Providence ? Like some lone chartreux stands the good old hall, Silence without and fasts within the wall ; No rafter'd roofs with dance and tabor sound, No noon-tide bell invites the country round : Tenants with sighs the smokeless towers survey, And turn th' unwilling steeds another way ; Benighted wanderers, the forest e'er, Curs'd the sav'd candle, and unopening door ; While the gaunt mastiff growling at the gate, Affrights the beggar whom he longs to eat Pope's Moral Essays 'Tis strange the miser should his cares employ To gain those riches he can ne'er enjoy ; Is it less strange the prodigal should waste His wealth to purchase what he ne'er can taste ? Pope's Moral Essays. Riches, like insects, when conceal'd they lie, Wait but for wings, and in their season fly ; Who sees pale Mammon pine amidst his store Sees but a backward steward for the poor ; This year a reservoir, to keep and spare ; The next a fountain, spouting through his heir, In lavish streams to quench a country's thirst, And men and dogs shall drink him till they burst. Pope's Moral Essays. Wealth in the gross is death, but life diffus'd ; As poison heals, in just proportions us'd ; In heaps, like ambergris, a sink it lies, And well dispers'd, is incense to the skies. Pope's Moral Essays " I give and I devise," (Old Euclio said, And sigh'd,) " my lands and tenements to Ned." Your money, sir ? — "My money, sir, what, all ? Why, if I must" (then wept), " I give it Paul." The manor, sir ? — " The manor ! hold," he cried, "Not that — I cannot part with that," and died. Pope's Moral Essays. The lust of gold succeeds the lust of conquest : The lust of gold, unfeeling and remorseless I The last corruption of degenerate man. Dr. Johnson's Irene. Some, o'er-enamour'd of their bags, run mad, Groan under gold, yet weep for want of bread. Young's Night Thouglits. O cursed love 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. AWKWARDNESS - BANISHMENT. C7 Who, lord of millions, trembles for his store, And fears to give a farming 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. The credulous hope of mutual minds is o'er, The copious use of claret is forbid too, So for a good old-gentlemanly vice, I think I must take up with avarice. Byron's Don Juan. 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; Ye who but see the saving man at table, And scorn his temperate board, as none at all, ' And wonder how the wealthy can be sparing, Know not what visions spring from each cheese- paring. Byron's Don Juan. Why call the miser miserable ? As I said before, the frugal life is his, Which in a saint or cynic ever was The theme of praise : a hermit would not miss Canonization for the self-same cause, And wherefore blame gaunt wealth's austerities ? Because, you '11 say, naught calls for such a trial ; — Then there 's more merit in his self-denial. Byron's Don Juan. But whether all, or each, or none of these, May be the hoarder's principle of action, The fool will call such mania a disease : — What is his own ? Go look at each transaction, Wars, revels, loves — do these bring men more ease Than the mere plodding through each vulgar fraction ; Or do they benefit mankind ? Lean miser ! Let spendthrifts' heirs inquire of yours, who's wiser ? Byron's Don Juan. Why Marmnon sits before a million hearths Where God is 'bolted out from every house. Bailley's Festus. The churl who holds it heresy to think, Who loves no music but the dollar's clink, ■Who laughs to scorn the wisdom of the schools, And deems the first of poets first of fools, | Who never found what good from science grew, Save the grand truth, that one and one make two, — 'Tis he, across whose brain scarce dares to creep Aught but thrift's parent pair — to get, to keep ! Charles Spraguc. AWKWARDNESS. What's a fine person, or a beauteous face, Unless deportment gives them decent grace ? Bless'd with all other requisites to please, Some want the striking elegance of ease, The curious eye their awkward movement tires, They seem like puppets led about by wires. Churchill's Rosciad. Awkward, embarrass'd, stiff, without the skill Of moving gracefully, or standing still, One leg, as if suspicious of his brother, Desirous seems to run away from t' other. Churchill's Rosciad. Not all the pumice of the polish'd town Can smooth the roughness of the barnyard clown ; Rich, honour'd, titled, he betrays his race By this one mark — he's awkward in his face. O. W. Holmes BANISHMENT. We banish you our territories : You, cousin Hereford, on pain of death, Till twice five summers have enrich'd our fields, Shall not regreet cur fair dominions, But tread the stranger paths of banishment. Shaka. Richard II All places that the eye of heaven visits, Are to a wise man ports and happy havens. Teach thy necessity to reason thus : There is an virtue like necessity. Shaks. Richard II. Go say, I sent thee forth to purchase honour ; And not the king exiled thee. Or suppose Devouring pestilence hangs in our air, And thou art flying to a fresher clime. Look what thy soul holds dear, imagine it To lie that way thou goest, not whence tho.t comest S/iaks. Richard II Flies may do this, when I from this must fly; They, are free men, but I am banished. Shaks. Romeo and Julu t. I've stoopt my neck under your injuries, And sigh'd my English breath in foreign clouas. Eating the bitter bread of banishment ; While you have fed upon my signories ; 38 BARGAIN -BATTLE. Dispark'd my parks, and fell'd my forest woods ; From mine own windows torn my household-coat, liaz'd out my impress ; leaving me no sign, Save men's opinions, and my living blood, To show the world I am a gentleman. Shaks. Richard II. Banished ? O friar, the damned use that word in hell ; Howlings attend it : how hast thou the heart, Being a divine, a ghostly confessor, A sin absolver, and my friend profest, To mingle me with that word — banishment? Shaks. Romeo and Juliet. Banish me? Banish your dotage : banish usury, That makes the senate ugly. Shaks. Timon. BARGAIN. I'll give thrice so much land, To any well deserving friend ; But in the way of bargain, mark me, I '11 cavil on the ninth part of a hair. Shaks. Henry IV, The age of bargaining, said Burke, Has come : to-day the turban'd Turk Is England's friend and fast ally. Halleck's Poems. Lord Stafford mines for coal and salt, The Duke of Norfolk deals in malt, The Douglas in red herrings ; And noble name and cultur'd land, Palace, and park, and vassal band, Are powerless to the notes of hand Of Rothschild or the Barings. Halleck's Alnwich Castle. BATTLE. Therewith they gan, both furious and fell, To thunder blowcs, and fiercely to assaile Each other, bent his enemy to quell, That with their force they perst both plate and maile, And made wide furrows in their fleshes fraile, That it would pity any living eie. L:irge floods of blood adowne their sides did raile, Hut floods of blood could not them satisfie : Doth hongred after death ; both chose to win or die. Spenser's Fairy Queen. Then to the rest his wrathful hand he bends, I )f whom he makes such havocke and such hew, That swarms of damned soules to hell he sends ; The rest, that scape his sword and death eschew Fly like a flocke of doves before a falcon's view. Spenser's Fairy Queen. All sodainly enflam'd with furious fit, Like a fell lionesse, at him she flew, And on his head-piece him so fiercely smit, That to the ground him quite she overthrew, Dismay'd so with the stroke that he no colours knew. Spenser's Fairy Queen, The eager armies meet to try their cause, Our English lords in four battalias Bring on their forces, but so furious grows In little time the fight, so near the blows, That soon no order we perceive at all, For, like one body, closely move they all. May's Edward III. In single opposition, hand to hand, He did confound the best part of an hour In changing hardiment with great Glendower : Three times they breath'd, and three times did they drink, Upon agreement, of swift ^Severn's flood. Shaks. Henry IV. Much work for tears in many an English mother, Whose sons lie scatter'd on the bleeding ground : Many a widow's husband grovelling lies, Coldly embracing the discolour'd earth : And victory, with little loss, doth play Upon the dancing banners of the French. Shaks. King John If we are mark'd to die, we are enough To do our country loss ; and if to live, The fewer men the greater share of honour. Shaks. Henry V. A thousand hearts are great within my bosom ; Advance our standards, set upon our foes ; Our ancient word of courage, fair saint George, Inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons ! Upon them I Victory sits on our helms. Shaks. Richard III. The cannons have their bowels full of wrath ; And ready mounted are they to spit forth Their iron indignation 'gainst your walls. Shaks. King John. My sons — God knows what hath bechanced them : But this I know — they have demean'd themselves Like men born to renown, by life, or death. Three times did Richard make a lane to me ; And thrice cried — Courage, father, jigld it out! And full as oft came Edward on my side, With purple faulchion, painted to the hilt, In blood of those that had encounter'd him. Shaks. Henry VI. BATTLE. 30 Methought, he bore him in the thickest troop, As doth a lion in a herd of neat : Or as a bear, encompass'd round with dogs ; Who having pinch'd a few, and made them cry, The rest stand all aloof, and bark at him. Shaks. Henry VI. And now their mightiest quell'd, the battle swerv'd, With many an inroad gor'd ; deformed rout Enter'd and foul disorder ; all the ground With shiver'd armour strown, and on a heap Chariot and charioteer lay overturn'd, And fiery foaming steeds. Milton's Paradise Lost. 'Twixt host and host but narrow space was left, A dreadful interval, and front to front Presented stood in terrible array Of hideous length ; before the cloudy van On the rough edge of battle ere it join'd, Satan, with vast and haughty strides advanc'd, Came tow'ring, arm'd in adamant and gold. Milton's Paradise Lost. The shout Of battle now began, and rushing sound Of onset ended soon each milder thought. Milton's Paradise Lost. Now night her course began, and over heaven Inducing darkness, grateful truce, impos'd Her silence on the odious din of war : Under her cloudy covert hath retir'd, Victor and vanquish' d. Milton's Paradise Lost. Each at the head Levell'd his deadly aim ; their fatal hands No second stroke intended. Milton's Paradise Lost. When one, that bare a link, O' th' sudden clapp'd his flaming cudgel, Like linstock, to the horse's touch-hole ; And straight another with his flambeau, Gave Ralpho o'er the eyes a damn'd blow. Butler's Hudibras. 'Tis not the least disparagement To be defeated by th' event, Nor to be beaten by main force, That does not make a man the worse; But to turn tail, and run away, And without blows give up the day, Or to surrender ere th' assault, That's no man's fortune, but his fault. Butler's Hudibras. Full oft the rivals met, and neither spar'd His utmost force, and each forgot to ward. The head of this was to the saddle bent, The other backward to the crupper sent. Dryden's Palamon and Arcite. Hark — the death-denouncing trumpet sounds The fatal charge, and shouts proclaim the onset- Destruction rushes dreadful to the field, And bathes itself in blood : havoc let loose Now undistinguish'd, rages all around ; While ruin, seated on her dreary throne, Sees the plain strewed with subjects truly hers, Breathless and cold. Havard's Scanderbeg. Even like an arrow on the wind he rode His winged courser, and with noble daring Swept with his chivalrous escort past our front, Even at the stormy edge of chafing battle. Sir A. Hunt's Julian, Here might you see Barons and peasants on th' embattled field, Slain or half dead, in one huge ghastly heap, Promiscuously amass'd. With dismal groans, And ejaculation, in the pangs of death, Some call for aid, neglected ; some o'erturn'd In the fierce shock, lie gasping, and expire, Trampled by fiery coursers : Horror thus, And wild uproar, and desolation, reign'd Unrespited. Philips's Cider. When Greeks join'd Greeks, then was the tug of war; The labour'd battle sweat, and conquest bled. Lee's Alexander. Behold in awful march and dread array, The long extended squadrons shape their way ! Death, in approaching, terrible, imparts An anxious horror to the bravest hearts ; Yet do their beating breasts demand the strife, And thirst of glory quells the love of life. Addison's Campaign. A thousand glorious actions that might claim Triumphant laurels, and immortal fame, Confus'd in clouds of glorious actions lie, And troops of heroes undistinguish'd die. Addison's Campaign, It was a goodly sight To see the embattled pomp, as with the step Of stateliness the barbed steeds came on, To see the pennons rolling their long waves Before the gale, and banners, broad and bright. Tossing their blazonry. South ej Then more fierce The conflict grew; the din of arms — the yell Of savage rage — the shriek of agony — The groan of death, commingled in one sound Of undistinguish'd horrors ; while the sun, 40 BATTLE. Retiring slow beneath the plain's far verge, Shed o'er the quiet hills his fading light. Southey's Madoc Yet more ! yet more ! how fair arrayed They file from out the hawthorn shade, And sweep so gallant by ! With all their banners bravely spread, And all their armour flashing high, Saint George might waken from the dead, To see fair England's standard fly. Scott's Marmion- The war, that for a space did fail, Now trebly thundering swelled the gale, And — Stanley! was the cry; — A light on Marmion's visage spread, And fired his glazing eye : With dying hand, above his head, He shook the fragment of his blade, And shouted " Victory !" — "Charge, Chester, charge! — On, Stanley, on!" Were the last words of Marmion. ScoWs Marmion. His hand still strained the broken brand ; His arms were smeared with blood and sand. Scotfs Marmion. All in the castle were at rest; When sudden on the windows shone A lightning flash, just seen and gone ! A shot is heard — again the flame Flashed thick and fast — a volley came! Then echoed wildly, from within, Of shcut and scream the mingled din, And weapon clash, and maddening cry, Of those who kill and those who die ! As filled the hall with sulphurous smoke, More red, more dark, the death-flash broke, And forms were on the lattice cast, That struck, or struggled, as they past. Scotfs Rokehy. And O! amid that waste of life, What various motives fired the strife! The aspiring noble bled for fame, The patriot for his country's claim, This knight his youthful strength to prove, And that to win his lady's love. Scotfs Lord of the Isles. impetuous, active, fierce, and young, Upon the advancing foes he sprung. Woe to the wretch at whom is bent His brandish'd faulchion's sheer descent. Scotfs Rokehy. His back against a rock he bore, And firmly placed his foot before : — " Come one, come all ! this rock shall fly From its firm base as soon as I." Scotfs Lady of the Lake. Each looked to sun, and stream, and plain, As what they ne'er might see again ; Then, foot, and point, and eye opposed, In dubious strife they darkly closed. Scotfs Lady of the Lake. The combat deepens. On, ye brave, Who rush to glory, or the grave ! Wave, Munich ! all thy banners wave ! And charge with all thy chivalry! Few, few, shall part where many meet! The snow shall be their winding-sheet, And every turf beneath their feet Shall be a soldier's sepulchre. Campbell's Hohenlindau Our bugles sang truce — for the night-cloud had lower'd, And the centinel stars set their watch in the sky ; And thousands had sunk on the ground over- power'd, The weary to sleep and the wounded to die. Campbell's Soldier's Dream. Twice hath the sun upon their conflict set, And risen again, and found them grappling yet; While steams of carnage, in his noon-tide blaze, Smoke up to heav'n. Moore's Lalla Rookh. Did ye not hear it ? — No : 't was but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street ; 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. — But hark! — that heavy sound breaks in once more, As if the clouds its echo would repeat; And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before ! Arm! arm! it is — it is — the cannon's opening roar ! Byron's Childe Harold. By heaven ! it is a splendid sight to see (For one who hath no friend, no brother there) Their rival scarfs of mix'd embroidery, Their various arms that glitter in the air ! What gallant war-hounds rouse them from their lair, And gnash their fangs, loud yelling for the prey ! All join the chase, but few the triumph share ; The grave shall bear the chiefest prize away, And havoc scarce for joy can number their array. Byron's Childe Harold. Hark to the trump, and the drum, And the mournful sound of the barbarous horn, And the flap of the banners, that flit as they're borne, And the neigh of the steed, and the multitude's hum, And the clash, and the shout " they come, they come !" Byron's Siege of Corinth. BATTLE. 41 Hand to hand and foot to foot : Nothing there, save death, was mute ; Stroke and thrust, and flash and cry For quarter or for victory Mingle there with the volleying- thunder. Byron's Siege of Corinth. One effort — one — to break the circling- host!" They form — unite — charge — waver — all is lost ! Within a narrow ring compressed, beset, Hopeless, not heartless, strive and struggle yet, — Ah ! now they fight in firmest file no more, Hemmed in — cut off — cleft down — and tram- pled o'er, 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. No dread of death — if with us die our foes — Save that it seems even duller than repose : Come when it will — we snatch the life of life — When lost — what recks it — by disease or strife. Byron's Corsair. And one enormous shout of "Allah !" rose In the same moment, loud as even the roar Of war's most mortal engines, to their foes Hurling defiance : city, stream, and shore Resounded "Allah !" — and the clouds which close With thick'ning canopy the conflict o'er, Vibrate to the eternal name. Hark I through All sounds it pierceth, "Allah ! Allah ! Hu !" Byron's Don Juan. Here pause we for the present — as even then That awful pause, dividing life from death, Struck for an instant on the hearts of men, Thousands of whom were drawing their last breath ! A moment, and all will be life again ! The march!- -the charge ! — the shouts of either faith! Hurra ! and Allah ! and — one moment more — The death-cry drowning in the battle's roar. Byron's Don Juan. With cheek unchanging from its sallow gloom, ! However near his own or other's tomb ; With hand whose almost careless coolness spoke, Its grasp well-used to deal the sabre stroke ; With eye, though calm, determined not to spare, Did Lara too his willing weapon bare. Byron's Lara. Though far and near the bullets hiss, I've scap'd a bloodier hour than this. Byron's Giaour. The fight was o'er, the flashing through the gloom. Which robes the cannon as he wings a tomb, Had ceased ; and sulphury vapours upward driven Had left the earth, and but polluted heaven. Byron's Island — Ay, now the soul of battle is abroad, It burns upon the air ! — The joyous winds Are tossing warrior plumes, the proud white foam Of battle's roaring billows ! Mrs. Hemans -If to plunge In the mid-waves of combat, as they bear Chargers and spearmen onwards ; and to make A reckless bosom's front the buoyant mark, On that wild current, for ten thousand sorrows ; If thus to dare were valour's noblest aim, Lightly might fame be won ! Mrs. Hemans. He battles heart and arm, his own blue sky Above him, and his own green land around. Halleck's Poems. In the world's broad field of battle, In the bivouac of life, Be not like dumb driven cattle ! Be a hero in the strife ! Longfellow 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. Our fathers live, they guard in glory still The grass-grown bastions of the fortress'd hill Still ring the echoes of the trampled gorge To God and Freedom! England and St. George! The royal cipher on the captured gun blocks the sharp night-dews and the blistering sun ! O. W. Holmes. Point to the summits where the brave had bled, Where every village claims its glorious dead ; Say, where their bosoms met the bayonet's shocji, Their only corslet was the rustic frock ; Say, when they mustered to the gathering horn, The titled chieftain curled his lip in scorn ; Yet, when their leader bade his lines advance, No musket wavered in the lion's glance ; Say, when they fainted in their forced retreat, They tracked the snow-drifts with their bleeding feet; Yet still their banners, tossing in the blast, Bore Ever Ready, faithful to the last, Through storm and battle, till they waved again On Yorktown's hills and Saratoga's plain. 0. W. Holme* 42 BEARD -BEAUTY. BEARD. His beard is directly brick colour, And perfectly fashion'd like the husk Of a chesnut; he kisses with the driest lip! Marston's Wliat you will. It has no bush below ; Marry «. little wool, as much as an unripe Peach doth wear : Just enough to speak him drawing towards a man. Suckling's Goblins. His tawny beard was th' equal grace Both of his wisdom and his face ; In cut and dye so like a tile, A sudden view it would beguile; The upper part thereof was whey ; The nether, orange mix'd with grey. Butler's Hudibras. BEAUTY. Nought under heaven so strongly doth allure The sense of man, and all his mind possess, As beauty's lovely bait, that doth procure Great warriors oft their rigour to repress ; And mighty hands forget their manliness, Drawn with the power of an heart-robbing eye, And wrapt in fetters of a golden tress, That can with melting pleasaunce mollify Their harden'd hearts, enur'd to blood and cruelty. Spenser's Fairy Queen. For sure of all that in this mortal frame Contained is, nought more divine doth seem, Or that resembleth more th' immortal flame Of heavenly light, than beauty's glorious beam. What wonder then if with such rage extreme Frail men, whose eyes seek heavenly things to see, At sight thereof so much enravish'd be ? Spenser. For beauty is the bait which, with delight, Doth man allure, for to enlarge his kind ; Beauty, the burning lamp of heaven's light, Darting her beams into each feeble mind, Against whose power nor god nor man can find Defence, reward the daunger of the wound ; But, being hurt, seek to be medicin'd Of her that first did stir that mortal stownd. Spenser. Ye tradeful merchants ! that with weary toil Do seek most precious things to make your gaine, And both the Indies of their treasures spoil ; What noedcth you to seek so far in vain ? For lo ! my love doth in herself contain /\\\ this world's riches that may far be found; If saphyrs, lo ! her eyes be saphyrs plain; If rubies, lo ! her lips be rubies sound ; If pearls, her teeth be pearls, both pure and round. If ivory, her forehead ivory ween ; If gold, her locks are finest gold on ground ; If silver, her fair hands are silver sheen : But that which fairest is, but few behold, Her mind, adorn'd with vertues manifold. Spenser Her looks were like beams of the morning sun, Forth-looking through the windows of the east, When first the fleecie cattle have begun Upon the pearled grass to make their feast. Spenser. The fairness of her face no tongue can tell, For she the daughters of all wemen's race, And angels eke, in beautie doth excell, Sparkled on her from God's own glorious face, And more increast by her own goodly grace, That it doth far exceed all human thought, Ne can on earth compared be to aught. Spenser's Hymne of Heavenly Beautie For she was full of amiable grace, And manly terror mixed therewith all ; That as the one stirr'd up affections base, So th' other did men's rash desires appall, And hold them backe, that would in error fall : As he that hath espied a virmill rose, To which sharpe thornes and breeres the way forstall, Dare not for dread his hardy hand expose, But wishing it farr off his ydle wish doth lose. Spenser's Fairy Queen. Her sacred beauty hath enchanted heav'n, And, had she liv'd before the siege of Troy, Helen, whose beauty summon'd Greece to arms, And drew a thousand ships to Tenedos, Had not been nam'd in Homer's Iliad ; Her name had been in every fine he wrote. Mario's Tamberlane the Great. Beauty 's a slipp'ry good, which decreaseth Whilst it is increasing : resembling the Medlar, which, in the moment of his full Ripeness, is known to be in a rottenness. Whilst you look in the glass, it waxcth old With time ; if on the sun, parched with heat ; if On the wind, blasted with cold. A great care To keep it, a short space to enjoy it, A sudden time to lose it. Lilly's SappJio. Why did the gods give thee a heavenly form, And earthly thoughts to make thee proud of it ? Why do I ask ? 'T is now the known disease That beauty hath, to bear too deep a sense Of her own self-conceived excellence. Jonson's Cynthia's Revels. BEAUTY. 43 So fair, that had you beauty's picture took, It must like her, or not like beauty look. Aleyn's Henry VII What greater torment ever could have been, Than to enforce the fair to live retir'd ? For what is beauty if it be not seen ? Or what is 't to be seen — if not admir'd ? And though admir'd, unless in love desir'd ? Never were cheeks of roses, locks of amber, Ordain'd to live imprison'd in a chamber. Nature created beauty for the view, (Like as the fire for heat, the sun for light :) The fair do hold this privilege as due, By ancient charter, to live most in sight, And she that is debarr'd it, hath not right. [n vain our friends from this do us dehort, For beauty will be where is most resort. Daniel's Rosamund. Beauty, sweet love, is like the morning dew, Whose short refresh upon the tender green, Cheers for a time, but till the sun doth show ; And straight is gone, as it had never been. Daniel. Nature was here so lavish of her store, That she bestow'd until she had no more ; Whose treasure being weaken'd by this dame, She thrusts into the world so many lame. Brown's Pastorals. Beauty, my lord, 'tis the worst part of woman, A weak poor thing, assaulted ev'ry hour By creeping minutes of defacing time ; A superficies, which each breath of care Blasts off; and ev'ry hum'rous strea^pi of grief, Which flows from forth these fountains of our eyes, Washeth away, as rain doth winter's snow. Gqffe's Courageous Turk. 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. Randolph. There 's no miniature In her face, but is a copious theme, Which would, discours'd at large of, make a volume. What clear arch'd brows ! what sparkling eyes ! the lilies Contending with the roses in her cheeks, Who shall most set them off. What ruby lips ! — Or unto what can I compare her neck, But to a rock of crystal ? Every limb Proportion'd to love's wish, and in their neatness Add lustre to the richness of her habit, Not borrow'd from it. Massinger, No autumn, nor no age ever approach This heavenly piece, which nature having wrought. She lost her needle, and did then despair Ever to work so lively and so fair. Massinger and Field's Fatal Doiory. Do not idolatrize ; beauty 's a flow'r, Which springs and withers almost in an hour. William Smith's Hector of Germany. We can distinguish Of beauty there, and wonder without spectacles, Write volumes of your praise, and tell the world How envious diamonds, 'cause they could not Reach to the lustre of your eyes, dissolv'd To angry tears ; the roses droop, and gath'ring Their leaves together, seem to chide their blushes That they must yield your cheek the victory : The lilies when they're censur'd for comparing With your more clear and native purity, Want white to do their penance in. Shirley's Royal Master. Heav'n meant that beauty, nature's greatest force, Having exceeding pow'r, should have remorse ; Valour, and it, the world should so enjoy, As both might overcome, but not destroy. Lord Orrery's Henry V. My beauty, though but mean, Needs not the painted flourish of your praise : Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye, Not utter'd by base sale of chapmen's tongues. Shaks. Love's Labour Lost. O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright ! It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear : Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear ! Shaks. Romeo and Juliet. Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale Her infinite variety : other women cloy The appetites they feed ; but she makes hungry, Where most she satisfies. Shaks. Antony and Cleopatta, Beauty is a witch, Against whose charms faith melteth into blood. Shaks. Much Ado. 'T is beauty truly blent, whose red and white Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on. Sliaks. Twelfth Night Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good, A shining gloss that fadeth suddenly, A flower that dies when first it 'gins to bud, A brittle glass that 's broken presently : A doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower, Lost, faded, broken, dead with an hour. Shakspeart 44 BEAUTY. Give me a look, give mc a face That makes simplicity a grace Robes loosely flowing, hair as free ! Such sweet neglect more taketh me, Than all the adulteries of art; That strike mine eyes but not my heart. Ben Johnson. Beauty is nature's coin, must not be hoarded, But must be current, and the good thereof Consists in mutual and partaken bliss, Unsavoury in th' enjoyment of itself: If you let slip time, like a neglected rose, It withers on the stalk with languished head. Milton's Camus. Beai ty, like the fair Hesperian tree, Laden with blooming gold, had need the guard Of dragon watch with unenchanted eye, To save her blossoms and defend her fruit From the rash hand of bold incontinence. Milton's Comus. With goddess-like demeanour forth she went, Not unattended, for on her as queen A pomp of winning graces waited still, And from about her shot darts of desire Into all eyes to wish her still in sight. Milton's Paradise Lost. Grace was in all her steps, heav'n in her eye, In ev'ry gesture dignity and love. Milton's Paradise Lost. When I approach Her loveliness, so absolute she seems, And in herself complete, so well to know Her own, that what she wills to do or say, Seems wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best, All higher knowledge in her presence falls Degraded, wisdom in discourse with her Loses discount'nane'd, and like folly shows. Milton's Paradise Lost. Her hcav'nly form Angelic, but more soft and feminine, Her graceful innocence, her every air Of gesture or least action ovcraw'd His malice, and with rapine sweet bereav'd His fierceness of the fierce intent it brought Milton's Paradise Lost. She seizes hearts, not waiting for consent, Like sudden death, that snatches, unprepared; Like fire from heaven, scarce seen so soon as felt Lansdown's Heroic Love. J fatal beauty ! why art thou bestow'd On hapless woman still to make her wretched! ttciray'd by thee, how many are undone ! Patterson's Arminius. Beauty stands In the admiration only of weak minds Led captive ; cease to admire, and all her plume* Fall flat and shrink into a trivial toy, At every sudden slighting quite abash'd. Milton's Paradise Regained What is beauty ? Not the show Of shapely limbs and features. No : These are but flowers That have their dated hours, To breathe their momentary sweets, then go. 'T is the stainless soul within That outshines the fairest skim Sir A. Hunt Oh ! she has beauty might ensnare A conqueror's soul, and make him tear his crown At random, to be scuffled for by slaves. Otway's Orphan Mark her majestic fabric ! she's a temple Sacred by birth, and built by hands divine ; Her soul 's the deity that lodges there ; Nor is the pile unworthy of the god. Dryden's Don Sebastian. The holy priests gaze on her when she smiles, And with heav'd hands, forgetting gravity, They bless her wanton eyes. Ev'n I, who hate her, With a malignant joy behold such beauty, And, while I curse, desire it Dryden's All for Love. At her feet were laid The sceptres of the earth, exposed on heaps, To choose where she would reign. Dryden's All for Love. Her eyes, her lips, her cheeks, her shapes, her features, Seem to be drawn by love's own hrnd; by love Himself in love. Dryden's Love Triumphant. One who would change the worship of all climates, And make a new religion where'er she comes, Unite the differing faiths of all the world, To idolize her face. Dryden's Love Triumphant. A native grace Sat fair proportion'd on her polish'd limbs, Veil'd in a simple robe, their best attire, Beyond the pomp of drc^s : for loveliness Needs not the foreign aid of ornament, But is, when unadorn'd, adorn'd the most Thomson's Seasons. Her form was fresher than the morning rose, When the dew wets its leaves ; unstain'd, and pure, As is the lily, or the mountain snow. Thomson's i BEAUTY. 45 'T is 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. Yet graceful ease, and sweetness void of pride, Might hide her faults, if belles had faults to hide ; If to her share some female errors fall, Look on her face, and you'll forget 'em all. Pope's Rape of the Lock. Is she not brighter than a summer's morn, When all the heav'n is streak'd with dappled fires, And fleck'd with blushes like a rifled maid ? Lee's Duke of Guise. O she is all perfections ! All that the blooming earth can send forth fair ; All that the gaudy heavens could drop down glorious. Lee's Theodosius. A lavish planet reign'd when she was born, And made her of such kindred mould to heav'n, She seems more heav'n's than ours. Lee's OEdipus. The bloom of opening flowers' unsullied beauty, Softness, and sweetest innocence she wears, And looks like nature in the world's first spring. Rowe's Tamerlane. Is she not more than painting can express, Or youthful poets fancy when they love ? Rowe's Fair Penitent. O how I grudge the grave this heav'nly form ! Thy beauties will inspire the arms of death, And warm the pale cold tyrant into life. Southern's Loyal Brother. Her grace of motion and of look, the smooth And swimming majesty of step and tread, The symmetry of form and feature, set The soul afloat, even like delicious airs Of flute or harp. Milman. What tender force, what dignity divine, What virtue consecrating every feature ! Around that neck what dross are gold and pearl ! Young's Busiris. 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. Hence men are often captives of a face, They know not why, of no peculiar grace : Some forms, though bright, no mortal man can bear; Some, none resist, though not exceeding fair. Young. Beauty ! thou pretty playtliing ! dear deceit, That steals so softly o'er the stripling's heart, And gives it a new pulse unknown before ! The grave discredits thee : thy charms expung'd, Thy roses faded, and thy lilies soil'd, What hast thou more to boast of? will thy lovers Flock round thee now, to gaze and do thee homage ? Methinks I see thee with thy head laid low ; Whilst surfeited upon thy damask cheek, The high-fed worm, in lazy volumes roll'd, Riots unscar'd. For this was all thy caution ? For this thy painful labours at thy glass, T 'improve those charms and keep them in repair, For which the spoiler thanks thee not? Foul feeder ! Coarse fare and carrion please thee full as well, And leave as keen a relish on the sense. Blair's Grave. To make the cunning artless, tame the rude, Subdue the haughty, shake th' undaunted soul ; Yea, put a bridle in the lion's mouth, And lead him forth as a domestic cur, These are the triumphs of all-powerful beauty. Joanna Baillie's Basil. But then her face, So lovely, yet so arch, so full of mirth, The overflowings of an innocent heart. Rogers's Italy. Beauty, That transitory flower : even while it lasts Palls on the roving sense, when held too near, Or dwelling there too long : by fits it pleases ; And smells at distance best ; its sweets, familiar By frequent converse, soon grow dull and cloy you Jeffery's Edwin With head upraised, and look intent, An eye and ear attentive bent, And locks flung back, and lips apart, Like monument of Grecian art In listening mood, shs seemed to stand, The guardian naiad of the strand. Scott's Lady of the Lukt. The rose, with faint and feeble streak, So slightly tinged the maiden's cheek, That you had said her hue was pale; But if she faced the summer-gale, Or spoke, or sung, or quicker moved, Or heard the praise of those she loved, Or when of interest was expressed Aught that waked feeling in her breast, The mantling blood in ready play Rivalled the blush of rising d;ty. Scott's Rokeby, 40 BEAUTY. riiere was a soft and pensive grace, A cast of thought upon her face, That suited well the forehead high, The eye-lash dark, and downcast eye, The mild expression spoke a mind In duty firm, composed, resigned. Scott's Rokeby. Fair all the pageant — but how passing fair The slender form, which lay on couch of Ind ! O'er her white bosom stray'd her hazel hair, Pale her dear cheek, as if for love she pined. Scott's Lay of the Last Minstrel. Such harmony in motion, speech and air, That without fairness, she was more than fair. Crabbe. Lo ! when the buds expand the leaves are green, Then the first opening of the flower is seen ; Then come the honied breath and rosy smile, That with their sweets the willing sense beguile : But as we look, and love, and taste, and praise, And the fruit grows, the charming flower decays ; Till all is gathered, and the wintry blast Moans o'er the place of love and pleasure past. So 'tis with beauty, — such the opening grace And dawn of glory in the youthful face ; Then are the charms unfolded to the sight, Then all is loveliness and all delight ; The nuptial tie succeeds, and genial hour, And, lo ! the falling off of beauty's flower. So through all nature is the progress made, — The bud, the bloom, the fruit, — and then we fade. Crabbe. Oh ! how refreshing seemed the breathing wind, To her faint limbs I and while her snowy hands From her fair brow her golden hair unbind, And of her zone unloose the silken bands, More passing bright unveiled her beauty stands ; For faultless was her form as beauty's queen, And every winning grace that love demands With mild attempered dignity was seen Play o'er each lovely limb, and deck her angel mien. Mrs. Tighe's Psyche. Ev'n then her presence had the power To soothe, to warm, — nay, ev'n to bless — If ever bliss could graft its flower On stem so full of bitterness — Ev'n then her glorious smile to me, Brought warmth and radiance, if not balm Like moonlight on a troubled sea, 'lightening the storm it cannot calm. Moore's Loves of the Angels. As rising on its purple wing The insect queen of eastern spring, J'er emerald meadows of Kashmere, Invites the young pursuer near, And leads him on from flower to flower, A weary chase and wasted hour, Then leaves him, as it soars on high, With panting heart and tearful eye: So beauty lures the full-grown child, With hue as bright and wing as wild ; A chase of idle hopes and fears, Begun in folly, closed in tears. Byron '* Giaour. She was a form of life and light, That, seen, became a part of sight; And rose, where'er I turn'd mine eye, The morning star of memory. Byron's Giaour. Such was Zuleika ! such around her shone The nameless charms unmarked by her alone : The light of love, the purity of grace, The mind, the music breathing from her face, The heart whose softness harmonized the whole— And, oh 1 that eye was in itself a soul ! Byron's Bride of Abydos. Alone and dewy, coldly pure and pale ; As weeping beauty's cheek at sorrow's tale. Byron's Bride of Abydos. 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 proved how feebly words essay To fix one spark of beauty's heavenly ray ? Who dotli 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. Her glance, how wildly beautiful ! how much Hath Phoebus woo'd in vain to spoil her cheek, Which glows yet smoother from his amorous clutch ! Who round the north for paler dames would seek ? How poor their forms appear ! how languid, wan and weak ! Byron's Childe Harold. Heart on her lips, and soul within her eyes, Soft as her clime, and sunny as her skies. Byron's Btppo. Her overpowering presence made you feel It would not be idolatry to kneel. Byron's Don Juan. Her glossy hair was cluster'd o'er a brow Bright with intelligence, and fair and smooth ; Her eyebrow's shape was like the aerial bow, Her cheek all purple with the beam of youth, BEAUTY. 47 Mounting-, at times, to a transparent glow, As if her veins ran lightning. Byron's Don Juan. \n eye's an eye, and whether black or blue, Is no great matter, so 'tis in request, 'Tis nonsense to dispute about a hue, — The kindest may be taken as a test. The fair sex should be always fair ; and no man, Till thirty, should perceive there's a plain woman. Byron's Don Juan. She gazed upon a world she scarcely knew — As seeking not to know it ; silent, lone, As grows a flower, thus quietly she grew, And kept her heart serene within its zone. There was awe in the homage which she drew, Her spirit seem'd as seated on a throne Apart from the surrounding world, and strong In its own strength — -most strange in one so young. Byron's Don Juan. We gaze and turn away, and know not where, Dazzled and drunk with beauty, till the heart Reels with its fulness. Byron. The beautiful is vanish'd, and returns not. Coleridge. There's beauty all around our paths, If but our watchful eyes Can trace it 'midst familiar things And through their lowly guise. Mrs. Hemans. True beauty never was defin'd — And features painted to the mind Are perfect only to the blind, Who never scan the image o'er. Mrs. Hale. Some souls lose all things but the love of beauty; And by that love they are redeemable. For in love and beauty the}' acknowledge good, And good is God. Bailey's Festus. The beautiful are never desolate; i But some one always loves them. Bailey's^Festus. Beauty gives The features perfectness, and to the form Its delicate proportions : she may stain The eye with a celestial blue — the cheek With carmine of the sunset ; she may breathe Grace into every motion, like the play Of the least visible tissue of a cloud : I She may give all that is within her own i Bright ccstus — and one glance of intellect, Like stronger magic, will outshine it all. Willis. Beautiful, yes ! but the blush will fade, The light grow dim which the blue eyes wear The gloss will vanish from curl and braid, And the sunbeam die in the waving hair. Turn from the mirror, and strive to win Treasures of loveliness still to last ; Gather earth's glory and bloom within, That the soul may be bright when youth is past. Mrs. Osgood. Thou art beautiful, young lady, — But I need not tell you this; For few have borne, unconsciously, The spell of loveliness. Wkittier Mrs. Welly Coleridge. I've gaz'd on many a brighter face, But ne'er on one for years, Where beauty left so soft a trace As it had left on hers. The face, O call it fair, not pale. A thing of beauty is a joy for ever. Shelley. No wonder that cheek in its beauty transcendant, Excelleth the beauty of others by far ; No wonder that eye is so richly resplendent, For your heart is a rose and your soul is a star. Mrs. Osgood. • — Her cheek had the pale pearly pink Of sea-shells, the world's sweetest tint, as though She lived, one half might deem, on roses sopp'd In silver dew. Bailey's Festus. When I forget that the stars shine in air, When I forget that beauty is in stars — Shall I fbrget thy beauty. Bailey. Thy glorious beauty was the gift of heaven, — As such thou should'st have priz'd it, and have died Ere thou didst yield it up to mortal touch, Unless thy heart went with it, to make pure And sanctify the offering. Mrs. Osgood. What right have you, madam, gazing in your shining mirror daily, Getting so by heart your beauty, which all other3 must adore ; While you draw the golden ringlets down your fingers, to vow gayly, You will wed no man that's only good to God,- •• and nothing more. Miss Barral Beauty — the fading rainbow's Dride. Halleck 46 BED -BEES -BEGGAR. Without the smile from partial beauty won, Oh, what were man ! — a world without a sun ! Campbell. Beauty has gone ; but yet her mind is still As beautiful as ever ; still the play Of light around her lips has every charm Of childhood in its freshness. Percival. O, say not, wisest of all the kings, That have risen on Israel's throne to reign, Say not, as one of your wisest things, That grace is false and beauty vain. John Pierpont. Is beauty vain because it will fade ? Then are earth's green robe and heaven's light vain ; For this shall be lost in evening's shade, And that in winter's sleety rain. John Pierpont. I would that thou mightst ever be As beautiful as now; That time might ever leave as free Thy yet unwritten brow. Willis. She was like A dream of poetry, that may not be Written or told — exceeding beautiful. Willis. Beauty was lent to nature as the type Of heaven's unspeakable and holy joy, Where all perfection makes the sum of bliss. Mrs. Hale. BED. • Oh ! thou gentle scene Of sweet repose, where, by th' oblivious draught Of each sad toilsome day to peace restor'd. Unhappy mortals lose their woes awhile ; Thou hast no peace for me ! Thomson's Tancred and Sigismunda. Night is the time for rest; — How sweet, when labours close, To gather round an aching breast The curtain of repose, Stretch the tir'd limbs and lay the head Down on our own delightful bed! James Montgomery. BEES. So work the honey-bees; Creatures that, by a rule in nature, teach The art of orde- to a peopled kingdom. Shaks. Henry V, Look on the bee upon the wing 'mong flower* ; — How brave, how bright his life ! then mark him hiv'd, Cramp'd, cringing in his self-built, social cell. Thus is it in the world-hive : most where men Lie deep in cities as in drifts. Bailey's Festu3. BEGGAR. Art thou a man ? And sham'st thou not to beg ? To practise such a servile kind of life? Why, were thy education ne'er so mean, Having thy limbs, a thousand fairer courses Offer themselves to thy election. Jonson's Every Man in his Humour. Men of thy condition feed on sloth, As doth the beetle on the dung she breeds in ; Not caring how the metal of your minds Is eaten with the rust of idleness. Jonson's Every Man in his Humour When beggars grow thus bold, No marvel then though charity grow cold. Drayton. Base worldlings, that despise all such as need; Who to the needy beggar still are dumb, Not knowing unto what themselves may come. Heywood's Royal King. He makes a beggar first that first relieves him ; Not us'rers make more beggars where they live, Than charitable men that use to give. Heywood's Royal King. Beggar? — the only free men of our common- wealth, 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. His house was known to all the vagrant train, He chid their wand'rings but relicv'd their pain ; The long rcmembcr'd beggar was his guest, Whose beard descending swept his aged breast Goldsmith's Deserted Village. The beggar, as he strctch'd his shrivcl'd hand, Rais'd not his eyes — and those who dropp'd the mite Pass'd on unnotie'd. Bailey. A beggar through the world am I, From place to place I wander by; — Fill up my pilgrim's scrip for me, For Christ's sweet sake and charity! James Russell Lowell BENEFITS - BIGOTRY. See yonder poor, o'er-labour'd wight, So abject, mean and vile, Who begs a brother of the eiirth To give him leave to toil ; And see his lordly fellow-worm The poor petition spurn! Burns. BENEFITS. A benefit upbraided, forfeits thanks. Lady Carew's Mariam. And 't is not sure so full a benefit, Freely to give, as freely to require. A bounteous act hath glory following it, They cause the glory, that the act desire. Lady Careio's Mariam. He that neglects a blessing, though he want A present knowledge how to use it, Neglects himself. Beaumont and Fletcher's Elder Brother. To brag of benefits one hath bestown, Doth make the best seem less, and most seem none ; So oftentimes the greatest courtesy Is by the doer made an injury. Bronze's Novella. BIGOTRY. Sure 'tis an orthodox opinion, That grace is founded in dominion. Butler's Hudibras. Nor does it follow, 'cause a herald Can make a gentleman scarce a year old, To be descended of a race Of ancient kings in a small space, That we should all opinions hold Authentic that we can make old. Butler's Hudibras. Soon their crude notions with each other fought ; The adverse sect deny'd what this had taught ; And he at length the amplest triumph gain'd, Who contradicted what the last maintain'd. Prior's Solomon. For modes of faith let graceless zealots fight ; His can 't be wrong, whose life is in the right. Pope's Essay on Man. Heav'n never took a pleasure or a pride, In starving stomachs, or a horsewhipp'd hide. Dr. Wolcofs Peter Pindar. Yet some there are, of men I think the worst, Poor imps ! unhappy, if they can 't be curst. Dr. Wolcofs Peter Pindar. D The good old man, too eager in dispute, Flew high ; and, as his Christian fury rose, Damn'd all for heretics who durst oppose. Dryderi's Religio Laid. The guiltless victim groan'd for their offence, And cruelty and blood was penitence ; If sheep and oxen could atone for men, Ah ! at how cheap a rate the rich might sin ! And great oppressors might heaven's wrath be guile, By offering his own creatures for a spoil. Dryderi's Religio Laid. The slaves of custom and establish'd mode, With pack-horse constancy we keep the road, Crooked or straight, through quags or thorny dells, True to the jingling of our leader's bells. Coivper's Tirocinium. To follow foolish precedents, and wink With both our eyes, is easier than to think. Cowpefs Tirocinium. Shall I ask the brave soldier who fights by my side In the cause of mankind, if our creeds agree ? 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 kiss ? No ! perish the hearts, and the laws that try Truth, valour, or love, by a standard like this. Moon. And many more such pious scraps, To prove (what we 've long prov'd perhaps) That mad as Christians us'd to be About the thirteenth century, There 's lots of Christians to be had In this, the nineteenth, just as mad ! Moore's Twopenny Post Bag. Yet spite of tenets so flagitious (Which must, at bottom, be seditious ; As no man living would refuse Green slippers, but from treasonous views ; Nor wash his toes but with intent To overturn the government!) Such is our mild and tolerant way, We only curse them twice a day, (According to a form that's set) And far from torturing, only let All orthodox believers beat 'em, And twitch their beards, where'er they meet 'em. Moore's Twopenny Post Bag. Where frugal monks their little relics show, And sundry legends to the stranger tell • Here impious men have punish'd been, and lo ' Deep in yon cave Honorius long did dwell In hope to merit heaven by making earth a hell. Byron's Childe Harmd so BIRDS. If this be true, indeed, Some Christians have a comfortable creed. Bijron's Don Juan. Tliou wilt absolve me from the deed, For he was hostile to thy creed ! The very name of Nazarene Was wormwood to his Paynim spleen. Byron's Giaour. And soul — but who shall answer where it went? 'Tis ours to bear, not judge the dead ; and they Who doom to hell, themselves are on the way, Unless these bullies of eternal pains Are pardoned their bad hearts fbr their worse brains. Byron's Island. My soul had drawn Light from the Book whose words are graved in light, There at the well-head had I found the dawn, And day, and noon, of freedom : — but too bright It shines on that which man to man hath given, And call'd the truth — the very truth from heaven ; And therefore seeks he, in his brother's sight To cast the mote, — and therefore strives to bind With his strong chain to earth, what is not Earth's — the Mind. Mrs. Hemans. Trust not the teacher with his lying scroll, Who tears the charter of thy shuddering soul ; The God of love, who gave the life that warms All breathing dust in all its varied forms, Asks not the tribute of a world like this To fill the measure of his perfect bliss. O. W. Holmes. BIRDS. But like the birds, great nature's happy com- moners, That haunt in woods, in meads and flow'ry gardens Rifle the sweets and taste the choicest fruits, Yet scorn to ask the lordly owner's leave. Rowe's Fair Penitent Up springs the lark, .Shrill voie'd, and loud, the messenger of morn ; Ere yet the shadows fly, he mounted sings Amid the dawning clouds, and from their haunts Calls up the tuneful nations. Thomson's Seasons. Every copse fJeep tangled, tree irregular, and bush Kending with dewy moisture, o'er the heads Of the coy quiristcrs that lodge within, Axe orodigai of harmony. The thrush And wood-lark, o'er the kind contending throng Superior heard, run through the sweetest length Of notes ; when listening Philomela deigns To let them joy, and purposes in thought Elate, to make her night excel the day. Thomson's Seasons. All abandon'd to despair, she sings Her sorrows through the night ; and, on the bough Sole sitting, still at every dying fall Takes up again her lamentable strain Of winding woe ; till, wide around, the woods Sigh to her song, and with her wail resound. Thomson's Seasons. 'Tis love creates their melody, and all This waste of music is the voice of love ; That even to birds, and beasts, the tender arts Of pleasing teaches. Hence the glossy kind Try every winning way inventive love Can dictate, and in courtship to their mates Pour forth their little souls. Thomson's Seasons. Ten thousand warblers cheer the day, and one The live-long night : nor these alone whose notes Nice finger'd art must emulate in vain, But cawing rooks, and kites that swim sublime In still repeated circles, screaming loud ; The jay, the pie, and e'en the boding owl That hails the rising moon, have charms for me. Cowper's Task. Loud sung the lark, the awaken'd maid Beheld him twinkling in the morning light, And wish'd for wings and liberty like his. Southey's Thalaba. Amid the flashing and feathery foam The stormy Petrel finds a home. Proctor. A light broke in upon my soul — It was the carol of a bird ; It ceased — and then it came again, The sweetest song ear ever heard. Byron. See the enfranchised bird, who wildly springs With a keen sparkle in his glowing eye, And a strong effort in his quivering wings Up to the blue vault of the happy sky. Mrs. Norton. The star of our forest dominions, The humming-bird darts to its food, Like a gem or a blossom, on pinions, Whose glory illumines the woods. Mrs. Oegooa. With sonorous notes Of every tone, mix'd in confusion sweet Our forest rings. Carlos Wilcox. BIRTH. 51 Fair is the swan, whose majesty prevailing O'er breezeless water, on Locano's lake, Bears him on, while proudly sailing He leaves behind a moon-illumin'd wake ; Behold ! the mantling spirit of reserve Fashions his neck into a goodly curve ; An arch thrown back between luxuriant wings Of whitest garniture, like fir-tree boughs, To which, on some unruffled morning clings A flaky weight of winter's purest snows. Wordsworth. Is that a swam that rides upon the water ? O no, it is that other gentle bird, A goose. O. W. Holmes. The noisy geese that gabbled in the pool. Goldsmith. And the ruffling bird of Juno, — And the wren in the old wall, Each knew her loving carefulness And came at her soft call. Mrs. Hale's Alice Ray. The robin to the garden or green yard, Close to the door repairs to build again Within her wonted tree. Carlos Wilcox. The brown vultures of the woods Flock'd to these vast uncover'd sepulchres And sat unscar'd and silent at their feast. Bryant. Lone whippoorwill ; There is much sweetness in thy fitful hymn, Heard in the drowsy watches of the night. Isaac McLellan, Jr. Seeing one crow is lucky, 'tis true, But sure misfortune attends on two, And meeting with three is the devil. M. G. Lewis. With storm-daring pinion, and sun-gazing eye, The Grey Forest Eagle is king of the sky. Alfred B. Street. An emblem of Freedom, stern, haughty and high Is the Grey Forest Eagle, that king of the sky, It scorns the bright scenes, the gay places of earth — By the mountain and torrent it springs into birth ; There rock'd by the wild wind, baptiz'd by the foam, It is guarded and cherish'd, and there is its home. Alfred B. Street. Hark ! how with lone and fluttering start The sky-lark soars above, And with her full, melodious heart, She pours her strains of love. Mrs. Welby. The pilgrim swallow cometh To her forsaken nest, — So must each heart, that roameth, Return to find its rest Where love makes summer lustre. Mrs. Hale Ever, my son, be thou like the dove ; In friendship as faithful, as constant in love. Bishop Doane. There from a neighbouring thicket the mocking. bird, wildest of singers, Swung aloft on a willow spray that hung o'er the water, Shook from his little throat such floods of delicious music, That the whole air and the woods and the waves seem'd to listen. Longf dime's Evangeline. Hark ! that sweet carol ! what delights, The scene no more is dumb, — The little blue-bird is in sight, Spring, glorious Spring, has come. Street's Poems. The partridge, whose deep-rolling drum, Afar has sounded on my ear, Ceasing its beatings as I come, Whirrs to the sheltering branches near. Street's Poems The quail's quick whistle echoed clear, From the red buckwheat-stubble near. Street's Poems This great solitude is quick with life ; And birds that scarce have learn'd the fear of men Are here. Bryant BIRTH. Verily, I swear, 't is better to be lowly born, And range with humble livers in content, Than to be perk'd up in a glist'ring grief, And wear a golden sorrow. Shales. Henry VIll Madam, you haply scorn the vulgar earth Of which I stand compacted : and because I cannot add a splendour to my name, Reflective from a royal pedigree, You interdict my language ; but be pleas'c To know, the ashes of my ancestors, If intermingled in the tomb with kings, Could hardly be distinguish'd. The stars shoot An equal influence on th' open cottage, Where the poor shepherd's child is rudely nurs'd, As on the cradle where the prince is rock'd With care and whisper. Habbington's Queen of Amiga* m BIRTHDAY - BLINDNESS. No distinction is 'tween man and man, But as his virtues add to him a glory, Or vices cloud him. Habbington's Queen of Arragon. Put off your giant titles, then I can Stand in your judgment's blank and equai man, Though hills advanced are above the plain, They are but higher earth, nor must disdain Alliance with the vale : we see a spade Can level them, and make a mount a glade. Howe'er we differ in the herald's book, He that mankind's extraction shall look In nature's rolls, must grant we all agree In our best parts, immortal pedigree. Dr. Henry King, Bishop of Chichester. Let high birth triumph ! what can be more great ? Nothing — but merit in a low estate. To virtue's humblest son let none prefer Vice, though descended from the Conqueror. Shall man, like figures, pass for high, or base, Slight or important, only by their place ? Titles are marks of honest men, and wise ; The fool, or knave, that wears a title, lies. Young. Look up, my young American, Stand firmly on the earth, Where noble deeds and mental power Give titles over birth. Mrs. Caroline Gilman. Tradition's pages Tell not the planting of thy parent tree. Halleck. I have had dreams of greatness, glorious dreams, How I would play the lord ! — How I would spurn The littleness of that false pride which seeks To build on pedigree its high renown: — How I would lend my influence to suppress The haughtiness of titled rank, and teach That brain, not blood was proof of noble birth. Mrs. Hale's Grosvenor ; a Tragedy. I 've learned to judge of men by their own deeds, I do not make the accident of birth The standard of their merit. Mrs. Hale's Grosvenor. He was poor and lowly born, and lived Where merit must be heralded by birth, ( )r bought with gold. Mrs. Hale's Grosvenor. BIRTHDAY. Alas ! this day first gave me birth, and (which is strange to tell) 'Hie fates e'er sin-.c, as watching its return, Have caught it as it flew, and mark'd it deep With something great ; extremes of good or ill. Young's Busiris If any white-winged power above My joys and griefs survey, The day when thou wert born, my love, — He surely blessed that day. And duly shall my raptured song, And gladly shall my eyes Still bless this day's return, so long As thou shalt see it rise. Campbell. Another year ! another leaf Is turned within life's volume brief, And yet not one bright page appears Of mine within that book of years. Yet all I've learnt from hours rife With painful brooding here, Is, that amid this mortal strife, The lapse of every year But takes away a hope from life, And adds to death a fear. Why should we count our life by years, Since years are short, and pass away ! Or, why by fortune's smiles or tears, Since tears are vain and smiles decay O! count by virtues — these shall last When life's lame-footed race is o'er; And these, when earthly joys are past, May cheer us on a brighter shore, Hoffman. Hoffman. My birthday! O, beloved mother! My heart is with thee o'er the seas. I did not think to count another, Before I wept upon thy knees. Mrs. Hale. Willis. BLINDNESS. Where am I now ? I thought the way to death had been so broad, Tho' I were blind, I could not miss the road : Death's lodgings such perpetual darkness have, And I seem nothing but a walking grave. Sir Robert Howard's Vestal Virgin. O happiness of blindness ! now no beauty Inflames my lust; no other's good my envy; Or misery, my pity ; no man's wealth Draws my respect ; nor poverty my scorn * Yet still I see enough ! man to himself Is a large prospect, rais'd above the level Of his low creeping thoughts ; if then I have' A world within myself, that world shall be BLUNTNESS. My empire ; there I '11 reign, commanding freely, And willingly obey'd, secure from fear Of foreign forces, or domestic treasons, And hold a monarchy more free, more absolute, Than in my father's seat ; and looking down With scorn, or pity, on the slipp'ry state Of kings, will tread upon the neck of fate. Denliam's Sophy. These eyes, though clear, To outward view, of blemish or of spot, Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot ; Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear Of sun, or moon, or star, 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. What supports me, dost thou ask ? The conscience, friend, to have lost them overpiied In liberty's defence, my noble task, Of which all Europe rings from side to side. This might lead me through the world's vain mask Content, though blind, had I no better guide. Milton. loss of sight, of thee I most complain! Blind among enemies, O worse than chains, Dungeons or beggary or decrepid age ! Light, the prime work of God, to me 's extinct, And all her various objects of delight Annull'd which might in part my grief have eas'd. Milton's Samson Agonistes. O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon, Irrevocably dark, total eclipse Without all hope of day ! O first created beam, and thou great word, Let there be light, and light was over all ; Why am I thus bereav'd the prime decree ? Milton's Samson Agonistes. 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 cloud 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. Ye have a world of light, Where love in the loved rejoices ; But the blind man's home is the house of night, And its beings are empty voices. Bulwer. I ken the night and day, For all ye may believe, And often in my spirit lies A clear light as of mid-day skies ; And splendours on my vision rise, Like gorgeous hues of eve. Mary Howiti, For oh ! while others gaze on Nature's face, The verdant vale, the mountains, woods and streams, Or with delight ineffable survey The sun, — bright image of his parent God ; — Whilst others view Heaven's all-involving arch, Bright with unnumber'd worlds, and lost in joy, Fair order and utility behold; — To me those fair vicissitudes are lost, And grace and beauty blotted from my view. Dr. Thomas Blacklcck. Thou walk 'st the world in daily night : In vain they gleam, in vain for thee, The morn upon the mountain height, The golden sunset on the sea. Mrs. Osgood, He, whom Nature thus bereaves, Is ever Fancy's favourite child; For thee, enchanted dreams she weaves Of changeful beauty, bright and wild. Mrs. Osgood BLUNTNESS. This is some fellow, Who, having been prais'd for bluntness, doth affect A saucy roughness, and constrains the garb, Quite from his nature : he can't flatter, he ! — An honest mind and plain, — he must speak truth ' An they will take it, so ; if not, he 's plain. These kind of knaves I know, which in this plain ness Harbour more craft, and far corrupter ends, Than twenty silly ducking observants, That stretch their duty nicely. Shahs. Lear This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit, Which gives men stomach to digest his words With better appetite. Shaks. Julius Co&ai. I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, Nor actions, nor utterance, nor the power a' speech, To stir men's blood : I only speak right on. Shahs. Juhus Ccbsw 5* 54 BLUSHING - BOASTING. BLUSHING. The doubtful! mayd, seeing herselfe descryde, Was all abasht, and her pure yvory Jnto a clear carnation suddeine dyde ; As fayre Aurora rysing hastily Doth by her blushing; tell that she did lye All night in old Tithonus' frozen bed, Whereof she seems ashamed inwardly. Spenser's Fairy Queen. Confusion thrill'd me then, and secret joy, Fast throbbing, stole its treasures from my heart, And mantling upward, turn'd my face to crimson. Brooke's Gustavw Vasa. From every blush that kindles in thy cheeks, Ten thousand little loves and graces spring To revel in the roses. Rome's Tamerlane. Confound me not with shame, nor call up all The blood that warms my trembling heart, To fill my cheeks with blushes. Trap's Albramule. With every change his features played, As aspens show the light and shade. Scott's RoJcely. Truly his penetrating eye Hath caught that blush's passing dye, — Like the last beam of evening thrown On a white cloud, — just seen and gone. Scott's Lord of the Isles. Alas ! that in our earliest blush Our danger first we feel, And tremble when the rising flush Eetrays some angel's seal! Alas ! for care and pallid woe Sit watchers in their turn, Where heaven's too faint and transient glow So soon forgets to burn ! Maiden ! through every change the same Sweet semblance thou mayst wear; Ay, scorcli thy very soul with shame, Thy brow may still be fair: But if thy lovely cheek forget The rose of purer years — Say, docs not memory- sometimes wet That changeless cheek with tears ? O. W. Holmes. Give me the eloquent cheek, Where blushes burn and die; l-ike thine its changes speak The spirit's purity! Mrs. Osgood's Poems. On Beauty's lids the gem-like tear Oft sheds its evanescent ray, But scarce is seen to sparkle, ere 'Tis chased by beaming smiles away: Just so the blush is formed — and flies — Nor owns reflection's calm control : It comes, it deepens — fades and dies, A gush of feeling from the soul. Mrs. Dinni The lilies faintly to the roses yield, As on thy lovely cheek they struggling vie, (Who would not strive upon so sweet a field To win the mastery ?) And thoughts are in thy speaking eyes reveal'd, Pure as the fount the prophet's rod unseal'd. Hoffman, BOASTING. O Jove ! let it become To boast my deeds, when he whom they concern Shall thus forget them. Jonson's Sejanua. The honour is overpaid, When he that did the act is commentator. Shirley. He that vaunts Of a received favour ought to be Punish'd as sacrilegious persons are. 'Cause he doth violate that sacred thing, Pure, spotless honour. CartwrigM's Royal Slave. For then we wound our modesty, and make Foul the clearness of our deservings, when Of ourselves we publish them. Shahs. All's Well Who knows himself a braggart, Let him fear this; for it will come to pass That every braggart shall be found an ass. Shahs. All's Well Here 's a large mouth, indeed, That spits forth death, and mountains, rocks, anc seas; Talks as familiarly of roaring lions, As maids of thirteen do of puppy dogs. Shahs. King John I know them, yea, And what they weigh, even to the utmost scruple: Scambling, out-facing, fashion mong'ring boys, That lie, and coy, and flout, deprave and slander, Go antickly, and show outward hideousness, And speak off half a dozen dangerous words, How they might hurt their enemies if they durst; And this is all. Shahs. Much Ado. BOOKS. 65 I '11 turn two mincing steps Into a manly stride ; and speak of frays Like a fine bragging youth ; and tell quaint lies, How honourable ladies sought my love, Which I denying, they fell sick and died : I could not do with all : — then I will repent, And wish, for all that, that I had not kill'd them, And twenty of these puny lies I'll tell, That men shall swear I have discontinued school Above a twelvemonth. Skaks. Merchant of Venice. What art thou ? Have not I An arm as big as thine ? a heart as big ? Thy words, I grant, are bigger ; for I wear not My dagger in my mouth. Shales. Cymheline. He made me mad, To see him shine so brisk, and smell so sweet, And talk so like a waiting gentlewoman Of guns, and drums, and wounds (God save the mark !) And telling me, the sovereign'st thing on earth Was parmacity, for an inward bruise ; And that it was great pity, so it was, This villanous saltpetre should be digg'd Out of the bowels of the harmless earth, Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd So cowardly : and but for these wild guns, He would himself have been a soldier. . Shahs. Henry IV. A gallant curtle-axe upon my thigh, A boar-spear in my hand ; and (in my heart Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will) We'll have a swashing and a martial outside; As many other mannish cowards have, That do outface it with their semblances. Shahs. As you lihe it. Here is a silly, stately style indeed ! The Turk that two and fifty kingdoms hath, Writes not so tedious a style as this. Shahs. Henry IV. Nay, an thou 'It mouth, I'll rant as well as thou. Shaha. Hamlet. A mad-cap ruffian, and a swearing jack, That thinks with oaths to face the matter out Shahs. Taming the Shrew. So spake the apostate angel, though in pain, Vaunting aloud, but rack'd with deep despair. Milton's Paradise Lost. 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 hist'ry of each dire campaign More carnage loads the newspaper than plain. Dr. WolcoVs Peter Pindar. BOOKS. And though books, madam, cannot make this mind, Which we must bring apt to be set aright ; Yet do they rectify it in that kind, And touch it so, as that it turns that way Where judgment lies. And though we cannot find The certain place of truth, yet do they stay, And entertain us near about the same. Daniel. A book ! O rare one ! Be not, as is our fangled word, a garment Nobler than that it covers. Shahs. Cymheline Books should to one of these four ends conduce For wisdom, piety, delight, or use. Denliam Learning is more profound When in few solid authors 't may be found. A few good books, digested well, do feed The mind ; much cloys, or doth ill humours breed Robert Heath. Give me Leave to enjoy myself. That place that does Contain my books, the best companions, is To me a glorious court, where hourly I Converse with the old sages and philosophers ; And sometimes for variety, I confer With kings and emperors, and weigh their coun- sels; Calling their victories, if unjustly got, Unto a strict account ; and in my fancy, Deface their iil-plac'd statues. Can I then Part with such constant pleasures, to embrace Uncertain vanities ? No : be it your care To augment a heap of wealth : it shall be mine To increase in knowledge. Fletche* Books are 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. Our life, fame pieceth longer at the end, And books it farther backward doth extend. Sir Thomas Ovxourtt 'Tis in books the chief Of all perfections to be plain and bne£ Butlei 5f? BOUNTY - BREVITY - BRIBERY. "Twere 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. Cowper. Books are men of higher stature, And the only men that speak aloud for future times to hear ! Miss Barrett's Poems. Come let me make a sunny realm around thee, Of thought and beauty! — Here are books and flowers, With spells to loose the fetters which hath bound thee, The ravell'd evil of this world's feverish hours. Mrs. Hemans. 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. 'Tis pleasant, sure, to see one's name in print; A book 's a book although there 's nothing in 't. Byron. 'T was heaven to lounge upon a couch, said Gray, And read new novels on a rainy day. Charles Sprague. A blessing on the printer's art! — Books are the Mentors of the heart. Mrs. Hale. The burning soul, the burden'd mind In books alone companions find. Mrs. Hale. Turn back the tide of ages to its head, And hoard the wisdom of the honour'd dead. Charles Sprague. What he has written seems to me no more Than I have thought a thousand times before. Willis. We never speak our deepest feelings; Our holiest hopes have no revealings, Save in the gleams that light the face, Or fancies that the pen may trace. And hence to books the heart must turn When with unspoken thoughts vVe yearn, And gather from the silent page The just reproof, the counsel sage, 7 he consolation kind and true 7'hat soothes and heals the wounded heart. Mrs. Hale's Vigil of Love. |..i« there's a fever of the soul I icy on d this opiate control, v*' hen the doojc charm its influence loses. Mrs. Hale's Vigil of Love. BOUNTY. What you desire of him, he partly begs To be desir'd to give. It much would please hira That of his fortunes you would make a staff To lean upon. Shaks. Antony and Cleopatra. For his bounty, There was no winter in 't ; an autumn 't was That grew the more by reaping. Shaks. Antony and Cleopatra, O blessed bounty, giving all content ! The only fautress of all noble arts, That lend'st success to every good intent, A grace that rests in the most godlike hearts, By heav'n to none but happy souls infus'd, Pity it is, that e'er thou wast abus'd. Drayten. He that's liberal To all alike, may do a good by chance, But never out of judgment. Beaumont and Fletcher's Spanish Curate. Such moderation with thy bounty join, That thou may'st nothing give that is not thine That liberality is but cast away, Which makes us borrow what we cannot pay. DenJiam. Large was his bounty and his soul sincere, Heaven did a recompense as largely send ; He gave to misery all he had — a tear ; — He gain'd from heaven — 'twas all he wish'd- a friend ! Gray. BREVITY. Since brevity is the soul of wit, And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, I will be brief. Shaks. Hamlet. 'T is of books the chief Of all perfections to be plain and brief! Butler. Stop not, unthinking, every friend you meet To spin your wordy fabric in the street ; While you are emptying your colloquial pack, The fiend Lumbago jumps upon his back. 0. W. Holmes BRIBERY. What ! shall one of us, That struck the foremost man of all this world, But for supporting robbers ; — shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes? BUILDING - CALAMITY. 57 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. Shahs. Julius CcEsar. None does offend, none, I say none ; I '11 able 'em : Take that of me, my friend, who have the power To seal the accuser's lips. Shales. Lear. Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself Are much condemn'd to have an itching palm; To sell and mart your offices for gold To undeservers. Shales. Julius C&sar. The world is not thy friend, nor the world's law : The world affords no law to make thee rich ; Then be not poor, but break it and take this. Shahs. Romeo and Juliet. Who thinketh to buy villany with gold, Shall ever find such faith so bought — so sold. Marsion's Sophonisba. Silver, though white, Yet it draws black lines ; it shall not rule my palm There to mark forth his base corruption. Middleton and Rowley's Fair Quarrel. Petitions not sweetened With gold, are but unsavoury and oft refused ; Or if received, are pocketed, not read. A suitor's swelling tears by the glowing beams Of choleric authority are dried up Before they fall, or if seen, never pitied. Massinger. No, I '11 not trust the honour of a man : Gold is grown great, and makes perfidiousness A most common waiter in most princes' courts : He 's in the check-roll : I '11 not trust my blood : I know none breathing but will cog a dye For twenty thousand double pistolets. Marston. BUILDING. 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. Not walls, but subjects' love Do to a prince the strongest castle prove. GoJJ'e's Raging Turk. CALAMITY. Do not insult calamity : It is a barb'rous grossness, to lay on The weight of scorn, where heavy misery Too much already weighs men's fortunes down. DanieVs Philotas. Calamity is man's true touch-stone. Beaumont and Fletcher's Four Plays in One. How wisely fate ordain'd for human kind Calamity ! which is the perfect glass Wherein we truly see and know ourselves. How justly it created life too short ! For being incident to many griefs, Had it been destin'd to continue long, Fate, to please fools, had done the wise great wrong. Sir W. Covenant's Law against Lovers. Know, he that Foretells his own calamity, and makes Events before they come, twice over doth Endure the pains of evil destiny. But we must trust to virtue, not to fate ; That may protect, whom cruel stars will hate. Sir W. Davenanfs Distresses. Thus, sometimes hath the brightest day a cloud; And, after summer, ever more succeeds Barren winter with his wrathful nipping cold ; So cares and joys abound, as seasons fleet. Shahs. Henry VI. When men once reach their autumn, sickly joys Fall off apace, as yellow leaves from trees, At every little breath misfortune blows ; 'Till left quite naked of their happiness, In the chill blasts of winter they expire. This is the common lot. Young. Tell me no more Of my soul's lofty gifts ! Are they not vain To quench its haunting thirst for happiness ? Have I not loved, and striven, and failed to bind One true heart unto me, whereon my own Might find a resting-place, a home for all Its burden of affection ? I depart Unknown, though Fame goes with me ; I must leave The earth unknown. Mrs. Hemant. I turn rne back, and find a barren waste, Joyless and rayless ; a few spots arc there, Where briefly it was granted me to 'aste The tenderness of youthful love — in air The charm is broken. Percwal 58 CALM -CANDOUR. CALM. Pure was the temp'rate air, an even calm Perpetual reign'd, save what the zephyrs bland Breath'd o'er the blue expanse. Thomson's Seasons. Gradual sinks the breeze Into a perfect calm ; that not a breath I heard to quiver thro' the closing- woods, Or rustling- turn the many twinkling leaves Of aspen tall. The uncurling floods, diffus'd In glassy breadth, seem through delusive lapse, Forgetful of their course. 'Tis silence all, And pleasing expectation. Thornton's Seasons. The wind breathed soft as lovers sigh, And oft renew'd seem'd oft to die, With breathless pause, between. O who with speech of war and woes, Would wish to break the soft repose Of such enchanting scene ! Scoffs Lord of the Isles. St. George's banner, broad and gay, Now faded, as the fading ray Less bright, and less, was flung ; The evening gale had scarce the power To wave it on the donjon tower, So heavily it hung. Scott's Marmion. Twas one of those ambrosial eves A day of storm so often leaves At its calm setting — when the west Opens her golden bowers to rest, And a moist radiance from the skies Shoots trembling down, as from the eyes Of some meek penitent, whose last Bright hours atone for dark ones past, And whose sweet tears, o'er wrong forgiven, Shine as they fall with light from heaven ! Moore's Lalla RooJch. 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; — When the blue waters rise and fall, la sleepy sunshine mantling all; And ev'n that swell the tempest leaves, In like the full and silent heaves Of lovers' hearts, when newly blest, Toe newly to be quite at rest ! Moore's Lalla Rookh. The sea is like a silvery lake, And o'er its calm the vessel glides Gently as if it fcar'd to wake The slumbers of the silent tides. Moore Serenely my heart took the hue of the hour, Its passions were sleeping, were mute as the dead, And the spirit becalm'd but remember'd their power, As the billow the force of the gale that was fled ! Moore. And all was stillness, save the sea-bird's cry, And dolphin's leap, and little billow crost By some low rock or shelve, that made it fret Against the boundary it scarcely wet. Byron's Don Juan. So calm the waters scarcely seem to stray, And yet they glide like happiness away. Byron's Lara. When all the fiercer passions cease, i (The glory and disgrace of youth) ; When the deluded soul in peace, Can listen to the voice of truth; When we are taught in whom to trust, And how to spare, to spend, to give ; (Our prudence kind, our pity just,) 'Tis then we rightly learn to live. Crabb Thy beauty is as undenied As the beauty of a star ; And thy heart beats just as equally, Whate'er thy praises are ; And so long without a parallel Thy loveliness hath shone, That, followed like the tided moon, Thou movest as calmly on. Willis CANDOUR. Then, gentle Clarence, welcome unto Warwick And welcome, Somerset : — I hold it cowardice To rest mistrustful where a noble heart Hath paw'd an open hand in sign of love. Sliaks. Henry VIII Make my breast Transparent as pure crystal, that the world, Jealous of me, may see the foulest thought My heart does hold. Bucldngham The brave do never slum the light ; Just arc 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 heav'n and men are judges of their actions Rowe's Fair Penitent CARE. 59 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 ; But honesty Needs no disguise nor ornament : be plain. 'Tis great — 'tis manly to disdain disguise; It shows our spirit, or it proves our strength. Young's Night Thoughts. No haughty gesture marks his gait, No pompous tone his word, No studied attitude is seen, No palling nonsense heard ; He '11 suit his bearing to the hour, Laugh, listen, learn or teach, With joyous freedom in his mirth And candour in his speech. Eliza Cook. CARE. Rude was his garment, and to rags all rent, Ne better had he, ne for better cared ; With blist'red hands amongst the cinders brent, And fingers filthy, with long nayles unpared, Right fit to rend the food on which he fared : His name was Care; a blacksmith by his trade, That neither day nor night from working spared, But to small purpose yron wedges made : Those be unquiet thoughts that careful minds in- vade. Spenser's Fairy Queen. In care they live, and must for many care ; And such the best and greatest ever are. Lord Brooks's Alaham. Of all proceedings in this great affair, We must not use our fortunes, but our care. Clapthorne's Albertus Wallenstein. Although my cares do hang upon my soul Like mines of lead, the greatness of my spirit Shall shake the sullen weight off. Clapthorne's Albertus Wallenstein. What bliss, what wealth, did e'er the world be- stow On man, but cares and fears attended it ? May's Agrippina, Care that is enter'd once into the breast, Will have the whole possession ere it rest. Jonson's Tale of a Tub Thus sometimes hath the brightest day a cloud, And after summer ever more succeeds Barren winter with his wrathful nipping cold ; So cares and joys abound as seasons fleet. Shaks. Henry VI. Care keeps his watch" in every old man's eye, And where care lodgeth sleep * ill never he. Shaks. Romeo and Juliet Care is no cure, but rather corrosive, For things that are not to be remedied. Shaks. Henry VI You have ungently, Brutus, Stole from my bed : and yesternight, at supper, You suddenly arose, and walk'd about, Musing, and sighing, with your arms across : And when I ask'd you what the matter was, You star'd upon me with ungentle looks. Shaks. Julius Ccesar Care that in cloisters only seals her eyes, Which youth thinks folly, age and wisdom owns ■ Fools by not knowing her, outlive the wise ; She visits cities, but she dwells on thrones. Sir W. Davenanh 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. Burns. He woke, — to watch the lamp, and tell From hour to hour the castle-bell, Or listen to the owlet's cry, Or the sad breeze that whistles by, Or catch by fits the tuneless rhyme With which the warden cheats the time ; And envying think, how, when the sun Bids the poor soldier's watch be done, Couched on his straw, and fancy-free, He sleeps like careless infancy. Scott's Rokeby. And on, with many a step of pain, Our weary race is sadly run; And still, as on we plod our way, We find, as life's gay dreams depart, To close our being's troubled day, Nought left us but a broken heart Percival. What shouldst thou have ever known Of that blind goddess which deludes the world / Or what of Care ? Oh, if the joys of life Are linked with wealth, and fortune's gifts alone Can make us happy, then thy cup of life Is full to overflowing ! H. Pickering Ah ! who can say, however fair his view Through what sad scenes his path may lie ? Let careless youth its seeming joys pursue, Soon will they learn to scan with thoughtful eyo The illusive past and dark futurity. Kirk Whit* CO CAUSE - CAUTION - CELIBACY. I do not starve,' 1 not yet, not yet : But wait to-morrow ! Famine will be here. In the mean time, we've still grim Care — (whose tooth Is like the tiger's — sharp,) lest dreams should fall, And shadow us with sweet forgctfulncss. Barry Cornwall. CAUSE. Circumstance must make it probable Whether the cause's justness may command Th' attendance of success : For an attempt That's warranted by justice, cannot want A prosperous end. Nabb's Hannibal and Scipio. Justness of cause is nothing, When things are risen to the point they are : ■ 'Tis either not examin'd or believ'd Among the warlike. Suckling's Brennoralt. This is a cause which our ambition fills ; A cause, in which our strength we should not waste In vain, like giants, who did heave at hills ; 'T is too unwieldy for the force of haste. Sir W. DavenanVs Gondibert. Small are the seeds fate does unheeded sow Of slight beginnings to important ends ; Whilst wonder, which does best our rev'rence show To hcav'n, all reason's sight in gazing spends. Sir W. DavenanVs Gondibert. CAUTION. But now so wise and wary was the knight By triall of his former harms and cares, That he descry'd, and shunned still his slight: The fish, that once was caught, new bait will hardly bite. Spenser's Fairy Queen. Who 'scapes the snare Once, has a certain caution to beware. Chapnan's Revenge for Honour. They that fear the adder's sting, will not come Near his hissing. Chapman's Widow's Tears. None pities him that's in the snare, Anil wam'd before, would not beware. Herrick. The wound of peace is surety, Surety secure ; but modest doubt is called 'Hie beacon of inc wise, the tent that searcnes '» o lue bottom of the worst. Shaks. Troi. and Cres. It seems it is as proper to our age To cast beyond ourselves in our opinions, As it is common for the younger sort To lack discretion. Shales. Hamlet. When clouds are seen, wise men put on their cloaks ; When great leaves fall, then winter is at hand ; When the sun sets, who doth not look for night ? Untimely storms make men expect a dearth : All may be well ; but if God sort it so, 'T is more than we deserve, or I expect. SMcs. Riclmrd III, Be advis'd ; Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot That it doth singe yourself; we may outrun, By violent swiftness, that which we run at, And lose by over-running. Know you not, The fire, that mounts the liquor till it run o'er, In seeming to augment it, wastes it ? Be advis'd. SJtaks. Henry VIII. Trust none ; For oaths are straws, men's faiths are wafer cakes, And hold-fast is the only dog. Shaks. Henry V. Man's caution often into danger turns, And his guard falling, crushes him to death. Young's Night Thoughts. 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 Fables. All 's to be fear'd where all is to be lost. Byron. Let no man know thy business save some friend, A man of mind. Bailey. CELIBACY. But earlier is the rose distill'd, Than that which withering on the virgin thorn Grows, lives, and dies in single blessedness. SItakxpeare Lady, you are the crudest she alive, If you will lead these graces to the grave, And leave no copy. Shakspeare. Most women's weak resolves, like reeds, will fly, SliaKe 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, CEREMONY - CHALLENGE - CHANGE. 61 If I am fair, T 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 wit might jump to hear me ; For I have heard that lovers prove deceivers, When once they find that maidens are believers. From Michel Angelo. From her lone path she never turns aside, Though passionate worshippers before her fall ; Like some pure planet in her lonely pride, She seems to soar and beam above them all ! Mrs. Welby. And thus she wanders on — half sad, half blest — Without a mate for the pure lonely heart, That, yearning, throbs within her virgin breast, Never to find its lovely counterpart. Mrs. Welby. I'm an old maid! — and though I suffer by it I Must change my style, and leave off gay society. Willis. O many a summer's morning glow Has lent the rose its ray, And many a winter's drifting snow Has swept its bloom away; But she has kept the faithless pledge To this, her winter hour, And keep3 it still, herself alone, And wasted like the flower. 0. W. Holmes. CEREMONY. Ceremony was but devis'd at first, To set a gloss on faint deeds, — hollow welcomes, Recanting goodness, sorry e'er 'tis shown ; But where there is true friendship, there needs none. Shales. Timon. And what art thou, thou idol, ceremony ? What kind of god art thou ? that sufferest more Of mortal griefs than do thy worshippers^ What are thy rents ? What are thy comings in ? O ceremony, show me but thy worth : What is thy toll, O adoration ? Art thou aught else but place, degree, and form, Creating awe and fear in other men ? Wherein thou art less happy, being fear'd, Than they in fearing. What drink'st thou oft, instead of homage sweet, But poison'd flattery ? O be sick, great greatness, And bid thy ceremony give thee cure. Shaks. Henry V. 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 kneel, to sit, to stand ; Happy to fill religion's vacant place With hollow form, and gesture and grimace. Cowper It was withal a highly polished age, And scrupulous in ceremonious rite, When stranger stranger met upon the way, First each to other bowed respectfully, And large professions made of humble service. Pollock. CHALLENGE. I never in my life Did hear a challenge urg'd more modestly, Unless a brother should a brother dare To gentle exercise and proof of arms. Shaks. Henry IV. Now, Thomas Mowbray, do I turn to thee, And mark my greeting well ; for what I speak, My body shall make good upon this earth, Or my divine soul answer it in heaven : Thou art a traitor and a miscreant. Shaks. Richard II CHANGE. Weep not that the world changes — did it keep A stable, changeless course, 'twere cause to weep. Bryant Not in vain the distance beckons, Forward, forward let us range; Let the peoples' spin for ever Down the ringing grooves of change. Tennyson. I ask not what change Has come over thy heart, I seek not what chances Have doomed us to part; I know thou hast told me To love .thee no more, And I still must obey Where I once did adore. Hoffman In bower and garden rich and rare There 's many a cherish'd flower, Whose beauty fades, whose fragrance flits Within the flitting hour. Not so the simple forest leaf, Unprized, unnoticed, lying — 02 CHARACTER. The same through all its little life — It changes but in dying-. Be such, and only such, my friends ; Once mine, and mine for ever ; And here 's a hand to clasp in theirs, That shall desert them never. And thou be such, my gentle love, Time, chance, the world defying ; And take, 'tis all I have, a heart That changes but in dying. G. W. Doane. Ah ! if a fairy's magic might were mine, I 'd joy to change with each new wish of thine ; Nothing to all the world beside I'd be, And everything thou lovest in turn to thee. Mrs. Osgood. CHARACTER. Good name, in man and woman, dear my lord, Is the immediate jewel of their souls : Who steals my purse, steals trash ; 't is something, nothing, 'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands ; But he that filches from me my good name, Robs me of that, which not enriches him, And makes me poor indeed. SJtaks. Othello. Gnats are unnoticed wheresoe'er they fly, But eagles gazed upon by every eye. Shakspeare. Stand free and fast, And judge him by no more than what you know Ingenuousty, and by the right laid line Of truth, he truly will all styles deserve, Of wise, good, just ; a man both soul and nerve. Shirley's Ad?niral of France. She can't be parallel'd by art, much less By nature : she 'd battle painters to decypher Her exactly, as bad as agues puzzle doctors. Robert Neville's Poor Scholar. As through the hedgerows' shade the violet steals, And the sweet air its modest leaf reveals, Her softer charms, but by their influence known, Surprise all hearts, and mould them to her own. Rogers. Though gay as mirth, as curious thoughts sedate ; As elegance polite, as power elate; Profound as reason, and as justice clear ; Soft as compassion, yet as truth severe. vVith mo-ie capacity for love than earth Bestow a on most of mortal mould and birth, His earlv dreams of good out-stripped the truth, And troubled manhood followed baffled youth. Byron. The eye of the hale one, With joy in its gleam, Looks up in the noontide, And steals from the beam ; But the cheek of the pale one Is marked with despair, To feel itself fading, When all is so fair. Eliza Cook. Bespeak the man who acted out the whole — The whole of all he knew of high and true. Hoffman. Though looks and words, By the strong mastery of his practised will, Are overruled, the mounting blood betrays An impulse in its secret spring, too deep For his control. Southey And though, as you have said, the vernal bloom Of his first spirits fading, leaves him changed — 'T is not to worse. His mind is as a meadow Of various grasses, rich and fresh beneath, But o'er the surface some that come to seed Have cast a colour of sobriety. Taylor's Edwin. His talk is like a stream which runs With rapid change from rocks to roses ; He slips from politics to puns, Passes from Mahomet to Moses ; Beginning with the laws that keep The planets in their radiant courses, And ending with some precept deep For dressing eels or shoeing horses. Praed — The Vicar It is not mirth, for mirth she is too still ; It is not wit, which leaves the heart more chill, But that continuous sweetness, which with ease Pleases all round it from the wish to please. The New Timon Those who see thee in thy full-blown pride, Know little of affections crushed within, And wrongs which frenzy thee. Talfourd's Ion. She was the pride Of her familiar sphere — the daily joy Of all who on her gracefulness might gaze, And in the light and music of her way Have a companion's portion. Willis' Poems. The angels sang in heaven when she was bcrn. Longfcilow. Devoted, anxious, generous, void of guile, And with her whole heart's welcome in her s-nile. Mrs. Nortt**. CHARITY. 63 A gentle maiden, whose large, loving eyes Enshrine a tender, melancholy light, Like the soft radiance of the starry skies, Or autumn sunshine, mellow'd when most bright; She is not sad, yet in her gaze appears Something that makes the gazer think of tears. Mrs. Embury. She has a glowing heart, they say, Though calm her seeming be ; And oft that warm heart's lovely play Upon her cheek I see. Mrs. Osgood. Though time her bloom is stealing, There's still beyond his art — The wild flower wreath of feeling, The sunbeam of the heart. HaUeck. Bold in the cause of God he stood Like Templar in the Holy Land; And never knight of princely blood In lady's bower more bland. Mrs. Hale. His high broad forehead, marble fair, Told of the power of thought within ; And strength was in his raven hair — But when he smiled a spell was there That more than strength or power could win. Mrs. Hale's Vigil of Love. CHARITY. Good is no good, but if it be spend ; God giveth good for none other end. Spenser's Shepherd's Calendar. Charity ever Finds in the act reward, and needs no trumpet In the receiver. Beaumont and Fletcher's Sea Voyage. It was sufficient that his wants were known, True charity makes others' wants their own. Robert Dauborne's Poor Man's Comfort. For true charity Though ne'er so secret finds a just reward. May's Old Couple. For his bounty, There was no winter in 't ; an autumn 't was That grew the more by reaping. SJiaks. Ant. and Cleo. Nothing truly can be term'd mine own But what I make mine own by using well. Those deeds of charity which we have done Shall stay for ever with us : and that wealth Which we have so bestow' d, we only keep ; The other is not ours. Middleton. 'Mongst all your virtues I see not charity written, which some call The first-born of religion ; and I wonder, I cannot see it in yours. Believe it, sir, There is no virtue can be sooner miss'd, Or later welcom'd ; it begins the rest, And sets them all in order. Middleton Take physic, pomp ; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel ; That thou may'st shake the superflux to them, And show the heavens more just. Shaks. Lear Think not, the good, The gentle deeds of mercy thou hast done, Shall die forgotten all ; the poor, the pris'ner, The fatherless, the friendless, and the widow, Who daily own the bounty of thy hand, Shall cry to heav'n, and pull a blessing on thee. Rowe's Jane Shoie, How few, like thee, inquire the wretched out, And court the offices of soft humanity ! Like thee, reserve their raiment for the naked, Reach out their bread to feed the crying orphan, Or mix the pitying tears with those that veep ! Rowe's Jane SJwre. Great minds, like heaven, are pleas'd in doing good, Though the ungrateful subjects of their favours Are barren in return. Rowe's Tamerlane. The secret pleasure of a generous act Is the great mind's great bribe. Dryden's Don Sebastiai*. Is there a variance ? enter but his door, Balk'd are the courts, and contest is no more. Despairing quacks with curses left the place, And vile attorneys, now an useless race. Pope's Moral Essays. In faith and hope the world will disagree, But all mankind's concern is 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. Self-love thus push'd to social, — to divine, Gives thee to make thy neighbour's blessing thine. Is this too little for the boundless heart ? Extend it — let thy enemies have part, Grasp the whole worlds of reason, life and senst, In one close system of benevolence : Happier as kinder, in whate'er degree And height of bliss but height of charity. Pope's Essay op Mat* 54 CHARITY. The generous pride of virtue, Disdains to weigh too nicely the returns Her bounty meets with — like the liberal gods, From her own gracious nature she bestows, Nor stops to ask reward. Thomson's Coriolanus. But to the generous still-improving mind, That gives the hopeless heart to sing for joy, Diffusing kind beneficence around, Boastless, as now descends the silent dew ; To him the long review of order'd life, Is inward rapture, only to be felt. Thomson's Seasons. The truly generous is the truly wise ; And he who loves not others, lives unblest. Home's Douglas. His house was known to all the vagrant train, He chid their wanderings but reliev'd their pain : The long-remember'd beggar was his guest, Whose beard descending swept his aged breast ; The ruin'd spendthrift, now no longer proud, Claim'd kindred there, and had his claims allow' d. Goldsmith's Deserted Village. Pleas'd with his guests, the good man learn'd to glow, And quite forgot their vices in their woe ; Careless their merits or their faults to scan, His pity gave ere charity began. Goldsmith's Deserted Village. There are, while human miseries abound, A thousand ways to waste superfluous wealth, Without one fool or flatterer at our board, Without one hour of sickness or disgust. Armstrong's Art of Preserving Health. Pure in her aim, and in her temper mild, Her wisdom seems the weakness of a child : She makes excuses where she might condemn, Revil'd by those that hate her, prays for the.Tn ; Suspicion lurks not in her artless breast, The worst suggested, she believes the best ; Not soon provok'd, however stung and teas'd, And, if perhaps made angry, soon appeas'd ; She rather waves than will dispute her right, And injur'd makes forgiveness her delight. Cowper's CJiarity. 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 is the shadow it supplies, Its fruit on earth, its growth above the skies. Cowper's Charity. iJid chanty prevail, the press would prove A vemclc of virtue, truth, and love. Cowper's Charity I mean the man, who when the distant poor Need help, denies them nothing but his name. Cowper's Task. Far may we search before we find A heart so manly or so kind. But not around his honour' d urn, Shall friends alone and kindred mourn; The thousand eyes his care had dried, Pour at his name a bitter tide; And frequent falls the grateful dew, For. benefits the world ne'er knew. Scott's Marmion The drying up a single tear has more Of honest fame, than shedding seas of gore. Byron's Don Juan. And — not from piety but pride, Gives wealth to walls that never heard Of his own holy vow or word. Byron's Giaour. To the blind, the deaf, the lame, To the ignorant, and vile, Stranger, captive, slave, he came, With a welcome and a smile. Help to all he did dispense, Gold, instruction, raiment, food; Like the gifts of Providence, To the evil and the good. James Montgomery. Amid all life's quests There seems but worthy one — to do men good. Baihy. A poor man serv'd by thee, shall make thee rich. Miss Barrett. O, rich man's son ! there is a toil, That with all others level stands ; Large charity doth never soil, But only whitens soft white hands; — This is the best crop for thy lands; A heritage, it seems to me, Worth being rich to hold in fee. J. R. Lowell When poverty, with mien of shame, The sense of pity seeks to touch, — Or, bolder, makes the simple claim That, I have nothing, you have much, — Believe not either man or book, That bids you close the opening hand, And with reproving speech and look, Your first and free intent withstand. R. M. MUnes. Why not believe the homely letter That all you give will God restore ? The poor man may deserve it better, And surely, surely wants it more ; CHASTITY - CHEERFULNESS. 6& Let but the rich man do hie> part, And whatsoe'er the issue be, To those who nsk, his answering heart Will gain anil grow in sympathy. R. M. Milnes. Then ger.tly scan your brother man, Still gentler sister woman, s. ITiough both may gang a kennie wrang, To step aside is human. Burns. Cast not the clouded gem away., Quench not the dim but living ray — My brother man, beware ! With that deep voice, which from the skies, Forbade the Patriarch's sacrifice, God's angel cries, Forbear Whittier. Still to a stricken brother true, Whatever clime hath nurtur'd him ; He stoop'd to heal the wounded Jew, The worshipper of Gerizim. But by all thy nature's weakness, Hidden faults and follies known, e thou, in rebuking evil, Conscious of thine own. And when religious sects ran mad, He held, in spite of all his learning, That if a man's belief is bad, It will not be improv'd by burning. As the rivers, farthest flowing, In the highest hills have birth; As the banyan, broadest growing, Oftcncst bows its head to earth, — Bo the noblest minds press onward, Channels far of good to trace ; So the largest hearts bend downward, Circling all the human race. Whittier. Whittier Praed. Mrs. Hale. CHASTITY. The summer's flower is to the summer sweet, Though to itself it only live and die ; But if that flower with base infection meet, The basest weed outbraves his dignity ; For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds ; Lilies that fester, smell far worse than weeds. Shakspeare, Chaste as the icicle That's ourdled by the frost of purest snow, And liar gs on Dian's temple. Sliakspeare. E Thou, my love, art sweeter far than balmy Incense in the purple smoke ; pure and Unspotted as the cleanly ermine, ere The hunter sullies her with his pursuit ; Soft as her skin ; chaste as th' Arabian bird That wants a sex to woo, or as the dead, That are divorc'd from warmth, from objects, And from thought. Sir W. DavenanVs Platonic Loiters. So dear to heav'n is saintly chastity, That when a soul is found sincerely so, A thousand liv'ry'd angels lackey her, Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt. Milton's Comus. Oh ! she is colder than the mountain's snow. To such a subtile purity she 's wrought, She 's pray'd and fasted to a walking thought : She's an enchanted feast, most fair to sight, And starves the appetite she does invite ; Flies from the touch of sense, and if you dare To name but love she vanishes to air. Crown's Destruction of Jerusalem, In thy fair brow there 's such a legend writ Of chastity, as blinds the adulterous eye : Not the mountain ice, , Congeal'd to crystals, is so frosty chaste, As thy victorious soul, which conquers man, And man's proud tyrant-passion. Dryderi's Albion and Albanus. 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 art her guilt to cover, And hide her shame from every eye, And give repentance to her lover, And wring his bosom is — to die. Goldsmith. Beneath the cares of earth she does not bow, Though she hath ofttimes drain'd its bitter cup; But ever wariders on with heavenward brow, And eyes whose lovely orbs are lifted up ! Mrs. Welly. CHEERFULNESS. And her against sweet cheerfulness was planed, Whose eyes like twinkling stars in evening clesu Were deck't with smyles, that all sad humoum chased, And darted forth delights, the which her goodly graced. Spenser's Fairy Queen- Cheerful looks make every dish a feast. And 't is that c owns a welcome, 6* Massing^ m CHILDHOOD AND CHILDREN. : Let mc play the fool : With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come ; And let my liver rather heat with wine, Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. Why should a man whose hlood is warm within, Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster? Sleep when he wakes ? and creep into the jaundice By being peevish ? Shahs. Merchant of Venice. What then remains but well our power to use, And keep good humour still, whate'er we lose ? And trust me, dear, good humour can prevail, When airs, and flights, and screams, and scolding fail ; Beauties in vain their pretty eyes may roll ; Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul. Pope's Rape of the Loch Smooth flow the waves, the zephyrs gently play, Belinda smil'd and all the world was gay. Pope's Rape of the Lock. When cheerfulness, a nymph of healthiest hue, Her bow across her shoulders flung, Her buskins gemm'd with morning dew. Blew an inspiring air, that dale and thicket rung. Collins's Passions. Thus without share in coin or land, But well content to hold The wealth of nature in my hand, One flail of virgin gold, — My love above me like a sun, — My own bright thoughts my wings, — Through life I trust to flutter on As gay as aught that sings. R. M. Milnes. 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 day must darken into night ? Douglas Jer old's Magazine. A sweet heart-lifting cheerfulness, Li Ke spring-time of the year, Seem'd ever on her steps to wait. Mrs. Hale's Alice Ray. T/ie seasons all had cha.nns for her, — She wclcom'd each with joy; The charm that in her spirit liv'd No changes Ctrald destroy. Mrs. Hale. CHILDHOOD AND CHILDREN. Die whining schoolboy with his satchel, And shining morning face, creeping like snail I Willingly to school. , Shaks. As you like it. At first, the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. Shaks. As you like Behold, my lords, Although the print be little, the whole matter And copy of the father: eye, nose, lip, The trick of his frown, his forehead; nay, the valley, The pretty dimples of his chin, and cheek ; his smiles ; The very mould and frame of hand, nail, finger. Sliaks. Winter Tale. The royal tree hath left us royal fruit, Which, mellowed by the stealing hours of time, Will well become the seat of majesty, And make no doubt us happy by his reign Shaks. Richard III Hath he set bounds between their love and me ? I am their mother, who shall bar me from thcm'i Shaks. Richard III O 'tis a parlous boy; Bold, quick, ingenious, forward, capable ; He's all the mother's from the top to toe. Shaks. Richard III Look here upon thy brother Geffrey's face ; These eyes, these brows, were moulded out of his . This little abstract doth contain that large, Which died in Geffrey : and the hand of time, Shall draw this brief unto as large a volume. Shaks. King John, j Father Cardinal, I have heard you say, That we shall see and know our friends in heaven ! j If that be true, I shall see my boy again ; For since the birth of Cain, the first male-child, : To him that did but yesterday suspire. There was not such a gracious creature born. Shaks. King John. | O Lord, my boy, my Arthur, my fair son ; My life, my joy, my soul, my all the world ; My widow's comfort, and my sorrow's care. Shaks. King John, I The poor wren, The most diminutive of birds, will fight, The young ones in her nest against the owl. SJtaks. Macb Go, bind thou up yon dangling apricots, Which, like unruly children make their sire Stoop with oppression of their prodigal weight. Shaks. Richard. Children blessings seem, but torments are, When young our folly, and when old our fear Otway's Don Carlt • CD 1X1 D [U ED 00 © ® P CHILDHOOD AND CHILDREN. (17 Crying they creep among us like young cats. Cares and continual crosses keeping with them, They make time old to tend them, and experience An ass, they alter so ; they grow and goodly Ere we can turn our thoughts, like drops of water They fall into the main, are known no more. Beaumont and Fletcher's Mad Lover. What benefit can children be But charges and disobedience ? what 's the Love they render at one and twenty years ? I pray die, father : when they are young, they Are like bells rung backwards, nothing but noise And giddiness. Beaumont and Fletcher's Wit without Money. Look here and weep with tenderness and transport ! What is all tasteless luxury to this ? To these best joys, which holy love bestows ? Oh nature, parent nature, thou alone Art the true judge of what can make us happy. Thomson's Agamemnon. O what passions then, What melting sentiments of kindly care, On the new parents seize. Thomson's Seasons. Meantime a smiling offspring rises round, And mingles both their graces. By degrees, The human blossom blows ; and every day. Soft as it rolls along, shows some new charm, The father's lustre, and the mother's bloom. Thomson's Seasons. 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. Thanks to the gods, my boy has done his duty ! — Portius, when I am dead, be sure you place His urn near mine. Addison's Cato. Self-flattered, unexperienced, high in hope, When young, with sanguine cheer, and streamers We cut our cable, launch into the world, And fondly dream each wind and star our friend. Young's Night Thoughts. Why was my prayer accepted ? why did heav'n In anger hear me, when I ask'd a son ? Hannah More's Moses. Then gathering round his bed, they climb to share His kisses, and with gentle violence there, Break in upon a dream not half so fair. Rogers's Human Life. The hour arrives, the moment wish'd and fear'd ■ The child is born by many a pang cndear'd, And now the mother's car has caught his cry ; O grant the cherub to her asking eye ! He comes — she clasps him. To her bosom press'd He drinks the balm of life, and drops to rest. Rogers's Human Life. When heaven and angels, earth and earthly things Do leave the guilty in tli^ir guiltiness — A cherub's voice doth whisper in a child's There is a shrine within thy little heart Where I will hide, nor hear the trump of doom. Maturin's Bertram. Thou art my daughter — never lov'd as now — Thou mountain maid, — thou child of liberty ! Urilda ! Well from Uri's height I nam'd thee, Free as its breezes, — purer than its snows ! Maturin's Fredolfo. Lo ! at the couch where infant beauty sleeps, Her silent watch the mournful mother keeps ; She, while the lovely babe unconscious lies, Smiles on her slumbering child with pensive eyes, And weaves a song of melancholy joy — "Sleep, image of thy father, sleep my boy: No lingering hour of sorrow shall be thine ; No sigh that rends thy father's heart and mine ; Bright as his manly sire, the sun shall be, In form and soul ; but ah ! more bless'd than he . Thy fame, thy worth, thy filial love, at last, Shall soothe his aching heart for all the past, With many a smile my solitude repay, And chase the world's ungenerous scorn away." Campbell's Pleasures of Hope. He smiles and sleeps ! — sleep on And smile, thou little young inheritor Of a world scarce less young : sleep on and smile ! Thine are the hours and days when both are cheering And innocent Byron's Cain. Look ! how he laughs and stretches out his arms, And opens wide his blue eyes upon thine, To hail his father; while his little form Flutters as wing'd with joy. Talk not of pain ! The childless cherubs well might envy thee The pleasures of a parent ! Bless him, Cain ! As yet he hath no words to thank thee, but His heart will, and thine too. Byron's Cain Sweet be thy cradled slumbers ! O'er the sea, And from the mountains where I now respiro Fain would I waft such blessing upon thee, As, with a sigh, I deem thou might'st have been to me. Byron's Childe Harold OS CHILDHOOD. To aid thy mind's development — to watch Thy dawn of little joys — to sit and see Almost thy very growth — to view thee catch Knowledge of objects— wonders yet to thee ! To hold thee lightly on a gentle knee, And print on thy soft check a parent's kiss — This, it should seem, was not rcserv'd for me ! Yet this was in my nature : — as it is, I know not what is there, yet something- like to this. Byron's Childe Harold. Bat thou wilt burst this transient sleep, And thou wilt wake, my babe, to weep ; The tenant of a frail abode, Thy tears must flow as mine have flow'd : Beguil'd by follies every day, Sorrow must wash the faults away, And thou may'st wake, perchance to prove The pang of unrequited love. Byron to his Daughter. Yet a fine family is a fine thing, (Provided they don't come in after dinner;) 'Tis beautiful to see a matron bring Hor children up (if nursing them don't thin her.) Byron's Don Juan. Heaven lies about us in our infancy. Wordsworth. The young ! Oh, what should wondering fane}' bring, In life's first spring-time, but the thought of spring ! Mrs. Norton. And thou, my boy ! that silent at my knee Dost lift to mine thy soft, dark, earnest eyes, Fill'd with the love of childhood. — Mine own ! whose feelings fresh before me rise ; Is it, not much that I may guide thy prayer, And circle thy glad soul with free and healthful air ? Mrs. Hemans. Thou art looking now at the birds, Genie, But oh, do not wish their wing ; / That would tempt the fowler, Genie, — Stay thou on earth and sing. Stay in the nursing nest, Genie, Be not soon thence beguil'd ; Thou wilt ne'er find a second, Genie, Never be twice a child. Miss Jewsbury. Oh ! dear to memory are those hours When every pathway led to flowers; When sticks of peppermint posscss'd A sceptre's power to sway the breast, And heaven was round us while we fed • >n rich ambrosial gingerbread. Eliza Cook --Slow pass our days in childhood, — Kvery day seems like a century. / Bryant. Ah ! well may sages bow to thee, Dear, loving, guileless Infancy ! And sigh beside their lofty lore For one untaught delight of thine, And feel they 'd give their learning's store To know again thy truth divine. Mrs. Osgood, 'Tis the work Or many a dark hour, and of many a prayer To bring the heart back from an infant gone. . Willis. The history of Paradise To Woman's faith is clear, For happy childhood ever brings The Eden vision near ; The vision when the earth was sway'd By Innocence and Love, That summon'd with an equal trust The tiger or the dove. Mrs. Hale. 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. Well} 'Tis aye a solemn thing to me To look upon a babe that sleeps — ■ Wearing in its spirit-deeps The unrevealcd mystery Of its Adam's taint and woe, Which, when they revealed lie, Will not let it slumber so. Miss Barrett. And yet we check and chide The airy angels as they float about us, With rules of so-call'd wisdom, till they grow The same tame slaves to custom and the world. Mrs. Osgood I know he's coming by this sign, That baby 's almost wild ; See how he laughs and crows and starts — Heaven bless the merry child ! He 's father's self in face and limb, And father's heart is strong in him. Shout, baby, shout ! and clap thy hands, For father on the threshold stands. Mary HowilU Of all the joys that brighten suffering earth, What joy is welcom'd like a new-born child! Mrs. Notion. Sleep, little baby ! sleep ! Not in thy cradle bed, Not on thy mother's breast — But with the quiet dead. Mrs. Southey ett. CHOICE -CHURCH. oy CHOICE. A wise man likes that best, that is itself; N A that which only seems, though it look fairer. Middlelon's Widow. When better cherries are not to be had, We needs must take the seeming best of bad. Daniel. Now this he tastes, then that he glances on, Diversity confounds election. Baron. Election is an act Of will, not voice ; of an internal suffrage, Not outward sound. Tragedy of Cicero. So much to win, so much to lose, No marvel that I fear to choose. Miss London . Think not too meanly of thy low estate ; Thou hast a choice ; to choose is to create ! Remember whose the sacred lips that tell, Angels approve thee when thy choice is well ; Use well the freedom which thy Master gave. O. W. Holmes. CHURCH. To kirk the nar, to God more far, Has been an old said saw; And he that strives to touch a star, Oft stumbles at a straw. Spenser's Shepherd's Calendar. You rais'd these hallow'd w T alls ; the desert smil'd, And paradise was open'd in the wild. No weeping orphan saw his father'., stores, Our shrines irradiate, or emblaze the floors ; No silver saints by dying misers given, Here bribe the rage of ill requited heaven ; But such plain roofs as piety could raise, And only vocal with the maker's praise. Pope's Eloisa to Ahelard. Here some are thinkin' on their sins, An' some upo' their claes ; Ane curses feet that fyl'd his shins, Anither sighs an' prays : On this hand sits a chosen swatch, Wi' screw'd up, grace-proud faces : On that, a set o' chaps at watch, Thrang winkin' on the Burns. Why should we crave a hallow'd spot < An altar is in each man's cot, A church in every grove that spreads Its living roof above our heads. Wordsworth. What is a church ? — Our honest sexton tells 'T is a tall building, with a tower and bells. Crabbe'8 Borough. — Piety first laid A strong foundation, but she wanted aid ; To wealth unwieldy was her prayer address'd, Who largely gave. Vralbe The perfect world, by Adam trod, Was the first Temple — built by God — His fiat laid the corner-stone, And heaved its pillars, one by one. Willis. On other shores, above their mould'ring towns, In sullen pomp the tall cathedral frowns, Pride in its aisles, and paupers at the door, Which feeds the beggars whom it fleeced of yore, Simple and frail, our lowly Temples throw Their slender shadows on the paths below ; Scarce steal the winds, that sweep his woodland tracks, The larch's perfume from the settler's axe, Ere, like a vision of the morning air, His slight framed steeple marks the house of prayer ! O. W. Holmes But when the sabbath gatherings press, Like armies from the wilderness, 'T is then the dim, old woods afford The sanctuary of the Lord : The Holy Spirit breathes around — That forest glade is sacred ground, Nor Temple built with hands could vie In glory with its majesty. The trees, like living columns rise, Whose tops sustain the bending skies ; And o'er those earnest worshippers God's love, like holy roof is spread, And every leaf the zephyr stirs Some heavenly promise seems to shed. Mrs. Hale. Look on this edifice of marble made — How fair it swells too beautiful to fade. See what fine people in its portals crowd, Smiling and greeting, talking, laughing loud ! What is it ! Surely not a gay Exchange Where Wit and Beauty social joys arrange, Not a grand shop where late Parisian styles Attract rich buyers from a thousand miles ? But step within : no need of further search, Behold, admire a fashionable church ! Look how its oriel window glints and gleams., What tinted light magnificently streams On the proud pulpit, carved with quaint devico Where velvet cushions exquisitely nice, Press'd by the polish'd preacher's dainty *iaud« Hold a large volume clasp'd by golden bands Park Ben,amxn 70 CLERGY AND CHURCHMEN. CLERGY AND CHURCHMEN. Cut if thee list unto the court to throng, And there to hunt after the hoped prey, Then must thou thee dispose another way; For there thou needs must learn to laugh, to lie, To face, to forge, to scoff to company, To cranch, to please to be a beetle-stock Of thy great master's will, to scorn, to mock ; So maist thou chance mark out a benefice, Unless thou canst one conjure by device, Or cast a figure for a bishoprick ; And if one could, it were but a school trick. These be the ways by which without reward, Livings in courts be gotten, though full hard. Spenser's Mother Hubbard's Tale. Their sheep have crusts, and they the bread ; The chips and they the cheer : They have the fleece, and eke the flesh, (O seely sheep the while !) The corn is theirs — let others thresh, Their hands they may not file. Spenser's Shepherd's Calendar. Schoolmen must war with schoolmen, text with text; The first 's the Chaldee's paraphrase ; the next Tr.e Septungint's : opinion thwarts opinion; The Papist holds then the first, th' last th' Ar- minian; And then the councils must be call'd t' advise, What this of Lat'ran says, what that of Nice. F. Quarles. Free will 's disputed, consubstantiation, And the deep ocean of predestination, Where, daring venture oft too far into 't, They, Pharaoh like, are drown'd both horse and foot. F. Quarks. My trade is a fine, easy, gainful cheat; /low easy 'tis saintship to counterfeit, And pleasing fables to invent and spread, And lbols ne'er find the cheat till they are dead. Crown's English Friar. Make not the church to us an instrument Of bondage, to yourselves of liberty : Obedience there confirms your government , Our sovereigns, God's subalterns, you be. Lord Brooks's Alaliam. It never was a prosperous world Since priests have interfer'd with temporal matters ; The custom of their ancestors they slight, And change their shirts of hair for robes of gold; "J 'bus luxury and interest rule the church, WbiR piety and conscience dwell in caves. Bancroft's Fall of Mortimer. Hood an ass with rev'rend purple, So you can hide his two ambitious ears, And he shall pass for a cathedral doctor. Jon8on'8 Volponi Love and meekness, lord, Become a churchman better than ambition : Win straying souls with modesty again, Cast none away. Shahs. Henry VIII But you misuse the reverence of your place ; Employ the countenance and grace of heaven, As a favourite doth his prince's name In deeds dishonourable. Shaks. 2d pari of Henry IV 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. Sliaks. Hamlet Babble on, ye priests, amuse mankind With idle tales of flames and torturing fiends, And starry crowns, for patient sufferings here : Yes, gull the crowd, and gain their earthly goods, For feign'd reversions in a heavenly state. W. Shirley's Parricide Then might you see Cowls, hoods, and habits with their wearers tost And fluttcr'd into rags ; then reliques, beads, Indulgences, dispenses, pardons, bulls, The sport of winds ; all these upwhirl'd aloft Fly to the rearward of the world far off Into a limbo large and broad, since call'd The paradise of fools. Milton's Paradise Lost. Embryos and idiots, eremites and friars, White, black, and grey, with all their trumpery. Milton's Paradise Lost Wolves shall succeed for teachers, grievous wolves, Who all the sacred mysteries of heaven To their own vile advantages shall turn, Of lucre and ambition, and the truth With superstitions and traditions taint. Milton's Paradise Lost. Then shall they seek to avail themselves of names, Places, and titles, and with these to join Secular power, though feigning still to act By spiritual, to themselves appropriating The spirit of God, prouiis'd alike and given To all believers ; and from that pretense, Spiritual laws by carnal pow'r shall force On every conscience ; laws which none shall find Left them cnroll'd, or what the spirit within Shall on the heart engrave. Milton's Paradise Lost CLERGY AND CHURCHMEN. 71 For this the clergy will still argue on, Deny for pique, assert from prejudice ; Show us the lesson, seldom the example, And preach up laws which they will ne'er obey. Hazard's King Charles I. He could raise scruples dark and nice, \nd after solve 'cm in a trice ; As if divinity had catch'd The itch on purpose to be scratch'd. Butler's Hudibras But preaching- was his chiefest talent, Or argument, in which being valiant, He us'd to lay about and stickle, Like ram or bull at conventicle ; For disputants, like rams and bulls, Do fight with arms that spring from skulls. Butler's Hudibras. Denounc'd and pray'd, with fierce devotion, And bended elbows on the cushion ; Stole from the beggars all their tones, And gifted mortifying groans : Had lights where better eyes were blind, As pigs are said to see the wind. Butler's Hudibras. For he was of that stubborn crew, O p errant saints, whom all men grant To be the true church militant ; Such as do build their faith upon The holy text of pike and gun ; Decide all controversies by Infallible artillery ; And prove their doctrine orthodox By aptetolic blows and knocks. Butler's Hudibras. What makes a church a den of thieves ? A dean and chapter, and white sleeves. Butler's Hudibras. Is't not ridiculous, and nonsense, A saint should be a slave to conscience, That ought to be above such fancies, As far as above ordinances ? Butler's Hudbiras. The godly may allege, For any thing their privilege ; And to the devil himself may go, If they have motives thereunto, For, as there is a war between The devil and them, it is no sin, If they by subtle stratagem Make use of him, as he does them. Butler's Hudibras. For saints may do the same things by The spirit, in sincerity, Which other men are tempted to, And at the devil's instance do ; And yet the actions be contrary, Just as the saints and wicked vary. Butler's Hudibras You want to lead My reason blindfold like a hamper'd lion, Check'd of his noble vigour: then, when baited Down to obedient tameness, may it couch, And show strange tricks, which you call signs of faith : So silly souls are gull'd, and you get money ! Otway's Venice Preserved. Is not the care of souls a load sufficient ? Are not your holy stipends paid for this ? Were you not bred apart from worldly noise To study souls, their cures, and their diseases ? The province of the soul is large enough To fill up every cranny of your time, And leave you much to answer, if one wretch Be damn'd by your neglect Dry den's Don Sebastian. I tell thee, Mufti, if the world were wise, They would not wag one finger in thy quarrels : Your heav'n you promise, but our earth you covet : The Phaetons of mankind, who fire that world Which you were sent, by preaching but to warm. Dry den's Don Sebastian. Bloated with ambition, pride and avarice, You swell to counsel kings and govern kingdoms. Content you with monopolizing heav'n, And let this little hanging ball alone : For give you but a foot of conscience there, And you, like Archimedes, top the globe. Dry den's Don Sebastian. I met a reverend, fat, old, gouty friar, With a paunch swoll'n so high, his double chin Might rest upon 't : a true son of the church ! Fresh-colour'd and well-thriving on his trade. Dryden's Spanish Fair. Priesthood, that makes a merchandise of Heav'n ! Priesthood, that sells ev'n to their pray'rs and blessings, And force us to pay for our own cos'nage. Dryden's Troilus and Cressida. 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,) For this by rules severe his life he squar'd • That all might see the doctrine which they heard Dryden's Character of a Good Fart>itr. A fox, full fraught with seeming sanctity, That fear'd an oath, but like the devil would !>o Who look'd like lent, and had the holy leer, And durst not sin before he sa/d his prayer. Dryd-e* ?2 CLERGY AND CHURCHMEN. IDs talk was now of tythcs and dues ; He smok'd his pipe, and read the news ; Knew how to preach old sermons next, Vamp'd in the preface and the text ; At christenings well could act his part, And had the service all by heart; Wish'd women might have children fast, Aid thought whose sow had farrow'd last ; Against dissenters would repine, And stood up firm for right divine ; Found his head fill'd with many a system, But classic authors — he ne'er miss'd 'em. Spiffs Baucis and Philemon. If such dinners you give, You '11 ne'er want for parsons as long as you live : I ne'er knew a parson without a good nose, But the devil's as welcome wherever he goes. Swift. Why seek we truth from priests ? The smiles of courtiers, and the harlot's tears, The tradesman's cath, and mourning of an heir, Are truths to what priests tell ! Oh why has priesthood privilege to lie ! And yet to be believed ? Zee's (Edipus. If we must pray, Rear in the streets bright altars to the gods, Let virgin's hands adorn the sacrifice ; And not a grey-beard forging priest come here, To pry into the bowels of their victim, And with their dotage mad the gaping world. Lee's (Edipus. Ill befall Such meddl'-.ig priests, wh_ kindle up confusion, And vex the quiet world with their vain scruples ; Byheav'n 'tis done in perfect spite of peace. Rome's Jane Shore. Others of graver mien, behold, adorn'd With holy ensigns, how sublime they move, And bending oft their sanctimonious eyes, Take homage of the simple-minded throng ; Ambassadors of heaven ! Akenside's Pleasures of Imagination. i»car yonder copse, where once the garden smil'd, And still where many a garden flower grows wild, There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, The village preacher's modest mansion rose. A man he was to all the country dear, And passing rich with forty pounds a year ; Remote from towns he ran his godly race, N T or e'er had chang'd nor wish'd to change his place; Unskilful he to fawn, or seek for power, By doctrines fashion'd to the varying hour ; l';ir other aims his heart had learn'd to prize, More bent to raise the wretched than to rise. Goldsmith's Deserted Village. 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 Deseiied Village Ev'n children followed with endearing wile And pluck'd his gown to share the good man's smile. Goldsmith's Deserted Village. Or prophecy, which dreams a lie, That fools believe, and knaves apply. Green's Grotto. Of right and wrong he taught Truths as refined as ever Athens heard ; And (strange to tell!) he practised what he preach'd. Armstrong's Art of Preserving Health, The royal letters are a thing of course, A king, that would, might recommend his horse ; And deans, no doubt, and chapters with one voice, As bound in duty, would confirm the choice. Behold your bishop ! — well he plays his part, Christian in name, and infidel in heart, Ghostly in office, earthly in his plan, A slave at court, elsewhere a lady's man. Dumb as a senator, and as a priest; A piece of mere church-furniture at best Coicper's Tirocinium Your lordship and your grace, what schools can teach A rhetoric equal to those parts of speech ? What need of Homer's verse, or Tully's prose, Sweet interjections ! if he learn but those : Let reverend churls his ignorance rebuke Who starve upon a dog's-ear'd Pentateuch, The parson knows enough who knows a duke. Coicper's Tirocinium. In man or woman, but far most in man, And most of all in man that ministers And serves the altar, in my soul I loathe All affectation. 'Tis my perfect scorn; Object of my implacable disgust. Coicper's Task Behold the picture ! Is it like ? Like whom ? The things that mount the rostrum with a skip Aid then skip down again. Pronounce a text, Cry hem ; and reading what they never wrote, Just fifteen minutes huddle up their work, And with a well-bred whisper close the scene. Coicper's Task From such apostles, oh ye mitred heads, Preserve the church ; and lay not careless hands On skulls that cannot teach, and will not learn. Cowper's Task CHURCH-YARD. 73 I vener»te the man whose heart is warm, Whose hands are pure, whose doctrine and whose life Coincident, exhibit lucid proof That he is honest in the sacred cause. Cowper's Task. He that negotiates between God and man, As God's ambassador, the grand concerns Of judgment and of mercy, should beware Of lightness in his speech. "Tis pitiful To court a grin, when you should woo a soul ; To break a jest, when pity would inspire Pathetic exhortation ; and address The skittish fancy with facetious tales, When sent with God's commission to the heart. Cowper's Task. Church ladders are not always mounted best, By learned clerks, and Latinists profess'd Coioper. Learn three-mile pray'rs, an' half-mile graces, Wi' weel-spread looves, an' lang, vrty faces ; Grunt up a solemn, lengthen'd groan, And damn a' parties but your own ; I '11 warrant then ye 're nae deceiver, A steady, sturdy, staunch believer. Burns. Hear how he clears the points o' faith Wi' rattlin an' thumpin ! Now meekly calm, now wild in wrath, He 's stampin, an' he 's jumpin ! Burns's Holy Friar. Haughty of heart and brow the warrior came, In look and language proud as proud could be, Vaunting his lordship, lineage, fights and fame ; Yet was that bare-foot monk more proud than he. ScoWs Vision of Don Roderick. Such vast impressions did his sermons make, He always kept his flock awake. Dr. WolcoVs Peter Pindar. In short, no dray-horse ever work'd so hard, From vaults to drag up hogshead, tun, or pipe, As this good priest, to drag, for small reward, The souls of sinners from the devil's gripe.- Dr. Wolcot's Peter Pindar. Did gentlemen of fortune die, And leave the church a good round sum ; Lo ! in the twinkling of an eye, The parson frank'd their souls to kingdom come. Dr. Wolcofs Peter Pindar. Whate'er I^may have been, or am, doth rest between Heaven and myself — I shall not choose a mortal To be my mediator. Byron's Manfred. Around his form his loose long robe was thrown , And wrapp'd a breast bestow'd on heaven alone. Byron's Corsair. Father! thy days hare pass'd in peace, 'Mid counted beads, and countless prayer. To bid the sins of others cease, Thyself without a crime or care, Save transient ills that all must bear, Has been thy lot, from youth to age. Byron's Giaour. Dark and unearthly is the scowl, That glares beneath his dusky cowl — The flash of that dilating eye Reveals too much of times gone by. Byron's Giaour. But the unfaithful Priest, what tongue Enough shall execrate ? Pollock. " What is a Church ?" Let truth and reason speak ; They should reply — "The faithful, pure, and meek, From Christian folds, the one selected race, Of all professions, and of every place." Crabbe I like a church, I like a cowl, I love a prophet of the soul, And on my heart monastic aisles Fall like sweet strains or pensive smiles, Yet not for all his faith can see, Would I that cowled churchman be. Ralph Waldo Emerson. By the white neck-cloth, with its straiten'd tie, The sober hat, the Sabbath-speaking eye, Severe and smileless, he that runs may read The stern disciple of Geneva's creed. O. W. Holmes. A livelier bearing of the outward man, The light-hued gloves, the undevout rattan, Now smartly rais'd or half-profanely twirl'd, — A bright, fresh twinkle from the week-day world,- ■ Tell their plain story; — yes, thine eyes behold A cheerful Christian from the liberal fold. O. W. Holmes CHURCH-YARD. The solitary, silent, solemn scene, Where Caesars, heroes, peasants, hermits lie, Blended in dust together; where the slave Rests from his labours ; where th' insulting prouo Resigns his power, the miser drops his board. Where human folly sleeps. Dyer's Ruins of Rom* M CIRCUMVENTION -CIGAR- CITY AND CITIZENS. StraDge thing?, the neighbours say, have happen'd there : Wild shrieks have issued from the hollow tombs, Dead men have come again, and walk'd about; And the great bell has toll'd unrung, untouch'd. Sucli tales their cheer at wake or gossipping, When it draws near to 'witching time of night. Blair's Grave. 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. What to us the grave ? It brings no real homily ! we sigh, Pause for awhile 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. In dim cathedrals, dark with vaulted gloom, What holy awe invests the sacred tomb ! There pride will bow, and anxious care expand, And creeping avarice come with open hand ; The gay can weep, the impious can adore, From morn's first glimmerings on the chancel floor Till dying sunset shed his crimson stains Through the faint halos of the iris'd panes. O. W. Holmes. Yet there are graves, whose rudely shapen sod Bears the fresh footprints where the sexton trod ; Graves where the verdure has not dar'd to shoot, Where the chance wildflower has not fix'd its root, Whose slumbering tenants, dead without a name, The eternal record shall at length proclaim Pure as the holiest in the long array Of hooded, mitred, or tiara'd clay ! O. W. Holmes. CIRCUMVENTION. They must sweep my way, And marshal me to knavery : Let it work — For 'tis the sport, to have the engineer Hoist with his own petard; and't shall go hard, But I will delve one yard below their mines, And blow them at the moon. Shahs. Hamlet, Thib work requires long time, dissembling looks, Comrnixt with undermining actions, Watching advantages to execute Our foes are mighty, and their number great, It tnerefore follows that our stratagems Must branch forth into manifold deceits, Kndless devices, bottomless conclusions. Cliapman's Alplwnsus, Bear your wrongs conceal'd, • And patient as the tortoise ; let this camel Stalk o'er your back unbruis'd : sleep with lion, And let this brood of secure foolish mice Play with your nostrils, till the time be ripe For the bloody audit, and the fatal gripe : Aim like a cunning fowler, close one eye, That you the better may your game espy. Webster's White CIGAR. — (See Smoking.) CITY AND CITIZENS. These base mechanics never keep their words In any thing they promise. 'T is their trade To swear and break ; they all grow rich by breaking More than their words ; their honesties and credits, Are still the first commodities they put off. Jonson's New Inn. Indeed all our chief living, is by fools And knaves ; we could not keep open shop else : Fools that enter into bands, and knaves bind them. Middleton's Phoenix. The fawning citizen, whose love's bought dearest, Deceives his brother when the sun shines clearest, Gets, borrows, breaks, lets in and stops out light, And lives a knave, to leave his son a knight. Brown's Pastorals. Take heed what you say, sir. An hundred honest men ! why, if there were So many i' th' city, 'twere enough to forfeit Their charter. Shirley's Gamester So merchant has his house in town, And country-seat near Banstead down : From one he dates his foreign letters, Sends out his goods, and duns his debtors ; In t' other, at his hours of leisure, He smokes his pipe, and takes his pleasure. Prior's Alma. Religious, punctual, frugal, and so forth ; His word would pass for more than he was worth. One solid dish his week-day meal affords, And added pudding solemniz'd the Lord's; Constant at church and 'change, his gains were sure, His givings rare, save farthings to the poor. Pope's Moral Essays. Or at some banker's desk, like many more, Content to tell that two and two make four, His name had stood in city annals fair, And prudent dulness mark'd him for a mayor. ChurchilVe Rosciad CLOUDS. 75 The cit — a common councilman by place, Ten thousand mighty nothings in his face, By situation as by nature great, With nice precision parcels out the state ; Proves and disproves, affirms and then denies, Objects himself, and to himself replies : Wielding aloft the politician's rod, Makes Pitt by turns a devil and a god : Maintains ev'n to the very teeth of pow'r, The same tiling right and wrong in half an hour, , Now all is well, now he suspects a plot, And plainly proves whatever is — is not : Fearfully wise, he shakes his empty head, And deals out empires as he deals out thread; His useless scales are in a corner flung, And Europe's balance hangs upon his tongue. Churchill's Rosciad. Suburban villas, highway-side retreats, That dread th' encroachment of our growing streets, Tight boxes, neatly sash'd, and in a blaze With all a July's sun's collected rays, Delight the citizen, who gasping there Breathes clouds of dust, and calls it country air. Cowper's Retirement. I dwell amid the city, And hear the flow of souls ! I do not hear the several contraries I do not hear the separate tone that rolls In art or speech. For pomp or trade, for merrymake or folly, I hear the confluence and sum of each, And that is melancholy ! — Thy voice is a complaint, O crowned city, The blue sky covering thee, like God's great pity. Miss Barrett. Come out, love — the night is enchanting ! The moon hangs just over Broadway ; The stars are all lighted and panting — (Hot weather up there, I dare say !) 'T is seldom that " coolness" entices, And love is no better for chilling — Yet come up to Thompson's for ices And cool your warm heart for a shilling! N. P. Willis. Flow tenderly Rousseau review'd His periwinkles ! Mine are stew'd ! My rose blooms on a gown ! I hunt in vain for eglantine, Ajid find my blue-bell on the sign That marks the Bell and Crown 1 Hood. Where are ye, linnet ! lark ! and thrush ! That perch on leafy bough and bush, And tune the various song ? Two hurdy-gurdies, and a poor Street-Handel grinding at my dcor, Are all my " tuneful throng." Hood CLOUDS. The clouds were touch'd, And in their silent faces could be read Unutterable love. Wordsworth The clouds that gather round the setting sun Do take a sober colouring from an eye That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality. Wordsworth There 's not a cloud in that blue plain, But tells of storms to come or past ; — Here, flying loosely as the mane Of a young war-horse in the blast ; — There, roll'd in masses dark and swelling As proud to be the thunder's dwelling. Moore. The clouds consign their treasure to the fields, And, softly shaking on the dimpled pool Prelusive drops, let all their moisture flow, In large effusion o'er a freshen'd world. Thomson That cloud was beautiful, — was one Among a thousand round the sun : The thousand shared the common lot ; They came, — they went, — they were forgot ; This fairy form alone impress'd Its perfect image in my breast, And shines as richly blazon'd there As in its element of air. J. Montgomery Now a cloud,, Massive and black, strides up ; the angry gieam Of the red lightning cleaves the frowning folds. Street's Poems Wafted up, The stealing cloud with soft grey blinds the sky And in its vapory mantle onward steps The summer shower. Street's Pocm» Ye clouds, that are the ornament of heaven , Who give to it its gayest shadowings And its most awful glories ; ye who roll In the dark tempest, or at dewy evening Bow low in tcnderest beauty ; — ye are to o» A volume full of wisdom. PercivaVs Poema COMET-COMFORT-COMMONWEALTII-COMPANY-COMPASSION. COMET. Lo! from the dreud immensity of space Returning, with accelerated course, The rushing comet to the sun descends : And as he sinks below the shading earth, With awful train projected o'er the heavens, The guilty nations tremble. Thomson's Seasons. Hast thou ne'er seen the comet's flaming flight ? Th' illustrious stranger passing, terror sheds On gazing nations, from his fiery train Of length enormous, takes his ample round Through depths of ether ; coasts unnumber'd worlds, Of more than solar glory; doubles wicte Heaven's mighty cape ; and then revisits earth, From the long travel of a thousand years. Young's Night Thoughts. Lone traveller through the fields of air, What may thy presence here portend? Art come to greet the planets fan - , As friend greets friend ? Whate'er thy purpose, thou dost teach Some lessons to the humble soul ; Though far and dim thy pathway reach, Yet still thy goal Tends to the fountain of that light From whence thy golden beams are won ; So should we turn, from earth's dark night, To God our sun. Mrs. Hale's Poems. COMFORT. What is comfort, When the poor patient's heart is past relief? It is no doctor's art can cure my grief Middleton. There is a heaven yet to rest my soul on In midst of all unhappiness, which I look on With the same comfort, as a distress'd seaman A far off views the coast he would enjoy, When yet the ^ca3 do toss his reeling bark, 'Twixt hope and danger. Shirley's Maid's Revenge. How can your griefs Rxpect comfort from him, who knows not how Me can redress his own? Sir W. Davcnani s Unfortunate Lover. For in a dearth of comforts, we are taught To be contented with the least. Sir W. Daveimnt's Fair Favourite. So dying men receive vain comforts From those visitants they love, when they Persuade them to be patient at the loss of life, With saying they are mortal too, and mean T' endure the like calamity ; as if To die were from good fellowship, from free Intent t' accompany departing friends, When such last courtesy proceeds not from Their will, but nature's obstinate decree. Sir W. Davenani's Fair Favourite. Your comforts Come as in draughts the elemental dew Does on the earth ; it wets, but leaves no moisture To give the sear'd plants growth. Clapthorne's AlberLus Wallenstein. Comfort cannot soothe The heart whose life is centred in the thought Of happy loves, once known, and still in hope, Living with a consuming energy. Percival. And should thy comfort with my efforts cease, And only then — perpetual is thy peace. Crabbe. It is a little thing to speak a phrase Of common comfort, which by daily use Has almost lost its sense ; yet on the ear Of him who thought to die unmourn'd 't will fall Like choicest music. Talfourd. COMMONWEALTH. We will renew the times of truth and justice, Condensing in a fair free commonwealth Not rash equality, but equal rights, Proportion'd like the columns of the temple. Giving and taking strength reciproca., And making firm the whole with grace and beauty, So that no part could be removed without Infringement of the general symmetry. Byron's Doge of Venice. COMPANY.— (See Society.) COxMPASSION. — (See Mercy.) COMPLAINT. To tell thy mis'rics will no comfort breed ; Men help thee most, that think thou hast no need; But if the world once thy nrisfortijies know, Thou soon shalt lose a friend and find a foe. Randolph. COMPLIMEXTS-COXCEALMENT-CONCEIT-COXFIDEXCE-CONSCIENCE. 77 O say, why age, and grief, and pain, Shall long to go, but long in vain ; Why vice is left to mock at time, And, grey in years, grow grey in crime ; While youth, that every eye makes glad, And beauty, all in radiance clad, And goodness, cheering every heart, Come, but come only to depart ; Sunbeams, to cheer life's wintry day — Sunbeams, to flash, then fade away. Sprague. Come, now again thy woes impart, Tell all thy sorrows, all thy sin ; We cannot heal the throbbing heart, Till we discern the wounds within. Crabbe. And is there none with me to share The glories of the earth and sky ? The eagle through the pathless air Is follow'd by one burning eye. O. W. Holmes. COMPLIMENTS. Banish all compliments, but single truth, From ev'ry tongue, and ev'ry shepherd's heart, Let them use still persuading, but no art. Beaumont and Fletcher's Faithful Shepherdess. Treachery oft lurks In compliments. You have sent so many posts Of undertakings, they outride performance ; And make me think your fair pretences aim At some intended ill, which my prevention Must strive to avert. NabVs Tottenham Court. Marry, their wits were not so changeable As their faces, and having but one suit Of compliment, and that not unfashionable, They were fain to supply it with legs and silence. Killegrew's Conspiracy. When stranger stranger met upon the way, First, each to each bow'd most respectfully, And large profession made of humble service, And then the stranger took the other's purse, And he that stabb'd his neighbour to the heart, Stabb'd him politely, and return'd the blade Reeking into its sheath with graceful air. Pollock. CONCEALMENT.— (See Secrest.) CONCEIT. Conceit in weakest bodies, strongest works. Shahs. Hamlet. This self-conceit is a most dangerous shelf, Where many have made shipwreck unawares : He who doth trust too much unto himself, Can never fail to fall in many snares. Earl of StcrUne^s Crassus. A strong conceit is rich ; so most men deem : If not to be, 'tis comfort yet to seem. Marston's Antonio and Mellida. Drawn by conceit from reason's plan, How vain is that poor creature, man ! How pleas'd is ev'ry paltry elf To prate about that thing, himself. Churchill. CONFIDENCE. Set on your food ; And with a heart new fir'd I follow you, To do I know not what But it sufficeth, That Brutus leads me on. Shahs. Julius Casar I took him for the plainest harmless't creature, That breath'd upo» the earth, a Christian ; Made him my book, wherein my soul recorded The history of all my secret thoughts. Shahs. Richard III. Thou know'st how fearless is my trust in thee. Miss London, ' Trust in thee ?' Ay, dearest, there 's no one but must, Unless truth be a fable, in such as thee trust ! For who can see heaven's own hue in those eyes, And doubt that truth with it came down from the skies ; While each thought of thy bosom, like morning's young light, Almost ere 't is born, flashes there on his sight ! C. F. Hoffman. CONSCIENCE. The sweetest cordial we receive at last, Is conscience of our virtuous actions past. Gqffe's Orestes. Conscience ! Poor plodding priests and preaching friars make Their hollow pulpits ; and empty aisles Of churches ring with that round word ; but we That draw the subtile and more piercing air In that sublimed region of a court, Know all is good we make so, ami go on Secur'd by the prosperity of our enemies. Ben Jorson 7* CONSCIENCE. When tyrannizing pain shall stop The passage of thy breath, And thee compel to swear thyself True servant unto death : Then shall one virtuous deed impart More pleasure to thy mind, Than all the treasures that on earth, Ambitious thoughts can find. The well-spent time of one short day, One hour, one moment then, Shall be more sweet than all the joys Amongst us mortal men. Then shalt thou find but one refuge Which comfort can retain: A guiltless conscience pure and clear From touch of sinful stain. Brandorfs Octavia to Antonius. Consider all thy actions, and take heed On stolen bread, tho' it is sweet, to feed Sin, like a bee, unto thy hive may bring A little honey, but expect the sting. Thou may'st conceal thy sin by cunning art, But conscience sits a witness in thy heart; Which will disturb thy peace, thy rest undo, For that is witness, judge, and prison too. Watkins. Conscience is but a word that cowards use, Devis'd at first to keep the strong in awe. Shaks. Richard III. My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, And every tongue brings in a several tale, And every tale condemns me for a villain. Sliaks. Richard III, Oh — I have pass'd 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 : So full of dismal terror was the time. Sliaks. Richard III. O, Brackcnbury, I have done these things, That now give evidence against my soul. Sliaks. Richard HI. It is a dang'rous Tiling, it makes a man a coward : a man Cannot steal but it accuseth him ; a man Cannot swear, but it checks him. 'Tis a blushing shame-fae'd spirit, that Mutinies in a man's bosom ; it fills One full of obstacles. It made me once Restore a purse of gold, that by chance I round. It beggars any man that keeps it. It is turn'd out of towns and cities for A dang'rous thing ; and every man that means To live well, endeavours to trust to himself, And live without it Shaks. Richard III. Give me another horse, — bind uj^ ir/ v^ouiido, Have mercy, Jesu! — soft; — T did but dream. — O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict mo :— The lights burn blue. — It is now dead midnight Cold fearful drops stand on my fearful flesh. What do I fear? myself? Shaks. Richard Hi Suspicion haunts the guilty mind ; The thief doth fear each bush an officer. Shake. Henry VI. Part III What stronger breast-plate than a heart untainted 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. Shaks. Henry VI. Part II Their great guilt, Like poison given to work a great time after, Now 'gins to bite the spirits. Shaks. Tempest. O, it is monstrous ! — monstrous ! Methought, the billows spoke and told me of it ; The winds did sing it to me, and the thunder, That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronoune'd The name of Prosper. Sliaks. Tempest. Thus conscience does make cowards of us all , And thus the native hue of resolution Is sickly'd o'er with the pale cast of thought ; And enterprises of great pith and moment, With this regard, their currents turn away, And lose the name of action. Shaks. Hamlet. Leave her to heaven, And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge, To prick and sting her. Shaks. Hamlet. O, Hamlet, speak no more : Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul ; And there I see such black and grained spots, As will not leave their tinct. Sliaks. Hamlet, Foul whisp'rings are abroad ; and unnat'ral deeds Do breed unnat'ral troubles : infected minds To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets. Shaks. Macbeth. Better be with the dead, Whom we, to gain our place, have sent to peace, Than on the torture of the mind to lie In restless ecstacy. Shaks. Macbeth. The colour of the king doth come and go Between his purpose and his conscience, Like heralds 'twixt two dreadful battles set : His passion is so ripe, it needs must break. Shaks. King John CONSCIENCE. 79 I feel within me A. peace above all earthly dignities, A still and quiet conscience. Shake. Henry VIII. He that has light within his own dear breast, May sit i' th' centre, and enjoy bright day : But he that hides a dark soul, and foul thoughts, Denighted walks under the mid-day sun ; Himself is his own dungeon. Milton's Comus. But his doom Reserv'd him to more wrath ; for now the thought, Both of lost happiness and lasting pain, Torments him Milton's Paradise Lost. 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. conscience, into what abyss of fears And horrors hast thou driven me ; out of which 1 find no way, from deep to deeper plung'd. Milton's Paradise Lost. Why should not conscience have vacation As well as other courts o' th' nation ; Have equal power to adjourn, Appoint appearance and return. Butler's Hudibras. What's tender conscience? 'Tis a botch, That will not bear the gentlest touch ; But breaking out despatches more Than the epidemical'st plague-sore. Butler's Hudibras. Here, here it lies ; a lump of lead by day ; And in my short, distracted, nightly slumbers, The hag that rides my dreams. Dryden. '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. Mason's Elfrida. Some scruple rose, but thus he eas'd his thought, I '11 now give sixpenee where I gave a groat ; Where once I went to church I '11 now go twice, And am so clear too of all other vice. Pope's Moral Essays. See, from behind her secret stand, The sly informer minutes ev'ry fault, And her dread diary with horror fills. Young's Night Thoughts. Conscience, what art thou? thou tremendout power ! Who dost inhabit us without our leave ; And art within ourselves, another self, A master-self, that loves to domineer, And treat the monarch frankly as the slave : How dost thou light a torch to distant deeds ? Make the past, present, and the future frown ? How, ever and anon, awake the soul, As with a peal of thunder, to strange horrors, In this long restless dream, which idiots hug — Nay, wise men flatter with the name of life. Young's Brother $ Conscience, and nice scruples Are taxes that abound in none but meagre soils, To choke the aspiring seeds of manly daring : Those puny instincts, which in feeble minds, Unfit for great exploits, are miscall'd virtue. Jephson's Braganza. 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, 'Tis thine, O conscience, thine alone, It all belongs to thee. Mickle. Thus oft it haps, that when within, They shrink at sense of secret sin, A feather daunts the brave ; A fool's wild speech confounds the wise, And proudest princes veil their eyes, Before their meanest slave. Scott's Marmion. 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 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 slumber may be deep, Yet thy spirit shall not sleep, There are shades which will not vanish, There are thoughts thou canst not banish. Byron's Manjrea. Yet still there whispers the small voice within, Heard through God's silence, and o'er glory's diu Whatever creed be taught or land be trod, Man's conscience is the oracle of God ! Byron's Island PU CONSPIRACY. Though I know not That I do wrong, I feel a thousand fears Which are not ominous of right. Byron's Heaven and Earth. Pari I. But at sixteen the conscience rarely gnaws So much as when we call our old debts in At sixty years, and draw the accounts of evil, And find a deuced balance with the devil. Byron.. A quiet conscience makes one so serene ! Christians have burnt each other quite persuaded That all the apostles would have done as they did. Byron. The mind, that broods o'er guilty woes, Is like the scorpion girt by fire, In circle narrowing as it glows, The flames around their captive close, Till inly search'd by thousand throes, And maddening in her ire, One and sole relief she knows, The sting she nourish'd for her foes, Whose venom never yet was vain, Gives but one pang, and cures all pain, And darts into her desperate brain. So do the dark in soul expire, Or live like scorpion girt by fire ; So writhes the mind remorse hath riven, Unfit for earth, undoom'd for heaven, Darkness above, despair beneath, Around it flame, within it death ! Byron's Giaour. There is no power in holy men, Nor charms in prayer — nor purifying form Of penitence — nor outward look — nor fast — Nor agony — nor, greater than all these, The innate tortures of that deep despair, Which is remorse without the fear of hell, But all in all sufficient to itself, Would mak« a hell of heaven — can exercise, From out the unbounded spirit, the quick sense Of its own sins, wrongs, sufferance, and revenge Upon itself. Byron's Manfred. Not all the glory, all the praise, That decks the hero's prosperous days, The shout of men, the laurel crown, The poaling anthems of renown, May conscience' dreadful sentence drown. Mrs. Holford. Who born so poor, Of intellect so mean, as not to know What seem'd the best ; and knowing not to do ? A3 not to know what God and conscience bade, And v/nat they bade not able to obey ? Pollock's Course of Time. With peace of conscience, like to innocent men. Massinger Trust me, no tortures which the poets feign Can match the fierce, unutterable pain He feels, who night and day devoid of rest, Carries his own accuser in his breast. Gifford's Juvenal. He cannot look on her mild eye ; Her patient words his spirit quell, Within that evil heart there lie The hates and fears of hell. His speech is short ; he wears a surly brow — There 's none will hear her shriek ; what fear ye now? The workings of the soul ye fear ! Dana's Buccaneer. Dear mother! in ourselves is hid The holy spirit-land, Where Thought, the flaming cherub, stands With its relentless brand; We feel the pang, when that dread sword Inscribes the hidden sin, And turneth everywhere to guard The paradise within ! Mrs. E. Oakes Smith. He fears not dying — 'tis a deeper fear, — The thunder-peal cries to his conscience — " Hear !" The rushing winds from memory lift the veil, And in each flash his sins, like spectres pale, Freed, from their dark abode, his guilty breast, Shriek in his startled ear — "Death is not rest!" Mrs. Hale. CONSPIRACY. O conspiracy! Sham'st thou to show thy dangerous brow by night, When evils are most free ? O, then by day, Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough To mask thy monstrous visage? Seek none, , conspiracy, Hide it in smiles and affability: For if thou put thy native semblance on, Not Erebus itself were dim enough, To hide thee from prevention. Shaks. Julius Casar. Between the acting of a dreadful thing, And the first motion, all the interim is Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream ; The genius and the mortal instruments Are then in council ; and the state of a man, Like to a little kingdom, suffers then The nature of an insurrection. Shaks. Julius Casar. CONSIDERATION - CONSTANCY. 8J To be head We '11 cut off any member, and condemn Virtue or folly for a diadem, Banish religion, and make blood as cheap, As when two armies, turn'd into one heap Of carcasses, lye groV'ling : what care we For the slight tainture of disloyalty ? None will commend the race till it be run, And these are deeds, not prais'd till they are done. Robert Gomersall. Provide what money, and what arms you can ; Who has the gold, shall never want the man. Baron's Merza. My plots fall short, like darts, which rash hands throw, With an ill aim, and have too far to go ; Nor can I long discoveries prevent, I deal too much among the innocent. Sir Robert Howard's Vestal Virgin. Oh ! think what anxious moments pass between The birth of plots, and their last fatal periods ; Oh ! 't is a dreadful interval of time, Fill'd up with horror, and big with death. Addison's Cato. Conspiracies no sooner should Than executed. form'd Addison's Cato. Conspiracies, Like thunder-clouds, should in a moment form And strike, like lightning, ere the sound is heard. Dowels Sethona. CONSIDERATION. Consideration like an angel came, And whipp'd the offending Adam out of him Leaving his body as a paradise, To envelope and contain celestial spirits. Shaks. Henry V. Hang consideration ! When this is spent, is not our ship the same, Our courage too the same, to fetch in more ? The earth, where it is fertilest, returns not More than three harvests, while the glorious sun Posts through the zodiac, and makes up the year. But the sea, which is our mother (that embraces Both the rich Indies in her outstretch'd arms,) ; Yields every day a crop if we dare reap it. \ No, no, my mates, let tradesmen think of thrift, And usurers hoard up ; let our expense I Be as our comings in are, without bounds. Massinger. F CONSTANCY. I am constant as the northern star ; Of whose true, fix'd and resting quality There is no fellow in the firmament. Shaks. Julius Casar. Sooner I'll think the sun would cease to cheer The teeming earth, and then forget to bear ; Sooner that rivers would run back, or Thames With ribs of ice in June would bind his streams . Or nature, by whose strength the world endures, Would change her course before you alter yours. Jonson It is a noble constancy you show To this afflicted house : that not like others, The friends of season, you do follow fortune, And in the winter of their fate, forsake The place, whose glories warm'd you. Jonson's Sejanus. First shall the heav'n's bright lamp forget to shine, The stars shall from the azur'd sky decline : First shall the orient with the west shake hand, The centre of the world shall cease to stand : First wolves shall league with lambs, the dolphins fly, The lawyer and physician fees deny : The Thames with Tagus shall exchange her bed, My mistress' locks with mine shall first turn red : First heav'n shall lie below,- and hell above, Ere I inconstant to my Delia prove. Howell. When all things have their trial, you shall find Nothing is constant but a virtuous mind. Shirley's Witty Fair One Make my breast Transparent as pure crystal, that the world Jealous of me, may see the foulest thought My heart does hold. Where shall a woman lurn Her eyes to find out constancy. Buckingham. No never from this hour to part, We '11 live and love so true, The sigh that rends thy constant heart, Shall break thy Edwin's too. , Goldsmith' 1 8 Hern.tt. ''Yes, let the eagle change his plume, The leaf its hue, the flower its bloom, But ties around that heart were spun, Which would not, could not be undone. Campbeu The mountain rill Seeks with no surer flow the far, bright sea, Than my unchang'd affections flow to thee. Park Benjamin CONTEMPLATION - CONTEMPT - CONTENT. 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 trae'd in the dust, Where 't is swept by the breath of the breeze. Mrs. Welby. There is nothing but death . Our affections can sever, And till life's latest breath Love shall bind us for ever. Percival. I have won Thy heart, my gentle girl ! but it hath been When that soft eye was on me ; and the love I told beneath the evening influence, Shall be as constant as its gentle star. Willis. 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, Hale. CONTEMPLATION.— See Reflec- tion.) CONTEMPT. As in a theatre, the eyes of men, After a well-graced actor leaves the stage, Are idly bent on him that enters next, Thinking his prattle to be tedious : Even so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes Did scowl on Richard. Skaks. Richard II. Hold, Clifford ; do not honour him so much, To prick tliy finger, though to wound his heart ; What valour were it when a cur doth grin, For one to thrust his hand between his teeth, When he might spurn him with his foot away ? Skaks. Henry VI. Part III. T is true, I am hard buffeted, Though few can be my foes, Harsh words fall heavy on my head, And unresisted blows. R. M. Milnes. I, to herd with narrow foreheads, Vacant of our glorious gains, Like a beast with lower pleasures, Like a beast with lower pains ! Tennyson. Shall it not lie scorn to me To harp on such a moulder'd string ? J am sham'd through all my nature To have lov'd so slight a thing. Tennyson. CONTENT. There is a jewel which no Indian mine can buy No chemic art can counterfeit; It makes men rich in greatest poverty, Makes water wine, turns wooden cups to gold, The homely whistle to sweet music's strain ; Seldom it comes, to few from heaven sent, That much in little — all in naught — content. Wilbyt Contentment gives a crown, Where fortune hath deny'd it Thomas Ford's Love's Labyrinth Oh calm, hush'd, rich content, Is there a being, blessedness, without thee ? How soft thou down'st the couch where thou dost rest, Nectar to life, thou sweet ambrosian feast. Maston's first part of Antonio and Mellida, Yet oft we see that some in humble state Are cheerful, pleasant, happy, and content : When those indeed that are of higher state, With vain additions do their thoughts torment Lady Carew's Mariam. How man's desire Pursues contentment ! 'T is the soul of action, And the propounded reason of our life. NabVs Tottenham Court. The mind's content Sweetens all suff'rings of th' afflicted sense, Those that are bred in labour think it sport Above the soft delight which wanton appetite Begets for others, whom indulgent fortune Prefers in her degrees, though equal nature Made all alike. Nabb's Tottenham Court Each good mind doubles his own free content, When in another's use they give it vent Sir Giles Goosecap. I swear, 'tis better to be lowly born, And range with humble livers in content, Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief, And wear a golden sorrow. Shaks. Henry VIII. Poor and content, is rich and rich enough ; But riches, finelcss, is as poor as winter, To him that ever fears he shall be poor. SJmks. Othello My crown is in my heart not on my head ; Not deck'd with diamonds, and Indian stones, Nor to be seen : my crown is call'd content ; A crown it is that seldom kings enjoy. Shaks. Henry VI. Part III CONTENT. 83 Best state, contentless, Hath a distracted and most wretched being, Worse than the worst content Shales. Timon. Most miserable Is the desire that's glorious: blessed be those How mean soe'er, that have their honest wills, Which seasons comfort Shaks. Cyrnb. He that commends me to mine own content, Commends me to the thing I cannot get. Shaks. Cymb. Much will always wanting be To him who much desires. Thrice happy he To whom the wise indulgency of heaven, With sparing hand, but just enough has given. Cowley. Cellars and granaries in vain we fill With all the bounteous summer's store, If the mind thirst and hunger still : The poor rich man's emphatically poor. Slaves to the things we too much prize, We masters grow of all that we despise. Cowley. The cynic hugs his poverty, The pelican her wilderness; And 'tis the Indian's pride to be Naked on frozen Caucasus: Contentment cannot smart ; stoics, we see, Make torments easy to their apathy. Anon. O may I with myself agree, And never covet what I see; Content me with an humble shade, My passions tam'd, my wishes laid; For while our wishes wildly roll, We banish quiet from the soul; 'Tis then the busy beat the air, And misers gather wealth and care. Dyer's Grongar Hill, O grant me, heav'n, a middle state, Neither too humble nor too great ; More than enough for nature's ends, With something left to treat my friends. Mallet. Unfit for greatness, I her snares defy, And look on riches with untainted eye To others let the glitt'ring baubles fall, Content shall place us far above them all. Churchill. What tho' we quit all glittering pomp and greatness, The busy noisy flattery of courts, We shall enjoy content; in that alone Is greatness, power, wealth, honour, all summ'd up. Powell's King of Naples. Contentment, rosy, dimpled maid, Thou brightest daughter of the sky, Why dost thou to the hut repair, And from the gilded palace fly ? I've trae'd thee on the peasant's cheek; I 've mark'd thee in the milkmaid's smi.e ; I 've heard thee loudly laugh and speak, Amid the sons of want and toil ; Yet in the circles of the great, Where fortune's gifts are all combin'd, I've sought thee early, sought thee late, And ne'er thy lovely form could find. Since then from wealth and pomp you flee, I ask but competence and thee ! Lady Mann*>$ Life's but a short chase; our game — content Which most pursued, is most compell'd to fly : And he that mounts him on the swiftest hope, Shall soonest run his courser to a stand ; While the poor peasant from some distant hill, Undanger'd and at ease, views all the sport, And sees content take shelter in his cottage. Cibber's Richard III Her poverty was glad ; her heart content, Nor knew she what the spleen or vapours mean! Dryden. Contentment parent of delight, So much a stranger to our sight, Say, goddess in what happy place, Mortals behold thy blooming face ; Thy gracious auspices impart, And for thy temple choose my heart, They whom thou deignest to inspire, Thy science learn, to bound desire ; By happy alchymy of mind, They turn to pleasure all they find. Green's Spleen The bliss of man (could pride that blessing find) Is not to act or think beyond mankind No pow'rs of body or of soul to share, But what his nature and his state can bear Why has not man a microscopic eye ? For this plain reason — man is not a fly. Say for what use were finer optics given T' inspect a mite, not comprehend the heav'n I Or touch, if tremblingly alive all o'er, To smart and agonize at ev'ry pore ? Or quick effluvia darting through the brain, Die of a rose in aromatic pain ? If nature thund'red in his op'ning ears, And stunn'd him with the music of the sphertv How would he wish that heaven had left him stiJl The whisp'ring zephyr, and the purling rill ? Who finds not providence all good and wise, Alike in what it gives and what denies. pope's Essay on M**. m CONVERSATION - COQUETTE. Honour and shame from no condition rise ; Act well your part, there all the honour lies. Fortune in men has some small difference made, One flaunts in rags, one flutters in brocade ; The cobler apron'd, and the parson gown'd, The friar hooded, and the monarch crown'd. " What differ more," you cry, " than crown and cowl," 1 11 tell you, friend ! — a wise man and a fool. You'll find, if once the monarch acts the monk, Or, cobbler-like, the parson will be drunk, Worth makes the man and want of it the fellow ; The rest is all but leather or prunella. Pope's Essay on Man. Cease then, nor order imperfection name : Our proper bliss depends on what we blame. Know thy own point ; this kind, this due degree Of blindness, weakness, heav'n bestows on thee, •submit — in this or any other sphere, Secure to be as bless'd as thou canst bear. Pope's Essay on Man. As in those domes, where Csesars once bore sway, Defac'd by time, and tott'ring in decay, There in the ruin, heedless of the dead, The shelter-seeking peasant builds his shed ; And wondering man could want a larger pile, Exults, and owns his cottage with a smile. Goldsmith's Traveller. 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. Happy the life, that in a peaceful stream, Obscure, unnoticed through the vale has flow'd ; The heart that ne'er was charm'd by fortune's gleam Is ever sweet contentment's blest abode. Percival. Lo now, from idle wishes clear, I make the good I may not find ; Adown the stream I gently steer, And shift my sail with every wind. And half by nature, half by reason, Can still with pliant heart prepare, The mind, attuned to every season, The merry heart that laughs at care. H. M. Milman. Think'st thou the man whose mansions hold The worldling's pomp and miser's gold, Obtains a richer prize Than he who, in his cot at rest, Kinds heavenly peace a willing guest, And bears the promise in his breast ••f treasure ill the skies? Mrs. Sigourney. Content dwells with him, for his mind is fed, And temperance has driven out unrest. Willi! CONVERSATION. — (See Talking.) COQUETTE. While to his arms the blushing bride he took, To seeming sadness she compos'd her look ; As if by force subjected to his will, Though pleas'd, dissembling, and a woman still. Dryden's Cymon and Iphigenia She lik'd his soothing lutes, his presents more, And granted kisses, but would grant no more. Gay's Trivia. Then in a kiss she breath'd her various arts, Of trifling prettily with wounded hearts ; A mind for love, but still a changing mind, The lisp affected, and the glance design'd ; The sweet confusing blush, the secret wink, The gentle swimming walk, the courteous sink ; The stare for strangeness fit, for scorn the frown For decent yielding, looks declining down ; The practis'd languish, where well-feign'd desire Would own its melting in a mutual fire ; Gay smiles to comfort ; April showers to move ; And all the nature, all the art of love. Parnell's Hesml. From loveless youth to unrespected age No passion gratified, except her rage, So much the fury still outran the wit, The pleasure mist her, and the scandal hit. Pope's Moral Essays. There affectation, with a sickly mien, Shows in her cheeks the roses of eighteen , Practis'd to lisp, and hang the head aside, Faints into airs, and languishes with pride : On the rich quilt sinks with becoming woe, Wrapt in a gown, for sickness and for show. Pope's Rape of the Lock Her lively looks a sprightly mind disclose, Quick as her eyes, and as unfix'd as those ; Favours to none, to all she smiles extends, Oft she rejects, but never once offends. Bright as the sun her eyes the gazers strike, And, like the sun, they shine on all alike. Pope's Rape of the Lock. See how the world its veterans rewards ! A 3'outh of frolics, an old age of cards ; Fair to no purpose, artful to no end ; Young without lovers, old without a friend ; A fop their passion, but their prize a sot ; Alive, ridiculous ; and dead, forgot ! Pope's Moral Essays. CORPULENCE. BR Odious! in woollen ! 'twould a saint provoke, 'Were the last words that poor Narcissa spoke) " No, let a charming chintz, and Brussels lace, " Wrap my cold limbs, and shade my lifeless face : "One would not, sure, be frightful when one's dead — ■ "And — Betty — give this cheek a little red." Pope's Mitral Essays. With every pleasing, every prudent part, Say, " what can Chloe want ?" — she wants a heart She speaks, behaves, and acts just as she ought; But never, never reach'd one generous thought Virtue she finds too painful an endeavour, Content to dwell in decencies for ever. So very reasonable, so unmov'd, As never yet to love, or to be lov'd. Pope's Moral Essays. 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 ; Who were thy parents, blushful virgin ? — say; ! Perchance dame Folly gave thee to the day, With Gaffer Ignorance's aid. Dr. WolcoVs Peter Pindar. Now Laura moves along the joyous crowd, Smiles in her eyes, and simpers on her lips ; To some she whispers, others speaks aloud, To some she curtsies, and to some she dips. Byron's Beppo. Such is your cold 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 blow ; Then sees your heart wreck'd with an inward This works a world of sentimental woe, And sends new Werters yearly to their coffin ; But yet is merely innocent flirtation, Not quite adultery, but adulteration. Byron. The vain coquette each suit disdains, And glories in her lover's pains ; With age she fades — each lover flies, Contemn'd, forlorn, she pines and dies. Gay's Fables. Who has 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. Can I again that look recall, That once could make me die for thee ? — No, no ! — the eye that beams on all, Shall never more be priz'd by me. Moore. 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. Now I pray thee do not call My cousin a coquette, When I tell you she had danglers By the dozen in her net; For she was very beautiful, Bewildering and bright Mrs. Osgood But why, oh why, on all thus squander The treasures one alone can prize, — Why let the looks at random wander, Which beam from those deluding eyes ? Those syren tones, so lightly spoken, Cause many a heart, I know, to thrill ; But mine, and only mine, till broken, In every pulse must answer still. 4 C. F. Hoffman 1 would sooner bind My thoughts to the open sky : I would worship as soon a familiar star, That is bright to every eye. 'Twere to love the wind that is free to all — The wave of the beautiful sea — 'Twere to hope for all the light in heaven, To hope for the love of thee. Willis. CORPULENCE. Would he were fatter : — But I fear him not : Yet if my name were liable to fear, I do not know the man I should avoid So soon as that spare Cassius. Shaks. Julius Ccesar, Let me have men about me that are fat, Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep o' nights : Yond' Cassius has a lean and hungry look; He thinks too much ; such men are dangerous. Sliaks. Julius Ccesai Now Falstaff sweats to death. And lards the lean earth as he walks along : Were 't not for laughing I should pity him. Shaks. Henry IV. Part I Still she strains the aching clasp That binds her virgin zone ; I know it hurts her, though she looks As cheerful as she can, Her waist is larger than her life For life is but a span. 0. W. Holm* 8 CORRUPTION. CORRUPTION. My bu-iness in this state, Made me a looker-on here in Vienna, Where I have seen corruption boil and bubble, Till it o'errun the stew. Shahs. Mea.for Mea. Corruption is a tree, whose branches are Of an immeasurable length ; they spread Ev'ry where ; and the dew that drops from thence Hath infected some chairs and stools of authority. Beaumont and Fletcher's Honest Man's Fortune. Justice herself, that sitteth whimpled 'bout The eyes, doth it not because she will take No gold, but that she would not be seen blushing When she takes it ; the balances she holds Are not to weigh the rights of the cause, but The weight of the bribe : she will put up her Naked sword, if thou offer her a golden scabbard. Lilly's Midas. TTe whi^tempts, though in vain, at least asperses The tempted with dishonour foul, suppos'd Not incorruptible of faith, not proof Against temptation. Milton's Paradise Lost. As some of us, in trusts, have made The one hand with the other trade : Gain'd vastly by their joint endeavour, The right a thief, the left receiver ; And what the one, by tricks, forestall' d, The other, by as sly, retail'd. Butler's Hudihras. He that complies against his will, Is of his own opinion still ; Which he may adhere to, yet disown, For reasons to himself best known. Butler's Hudihras. Know what a leading voice is worth. A seconding, a third, or fourth ; How much a casting voice comes to, That turns up trumps of ay, or no: And by adjusting all at th' end, Share every one his dividend. Butler's Hudihras. Far as the sun his radiant course extends, Interest, my friend, with sway despotic rules, Some fight for interest, some for interest pray, And were not honesty the road to want, T< wou,d not be that slighted thing it is. Gentleman's Osman. Hence, wretched nation ! all thy woes arise, Avnw'd corruption, licens'd perjuries, Eternal taxes, treaties for a day, Ni/vants that rule, and senates that obey. Lord Lytlleton. 'T is hence you lord it o'er your servile senates ; How low the slaves will stoop to gorge their lusts When aptly baited : ev'n the tongues of patriots, Those sons of clamour, oft relax the nerve Within the warmth of favour. Brooke's Gvstavus Vasa The impious man, who sells his country's freedom Makes all the guilt of tyranny his own. His are her slaughters, her oppressions his ; Just heav'n ! reserve your choicest plagues for him, And blast the venal wretch. Martyn's Timoleon. If, ye. powers divine ! Ye mark the movements of this nether world, And bring them to account, crush, crush, those vipers, Who, singled out by a community To guard their rights, shall, for a grasp of air, Or paltry office, sell 'em to the foe. Miller's Mahomet. Unless corruption first deject the pride, And guardian vigour of the free-born soul, All crude attempts of violence are vain ; Too firm within, and while at heart untouch'd, Ne'er yet by force was freedom overcome. Thomson's Liberty. But though bare merit might in Rome appear The strongest plea for favour, 't is not here ; We form our judgment in another way ; And they will best succeed, who best can pay ; Those, who would gain the votes of British tribes, Must add to force of merit, force of bribes. Churchill's Rosciad. In Britain's senate, he a seat obtains, And one more pensioner St. Stephen gains. My lady falls to play ; so bad her chance, He must repair it ; takes a bribe from France : The house impeach him, Coningsby harangues, The court forsake him, and Sir Balaam hangs : Wife, son, and daughter, Satan, are thy own, His wealth, yet dearer, forfeit to the crown : The devil and the king divide the prize, And sad Sir Balaam curses God and dies. Pope's Moral Essays Ask men's opinion ; Scoto, now shall tell, How trade increases, and the world goes well : Strike off his pension by the setting sun, And Britain, if not Europe, is undone. Pope's Moral Essays The veriest hermit in the nation May yield, God knows, to strong temptation. Pope Who having lost his credit, pawn'd his rent, Is therefore fit to have a government Pope. COUNTRY. 87 This mournful truth is every where confess'd, Slow rises worth by poverty depress'd : But here more slow, where all are slaves to gold, Where looks are merchandise, and smiles are sold : When won by bribes, by flatteries implor'd, The groom retails the favour of his lord. Dr. Johnson's London. Here let those reign, whom pensions can incite, To vote a patriot black, a courtier white, Explain their country's dear-bought rights away, And plead for pirates in the face of day ; With slavish tenets taint our poison'd youth, And lend a lie the confidence, of truth. Dr. Johnson's London. Ere masquerades debauch'd, excise oppress'd, Or English honour grew a standing jest. Dr. Johnson's London. Our supple tribes repress their patriot throats, And ask no questions but the price of votes. Dr. Johnson's Vanity of Human Wishes. Talk not of a grant : What a king ought not, that he cannot give ; And what is more than meet from princes' bounty, Is plunder, not a grant. Young's Brothers. Thieves at home must hang ; but he that puts Into his overgorged and bloated purse, The wealth of Indian provinces, escapes. Cowper's Task. He burns with most intense and flagrant zeal To serve his country. Ministerial grace Deals him out money from the public chest, i Or if that mine be shut, some private purse Supplies his need with an usurious loan, To be refunded duly, when his vote, Well-managed, shall have earn'd its worthy price. Camper's Task. Whoso seeks an audit here Propitious, pays his tribute, game or fish, Wild fowl or ven'son, and his errand speeds. Cowper'e Task. Examine well His milk-white hand, the palm is hardly clean — But here and there an ugly smutch appears. Foh ! 'T was a bribe that left it. He has touch'd Corruption. Cowper's Task. To bribe the mob, with brandy, beer, and song, To put their greasy fists to court addresses, Full of professions kind, and sweet caresses, And with a fiddle lead the hogs along. Dr. Wolcot's Peter Pindar. E'en grave divines submit to glittering gold ! The best of consciences are bought and sold. Dr. Wolcot's Peter Pindar. A close state-.eech, who, sticking to the nation, As adders deaf to honour's execration, Sucks from its throat the blood by night, by day, Nor till the state expires, will drop away. Dr. Wolcofs Peter Pindar And conscience, truth, and honesty are made To rise and fall, like other wares of trade. Moore. 'T is pleasant, purchasing our fellow-creatures, And all are to be sold, if you consider Their passions, and are dext'rous ; some by features Are bought up, others by a warlike leader, Some by a place, as tend their years or natures ; The most by ready cash — but all have prices, From crowns to kicks, according to their vices. Byron COUNTRY. I can make any country mine : I have A private coat for Italian stilettos, . I can be treach'rous with the Walloon, drunk with The Dutch, a chimney-sweeper with the Irish, A gentlemen with the Welch, and turn arrant Thief with the English. What then is my countrj to me ? j Rowley's Noble Spanish Soldier. Stand Firm for your country, and become a man Honour' d and lov'd : It were a noble life, To be found dead embracing her. Johnson's Catiline. He who loves not his country can love nothing. Byron, And lives there man, with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said — This is my own, my native land ! Sir Walter Scott They love their land because it is their own, And scorn to give aught other reason why. Halleck Who dies in vain Upon his country's war-fields and within The shadow of her altars ? Feeble heart ! I tell thee that the voice of patriot blood, Thus pour'd for faith and freedom, hath a tone Which from the night of ages, from the gulf Of death shall burst and make its high appeal Sound unto earth and heaven ! Mrs. Hsmunt* My country ! ay, thy sons are proud, True heirs of freedom's glorious dower ; For never here has knee been bow'd In homage to a mortal power 1 Mrs. Hair COUNTRY LIFE. No fearing, no doubting, thy soldier shall know, When here stands his country, and yonder her foe ; One look at the bright sun, one prayer to the sky, One glance where our banner floats glorious on high : Then on, as the young lion bounds on his prey ; Let the sword flash on high, fling the scabbard away ; Roll on, like the thunderbolt over the plain ! — Wc come back in glory, or come not again. Thomas Gray, Jr. Thou, O, my country, hast thy foolish ways, Too apt to purr at every stranger's praise, — But if the stranger touch thy modes or laws, Off goes the velvet, and out come the claws ! O. W. Holmes. COUNTRY LIFE. None can describe the sweets of country life, But those blest men that do enjoy and taste them. Plain husbandmen, tho' far below our pitch Of fortune plac'd, enjoy a wealth above us : To whom the earth with true and bounteous justice, Free from war's cares returns an easy food. They breathe the fresh and uncorrupted air, And by clear brooks enjoy untroubled sleeps. Their state is fearless and secure, enrich'd With several blessings, such as greatest kings Might in true justice envy, and themselves Would count too happy, if they truly knew them. May's Agrippina. The fields did laugh, the flowers did freshly spring, The trees did bud and early blossoms bore, And all the quire of birds did sweetly sing, And told that gardin's pleasures in their caroling. Spenser's Fairy Queen. Oh, this life Is nobler than attending for a check , Richer than doing nothing for a bauble ; Prouder than rustling in unpaid-for silk : Such gain the cap of him, that makes them fine, Yet keeps his book uncross'd. Shahs. Cymbelinc. Abused mortals ! did you know Where joy, heart's-ease, and comforts growj You 'd scorn proud towers, And seek them in these bowers, Where winds sometimes our woods perhaps may shake, Unt blustering care could never tempest make, Nor murmurs e'er come nigh us, Saving of fountains that glide by us. Sir W. Raleigh. Blest silent groves ! O may ye be For ever mirth's best nursery! May pure contents For ever pitch their tents Upon these downs, these meads, these rocks, these mountains, And peace still slumber by these purling fountains ! Which we may every year Find when we come a fishing here ! Sir W. Raleigh. This is a beautiful life now, privacy, The sweetness and the benefit of essence : I see there is no man but may make his paradise, And it is nothing but his love and dotage Upon the world's foul joys that keeps him out on 't Beaumont and Fletcher's Nice Valour. Under a tuft of shade that on the green Stood whisp'ring soft, by a fresh fountain side They sat them down ; and after no more toil Of their sweet gard'ning labour than suffic'd To recommend cool zephyr, and made ease More easy, wholesome thirst and appetite More grateful, to their supper fruits they fell. Milton's Paradise Lost. Now purer air Meets his approach, and to the heart inspires Vernal delight and joy, able to drive All sadness but despair : now gentle gales, Fanning their odoriferous wings, dispense Native perfumes, and whisper whence they stole Those balmy spoils. Milton's Paradise Lost. The flow'ry lap Of irriguous valley spread her store, Flow'rs of all hue, and without thorn the rose. Milton's Paradise Lost. A wilderness of sweets : for nature here Wanton'd as in her prime, and play'd at will Her virgin fancies, pouring forth more sweets ; Wild above rule or art, enormous bliss. Milton's Paradise Lost. 'T is a goodly scene — Yon river, like a silvery snake, lays out His coil, i' th' sunshine lovingly — it breathes Of freshness in this lap of flowery meadows. Sir A. Hunt's Julian. O happy if ye knew your happy state, Ye rangers of the fields ! whom nature's boon Cheers with her smiles, and ev'ry element Conspires to bless. Somerville's Clutse. 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 Churcli-Yard. UJUNTRY LIFE. BQ happy plains ! remote from war's alarms, And all the ravages of hostile arms ! And happy shepherds, who, secure from fear, On open downs preserve your fleecy care ! Whose spacious barns groan with increasing store, And whirling flails disjoint the cracking floor ! No barbarous soldier, bent on cruel spoil, Spreads desolation o'er your fertile soil ; No trampling steed lays waste the ripen'd grain ; Nor crackling fires devour the promis'd gain ; No flaming heavens cast their blaze afar, ; The dreadful signal of invasive war ; No trumpet's clangour wounds the mother's ear, And calls the lover from his swooning fair. Gay's Rural Sports. What happiness the rural maid attends, In cheerful labour while each day she spends ! She gratefully receives what heaven has sent, And, rich in poverty, enjoys content. (Such happiness, and such unblemish'd fame, j Ne'er glad the bosom of the courtly dame :) I She never feels the spleen's imagin'd pains, | Nor melancholy stagnates in her veins ; i She never loses life in thoughtless ease, Nor on the velvet couch invites disease ; Her home-spun dress in simple neatness lies, And for no glaring equipage she sighs : Her reputation, which is all her boast, In a malicious visit ne'er was lost, No midnight masquerade her beauty wears, And health, not paint, the fading bloom repairs. Gay's Rural Sports. Ye happy fields, unknown to noise and strife, The kind rewarders of industrious life ; Ye shady woods, where once I us'd to rove, Alike indulgent to the muse and love ; • Ye murmuring streams that in meanders roll, The sweet composers of the pensive soul, Farewell ! The city calls me from your bowers ; Farewell, amusing thought, and peaceful hours. Gay's Rural Sports. Perhaps thy lov'd Lucinda shares thy walk, With soul to thine attun'd. Then nature all Wears to the lover's eye a look of love ; And ail the tumult of a guilty world, Toss'd by ungenerous passions, sinks away. Thomson's Seasons. Together thus they shunn'd the cruel scorn Which virtue, sunk to poverty, would meet From giddy passion and low-minded pride : Almost on nature's common bounty fed ; Like the gay birds that sung them to repose, Content and careless of to-morrow's fare. Thomson's Seasons. Thrice happy he ! who on the sunless side Of a romantic mountain, forest crown'd, Beneath the whole collected shade reclines: Or in the gelid caverns, wood-bine wrought, And fresh bedew'd with ever-spouting streams, Sits coolly calm ; while all the world without, Unsatisfied and sick, tosses at noon. Emblem instructive of the virtuous man, Who keeps his temper'd mind serene and pure, And every passion aptly harmonis'd, Amid a jarring world with vice inflam'd. Thomson'' 8 Seasims. The lovely young Lavinia once had friends ; And fortune smil'd, deceitful, on her birth ; For in her helpless years depriv'd of all, Of every stay, save innocence and heaven, She with her widow'd mother, feeble, old, And poor, liv'd in a cottage, far retir'd Among the windings of a woody vale ; By solitude and deep surrounding shades, But more by bashful modesty conceal'd. Thomson's Seasor.s Here too dwells simple truth ; plain innocence ; Unsullied beauty ; sound unbroken youth, Patient of labour, with a little pleas'd ; Health ever blooming ; unambitious toil ; Calm contemplation; and poetic ease. s Seasons He when young spring protrudes the bursting gems, Marks the first bud, and sucks the healthful gale Into his freshen'd soul ; her genial hours He full enjoys; and not a beauty blows, And not an opening blossom breathes in vain. Thomson's Seasons Be full, ye courts, be great who will ; Search for peace with all your skill ; Open wide the lofty door, Seek her on the marble floor ; In vain you search, she is not there ; In vain you search the domes of care : Grass and flowers Quiet treads, On the meads and mountain-heads, Along with Pleasure close ally'd, Ever by each other's side : And often by the murm'ring rill, Hear the thrush, while all is still Within the groves of Grongar HilL Dyt, Thus is nature's vesture wrought, To instruct our wandering thought ; Thus she dresses green and gay, To dispense our cares away. Dyer'3 Grongar HuJ S* L-0 COUNTRY LIFE. Ever charming, ever new, When will the landscape tire the view ! The fountains fall, the rivers flow, The woody valleys, warm and low, The windy summit, wild and high, Roughly rushing on the sky ! The pleasant scat, the ruin'd tower, The naked rock, the shady bower, The town and village, dome and farm, Each gave each a double charm, As pearls upon an Ethiop's arm. Dyer's Grongar Hill. Secure and free they pass their harmless hours, Gay as the birds that revel in the grove, And sing the morning up. Tate's Loyal General. Born to no pride, inheriting no strife, Nor marrying discord in a noble wife, Stranger to civil and religious rage, The good man walk'd innoxious through his age ; No courts he saw, no suits would ever try, Nor dar'd an oath, nor hazarded a lie. Unlearn'd, he knew no schoolmen's subtle art, No language but the language of the heart, By nature honest, by experience wise, Healthy by temperance and exercise ; His life, though long, to sickness past unknown, His death was instant and without a groan. O grant me thus to live, and thus to die ! Who sprung from kings shall know less joy than I. Pope. Give me, indulgent gods ! with mind serene, And guiltless heart, to range the sylvan scene, No oplendid poverty, no smiling care, No well-bred hate, or servile grandeur there. Young's Love of Fame. Nature I '11 court in her sequester'd haunts, By mountain, meadow, streamlet, grove, or cell ; Where the pois'd lark his evening ditty chants, And health, and peace, and contemplation dwell. Smollet's Ode to Independence. Sweet was the sound, when oft at evening's close, Up yonder hill the village murmur rose ; There, as I pass'd with careless steps and slow, The mingling notes came soften'd from below ; The swain responsive as the milk-maid sung, The sober herd that low'd to meet their young ; The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool, The playful children just let loose from school ; The watch -dog's voice that bay'd the whisp'ring wind, And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind ; These all in sweet confusion sought the shade, Vid fill'd each pause the nightingale had made. Goldsmiths Deserted Village. A time there was, ere England's griefs began, When ev'ry rood of ground maintain'd its man, For him light labour spread her wholesome store, Just gave what life rcquir'd, and gave no more. His best companions, innocence and health, And his best wishes, ignorance of wealth. Goldsmith's Deserted Village. Around in sympathetic mirth Its tricks the kitten tries; The cricket chirrups in the hearth, The crackling fagot flies. Goldsmith's Hermit God made the country and man made the town ; What wonder then, that health and virtue, gifts That can alone make sweet the bitter draught That life holds out to all, should most abound And least be threaten' d in the fields and groves ? Cowper's Task. Scenes must be beautiful which daily view'd Please daily, and whose novelty survives Long knowledge and the scrutiny of years. Cowper's Task. The spleen is seldom felt where Flora reigns; The low'ring eye, the petulance, the frown, And sullen sadness that o'ershade, distort, And mar the face of beauty, when no cause For such immeasurable woe appears, These Flora banishes, and gives the fair Sweet smiles and blooms less transient than her own. Cowper's Task. Nor rural sights alone, but rural sounds Exhilarate the spirits, and restore The tone of languid nature. Mighty winds, That sweep the skirt of some fair-spreading wood Of ancient growth, make music not unlike The dash of ocean on his winding shore, And lull the spint while they fill the mind. Cowper's Task. They love the country, and none else, who seek For their own sake its silence and its shade : Delights which who would leave, that has a heart Susceptible of pity, or a mind Cultured and capable of sober thought? Cowper's Task. Meditation here May think down hours to moments. Here the heart May give an useful lesson to the head, And learning wiser grow without his books. Cowper's Task This pure air Braces the listless nerves, and warms the blood : I feel in freedom here. Joanna Baillie's De Montfort COUNTRY LIFE. 91 O how canst thou renounce the boundless store Of charms which nature to her votary yields ! The warbling woodland, the resounding shore, Th.e pomp of groves, and garniture of fields ; All that the genial ray of morning gilds, And all that echoes to the song of even, All that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields, And all the dread magnificence of heaven, O how canst thou renounce and hope to be forgiven ! Beattie's Minstrel. There health, so wild and gay, with bosom bare, And rosy cheek, keen eye, and flowing hair, Trips with a smile the breezy scene along, And pours the spirit of content in song. Dr. WolcoVs Peter Pindar. But peace was on the cottage, and the fold, From court intrigue, from bickering faction far ; Beneath the chestnut tree love's tale was told ; And to the tinkling of the light guitar, Sweet stoop' d the western sun, sweet rose the evening star. ScoWs Vision of Don Roderick. There shall be love, when genial morn appears, Like pensive beauty, smiling in her tears, To watch the brightening roses of the sky, And muse on nature with a poet's eye ! Campbell's Pleasures of Hope. The moon is up — the watch-tower dimly burns — And down the vale his sober step returns ; But pauses oft, as winding rocks convey The still sweet fall of music far away ; And oft he lingers from his home awhile To watch the dying notes ; and start, and smile. Campbell's Pleasures of Hope. It was in this lone valley she would charm The ling'ring noon, where flow'rs a couch had strewn ; Her cheek reclining, and her snowy arm On hillock by the palm-tree half o'ergrown : And aye that volume on her lap is thrown, Which every heart of human mould endears ; With Shakspeare's self she speaks and smiles alone, And no intruding visitation fears, To shame th' unconscious laugh, or stop her sweet- est tears. Campbell's Gertrude of Wyoming, From the white-thorn the May-flower shed Its dewy fragrance round our head : Not Ariel lived more merrily Under the blossom'd bough than we. Scott's Marmion. To pass their lives in fountains and on flowers, And never know the weight of human hours. Byron. The nightingale, their only vesper-bell, Sung sweetly to the rose the day's farewell. Byron's Island — View them near At home, where all their worth and power is placed ; And there their hospitable fires burn clear, And there the lowest farm-house hearth is graced With manly hearts in piety sincere, Faithful in love, in honour stern and chaste, In friendship warm and true, in danger brave, Beloved in life and sainted in the grave. Halleck's Poems And the winds and the waters In pastoral measures, Go winding around us, with roll upon roll, Till the soul lies within In a circle of pleasures, Which hideth the soul. Miss Barrett. Thanks to my humble nature, while I 've limbs, Tastes, senses, I'm determined to be rich; So long as that fine alchymist, the sun, Can transmute into gold whate'er I like On earth, in air, or water ! while a banquet Is ever spread before me, in a hall Of heaven's own building, perfumed with the breath Of nature's self, and ringing to the sounds Of her own choristers. J. N. Barker- Poor drudge of the city ! How happy he feels, With burrs on his legs And the grass at his heels; No dodger behind, His bandannas to share, No constable grumbling — " You cannot go there !" O. W. Holmes Your love in a cottage is hungry, Your vine is a nest for flies — Your milkmaid shocks the graces And simplicity talks of pies ! You lie down to your shady slumber And wake with a bug in your ear, And your damsel that walks in the morning Is shod like a mountaineer. Willis Rich, though poor ! My low-roof'd cottage is this hour a heaven, Music is in it — and the song she sings, That sweet-voiced wife of mine, arrests the ea, i Of my young child awake upon her knee And with his calm eye on his master's face My noble hound lies couchant. WtUu 92 COURAGE. I 'm weary of my lonely hut And of its bias ,jd tree, The very lake is like my lot, So silent constantly — I've liv'd amid the forest gloom Until I almost fear — When will the thrilling voices come My spirit thirsts to hear? Willis. O, when I am safe in my sylvan home, I mock at the pride of Greece and Rome ; And when I am strctch'd beneath the pinea When the evening star so holy shines, I laugh at the lore and pride of man, At the Sophist's schools, and the learned clan ; For what are they all in their high conceit, When man in the bush with God may meet ? R. W. Emerson. Within the sun-lit forest, Our roof the bright blue sky, Where fountains flow, and wild flowers blow, We lift our hearts on high. Ebenezer Elliott. I sigh for the time When the reapers at morn Come down from the hill At the sound of the horn ; Or when dragging the rake, I follow'd them out While they toss'd the light sheaves With their laughter about ; Through the field, with boy-daring, Barefooted I ran; But the stubbles foreshadow'd The path of the man. Now the uplands of life Lie all barren of sheaves — While my footsteps are loud In the withering leaves. T. Buchanan Read. COURAGE. It is held, That valour is the chiefest virtue, and Most dignifies the haver : If it be, The man I speak of cannot in the world Re singly counterpois'd. SJiaks. Coriolanus. He stopp'd the fliers; And, by his rare example, made the coward Turn terrot into «port ; as wii ves before A vessel under sail, so men obey'd Aj»a fell before his stern. Stoks. Coriolanus. Methinks I see him stamp thu?, and call thus,— Come on, you cowards, you were got in fear, Though you were borne in Rome. SJiaks. Coriolanut Come all to ruin ; Let thy mother rather feel thy pride, than fcpr Thy dangerous stoutness ; for I mock at death, With as big heart as thou. Do as thou list. Thy valiantness was mine, thou suck'dst it from me; But own thy pride thyself. Shaks. Coriolanus False hound ! If you have writ your annals true, 't is there, That like an eagle in a dove-cote, I Flutter'd your voices in Corioli : Alone I did it Shales. Coriolanus. The mind I sway by, and the heart I bear, Shall never sagg with doubt, nor shake with fear. Shaks. Macbeth. Pr'ythee, peace :' I dare do all that may become a man ; Who dares do more, is none. Shaks. Macbeth. But screw your courage to the sticking place, And we '11 not fail. Shaks. Macbeth. I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd, Than what I fear ; for always I am Caesar. ' Shaks. Julius Cassar Think not, thou noble Roman, That ever Brutus will go bound to Rome ; He bears too great a mind. Shaks. Julius C&sar I dare assure thee that no enemy Shall ever take alive the noble Brutus : The Gods defend him from so great a shame ! When you do find him, or alive, or dead, He will be found like Brutus, — like himself. Shaks. Julius Ccesar. A thousand hearts are great within my bosom : Advance our standards, set upon our foes ; Our ancient word of courage, fair St. George, Inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons ! Upon them ! Victory sits upon our helms. Shaks. Ricltard III. If we be conqucr'd, let men conquer us, And not these bastard Brctagnes ; whom our fathers Have in their own land beaten,bobb'd, and thump'd, And, on record, left them the heirs of shame. Shaks. Richard III COURAGE. 93 Fight, gentlemen of England ; fight, bold yeomen : Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head. Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood : Amaze the welkin with your broken staves. Shahs. Richard III. King Richard. — A horse ! a horse! my kingdom for a horse ! Calesby. — Withdraw, my lord : I '11 help you to a horse. King Richard. — Slave, I have set my life upon a cast, And I will stand the hazard of the die. Shaks. Richard III. The smallest worm will turn, being trodden on ; And doves will peck, in safeguard of their brood. Shaks. Richard III. What though the mast be now blown overboard, The cable broke, the holding anchor lost, And half our sailors swallow'd in the flood ; Yet lives our pilot still. Is 't meet that he Should leave the helm, and, like a fearful lad, With tearful eyes add water to the sea, And give more strength to that which hath too much, Whiles, in his moan, the ship slips on the rock, Which industry and courage might have sav'd ? Ah, what a shame ! ah, what a fault were this ! Shaks. Henry IV. Pari III. In despite of all mischance, Of thee thyself, and all thy complices, Edward will always bear himself a king : Though fortune's malice overthrow my state, My mind exceeds the compass of her wheel. Shaks. Henry IV. Part III. They call'd us for our fierceness, English dogs ; Now, like to whelps, we crying ran away. Hark, countrymen ! either renew the fight, Or tear the lions out of England's coat ; Renounce your soil, give sheep in lion's stead. Shaks. Henry IV. Part I. By how much unexpected, by so much We must awake, endeavour for defence ; For courage mounteth with occasion. SItaks. King John. He 's truly valiant that can suffer The worst that man can breathe ; and make his wrongs His outsides; to wear them like his raiment, care- lessly ; And ne'er prefer his injuries to his heart, To bring it into danger. Shaks. Timon. His valour, shown upon our crests to-day, Hath taught us how to cherish such high deeds, Even in the bosom of our adversaries. Shaks. Henry IV. Part I. You must not think, That we are made of stuff" so flat and dull, That we can let our beard be shook with danger And think it pastime. Shaks. HamleL Let us die instant : once more back again ; The man that will not follow Bourbon now, Let him go home, and with his cap in hand, Like a base pander hold the chamber door, Whilst, by a slave, no gentler than my dog, His fairest daughter is contaminate. Shaks. Henry V A valiant man Ought not to undergo, or tempt a danger, But worthily, -and by selected ways. He undertakes by reason, not by chance. His valour is the salt t' his virtues, They 're all unseason'd without it. Ben Jonson's New Inn. Brave spirits are a balsam to themselves, There is a nobleness of mind, that heals Wounds beyond salves. Cartwrighfs Lady Errant What, though the field be lost, All is not lost ; th' ungovernable will, And study of revenge, immortal hate, And courage never to submit or yield, And what is else not to be overcome ; That glory never shall his wrath or might Extort from me. Milton's Paradise Lost Darken'd so, yet shone Above them all the arch-angel : but his face Deep scars of thunder had intrench'd, and care Sat on his faded cheek, but under brows Of dauntless courage, and considerate pride, Waiting revenge. Milton's Paradise Lost To bow and sue for grace With suppliant knee, and deify his pow'r, Who from the terror of this arm so late Doubted his empire ; that were low indeed, That were an ignominy and shame beneath This downfall. Milton's Paradise Lou But he his wonted pride Soon recollecting, with high words, that bore Semblance of worth not substance, gently rais'd Their fainting courage, and dispell'd their fears. Milton's Paradise Lost No thought of flight, None of retreat, no unbecoming deed That argu'd fear : each on himself rely'd, As only in his arm the moment lay Of victory. Milton's Parodist Los> COURAGE. I should ill become this throne, O peers, \nd this imperial sov'reignty, adorn'd With splendour, arm'd with pow'r, if aught pro- pos'd And judg'd of public moment, in the shape Of difficulty or danger, could deter Me from attempting. Milton's Paradise Lost. Th' undaunted fiend what this might be admir'd, Admir'd, not fear'd ; God and his son except, Created thing nought valued he or shunn'd. Milton's Paradise Lost. lncens'd with indignation, Satan stood Unterrified, and like a comet burn'd, That fires the length of Ophiuchus huge In th' arctic sky, and from his horrid hair Shakes pestilence and war. Milton's Paradise Lost. Let fortune empty her whole quiver on me, I have a soul, that, like an ample shield, Can take in all, and verge enough for more : Fate was not mine, nor am I fate's : Souls know no conquerors. Dry den's Don Sebastian. 'Tis 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 ; And he that routs most pigs and cows, The formidablcst man of prowess. So th' emperor Caligula, That triumph'd o'er the British sea, Took crabs and oysters prisoners, And lobsters 'stead of cuirassiers ; Engag'd his legions in fierce bustles, With periwinkles, prawns, and mussels, And led his troops with furious gallops, To charge whole regiments of scallops ; Not like their ancient way of war, To wait on his triumphal car ; But when he went to dine or sup, More bravely ate his captives up, And left all war by his example, Reduc'd to vict'ling of a camp well. Butler. The brave man seeks not popular applause, Nor, overpowei'd with arms, deserts his cause; I 'nshixm'd, though foil'd, he does the best he can, Force is of brutes, but honour is of man. Dryden's Palemon and Arcite. Wnatc'ei betides, by destiny 'tis done, And better bear like men, than vainly seek to shun. JPryderi'8 Palemon and Arcite. Be not dismay'd — fear nurses up a danger; And resolution kills it in the birth. Phillips's Duke of Gloucester True valour, friends, on virtue founded strong, Meets all events alike. Mallei's Mustapha. The human race are sons of sorrow born ; And each must have his portion. Vulgar minds Refuse or cranch beneath their load : the brave Bear theirs without repining. Mallet and Thomson's Alfred. True valour Lies in the mind, the never-yielding purpose, Nor owns the blind award of giddy fortune. Thomson's Coriolanus. But while hope lives, Let not the generous die. 'T is late before The brave despair. Thomson's Sophonisba. Is there a man, into the lion's den Who dares intrude to snatch his young away ? Thomson's Britannia. To a mind resolved and wise, There is an impotence in misery, Which makes me smile, when 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, phrenzy and distraction. Addison's Cat* My heart is firm : There 's nought within the compass of humanity But I would dare and do. Sir A. Hunt's Julian. The wise and active conquer difficulties, By daring to attempt them : sloth and folly Shiver and shrink at sight of toil and hazard, And make the impossibility they fear. Route's Ambitious Step-Mother. True courage scorns To vent her prowess in a storm of words ; And to the valiant action speak alone. Smollett's Regicide. Not to the ensanguin'd field of death alone Is valour limited : she sits serene In the deliberate council, sagely scans The source of action ; weighs, prevents, provides, And scorns to count her glories, from the feats Of brutal force alone. Smotlett'3 Regicide. The intent and not the deed Is in our power ; and therefore who dares greatly, Does greatly. Brown's Barbarossa. COURAGE. 95 This is true courage, not the brutal force Of vulgar heroes, but the firm resolve Of virtue and of reason. He who thinks Without their aid to shine in deeds of arms, Builds on a sandy basis his renown , A dream, a vapour, or an ague-fit May make a coward of him. Whitehead' 's Roman Father. 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. As for your youth, whom blood and blows delight, Away with them ! there is not in their crew One valiant spirit. Joanna Baillie's Basil. Rocks have been shaken from their solid base ; But what shall move a firm and dauntless mind ? Joanna Baillie's Basil. I would, God knows, in a poor woodman's hut Have spent my peaceful days, and shar'd my crust With her who would have cheer'd me, rather far Than on this throne ; but being what 1 am, I '11 be it nobly. Joanna Baillie's Constantine Paleologus. Her look compos'd, and steady eye, Bespoke a matchless constancy. Scott's Marmion. My soul hath felt a secret weight, A warning of approaching fate : A priest had said, return, repent ! As well to bid that rock be rent. Firm as that flint I face mine end ; My heart may burst, but cannot bend. Scott's Rokeby. False wizard, avaunt ! I have marshall'd my clan ; Their swords are a thousand, their bosoms are one ! They are true to the last of their blood and their breath, And, like reapers, descend to the harvest of death. Campbell's Lochiel. The minstrel fell ! — but the foeman's chain Could not bring his proud soul under ; The harp he lov'd ne'er spoke again, For he tore its chords asunder ; And said " No chains shall sully thee, " Thou soul of love and bravery ! " Thy songs were made for the pure and free, u They shall never sound in slavery !" Moore. A careless thing, who plac'd his choice in chance, Nurst by the legends of his land's romance ; Eager to hope, but not less firm to bear, Acquainted with all feelings, save despair. Byron's Island. A real spirit, Should neither court neglect, nor dread to bear it. Byron " You fool ! I tell you no one means you harm " "So much the better," Juan said, " for them," Byron Nor need'st thou doubt this speech from mc, Who would but do — what he hath done. Byron's Giaour A spirit yet unquell'd and high That claims and seeks ascendancy. Byron's Giaour Whate'er my fate, I am no changeling — 'tis too late : The reed in storms may bow and quiver, Then rise again ; the tree must shiver. Byron's Siege of Corinth Have I not had my brain sear'd, my hear t riven, Hopes snapp'd, name blighted, life's life lied away? And only not to desperation driven, Because not altogether of such clay, As rots into the souls of those whom I survey. Byron's Childe Harold. The torture ! you have put me there already, Daily since I was doge ; but if you will Add the corporeal rack, you may : these limbs Will yield with age to crushing iron ; but There 's that within my heart shall strain youi engines. Byron's Doge of Venice. Fate made me what I am — may make me no- thing — But either that or nothing must I be ; I will not live degraded. Byron's Saraanapalus I had a sword — and have a breast That should have won as haught a crest As ever wav'd along the line Of all these sovereign sires of thine. Byron's Parisivn But still he fac'd the shock, Obdurate as a portion of the rock Whereoa he stood, and fix'd his levell'd gun, Dark as a sullen cloud before the sun. Byion There is strength Deep bedded in our hearts, of which we recn But little till the shafts of heaven have pierc'd Its fragile dwelling. Must not earth be rent Before her gems are found ? Mrs. HettMn» 90 COURT. Think'st thou there dwells no courage but in breasts That set their mail against the ringing spears, When helmets are struck down? Thou little knowest Of nature's marvels. Mrs. Ilemans. Ah, never shall the land forget How gush'd the life-blood of the brave, Gush'd warm with hope and courage yet, Upon the soil they fought to save ! Bryant. Like a mountain lone and bleak, With its sky-encompass'd peak, Thunder riven, Lifting its forehead bare, Through the cold and blighting air, Up to heaven, Is the soul that feels its woe, And is nerv'd to bear the blow. Mrs. Hale's Poems. COURT. Whoso in pompe of prowd estate (quoth she) Does swim, and bathe himself in courtly bliss, Does waste his dayes in dark obscuritie, And in oblivion ever buried is. Spenser's Fairy Queen. O happy they that never saw the court, Nor ever knew great men but by report. Webster's White Devil. And what are courts but camps of misery ! That do besiege men's states, and still are press'd T' assail, prevent, complot and fortify; In hope t' attain, in fear to be suppress'd : Where all with shows, and with apparency, Men seem as if for stratagems address'd : Where fortune, as the wolf, doth still prefer The foulest of the train that follows her. Daniel. Our courtiers say, all 's savage, but at court. Experience, O thou disprov'st report. Shaks. Cymb. Revolve what tales I have told you Of courts, of princes, of the tricks in war: This service is not service, so being done But being so allow'd. Shaks. Cymb. Virtue must be thrown off, 'tis a coarse garment, Too heavy fo r the sunshine of a court Dryden's Spanish Friar. onurts can give nothing to the wise and good, T