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 https://archive.org/details/dictionaryofpoet00bert_0 
 
A DICTIONARY 
 
 OF 
 
 POETICAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 

A DICTIONARY 
 
 OF 
 
 POETICAL ILLUSTRATIONS, 
 
 SPECIALLY SELECTED WITH A VIEW TO THE NEEDS OF 
 
 THE PULPIT AND PLATFORM, 
 
 # 
 
 REV. R. 
 
 BY THE 
 
 A. BERTRAM. 
 
 'Things of deep sense vve may in prose unfold, 
 
 But they move more in lofty numbers told; 
 
 By the loud trumpet which our courage aids, 
 
 We learn that sound, as well as sense, persuades.’— Waller. 
 
 * Well-sounding verses are the charms we use 
 Heroic thoughts and virtue to infuse.’— Roscommon. 
 
 NEW EDITION. 
 
 bonbon: 
 
 RICHARD D. DICKINSON, 89, FARRINGDON STREET, 
 
 OPPOSITE THE MEMORIAL HALL. 
 
 1885. 
 
Richard Clay & Sons, 
 
 BUNGAY, SUFFOLK, 
 
 and Bread Street Hitt, London. 
 

 
 Sog’.'s'l 
 E 4b<b 
 
 DICTIONARY 
 
 OF 
 
 POETICAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 I. AARON : and Christ. 
 
 See Aaron, God’s anointed priest, 
 
 Within the veil appear, 
 
 In robes of mystic meaning dress’d, 
 
 Presenting Israel’s prayer. 
 
 Through him the eye of faith descries 
 A greater priest than he— 
 
 Thus Jesus pleads above the skies 
 For you, my friends, and me. 
 
 He bears the names of all the saints, 
 
 Deep on His heart engraved ; 
 
 Attentive to the state and wants 
 Of all His love has saved. 
 
 In Him a holiness complete, 
 
 Light and perfection shine ; 
 
 And wisdom, grace, and glory meet * 
 
 A Saviour all Divine. 
 
 The blood which, as a priest, He*bears, 
 
 For sinners, is His own ; 
 
 The incense of His prayers and tears 
 Perfumes the holy throne. 
 
 In Him my weary soul has rest, 
 
 Though I am weak and vile ; 
 
 I read my name upon His breast, 
 
 And see the Father smile .—John Nezvton. 
 
 2. AARON : his death. 
 
 With trembling hand 
 He hasted to unclasp the priestly robe, 
 
 And cast it o’er his son, and on his head 
 The mitre place ; while with a feeble voice, 
 He^less’d, and bade him keep his garments pure 
 Froih blood of souls. But then, as Moses raised 
 The mystic breastplate, and that dying eye 
 Caught the radiance of those precious stones, 
 
 By whose oracular and fearful light 
 
 Jehovah had so oft His will reveal’d, 
 
 Unto the chosen tribe whom Aaron loved 
 In all their wandering—but whose promised land 
 He might not look upon—he sadly laid 
 His head upon the mountain’s turfy breast, 
 
 And with one prayer, half wrapp’d in stifled groans, 
 Gave up the ghost_ Lydia Huntley Sigourney. 
 
 3. ABEL : entering heaven. 
 
 Ten thousand times ten thousand surig 
 Loud anthems round the throne, 
 
 When lo ! a solitary tongue 
 Took up a song unknown ; 
 
 A song unknown to angel ears, 
 
 A song that spoke of vanish’d fears, 
 
 Of pardon’d sins and dried-up tears. 
 
 Not one of all the heavenly host 
 Could those high notes attain, 
 
 But spirits from a distant coast 
 United in the strain, 
 
 Till he who first began the song, 
 
 To sing alone not suffer’d long, 
 
 Was mingled with a countless throng. 
 
 And still as years are fleeting by, 
 
 The angels ever bear 
 Some newly ransom’d soul on h'.gh, 
 
 To swell the chorus there ; 
 
 And still the song shall louder grow, 
 
 Till all, redeem’d from sin and woe, 
 
 To that fair world of rapture go. 
 
 Oh grant me, Lord, a golden harp, 
 
 And tune my broken voice, 
 
 That I may sing of troubles sharp 
 Exchanged for endless joys ! 
 
 The song that ne’er was heard before 
 A sinner reach’d the heavenly shore, 
 
 But now shall sound for evermore ! 
 
 1 
 
 4SG043 
 
ABIDING 
 
 2 
 
 ABILITIES 
 
 4. ABIDING IN CHRIST. Prayer for Christ’s 
 
 presence. 
 
 That mystic word of Thine, O sovereign Lord, 
 
 Is all too pure, too high, too deep for me ; 
 
 Weary of striving, and with longing faint, 
 
 I breathe it back again in prayer to Thee. 
 
 Abide in me, I pray, and I in Thee ! 
 
 From this good hour, O, leave me nevermore ! 
 Then shall the discord cease, the wound be heal’d, 
 The life-long bleeding of the soul be o’er. 
 
 Abide in me ; o’ershadow by Thy love 
 
 Each half-form’d purpose and dark thought of sin ; 
 Quench, e’er it rise, each selfish, low desire, 
 
 And keep my soul as Thine, calm and divine. 
 
 As some rare perfume in a vase of clay 
 Pervades it with a fragrance not its own, 
 
 So, when Thou dwellest in a mortal soul, 
 
 All heaven’s own sweetness seems around it thrown. 
 
 The soul alone, like a neglected harp, 
 
 Grows out of tune, and needs that Hand Divine : 
 Dwell Thou within it, tune and touch the chords, 
 
 Till every note and string shall answer Thine. 
 
 Abide in me : there have been moments blest, 
 
 When I have heard Thy voice and felt Thy power ; 
 Then evil lost its grasp ; and passion, hush’d, 
 
 Own’d the divine enchantment of the hour. 
 
 These were but seasons, beautiful and rare ; 
 
 Abide in me, and they shall ever be ; 
 
 Fulfil at once Thy precept and my prayer, 
 
 Come, and abide in me, and I in Thee. 
 
 Harriet Beecher Stowe. 
 
 5. ABIDING IN CHRIST : our only safety. 
 
 O Lamb of God ! still keep me 
 Near to Thy wounded side ; 
 
 ’Tis only then in safety 
 And peace I can abide. 
 
 What foes and snares surround me ! 
 
 What doubts and fears within ! 
 
 The grace that sought and found me. 
 
 Alone can keep me clean. 
 
 ’Tis only in Thee hiding, 
 
 I feel my life secure,— 
 
 Only in Thee abiding, 
 
 1'he conflict can endure : 
 
 Thine arm the vict’ry gaineth 
 O’er every hateful foe ; 
 
 Thy love my heart sustaineth 
 In all its cares and woe. 
 
 Soon shall my eyes behold Thee 
 With rapture, face to face : 
 
 One half hath not been told me 
 Of all Thy power and grace ; 
 
 Thy beauty, Lord, and glory, 
 
 The wonders of Thy love, 
 
 Shall be the endless story 
 Of all Thy saints above. 
 
 6. ABILITIES. Development of 
 
 Call now to mind what high capacious powers 
 Lie folded up in man; how far beyond 
 The praise of mortals may the eternal growth 
 Of Nature, to perfection half Divine, 
 
 Expand the blooming soul! What pity, then, 
 Should sloth’s unkindly fogs depress to earth 
 Her tender blossom, choke the streams of life, 
 
 And blast her spring ! Far otherwise design’d 
 Almighty wisdom ; Nature’s happy cares 
 The obedient heart far otherwise incline. 
 
 Witness the sprightly joy when aught unknown 
 Strikes the quick sense, and wakes each active power 
 To brisker measures : witness the neglect 
 Of all familiar prospects, though beheld 
 With transport once ; the fond attentive gaze 
 Of young astonishment; the sober zeal 
 Of age, commenting on prodigious things; 
 
 For such the bounteous providence of Heaven, 
 
 In every breast implanting this desire 
 Of objects new and strange, to urge us on 
 With unremitting labour to pursue 
 Those sacred stores that wait the ripening soul, 
 
 In Truth’s exhaustless bosom.— Mark Akenside. 
 
 7. ABILITIES. Difference of 
 
 Alas ! what differs more than man from man ? 
 
 And whence this difference?—whence but from him¬ 
 self? 
 
 For, see the universal race endow’d 
 
 With the same upright form ! The sun is fix’d, 
 
 And the infinite magnificence of heaven, 
 
 Within the reach of every human eye : 
 
 The sleepless ocean murmurs in all ears; 
 
 The vernal field 'infuses fresh delight 
 
 Into all hearts. Throughout; the world of sense, 
 
 Even as an object is sublime or fair, 
 
 That object is laid open to the view 
 Without reserve or veil; and as a power 
 Is salutary, or its influence sweet, 
 
 Are each and all enabled to perceive 
 That power, that influence, by impartial law. 
 
 Gifts nobler are vouchsafed alike to all;— 
 
 Reason,—and, with that reason, smiles and tears j 
 Imagination, freedom of the will, 
 
 Conscience to guide and check ; and death 
 To be foretasted—immortality presumed. 
 
ABRAHAM 
 
 3 
 
 ABSENCE 
 
 Strange then, nor less than monstrous, might be 
 deem’d 
 
 The failure, if the Almighty, to this point 
 Liberal and undistinguishing, should hide 
 The excellence of moral qualities 
 From common understanding; leaving truth 
 And virtue, difficult, abstruse, and dark ; 
 
 Hard to be won, and only by a few : 
 
 Strange, should He deal herein with nice respects, 
 And frustrate all the rest! Believe it not: 
 
 The primal duties shine aloft like stars ; 
 
 The charities, that soothe, and heal, and bless, 
 
 Are scatter’d at the feet of man, like flowers. 
 
 The generous inclination, the just rule, 
 
 Kind wishes, and good actions, and pure thoughts— 
 No mystery is here; no special boon 
 For high and not for low—for proudly graced 
 And not for meek in heart.— Wordsworth . 
 
 8 . ABRAHAM. A Legend of 
 
 At night, upon the silent plain, 
 
 Knelt Abraham and watch’d the sky ; 
 
 When the bright evening star arose 
 He lifted up a joyful cry : 
 
 ‘ This is the Lord ! This light shall shine 
 To mark the path for me and mine.’ 
 
 But suddenly the star’s fair face 
 Sank down and left its darken’d place. 
 
 Then Abraham cried, in sore dismay, 
 
 * The Lord is not discover’d yet; 
 
 I cannot worship gods which set.’ 
 
 Then rose the moon, full orb’d and clear, 
 
 And flooded all the plain with light, 
 
 And Abraham’s heart again with joy 
 O’erflow’d at the transcendent sight. 
 
 ‘This surely is the Lord,’ he cried ; 
 
 ‘ That other light was pale beside 
 This glorious one.’ But, like the star, 
 
 The moon in the horizon far 
 Sank low and vanish’d. Then again 
 Said Abraham : ‘ This cannot be 
 My Lord. I am but lost, astray, 
 
 Unless one changeless guideth me.’ 
 
 Then came, unheralded, the dawn, 
 
 Rosy and swift from east to west ; 
 
 High rode the great triumphant sun, 
 
 And Abraham cried, ‘ O last and best 
 And sovereign light! Now I believe 
 This Lord will change not, nor deceive.’ 
 
 Each moment robb’d the day’s fair grace; 
 
 The reddening sun went down apace; 
 
 And Abraham, left in rayless night, 
 
 Cried, ‘ O my people, let us turn 
 
 And worship now the God who rules 
 These lesser lights, and bids them burn ! ’ 
 
 Helen Hunt , from the ‘ Koran l 
 
 9. ABRAHAM. The Sacrifice of 
 
 It was noon— 
 
 And Abraham on Moriah bow’d himself 
 And buried up his face and pray’d for strength. 
 He could not look upon his son, and pray ; 
 
 But with his hand upon the clustering curls 
 Of the fair, kneeling boy he pray’d that God 
 Would nerve him for that hour. 
 
 .He rose up and laid 
 
 The wood upon the altar. All was done. 
 
 He stood a moment—and a deep, quick flash 
 Pass’d o’er his countenance ; and then he nerved 
 His spirit with a bitter strength and spoke : 
 
 * Isaac ! my only son ! ’—The boy look’d up : 
 
 * Where is the lamb, my father ? ’ Oh the tones, 
 The sweet, familiar voice of a loved child!— 
 What would its music seem at such an hour ! 
 
 It was the last deep struggle. Abraham held 
 His loved, his beautiful, his only son, 
 
 And lifted up his arms and call’d on God— 
 
 And lo ! God’s angel stay’d him—and he fell 
 Upon his face and wept. 
 
 Nathaniel Parker Willie 
 
 10. ABSENCE. Effects of 
 
 All flowers will droop in absence of the sun 
 That waked their sweets.— Dryden. 
 
 Love reckons hours for months, and days for years ; 
 And every little absence is an age.— Dryden. 
 
 . \ 
 
 11. ABSENCE. Improvement of 
 
 What shall I do with all the days and hours 
 That must be counted ere I see thy face ? 
 
 How shall I charm the interval that lowers 
 
 Between this tiifie and that sweet time of grace ? 
 
 Shall I in slumber steep each weary sense,— 
 
 Weary with longing ? Shall I flee away 
 Into past days, and with some fond pretence 
 Cheat myself to forget the present day ? 
 
 Shall love for thee lay on my soul the sin 
 Of casting from me God’s great gift of time? 
 
 Shall I, these mists of memory lock’d within, 
 
 Leave and forget life’s purposes sublime ? 
 
 Oh, how or by what means may I contrive 
 
 To bring the hour that brings thee back more near ? 
 How may I teach my drooping hope to live 
 Until that blessed time, and thou art here? 
 
ABSENCE 
 
 4 
 
 ACQUIESCENCE 
 
 I’ll tell thee ; for thy sake I will lay hold 
 Of all good aims, and consecrate to thee, 
 
 In worthy deeds,.each moment that is told 
 While thou, belpved one! art far from me. 
 
 For thee I will arouse my thoughts to try 
 
 All heavenward flights, all high and holy strains ; 
 For thy dear sake I will walk patiently 
 
 Through these long hours, nor call their minutes 
 pains. ( 
 
 I will this dreary blank of absence make 
 A noble task-time ; and will therein strive 
 To follow excellence, and to o’ertake 
 
 More good than I have won since yet I live. 
 
 So may this doomed time build up in me 
 
 A thousand graces, which shall thus be thine ; 
 
 So may my love and longing hallow’d be, 
 
 And thy dear thought an influence divine. 
 
 Frances Anne Kemble. 
 
 12. ABSENCE. Similes of 
 
 A BOAT at 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 ! 
 
 Thomas Moore. 
 
 13. ABSTINENCE. Battle of 
 
 Stand up for the cold-water fight 
 ’Gainst doctor and lawyer and priest; 
 
 Stand up and do battle for right 
 
 ’Gainst foes from the West or the East; 
 ’Gainst foes from the North and the South ; 
 
 ’Gainst foes from above or beneath ; 
 
 Speak out every man with a mouth 
 The watchword of ‘Freedom or Death !’ 
 
 Away with your ‘ moderate ’ drink ! 
 
 Your infamous pleading for wine! 
 
 The tempter that lures to the brink 
 Of perdition ! The demon malign ! 
 
 The treacherous, venomous thing 
 That blushes and laughs in the bowl! 
 
 The mocker ! The adder whose sting 
 Strikes mortal through body and soul! 
 
 George Lansing Taylor. 
 
 [4. ABSTINENCE. Habit of 
 
 That monster, Custom, who all sense doth eat 
 Of habit’s devil, is angel yet in this : 
 
 That to the use of actions fair and good 
 Pie likewise gives a frock, or livery 
 
 That aptly is put on. Refrain to -night; 
 
 And that shall lend a kind of easiness 
 To the next abstinence ; the next more easy : 
 For use can almost change the stamp of nature, 
 And either curb the devil, or throw him out 
 With wondrous potency.— Shakespeare. 
 
 15. ABSTINENCE : its Rewards. 
 
 Against diseases here the strongest fence 
 Is the defensive virtue abstinence. 
 
 Robert Herrick. 
 
 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. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 16. ABSTINENCE. Labour for 
 
 Wait, abstainers, every year 
 Vindicates the glorious plan, 
 
 Time rewards each pioneer 
 
 Who clears a higher path for man. 
 
 Faster, faster, true men gather 
 Round the standard all unfurl’d, 
 
 Youthful son and hoary father 
 Haste to bear it round the world. 
 
 17. ABSTINENCE. Resolution of 
 
 Thou sparkling bowl! thou sparkling bowl! 
 
 Though lips of bards thy brim may press, 
 
 And eyes of beauty o’er thee roll, 
 
 And songs and dance thy power confess— 
 
 I will not touch thee; for there clings 
 A scorpion to thy side that stings. 
 
 John Pierpont. 
 
 18. ACCLAMATIONS. 
 
 It is a note 
 
 Of upstart greatness to observe and watch 
 For those poor trifles, which the noble mind 
 Neglects and scorns.— Johnson. 
 
 19. ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 
 
 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. 
 
 20. ACQUIESCENCE. Confiding 
 
 I KNOW not what will befall me ! God hangs a mist 
 o’er my eyes, 
 
 And o’er each step of my onward path He makes 
 new scenes to rise, * 
 
 And every joy He sends me comes as a sweet and 
 glad surprise. 
 
ACQUIESCENCE 
 
 5 
 
 ACTION 
 
 I see not a step before me as I tread the days of the 
 year, 
 
 But the past is still in God’s keeping, the future His 
 mercy shall clear, 
 
 And what looks dark in the distance, may brighten 
 as I draw near. 
 
 For perhaps the dreaded future has less bitterness 
 than I think, 
 
 The Lord may sweeten the water before I stoop to 
 drink. 
 
 Or, if Marah must be Marah, He will stand beside 
 its brink. 
 
 It may be there is waiting for the coming of my feet, 
 
 Some gift of such rare blessedness, some joy so 
 strangely sweet, 
 
 That my lips can only tremble with the thanks I 
 cannot speak. 
 
 O restful, blissful ignorance ! ’Tis blessed not to 
 know, 
 
 It keeps me quiet in those arms which will not let 
 me go, 
 
 And hushes my soul to rest on the bosom which 
 loves me so. 
 
 So I go on not knowing. I would not if I might; 
 
 I would rather walk on in the dark with God, than 
 go alone in the light; 
 
 I would rather walk with Him by faith than walk 
 alone by sight. 
 
 My heart shrinks back from trials which the future 
 may disclose, 
 
 Yet I never had a sorrow but what the dear Lord 
 chose; 
 
 So I send the coming tears back, with the whisper’d 
 word * He knows.’ 
 
 21. ACQUIESCENCE. Entire 
 
 To do, or not to do ; to have, 
 
 Or not to have, I leave to Thee; 
 
 To be, or not to be, I leave ; 
 
 Thy only will be done in me ! 
 
 All my requests are lost in one, 
 
 ‘ Father, Thy only will be done ! ’ 
 
 Welcome alike the crown or cross : 
 
 Trouble I cannot ask, nor peace, 
 
 Nor toil, nor rest; nor gain, nor loss ; 
 
 Nor joy, nor grief ; nor pain, nor ease ; 
 
 Nor life, nor death ; but ever groan, 
 
 ‘ Father, Thy only will be done ! ’ 
 
 Charles Wesley. 
 
 22. ACTION. Appointment of 
 
 What are we set on earth for? Say, to toil— 
 
 Nor seek to leave thy tending of the vines, 
 
 For all the heat o’ day, till it declines, 
 
 And Death’s mild curfew shall from work assoil. 
 God did anoint thee with His odorous oil. 
 
 To wrestle, not to reign ; and He assigns 
 All thy tears over, like pure crystallines, 
 
 For younger fellow-workers of the soil 
 To wear for amulets. So others shall 
 Take patience, labour, to their heart and hand, 
 From thy hand, and thy heart, and thy brave cheer, 
 And God’s grace fructify through thee to all. 
 
 The least flower, with a brimming cup, may stand 
 And share its dew-drop with another near. 
 
 Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 
 
 23. ACTION. Call to 
 
 Dare to do right! dare to be true ! 
 
 You have a work that no other can do ; 
 
 Do it so bravely, so kindly, so well, 
 
 Angels will hasten the story to tell. 
 
 Dare to do right! dare to be true ! 
 
 Other men’s failures can never save you. 
 
 Stand by your conscience, your, honour, your faith ; 
 Stand like a hero and battle till death. 
 
 Dare to do right ! dare to be true ! 
 
 Cannot Omnipotence carry you through ? 
 
 City and mansion and throne all in sight, 
 
 Can you not dare to be true and be right ? 
 
 Dare to do right! dare to be true ! 
 
 Keep the great judgment-seat always in view ; 
 
 Look at your work as you’ll look at it then, 
 
 Scann’d by Jehovah and angels and men. 
 
 Dare to do right 1 dare to be true ! 
 
 Prayerfully, lovingly, firmly pursue 
 
 The path by apostles and martyrs once trod, 
 
 The path of the just to the city of God. 
 
 George Lansing Taylor. 
 
 24. ACTION. Duty of 
 
 Tell me not, in mournful numbers, 
 
 Life is but an empty dream ! 
 
 For the soul is dead that slumbers, 
 
 And things are not what they seem. 
 
 Life is real ! Life is earnest! 
 
 And the grave is not its goal; 
 
 Dust thou art, to dust returnest, 
 
 Was not spoken of the soul. 
 
ACTION 
 
 6 
 
 ACTION 
 
 Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, 
 
 Is our destined end or way ; 
 
 But to act that each to-morrow 
 Find us farther than to-day. 
 
 ■Art is long and Time is fleeting, 
 
 And our hearts, though stout and brave, 
 Still, like muffled drums, are beating 
 Funeral marches to the grave. 
 
 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 ! 
 
 Trust no Future, howe’er pleasant! 
 
 Let the dead Past bury its dead ! 
 
 Act—act in the living Present! 
 
 Heart within, and God o’erhead ! 
 
 Lives of great men all remind us 
 We can make our lives sublime, 
 
 And, departing, leave behind us 
 Footprints on the sands of time ;— 
 
 Footprints, that perhaps another, 
 
 Sailing o’er life’s solemn main, 
 
 A forlorn and shipwreck’d brother, 
 
 Seeing, shall take heart again. 
 
 Let us, then, be up and doing, 
 
 With a heart for any fate ; 
 
 Still achieving, still pursuing, 
 
 Learn to labour and to wait. 
 
 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. 
 
 [REPLY TO LONGFELLOW’S ‘PSALM OF LIFE.’] 
 
 ’Tis no theme for joyful numbers : 
 
 Life must be a fatal dream, 
 
 If the soul in darkness slumbers, 
 
 Christ omitted from our scheme. 
 
 Though thy work-day life be earnest, 
 
 If some phantom be the goal, 
 
 When thou to the dust returnest, 
 
 Second death awaits thy soul. 
 
 Though thou act that each to-morrow 
 Finds thee farther than to-day, 
 
 Yet it may be, man, that sorrow 
 Is thy destined end and way. 
 
 Tedious art and moments fleeting 
 Sadden not the truly brave ; 
 
 Christians, at their glorious meeting, 
 
 Live and learn beyond the grave. 
 
 Rather be dumb driven cattle 
 Than ignore our higher life, 
 
 Rushing godless into battle, 
 
 Single-handed in the strife. 
 
 Lives of good men all remind us 
 God can make our lives sublime : 
 
 Otherwise we leave behind us 
 Wrecks upon the sands of time. 
 
 Wrecks !—not trophies—mark, my brother— 
 Waifs too often seen in vain— 
 
 Burning beacons, which to smother 
 Is to earn the curse of Cain. 
 
 Men may work and wait for ever, 
 
 Toiling early, toiling late ; 
 
 May be earnest, patient, clever, 
 
 And, like stoics, dare their fate. 
 
 But if here we have our portion, 
 
 If our glory we pursue, 
 
 Every scheme is an abortion, 
 
 Dry rot lurks in all we do.— J. Mackay , B.D. 
 
 25. ACTION. End of 
 
 Go, silly worm, drudge, trudge, and travel, 
 
 Despising pain, so thou may’st gain 
 
 Some honour or some golden gravel; 
 
 But death the while, to fill his number, 
 
 With sudden call takes thee from all, 
 
 To prove thy days but dream and slumber. 
 
 Joshua Sylvester. 
 
 26. ACTION. God’s Favour of 
 
 When Thou dost favour any action, 
 
 It runs, it flies ; 
 
 All things concur to give it a perfection. 
 
 That which had but two legs before, 
 
 When Thou dost bless, hath twelve : one wheel 
 doth rise 
 
 To twenty then, or more. 
 
 But when Thou dost on business blow, 
 
 It hangs, it clogs : 
 
 Not all the teams of Albion in a row 
 
 v 
 
 Can hale or draw it out of door. 
 
 Legs are but stumps, and Pharo’s wheels but logs, 
 
 And struggling hinders more.— George Herbert. 
 
 27. ACTION. Haste to 
 
 Life is too short to waste 
 In critic peep or cynic bark, 
 
 Quarrel or reprimand : 
 
 ’Twill soon be dark ; 
 
 Ay ! mind thine own aim, and 
 
 God speed the mark !— R. W. Emerson. 
 
ACTION 
 
 7 
 
 ACTION 
 
 28. ACTION. Life in 
 
 Festus. The value of a thought cannot be told ; 
 But it is clearly worth a thousand lives, 
 
 Like many men’s. And yet men love to live, 
 
 As if mere life were worth their living for. 
 
 What but perdition will it be to most ? 
 
 Life’s more than breath and the quick round of blood. 
 It is a great spirit and a busy heart. 
 
 The coward and the small in soul scarce do live. 
 One generous feeling—one great thought—one deed 
 Of good, ere night, would make life longer seem 
 Than if each year might number a thousand days— 
 Spent as is this by nations of mankind. 
 
 We live in deeds, not years ; in thoughts, not breaths ; 
 In feelings, not in figures on a dial. 
 
 We should count time by heart-throbs. He most 
 lives 
 
 Who thinks most,—feels the noblest,—acts the best. 
 
 Philip James Bailey . 
 
 29. ACTION. Present 
 
 Heart gazing mournfully 
 Back through past years— 
 
 Bringing sad memories, 
 
 Laden with tears— 
 
 ' Life’s hours wasted, 
 
 Talents abused, 
 
 Bright opportunities 
 Blindly refused— 
 
 Close up the record 
 
 Fraught with such pain ; 
 
 Years that have vanish’d 
 Return not again. 
 
 Grasp thou the Present , 
 
 Be earnest and bold— 
 
 Fleeting its moments, 
 
 More precious than gold. 
 
 Watch and fight bravely 
 Against sloth and sin ; 
 
 Pray for the Spirit, 
 
 The victory to win. 
 
 Cometh the future 
 Veiled and slow ? 
 
 Go forth to greet her, 
 
 For weal or for woe. 
 
 Bringeth she gladness ? 
 
 Praise thou the Lord. 
 
 Bringeth she sadness ? 
 
 Bow to His word. 
 
 O’er Past and o’er Future 
 Dim shadows recline. 
 
 Heart, be thou manful; 
 
 The Present is thine ! 
 
 30. ACTION. Quality of 
 
 Redeem we time—its loss we dearly buy. 
 
 No blank, no trifle, nature made or meant. 
 
 Virtue, or purposed virtue, still be thine : 
 
 This cancels thy complaint at once ; this leaves 
 In act no trifle, and no blank in time. 
 
 This greatens, fills, immortalizes all; 
 
 This, the bless’d art of turning all to gold ; 
 
 This, the good heart’s prerogative, to raise 
 A royal tribute from the poorest hours : 
 
 Immense revenue ! every moment pays. 
 
 If nothing more than purpose is thy power, 
 
 Thy purpose firm is equal to the deed ; 
 
 Who does the best his circumstance allows 
 Does well, acts nobly ; angels could no more. 
 
 Young. 
 
 31. ACTION. Record of 
 
 Though history, on her faded scrolls, 
 
 Fragments of facts and wrecks of names enrolls, 
 Time’s indefatigable finger writes 
 Men’s meanest actions on their souls, 
 
 In lines which not himself can blot: 
 
 These the last day shall bring to light, 
 
 Though through long centuries forgot, 
 
 When hearts and sepulchres are bared to sight. 
 
 Ah ! then shall each of Adam’s race. 
 
 In that concentred instant, trace, 
 
 Upon the tablet of his mind, 
 
 His whole existence in a thought combined, 
 Thenceforth to part no more, but be 
 Impictured on his memory ; 
 
 —As in the image-chamber of the eye, 
 
 Seen at a glance, in clear perspective, lie 
 Myriads of forms of ocean, earth, and sky. 
 
 James Montgomery. 
 
 32. ACTION. Resolution in 
 
 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. 
 
 33. ACTION. Room for 
 
 Through the blue Immense 
 
 Strike out, all swimmers ! cling not in the way 
 
 Of one another, so to sink, but learn 
 
 The strong man’s impulse, catch the fresh’ning spray 
 
 He throws up in his motions, and discern 
 
 By his clear, westering eye, the time of day. 
 
 Thou, God, hast set us worthy gifts to earn, 
 
 Besides Thy heaven and Thee! and when I say 
 
ACTIO AS 
 
 8 
 
 ACTIVITY 
 
 There’s room here for the weakest man alive 
 To live and die,—there’s room too, I repeat, 
 
 For all the strongest to live well and strive, 
 
 Their own way, by their individual heat, 
 
 Like a new bee-swarm leaving the old hive, 
 
 Despite the wax which tempts so violet-sweet. 
 
 Then let the living live, the dead retain 
 Their grave-cold flowers ! through honour’s best sup¬ 
 plied, 
 
 By bringing actions to prove theirs not vain. 
 
 Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 
 
 34. ACTIONS. Good 
 
 Good actions crown themselves with lasting bays, 
 Who deserves well needs not another’s praise. 
 
 Heath. 
 
 If thou doest ill, the joy fades, not the pains; 
 
 If well, the pain doth fade, the joy remains. 
 
 George Herbert. 
 
 35. ACTIONS : how their moral quality is to be 
 
 determined. 
 
 The body sins not, ’tis the will 
 That makes the action good or ill. 
 
 Herrick. 
 
 Of every noble action, the intent 
 
 Is to give worth reward,— vice punishment. 
 
 Beaumont and Fletcher. 
 
 36. ACTIONS: must not be indiscreet. 
 
 For good and well must in our actions meet; 
 Wicked is not much worse than indiscreet. . 
 
 Donne. 
 
 37. ACTIONS. Sudden 
 
 Actions rare and sudden, do commonly 
 Proceed from fierce necessity : or else 
 From some oblique design, which is ashamed 
 To show itself in the public road. 
 
 Sir William Davenant. 
 
 38. ACTIVITY: admired. 
 
 Celerity is never more admired 
 Than by the negligent.— Ben Jonson. 
 
 39. ACTIVITY : characteristic of the wise. 
 
 Wise men ne’er sit and wail their loss, 
 
 But cheerly seek how to redress their harm. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 40. ACTIVITY. Christian 
 
 WoULDST thou from sorrow find a sweet relief? 
 
 Or is thy heart oppress’d with woes untold? 
 
 Balm wouldst thou gather for corroding grief? 
 
 Pour blessings round thee like a shower of gold. 
 
 ’Tis when the rose is wrapt in many a fold, 
 
 Close to its heart, the worm is wasting there 
 Its life and beauty; not when, all unroll’d, 
 
 Leaf after leaf, its bosom, rich and fair, 
 
 Breathes freely its perfumes throughout the ambient 
 air. 
 
 Wake, thou that sleepest in enchanted bowers, 
 
 Lest these lost years should haunt thee on the night 
 When death is waiting for thy number’d hours 
 To take their swift and everlasting flight; 
 
 Wake ere the earth-born charm unnerve thee quite, 
 And be thy thoughts to work divine address’d : 
 
 Do something—do it soon—with all thy might; 
 
 An angel’s wing would droop if long at rest, 
 
 And God himself, inactive, were no longer blest. 
 
 Some high or humble enterprise of good 
 Contemplate till it shall possess thy mind, 
 
 Become thy study, pastime, rest, and food, 
 
 And kindle in thy heart a flame refined. 
 
 Pray Heaven for firmness thy whole soul to bind 
 To this thy purpose—to begin, pursue, 
 
 With thoughts all fix’d and feelings purely kind; 
 Strength to complete, and with delight review, 
 
 And grace to give the praise where all is ever due. 
 
 Rouse to some work of high and holy love, 
 
 And thou an angel’s happiness shalt know, 
 
 Shalt bless the earth while in the world above : 
 
 The good begun by thee shall onward flow 
 In many a branching stream, and wider grow ; 
 
 The seed that, in these few and fleeting hours, 
 
 Thy hands unsparing and unwearied sow, 
 
 Shall deck thy grave with amaranthine flowers, 
 
 And yield thee fruits divine in heaven’s immortal 
 bowers.— Carlos Wilcox. 
 
 41. ACTIVITY : how much it accomplishes. 
 
 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. 
 
 42. ACTIVITY. Incentives to 
 
 Make haste, O man, to live, 
 
 For thou so soon must die ; 
 
 Time hurries past thee like the breeze; 
 
 How swift its moments fly ! 
 
 To breathe, and wake, and sleep, 
 
 To smile, to sigh, to grieve ; 
 
 To move in idleness through earth, 
 
 This, this is not to live ! 
 
ACTIVITY 
 
 9 
 
 ADAM AND EVE 
 
 Make haste, O man, to do 
 Whatever must be done; 
 
 Thou hast no time to lose in sloth, 
 
 Thy day will soon be gone. 
 
 Up then with speed, and work; 
 
 Fling ease and self away ; 
 
 This is no time for thee to sleep, 
 
 Up, watch, and work, and pray! 
 
 The useful, not the great, 
 
 The thing that never dies ; 
 
 The silent toil that is not lost,— 
 
 Set these before thine eyes. 
 
 The seed, whose leaf and flower, 
 
 Though poor in human sight, 
 
 Brings forth at last the eternal fruit, 
 
 Sow thou by day and night. 
 
 Make haste, O man, to live, 
 
 Thy time is almost o’er : 
 
 O sleep not, dream not, but arise, 
 
 The Judge is at the door. 
 
 Make haste, O man, to live ! 
 
 Horatius Bonar. 
 
 43. ACTIVITY : its necessity. 
 
 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.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Take the instant way ; 
 
 For honour travels in a strait so narrow, 
 
 Where one but 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 vou hindmost.— Shakespeare. 
 
 44. ACTIVITY. Mental 
 
 There is a fire-fly in the southern clime 
 Which shineth only when upon the wing ; 
 
 So it is with the mind : when once we rest, 
 
 We darken. On ! said God unto the soul 
 As to the earth, for ever. On it goes, 
 
 A rejoicing native of the infinite— 
 
 As a bird of air—an orb of heaven. 
 
 Philip James Bailey. 
 
 45. ACTIVITY : must not be excessive. 
 
 Run if you like, but try to keep your breath ; 
 Work like a man, but don’t be work’d to death. 
 
 0 . W. Holmes. 
 
 46. ACTIVITY : resents delay. 
 
 How slow the time 
 
 To the warm soul, that, in the very instant 
 It forms, would execute a great design ! 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 47. ACTIVITY. Thrift of 
 
 Good striving 
 Brings thriving. 
 
 Better a dog who works 
 
 Than a lion who shirks.— Oriental. 
 
 48. ADAM AND EVE. Description of 
 
 Two of far nobler shape, erect and tall, 
 
 Godlike erect, with native honour clad 
 In naked majesty, seem’d lords of all, 
 
 And worthy seem’d : for in their looks divine, 
 
 The image of their glorious Maker, shone 
 Truth, wisdom, sanctitude severe and pure 
 (Severe, but in true filial freedom placed), 
 
 Whence true authority in men ; though both 
 Not equal, as their sex not equal seem’d: 
 
 For contemplation he, and valour form d ; 
 
 For softness she, and sweet attractive grace , 
 
 He for God only, she for God in him : 
 
 His fair large front and eye sublime declared 
 
 Absolute rule. 
 
 .The loveliest pair 
 
 That ever since in love’s embraces met : 
 
 Adam the goodliest man of men since bom 
 His sons, the fairest of her daughters Eve. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 49. ADAM AND EVE. Transgression of 
 
 With fatal and disastrous ease 
 Lifting her hand into the clustering boughs, 
 
 She touch’d, she took, she tasted. One-small taste 
 Sufficed. Her eyes were open’d ; and she seem’d, 
 The moorings cut which bound her to the shore, 
 Launch’d on an ocean of delights. Alas, 
 
 Perfidious sea, on which the fairest bark 
 E’er floated suffer’d foulest wrong and wreck ! 
 Awhile as in a dream she stood, but soon 
 Her scatter’d thoughts recall’d, and from the boughs 
 Selecting one loaden with luscious fruit, 
 
 She pluck’d it bower’d in leaves, and took her way 
 To seek her absent lord. Plim soon she met 
 Returning with no laggard steps ; for when 
 The serpent slid with such strange haste away 
 The loitering minutes hours appear’d, and then 
 A strange solicitude unknown before 
 Began to creep around his br 
 And he retraced his path. But when he saw 
 
ADAPTATION 
 
 io 
 
 ADVENT 
 
 Eve with flush’d cheek and agitated mien 
 Advancing, in her hand that fatal branch, 
 
 His heart sank, and his lip quiver’d. And when 
 She told her tale, the serpent’s honey’d words, 
 
 Her brief refusal, his repeated suit, 
 
 Her answer, his reply, her touch, her taste, 
 
 Then first upon the virgin soil of earth 
 Fell human tears, presage of myriad showers. 
 
 But when again with pleading eye and hand, 
 
 Silent but most persuasive eloquence, 
 
 She pray’d him share with her the fruit she bore 
 Then Adam wail’d aloud : 
 
 * O Eve, my wife, 
 
 Heaven’s last, Heaven’s dearest gift, what hast thou 
 done? 
 
 Me miserable ! Thou hast undone thyself, 
 
 Thyself and me ; for if thou diest I die, 
 
 Bone of my bone, flesh of my very flesh,— 
 
 Eve, in whose veins my heart’s best juices flow. 
 
 What can I do, what suffer for thee ? Say 
 I rigorously refuse this fatal fruit, 
 
 What, shall I see thy warm and gentle limbs 
 Stiffen m death, and live myself? How live? 
 
 Alone ? Or pei'adventure God will take 
 Another rib, and form another Eve ? 
 
 Nay, we are one. My heart, myself am thine. 
 
 Our Maker made us one. Shall I unmake 
 His union ? and transfer from heart to heart 
 My very life ? Far higher I deem of love, 
 
 No transferable perishable thing, 
 
 But flowing from its secret fountain, God, 
 
 Like God immortal and immutable. 
 
 But oh, what follows ? Adam, be thou sure 
 Of thy inflexible resolve—death, death : 
 
 Both cannot live, and therefore both must die.’ 
 
 So saying, from her hand he took and ate, 
 
 Not circumvented by the serpent’s fraud, 
 
 But blindly overcome by human love, 
 
 Love’s semblance, which belied its name, denying 
 The Great Creator for the creature’s sake. 
 
 Edward Henry Bickersieth. 
 
 50. ADAPTATION. Utility of 
 
 A SMITH at the loom and a weaver at the forge were 
 but sorry craftsmen : 
 
 And a ship that saileth on every wind never shall 
 reach her port; 
 
 Yet there be thousands among men who heed not 
 the leaning of their talents, 
 
 But, cutting against the grain, toil on to no good 
 end; 
 
 And the light of a thoughtful spirit is quenched 
 beneath the bushel of commerce, 
 
 While meaner plodding minds are driven up the 
 mountain of philosophy; 
 
 The cedar withereth on a wall, while the house-leek 
 is fattening in a hotbed ; 
 
 And the dock, with its rank leaves, hideth the sun 
 from violets. 
 
 To everything a fitting place, a proper, honourable 
 use; 
 
 The humblest measure of mind is bright in its 
 humbler sphere; 
 
 The blind at an easel, the palsied with a graver, the 
 halt making for the goal, 
 
 The deaf ear tuning psaltery, the stammerer discours¬ 
 ing eloquence,— 
 
 What wonder if all fail ? the shaft flieth wide of its 
 mark 
 
 Alike if itself be crooked, or the bow be strung awry. 
 
 Tapper. 
 
 51. ADIEU. Import of 
 
 Adieu ! adieu ! what means adieu ! 
 
 My soul to God commending you. 
 
 Then ’tis the dearest, sweetest word 
 Love ever spoke or ever heard ; 
 
 And though but used when meetings cease, 
 
 And friend from friend departs in peace ; 
 
 That sweetest, dearest word would tell 
 
 Not less for welcome than farewell. 
 
 James Montgomery. 
 
 52. ADMIRATION: and Esteem. 
 
 They say that esteem is a diamond so bright, 
 
 It enkindles the eye that by sorrow is shaded; 
 
 But glory to me is the sun’s dazzling light, 
 
 That illumines a world which in darkness had 
 
 faded. 
 
 Esteem is the dew-drop that freshens the flow er 5 
 Admiration, the arch’d hue's that splendidly shine. 
 The one is a sprinkle, the other a shower 
 
 Let mine be the rainbow, the dew may be thine. 
 
 Ja?nes Gates Percival, 
 
 53. ADVENT. Christ’s first 
 
 Away with sorrow’s sigh, 
 
 Our prayers are heard on high ; 
 
 And through heaven’s crystal door, 
 
 On this our earthly floor, 
 
 Comes meek-eyed Peace to walk with poor mortality. 
 
 In dead of night profound, 
 
 There breaks a seraph sound 
 Of never-ending morn; 
 
 The Lord of glory bom 
 Within a holy grot on this our sullen ground. 
 
ADVENT 
 
 ADVENT 
 
 11 
 
 O sight of strange surprise 
 That fills our gazing eyes ! 
 
 A manger coldly strew’d, 
 
 And swaddling-bands so rude, 
 
 A leaning mother poor, and child that helpless lies. 
 
 Art Thou, O wondrous sight, 
 
 Of lights the very Light, 
 
 Who holdest in Thy hand 
 The sky and sea and land,— 
 
 Who than the glorious heavens art more exceeding 
 bright ? 
 
 ’Tis so : Faith darts before, 
 
 And, through the cloud drawn o’er, 
 
 She sees the God of all, 
 
 Where angels prostrate fall, 
 
 Adoring, tremble still, and trembling still adore. 
 
 Within us, babe Divine, 
 
 Be bom, and make us Thine; 
 
 Within our souls reveal 
 Thy love and power to heal; 
 
 Be born, and make our hearts Thy cradle and Thy 
 shrine .—Isaac Williams. 
 
 54. ADVENT, THE SECOND : its approach. 
 
 O’er the distant mountains breaking 
 Comes the redd’ning dawn of day, 
 
 Rise, my soul, from sleep awaking, 
 
 Rise and sing, and watch and pray : 
 
 ’Tis thy Saviour 
 On His bright returning way. 
 
 O Thou long-expected ! weary 
 Waits mine anxious soul for Thee, 
 
 Life is dark and earth is dreary 
 Where Thy light I do not see; 
 
 O my Saviour! 
 
 When wilt <Thou return to me ? 
 
 Long, too long, in sin and sadness, 
 
 Far away from Thee I pine, 
 
 When, O when, shall I the gladness 
 Of Thy Spirit feel in mine ? 
 
 O my Saviour ! 
 
 When shall I be wholly Thine ? 
 
 Nearer is my soul’s salvation, 
 
 Spent the night, the day at hand ; 
 
 Keep me in my lowly station, 
 
 Watching for Thee, till I stand, 
 
 O my Saviour! 
 
 In Thy bright and promised land. 
 
 With my lamp well trimm’d and burning, 
 
 Swift to hear, and slow to roam, 
 
 Watching for Thy glad returning 
 y To restore me to my home, 
 
 Come, my Saviour ! 
 
 O my Saviour, quickly come ! 
 
 55. ADVENT, THE SECOND : importance of 
 preparation for it. 
 
 Behold, the Bridegroom cometh in the middle of 
 the night, 
 
 And blest is he whose loins are girt, whose lamp is 
 burning bright; 
 
 But woe to that dull servant whom the Master shall 
 surprise 
 
 With lamp untrimm’d, unburning, and with slumber 
 in his eyes ! 
 
 Do thou, my soul, beware, beware, lest thou in sleep 
 sink down, 
 
 Lest thou be given o’er to death, and lose the golden 
 crown ; 
 
 But see that thou be sober, with watchful eyes, and 
 thus 
 
 Cry ‘ Holy, holy, holy God, have mercy upon us ! ’ 
 
 That day, the day of fear, shall come : my soul, 
 slack not thy toil, 
 
 But light thy lamp, and feed it well, and make it 
 bright with oil; 
 
 Who knowest not how soon may sound the cry at 
 eventide, 
 
 ‘ Behold, the Bridegroom comes ! Arise ! Go forth 
 to meet the Bride.’ 
 
 Beware, my soul; beware, beware, lest thou in 
 slumber lie, 
 
 And, like the five, remain without, and knock and 
 vainly cry ; 
 
 But watch, and bear thy lamp undimm’d, and Christ 
 shall gird thee on 
 
 His own bright wedding-robe of light,—the glory of 
 the Son. — Tr.from the Greek by G. Moultrie. 
 
 56. ADVENT, THE SECOND : its nearness. 
 
 Bride of the Lamb, awake ! awake! 
 
 Why sleep for sorrow now ? 
 
 The hope of glory, Christ, is thine, 
 
 A child of glory thou. 
 
 Thy spirit, through the lonely night, 
 
 From earthly joy apart, 
 
 Hath sigh’d for one that’s far away, 
 
 The Bridegroom of thy heart. 
 
 But see ! the night is waning fast, 
 
 The breaking mom is near ; 
 
 And Jesus comes, with voice of love, 
 
 Thy drooping heart to cheer. 
 
 He comes— for oh ! His yearning heart 
 No more can bear delay— 
 
 To scenes of full, unmingled joy, 
 
 To call His bride away. 
 
ADVENT 
 
 12 
 
 ADVENT 
 
 This earth, the scene of all His woe, 
 
 A homeless wild to thee, 
 
 Full soon, upon His heavenly throne, 
 
 Its rightful King shall see. 
 
 Thou, too, shalt reign,—He will not wear 
 His crown of joy alone ; 
 
 And earth His royal bride shall see 
 Beside Him, on the throne. 
 
 Then weep no more : ’tis all thine own, 
 
 His crown, His joy divine ; 
 
 And, sweeter far than all beside, 
 
 He, He Himself, is thine !— Denny. 
 
 57. ADVENT, THE SECOND. Prayer for 
 
 Lord, come away, 
 
 Why dost Thou stay ? 
 
 Thy road is ready : and Thy paths, made straight, 
 With longing expectation, wait 
 The consecration of Thy beauteous feet. 
 
 Ride on triumphantly ; behold we lay 
 Our lusts and proud wills in the way. 
 
 Hosanna ! welcome to our hearts, Lord, here 
 Thou hast a temple too, and full as dear 
 As that of Zion ; and as full of sin. 
 
 Nothing but thieves and robbers dwell therein. 
 Enter, and chase them forth, and cleanse the floor. 
 Crucify them, that they may nevermore 
 Profane that holy place, 
 
 Where Thou hast chose to set Thy face 
 And then if our stiff tongues shall be 
 Mute in the prajses of Thy Deity, 
 
 The stones out of the temple wall 
 Shall cry aloud, and call 
 Hosanna I and Thy glorious footsteps greet. 
 
 Jere?7iy Taylor. 
 
 ■58. ADVENT, THE SECOND. Prayer for 
 
 Come, Lord, and tarry not: 
 
 Bring the long-looked-for day, 
 
 Oh why these years of waiting here, 
 
 These ages of delay ? 
 
 Come, for creation groans, 
 
 Come, for the corn is ripe, •< 
 
 Put in Thy sickle now, 
 
 Reap the great harvest of the earth— 
 
 Sower and reaper Thou ! * 
 
 Come, and make all things new, 
 
 Build up this ruin’d earth, 
 
 Restore our faded Paradise, 
 
 Creation’s second birth. 
 
 Come, and begin Thy reign 
 Of everlasting peace, 
 
 Come, take the kingdom to Thyself, 
 
 Great King of Righteousness. 
 
 Horatius Bonar. 
 
 59. ADVENT, THE SECOND. Prayer for 
 
 The Church has waited long 
 Her absent Lord to see ; 
 
 And still in loneliness she waits, 
 
 A friendless stranger she. 
 
 Age after age has gone. 
 
 Sun after sun has set, 
 
 And still in weeds of widowhood 
 She weeps a mourner yet. 
 
 Come then, Lord Jesus, come I 
 
 i 
 
 Saint after saint on earth 
 
 Has lived, and loved, and died ; 
 
 And as they left us one by one, 
 
 We laid them side by side ; 
 
 We laid them down to sleep, 
 
 But not in hope forlorn ; 
 
 We laid them but to ripen there, 
 
 Till the last glorious mom. 
 
 Come then, Lord Jesus, come! 
 
 The serpent’s brood increase, 
 
 The powers of hell grow bold, 
 
 The conflict thickens, faith is low, 
 
 And love is waxing cold. , 
 
 How long, O Lord, our God, 
 
 Holy and true and good, 
 
 Wilt Thou not judge Thy suffering church, 
 
 Her sighs and tears and blood ? 
 
 Come then, Lord Jesus, come ! 
 
 We long to hear Thy voice, 
 
 Impatient of Thy stay, 
 
 Worn out with these long years of ill, 
 These ages of delay. 
 
 Come, for Thy foes are strong ; 
 
 With taunting lip they say, 
 
 ‘ Where is the promised Advent now, 
 And where the dreaded day?’ 
 
 To see Thee face to face, 
 
 To share Thy crown and glory then, 
 As now we share Thy grace. 
 
 Should not the loving Bride 
 
 The absent Bridegroom mourn ? 
 Should she not wear the weeds of grief 
 Until her Lord return? 
 
 Come then, Lord Jesus, come ! 
 
ADVENT 
 
 *3 
 
 ADVENT 
 
 The whole creation groans, 
 
 And waits to hear that voice 
 That shall restore her comeliness, 
 
 And make her wastes rejoice. 
 
 Come, Lord, and wipe away 
 The curse, the sin, the stain, 
 
 And make this blighted world of ours 
 Thine own fair world again. 
 
 Come then, Lord Jesus, come! 
 
 H. Bonar. 
 
 60. ADVENT, THE SECOND. Prayer for 
 
 How long, O Lord our Saviour, 
 
 Wilt Thou remain away ? t 
 
 Our hearts are growing weary 
 Of Thy so long delay : 
 
 Oh ! when shall come the moment, 
 
 When, brighter far than morn, 
 
 The sunshine of Thy glory 
 Shall on Thy people dawn ? 
 
 How long, O gracious Master, 
 
 Wilt Thou Thy household leave ? 
 
 So long hast Thou now tarried. 
 
 Few Thy return believe : 
 
 Immersed in sloth and folly, 
 
 Thy servants, Lord, we see ; 
 
 And few of them stand ready 
 With joy to welcome Thee. 
 
 How long, O Heavenly Bridegroom, 
 
 How long wilt Thou delay ? 
 
 And yet how few are grieving 
 That Thou dost absent stay; 
 
 Thy very bride her portion 
 And calling hath forgot, 
 
 And seeks for ease and glory, 
 
 Where Thou, her Lord, art not. 
 
 Oh ! wake Thy slumbering virgins ; 
 
 Send forth the solemn cry, 
 
 Let all Thy saints repeat it, 
 
 ‘ The Bridegroom draweth nigh! ’ 
 
 May all our lamps be burning, 
 
 Our loins all girded be, 
 
 Each longing heart preparing 
 With joy Thy face to see ! 
 
 61. ADVEN r, THE SECOND. Waiting for 
 
 The Advent mom shines cold and clear, 
 
 These Advent nights are long ; 
 
 Our lamps have bum’d year after year, 
 
 And still their flame is strong. 
 
 Watchman, what of the night ? we cry, 
 Heartsick with hope deferr’d : 
 
 No speaking signs are in the sky, 
 
 Is still the watchman’s word. 
 
 The porter watches at the gate, 
 
 The servants watch within ; 
 
 The watch is long betimes, and late, 
 
 The prize is slow to win : 
 
 Watchman, what of the night? But still 
 His answer sounds the same, — 
 
 No day-break tops the utmost hill, 
 
 Nor pale our lamps of flame. 
 
 One to another, hear them speak. 
 
 The patient virgins wise,— 
 
 Surely He is not far to seek, 
 
 All night we watch and rise ; 
 
 The days are evil looking back, 
 
 The coming days are dim ; 
 
 Yet count we not His promise slack, 
 
 But watch and wait for Him. 
 
 One with another, soul with soul, 
 
 They kindle fire from fire ; 
 
 Friends watch us who have touch’d the goal ; 
 
 They urge us, Come up higher ! 
 
 With them shall rest our way-sore feet, 
 
 With them is built our home, 
 
 With Christ,—they sweet, but He most sweet, 
 Sweeter than honeycomb. 
 
 There no more parting, no more pain; 
 
 The distant ones brought near ; 
 
 The lost so long are found again,— 
 
 Long lost, but longer dear : 
 
 Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard, 
 
 Nor heart conceived, that rest; 
 
 With them, our good things long deferr’d ; 
 With Jesus Christ, our best. 
 
 We weep, because the night is long; 
 
 We laugh, for day shall rise ; 
 
 We sing a slow contented song, 
 
 And knock at Paradise : 
 
 Weeping, we hold Him fast, who wept 
 For us ; we hold Him fast, 
 
 And will not let Him go except 
 He bless us first or last. 
 
 Weeping, we hold Him fast to-night; 
 
 We will not let Him go, 
 
 Till day-break smite our wearied sight, 
 
 And summer smite the snow. 
 
 Then figs shall bud, and dove with dove 
 Shall coo the livelong day ; 
 
 Then He shall say, Arise, my love ! 
 
 My fair one, come away ! 
 
 Christina G. Rossetti. 
 
ADVENT 
 
 14 
 
 ADVENT 
 
 62. ADVENT, THE SECOND. Waiting for 
 
 What of the night, watchman, what of the night? 
 
 The wintry gale sweeps by, 
 
 The thick shadows fall, and the night-bird’s call 
 Sounds mournfully through the sky. 
 
 The night is dark, it is long and drear, 
 
 But who, while others sleep, 
 
 Is that little band, who together stand, 
 
 And their patient vigils keep ? 
 
 All awake is the strained eye, 
 
 And awake the listening ear : 
 
 For their Lord they wait, and watch at the gate 
 His chariot-wheels to hear. 
 
 Long have they waited—that little band, 
 
 And ever and anon 
 
 To fancy’s eye the dawn seem’d nigh,— 
 
 The night seem’d almost gone. 
 
 And often, through the midnight gale, 
 
 They thought they heard at last 
 The sound of His train, and they listen’d again,— 
 And the sound died away on the blast. 
 
 Ages have roll’d, and one by one 
 Those watchers have pass’d away ; 
 
 They heard the call on their glad ear fall, 
 
 And they hasten’d to obey. 
 
 And in their place their children stand, 
 
 And still their vigils keep, 
 
 They watch and pray for the dawn of day, 
 
 For this is no time for sleep. 
 
 What of the night, watchman, what of the night ? 
 
 Though the wintry gales sweep by, 
 
 When the darkest hour begins to lower 
 We know that the dawn is nigh. 
 
 Courage, ye servants of the Lord, 
 
 The night is almost o’er ; 
 
 Your Master will come and call you home, 
 
 To weep and to watch no more. 
 
 63. ADVENT, THE SECOND. Waiting for 
 
 ‘ It may be in the evening, 
 
 When the work of the day is done, 
 
 And you have time to sit in the twilight, 
 
 And watch the sinking sun, 
 
 While the long, bright day dies slowly 
 Over the sea, 
 
 And the hour grows quiet and holy, 
 
 With thoughts of Me ;. 
 
 While you hear the little children 
 Passing along the street, 
 
 Among those thronging footsteps 
 May come the sound of My feet. 
 
 Therefore I tell you, watch 
 
 By the light of the evening star, 
 
 When the room is growing dusky 
 As the clouds afar 
 Let the door be on the latch 
 In your home, 
 
 For it may be through the gloaming 
 I will come ! 
 
 ‘ It may be when the midnight 
 Is heavy upon the land, 
 
 And the black waves lying dumbly 
 Along the sand ; 
 
 When the moonless night draws close, 
 g And the lights are out in the house, 
 
 When the fires burn low and red, 
 
 And the watch is ticking loudly 
 Beside the bed : 
 
 Though you sleep, tired out, on your couch, 
 Still your heart must wake, and watch 
 In the dark room, 
 
 For it may be that at midnight 
 I will come ! 
 
 ‘ It may be at the cock-crow, 
 
 When the night is dying slowly 
 In the sky, 
 
 And the sea looks calm and holy, 
 
 Waiting for the dawn 
 Of the golden sun, 
 
 Which draweth nigh ; 
 
 When the mists are on the valleys, shading 
 The rivers chill, 
 
 And my morning star is fading, fading 
 Over the hill: 
 
 Behold, I say unto you, watch ! 
 
 Let the door be on the latch 
 In your home ; 
 
 In the chill before the dawning, 
 
 Between the night and morning, 
 
 I may come! 
 
 ‘ It may be in the morning, 
 
 When the sun is bright and strong, 
 
 And the dew is glittering sharply 
 Over the sweet, green lawn ; 
 
 When the waves are laughing loudly 
 Along the shore, 
 
 And gay birds are singing sweetly 
 About the door; 
 
 With the long day’s work before you, 
 
 You rise up with the sun, 
 
 And your dear ones come to talk a little 
 Of all that must be done, 
 
 But remember, / may be the next 
 To come in at the door, 
 
ADVERSITY 
 
 15 
 
 ADVERSITY 
 
 To call you from all your busy work 
 For evermore! 
 
 As you work, your heart must watch, 
 
 For the door is on the latch 
 In your room, 
 
 And it may be in the morning 
 I will come ! ’ 
 
 So I am watching, quietly, 
 
 Every day ! 
 
 Whenever the sun shines brightly, 
 
 I rise and say, 
 
 Surely it is the shining of His face ! 
 
 And look unto the gates of His high place 
 Beyond the sea; 
 
 For I know He is coming shortly 
 To summon me. 
 
 And when a shadow falls across the window 
 Of my room, 
 
 Where I am working my appointed task, 
 
 I lift my head to watch the door, and ask, 
 
 If He is come ; 
 
 And an angel answers sweetly 
 In my home, 
 
 * Only a few more shadows, 
 
 And He will come ! ’ 
 
 64. ADVERSITY. Aggravation of 
 
 Of all the horrid, hideous notes of woe, 
 
 Sadder than owl-songs on the midnight blast, 
 
 Is that portentous phrase, ‘ I told you so, ’ 
 
 Utter’d by friends, those prophets of the past, 
 Who, ’stead of saying what you now should do, 
 Own they foresaw that you would fall at last, 
 And solace your slight lapse ’gainst ‘ bonos mores,’ 
 With a long memorandum of old stories. — Byron. 
 
 65. ADVERSITY. Application of 
 
 I ASK 
 
 What He would have this evil do for me ? 
 
 What is its mission ? What its misery ? 
 
 What golden fruit lies hidden in its husk ? 
 
 How shall it nurse my virtue, nerve my will, 
 Chasten my passions, purify my love, 
 
 And make me in some goodly sense like Him 
 Who bore the cross of evil while He lived, 
 
 Who hung and bled upon it when He died, 
 
 And now in glory wears the victor’s crown. 
 
 J. G. Holland. 
 
 66. ADVERSITY : awakens Pity. 
 
 When a great mind falls, 
 
 The nobler nature of man’s gen’rous heart 
 
 Doth bea’- 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 alter’d state lament, and love him fall’n. 
 
 Joanna Baillie. 
 
 67. ADVERSITY. Benefit of 
 
 ’Mid pleasure, plenty, and success, 
 
 Freely we take from Him who lends : 
 
 We boast the blessing we possess, 
 
 Yet scarcely thank the One who sends. 
 
 But let affliction pour its smart, 
 
 How soon we quail beneath the rod ! 
 
 With shatter’d pride, and prostrate heart, 
 
 We seek the long-forgotten God. 
 
 Eliza Cook. 
 
 Winter brings blessings, so the chill 
 Of dark adversity ;—from its cold grasp 
 The soul revives re-animate,—more strong; 
 And better arm’d.— F. A. Mackay. 
 
 68. ADVERSITY. Comfort in 
 
 The man, perhaps, 
 
 Thou pitiest, draws his comfort from distress. 
 That mind so poised, and centred in the good 
 Supreme, so kindled with devotion’s flame, 
 Might, with prosperity’s enchanting cup 
 Inebriate, have forgot the All-giving hand ; 
 
 Might on earth’s vain and transitory joys 
 Have built its sole felicity, nor e’er 
 Wing’d a desire beyond .—George Bally. 
 
 69. ADVERSITY. Constant 
 
 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. 
 
 Brandon. 
 
 70. ADVERSITY. Correction of 
 
 When urged by strong temptation to the brink 
 Of guilt and ruin, stands the virtuous mind, 
 
ADVERSITY 
 
 16 
 
 AFFECT A TION 
 
 With scarce a step between; all-pitying Heaven, 
 Severe in mercy, chastening in its love, 
 
 Ofttimes in dark and awful visitation, 
 
 Doth interpose, and leads the wanderer back 
 To the straight path, to be for ever after 
 A firm, undaunted, onward-bearing traveller, 
 
 Strong in humility, who swerves no more. 
 
 Joanna Baillie. 
 
 71. ADVERSITY. Cup of 
 
 My God once mix’d a harsh cup, for me to drink 
 from it, 
 
 And it was full of acrid bitterness intensest; 
 
 The black and nauseating draught did make me 
 shrink from it, 
 
 And cry, ‘ O Thou who every draught alike dis- 
 pensest. 
 
 This cup of anguish sore, bid me not quaff of it, 
 
 Or pour away the dregs and the deadliest half of it! ’ 
 But still the cup He held ; and seeing He ordain’d it, 
 One glance at Him—it turn’d to sweetness as I 
 drain’d it.— Oriental Tr. by IV. R. Alger . 
 
 72. ADVERSITY. Diverse effects of 
 
 Some souls we see 
 Grow hard and stiffen with adversity. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 The rugged metal of the mine 
 Must bum before its surface shine; 
 
 But plunged within the furnace flame, 
 
 It bends and melts—though still the same. 
 
 Byron . 
 
 73. ADVERSITY. Gain of 
 
 The good man suffers but to gain, 
 
 And every virtue springs from pain : 
 
 As aromatic plants bestow 
 No spicy fragrance while they grow ; 
 
 But, crush’d or trodden to the ground, 
 
 Diffuse their balmy sweets around. 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 He who hath never warr’d with misery 
 Nor ever tugg’d with fortune and distress, 
 
 Hath had n’ occasion, nor no field to try 
 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. 
 
 By adversity are wrought 
 The greatest works of admiration, 
 
 And all the fair examples of renown 
 Out of distress and misery are grown. 
 
 Daniel. 
 
 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. 
 
 Who has not known ill fortune, never knew 
 Himself, or his own virtue. 
 
 Mallett and Thotnson. 
 
 74. ADVERSITY. Resignation in 
 
 Nay then farewell ! 
 
 I have touch’d the highest point of all my greatness; 
 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.— Shakespeare. 
 
 75. ADVERSITY. Reviewing 
 
 When we are young, this year we call the worst 
 That we can know ; this bitter day is cursed, 
 
 And no more such our hearts can bear, we say. 
 
 But yet, as time from us falls fast away, 
 
 There comes a day, son, when all this is fair 
 And sweet to what, still living, we must bear. 
 
 ‘ Better’d is bale by bale that follows it , ’ 
 
 The saw saith.— William Morris. 
 
 76. ADVERSITY : transient. 
 
 After the storm, a calm ; 
 
 After the bruise, a balm; 
 
 For the ill brings good in the Lord’s own time, 
 And the sigh becomes the psalm. 
 
 After the drought, the dew; 
 
 After the cloud, the blue ; 
 
 For the sky will smile in the sun’s good time, 
 And the earth grow glad and new. 
 
 Mrs Crawford. 
 
 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. 
 
 Thomsen. 
 
 77. AFFECTATION. Ministerial 
 
 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 scom ; 
 
AFFECTION 
 
 17 
 
 AFFECTION 
 
 Object of my implacable disgust. 
 
 What! will a man play tricks, will he indulge 
 A silly, fond conceit of his fair form 
 And just proportion, fashionable mien, 
 
 And pretty face, in presence of his God ? 
 
 Or will he seek to dazzle me with tropes, 
 
 As with the diamond on his lily hand, 
 
 And play his brilliant parts before my eyes, 
 
 When I am hungiy for the bread of life ? 
 
 He mocks his Maker, prostitutes and shames 
 His noble office, and, instead of truth, 
 
 Displaying his own beauty, starves his flock. 
 Therefore avaunt all attitude, and stare, 
 
 And start theatric, practised at the glass ! 
 
 I seek divine simplicity in him 
 
 Who handles things divine; and all besides, 
 
 Though learn’d with labour, and though much 
 admired 
 
 By curious eyes and judgments ill-inform’d, 
 
 To me is odious as the nasal twang 
 Heard at conventicle, where worthy men, 
 iMisled by custom, strain celestial themes 
 Through the press’d nostril, spectacle-bestrid. 
 
 Ccrwfier. 
 
 78. AFFECTION. Elevating 
 
 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 fasten’d mind to mind. 
 
 ’Tis 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 . 
 
 79 - AFFECTION. Instinctive 
 
 My sweet wee nursling! thou art sweet to me 
 As sun to flowers, or honey to the bee — 
 
 Music in summer bowers—the freshening stream 
 To bright wings dipping from the sultry beam— 
 Hope to the mourner, to the weary rest— 
 
 To the young dreamer, visions of the blest! 
 
 Yes ! thou’rt a charm!—a most mysterious spell ! 
 Birds, bees, and flowers, can just as ably tell 
 Why sunshine, scent, and streams their pleasures be, 
 As thy young mother why she dotes on thee 
 With such unmeasured, fond intensity ! 
 
 Breathing and crying are thy only speech— 
 
 But, oh ! for me, what eloquence hath each ! 
 
 Sounds of my first-born !—how my heart they thrill, 
 Like the sweet babblings of a hidden rill ; 
 
 A well of future blessedness art thou ! 
 
 My morning star, my crown of gladness now ! 
 
 Mrs Richardson. 
 
 80. AFFECTION. Maternal 
 
 When first thou earnest, gentle, shy, and fond, 
 
 My eldest born, first hope, and dearest treasure, 
 My heart received thee with a joy beyond 
 All that it yet had felt of earthly pleasure ! 
 
 Nor thought that any love again might be 
 So deep and strong as that I felt for thee. 
 
 Then thou, my merry love,—bold in thy glee, 
 Under the bough, or by the firelight dancing, 
 With thy sweet temper, and thy spirit free,— 
 
 Didst come, as restless as a bird’s wing glancing, 
 Full of a wild and irrepressible mirth, 
 
 Like a young sunbeam to the gladden’d earth! 
 
 * . 
 
 At length thou earnest,—thou, the last and least, 
 Nicknamed ‘the Emperor’ by thy laughing 
 brothers, 
 
 Because a haughty spirit swell’d thy breast, 
 
 And thou didst seek to rule and sway the others, 
 Mingling with every playful infant wile 
 A mimic majesty that made us smile. 
 
 . 
 
 Different from both ! yet each succeeding claim 
 I, that all other love had been forswearing, 
 Forthwith admitted, equal and the same ; 
 
 Nor injured either by this love’s comparing, 
 
 Nor stole a fraction for the newer call,—- 
 But in the mother’s heart found room for all! 
 
 Caroline E. Norton. 
 
 81. AFFECTION. Paternal 
 
 Between the dark and the daylight, 
 
 When night is beginning to lower, 
 
 Comes a pause in the day’s occupations, 
 
 That is known as the children’s hour. 
 
 I hear in the chamber above me 
 The patter of little feet, 
 
 The sound of a door that is open’d, 
 
 And voices soft and sweet 
 
 From my study I see in the lamplight, 
 Descending the broad hall stair, 
 
 Grave Alice and laughing Allegra, 
 
 And Edith with golden hair. 
 
 A whisper and then a silence ; 
 
 Yet I know by their merry eyes 
 They are plotting and planning together 
 To take me by surprise. 
 
 A sudden rush from the stairway, 
 
 A sudden raid from the hall, 
 
 By three doors left unguarded, 
 
 They enter my castle wall. 
 
 2 
 
AFFECTION 
 
 18 
 
 AFFLICTION 
 
 They climb up into my turret, 
 
 O’er the arms and back of my chair ; 
 
 If I try to escape, they surround me: 
 
 They seem to be everywhere. 
 
 They almost devour me with kisses, 
 
 Their arms about me intwine, 
 
 Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen 
 In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine. 
 
 Do you think, O blue-eyed banditti, 
 
 Because you have scaled the wall, 
 
 Such an old mustache as I am 
 Is not a match for you all ? 
 
 I have you fast in my fortress, 
 
 And will not let you depart, 
 
 But put you into the dungeon 
 In the round tower of my heart. 
 
 And there will I keep you for ever, 
 
 Yes, for ever and a day, 
 
 Till the walls shall crumble to ruin, 
 
 And moulder in dust away. 
 
 H. W. Longfellow. 
 
 82. AFFECTION. Sacrifices of 
 
 Is it indeed so ? If I lay here dead, 
 
 Wouldst thou miss any life in losing mine? 
 
 And would the sun for thee more coldly shine, 
 Because of grave-damps falling round my head? 
 
 I marvell’d, my Beloved, when I read 
 Thy thought so in the letter. I am thine— 
 
 But ... so much to thee ? Can I pour thy wine 
 While my hands tremble ? Then my soul, instead 
 Of dreams of death, resumes life’s lower range. 
 
 Then, love me, Love ! look on me . . . breathe on 
 me ! 
 
 As brighter ladies do not count it strange, 
 
 For love, to give up acres and degree, 
 
 I yield the grave for thy sake, and exchange 
 My near, sweet view of Heaven, for earth with thee ! 
 
 Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 
 
 83. AFFECTION. Sudden 
 
 The first time that the sun rose on thine oath 
 To love me, I look’d forward to the moon 
 To slacken all those bonds which seem’d too soon 
 And quickly tied to make a lasting troth. 
 Quick-loving hearts, I thought, may quickly loathe ; 
 And looking on myself, I seem’d not one 
 For such man’s love!—more like an out of tune 
 Worn viol, a good singer would be wroth 
 To spoil his song with, and which, snatch’d in haste, 
 Is laid down at the firs* ill-soundine note. 
 
 I did not wrong myself so, but I placed 
 A wrong on thee. For perfect strains may float 
 ’Neath master-hands, from instruments defaced,— 
 And great souls, at one stroke, may do and dote. 
 
 Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 
 
 84. AFFECTION. Tenacious 
 
 In my boy’s loud laughter ringing, 
 
 In the sigh more soft than singing 
 Of my baby-girl that nestles up into this mortal 
 breast, 
 
 And every voice most dear 
 Comes a whisper — 1 Rest not here.’ 
 
 And the rest Thou art preparing, is it best, Lord, 
 is it best ? 
 
 ‘ Lord, a little, little longer! ’ 
 
 Sobs the earth-love, growing stronger : 
 
 He will miss me, and go mourning through his 
 solitary days. 
 
 And heaven were scarcely heaven 
 If these lambs which Thou hast given 
 Were to slip out of our keeping and be lost in the 
 world’s ways. 
 
 Lord, it is not fear of dying 
 Nor an impious denying 
 
 Of Thy will, which for evermore on earth, in 
 heaven, be done: 
 
 But the love that desperate clings 
 Unto these my precious things 
 In the beauty of the daylight, and the glory of the 
 sun. 
 
 Ah, Thou still art calling, calling, 
 
 With a soft voice unappalling ; 
 
 And it vibrates in far circles through the everlasting 
 years ; 
 
 When Thou knockest, even so! 
 
 I will arise and go.— D. M. Muloch Craik. 
 
 85. AFFECTIONS. Strong 
 
 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. 
 
 86. AFFLICTION. Comfort in 
 
 ‘ Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall find 
 Comfort and joy ! ’ Though flesh and blood rebel 
 ’Gainst heavenward thoughts, and the vex’d spirit 
 swell 
 
 With anxious tossings, still, the veil behind 
 Of earth-born mists, the faith-directed mind 
 
AFFLICTION 
 
 19 
 
 AFFLICTION 
 
 Sees throned in cloudless light the Invisible, 
 
 At whose right hand delights in fulness dwell, 
 And bliss for ever lasting. Be resign’d, 
 
 1 hou child of sorrow, to His sovereign will; 
 
 Drink, as He bids, the bitter cup, and bear 
 Thy cross in patience ! From the holy hill 
 
 A gleam shall cheer thee, till, safe-harbour’d there, 
 Thou feel how faintly earth’s severest ill 
 
 May with the weight of heavenly joys compare ! 
 
 Mant. 
 
 87. AFFLICTION. Compensation for 
 
 Deem not that they are blest alone 
 Whose days a peaceful tenor keep , 
 
 The Anointed Son of God makes known 
 A blessing for the eyes that weep. 
 
 The light of smiles shall fill again 
 The lids that overflow with tears. 
 
 And weary hours of woe and pain 
 Are promises of happier years. 
 
 Oh, there are days of sunny rest 
 For every dark and troubled night, 
 
 And Grief may bide an evening guest, 
 
 But Joy shall come with early light. 
 
 And thou, who, o’er thy friend’s low bier, 
 
 Dost shed the bitter drops like rain, 
 
 Hope that a brighter, happier sphere 
 Will give him to thy arms again. 
 
 Nor let the good man’s trust depart, 
 
 Though life its common gifts deny ; 
 
 Though with a pierced and bleeding heart, 
 
 And spurn’d of men, he goes to die. 
 
 For God hath mark’d each sorrowing day, 
 
 And number’d every secret tear, 
 
 And heaven’s long age of bliss shall pay 
 For all His children suffer here.— Bryant. 
 
 Now let us thank th’ Eternal Power ; convinced 
 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. 
 
 88. AFFLICTION : develops excellencies. 
 
 Within this leaf, to every eye 
 So little worth, doth hidden lie 
 Most rare and subtle fragrancy. 
 
 Wouldst thou its secret strength unbind? 
 
 Crush it, and thou shalt perfume find 
 Sweet as Arabia’s spicy wind. 
 
 In this dull stone, so poor, and bare 
 Of shape or lustre, patient care 
 Will find for thee a jewel rare ; 
 
 But first must skilful hands essay 
 With file and flint to clear away 
 The film which hides its fire from day. 
 
 This leaf? this stone? It is thy heart: 
 
 It must be crush’d by pain and smart, 
 
 It must be cleansed by sorrow’s art, 
 
 Ere it will yield a fragrance sweet, 
 
 Ere it will shine, a jewel meet 
 To lay before thy dear Lord’s feet. 
 
 Wilberforce. 
 
 Affliction is the wholesome soil of virtue ; 
 Where patience, honour, sweet humanity, 
 
 Calm fortitude, take root, and strongly flourish. 
 
 Mallet. 
 
 89. AFFLICTION. Enduring 
 
 Pain’s furnace-heat within me quivers— 
 
 God’s breath upon the fire doth blow, 
 
 And all my heart in anguish shivers, 
 
 And trembles at the fiery glow ; 
 
 And yet I whisper, ‘ As God will! ’ 
 
 And in His hottest fire hold still. 
 
 He comes and lays my heart, all heated, 
 
 On the bare anvil, minded so 
 Into His own fair shape to beat it 
 
 With His great hammer, blow on blow ; 
 
 And yet I whisper, ‘ As God will! ’ 
 
 And at His heaviest blows hold still. 
 
 He takes my soften’d heart and beats it— 
 
 The sparks fly off at every blow ; 
 
 He turns it o’er and o’er, and heats it, 
 
 And lets it cool, and makes it glow ; 
 
 And yet I whisper, ‘ As God will! ’ 
 
 And in His mighty hand hold still. 
 
 Why should I murmur ? for the sorrow 
 Thus only longer-lived would be ; 
 
 Its end may come, and will to-morrow, 
 
 When God has done His work in me ; 
 
 So I say, trusting, ‘ As God will! ’ 
 
 And, trusting, to the end hold still. 
 
 He kindles for my profit purely 
 Affliction’s glowing, fiery brand ; 
 
 And all His heaviest blows are surely 
 Inflicted by a Master-hand ; 
 
 So I say, praying, ‘ As God will ! ’ 
 
 And hope in Him and suffer still.— Sturm. 
 
AFFLICTION 
 
 20 
 
 AFFLICTION 
 
 go. AFFLICTION. Eucharist of 
 
 Above the seas of gold and glass 
 
 The Christ, transfigured, stands to-day ; 
 
 Below, in troubled currents, pass 
 The tidal fates of man away. 
 
 Through that environ’d blessedness 
 Our sorrow cannot wholly rise. 
 
 Nor his swift sympathy redress 
 The anguish that in Nature lies. 
 
 Yet mindful from His banquet sends 
 The guest of God a cup of wine, 
 
 And shares a morsel with His friends, 
 
 Who, wondering, wait without the shrine. 
 
 Julia Ward Howe. 
 
 oi. AFFLICTION. Furnace of 
 
 He that from dross would win the precious ore, 
 Bends o’er the crucible an earnest eye, 
 
 The subtle, searching process to explore, 
 
 Lest the one brilliant moment should pass by, 
 When in the molten silver’s virgin mass 
 He meets his pictured face as in a glass. 
 
 Thus in God's furnace are His children tried ; 
 
 Thrice happy they who to the end endure ! 
 
 But who the fiery trial may abide ? 
 
 Who from the crucible come forth so pure, 
 
 That He, whose eyes of flame look through the 
 whole, 
 
 May see His image perfect in the soul ? 
 
 Not with an evanescent glimpse alone, 
 
 As in that mirror the refiner’s face, 
 
 But, stampt with heaven’s broad signet, there be 
 shown 
 
 Immanuel’s features, full of truth and grace,— 
 And round that seal of love this motto be, 
 
 ‘ Not for a moment, but eternity ! ’ 
 
 James Montgomery. 
 
 92. AFFLICTION : God’s messenger. 
 
 Count each affliction, whether light or grave, 
 
 God’s messenger sent down to thee. Do thou 
 With courtesy receive him : rise and bow ; 
 
 And, ere his shadow pass thy threshold, crave 
 Permission first his heavenly feet to lave, 
 
 Then lay before him all thou hast. Allow 
 No cloud of passion to usurp thy brow, 
 
 Or mar thy hospitality, no wave 
 
 Of mortal tumult to obliterate 
 
 Thy soul’s marmoreal calmness. Grief should be 
 
 Like joy, majestic, equable, sedate, 
 
 Confirming, cleansing, raising, making free, 
 
 Strong to consume small troubles ; to commend 
 Great thoughts, grave thoughts, thoughts lasting to 
 the end .—Aubrey De Vere. 
 
 93. AFFLICTION. Heroism under 
 
 "Like a ball that bounds 
 According to the force with which ’twas thrown, 
 
 So in affliction’s violence, he that’s wise. 
 
 The more he’s cast down, will the higher rise. 
 
 Nabb. 
 
 Afflictions may press me, they cannot destroy, 
 
 One glimpse of Thy love turns them all into joy ; 
 And the bitterest tears, if Thou smile but on them, 
 Like dew in the sunshine, grow diamond and gem. 
 
 Let doubt, then, and danger my progress oppose, 
 They only make heaven more sweet at the close; 
 Come joy or come sorrow, whate’er may befall, 
 
 An hour with my God will make up for it all. 
 
 A scrip on my back, and a staff in my hand, 
 
 I march on in haste through an enemy’s land ; 
 
 The road may be rough, but it cannot be long, 
 
 And I’ll smooth it with hope, and cheer it with song. 
 
 Lyte. 
 
 94. AFFLICTION : its results. 
 
 The more the cross, the nearer heaven ;— 
 Where is no cross there God is not; 
 
 The world’s turmoil doth hide PI is face, 
 
 Hell, sense, and self, make Him forgot. 
 
 Oh ! where God draws a blessed lot, 
 
 His mercy some dark lines doth trace. 
 
 The more the cross, the better Christian 
 God lays the touchstone to each soul; 
 
 How many a garden must lie waste 
 Did not a tear-storm o’er it roll! 
 
 Refining grief, a living coal, 
 
 Upon the Christian’s heart is placed. 
 
 The more the cross, the more believing;— 
 
 In desert lands the palm trees grow ; 
 
 And when the grape is strongly press’d, 
 
 Then doth its sweetness overflow; 
 
 And strength lies hid in every woe, 
 
 As pearls do in the salt wave rest. 
 
 The more the cross, the more the praying 
 The bruised plant yields sweetest balm ; 
 
 Plan doth not seek to find the pole 
 In quiet seas and steady calms ; 
 
 And how should we have David’s psalms 
 Had he not had a troubled soul ? 
 
 The more the cross, the more the longing 
 Out of the vale man upward goes ; 
 
AFFLICTION 
 
 21 
 
 AGE 
 
 Whose pathway through the desert lies, 
 
 He craves the land where Jordan flows. 
 
 W hen here the dove finds no repose, 
 
 Straight to the ark with joy she flies. 
 
 # 
 
 The more the cross, the sweeter death;— 
 For man rejoices then to die ; 
 
 When as his body is laid down 
 Much pain and sorrow are laid by ; 
 
 His cross there on his grave doth lie— 
 
 See man doth wear the victor’s crown ! 
 
 Schmolk. 
 
 95 - AFFLICTION : necessary. 
 
 Source of my life’s refreshing springs, 
 
 Whose presence in my heart sustains me, 
 
 Thy love appoints me pleasant things, 
 
 Thy mercy orders all that pains me. 
 
 If loving hearts were never lonely, 
 
 If all they wish might always be, 
 
 Accepting what they look for only, 
 
 They might be glad, but not in Thee. 
 
 We need as much the cross to bear, 
 
 As air to breathe—as light to see— 
 
 It draws us to Thy side in prayer, 
 
 It binds us to our strength in Thee. 
 
 9b. AFP LICTION. Refuge in 
 
 O THOU who dry’st the mourner’s tear, 
 
 How dark this world would be, 
 
 If, when deceived and wounded here, 
 
 We could not fly to Thee! 
 
 The friends who in our sunshine live, 
 
 When winter comes, are flown, 
 
 And he who has but tears to give, 
 
 Must weep those tears alone. 
 
 But Thou wilt heal that broken heart, 
 
 Which, like the plants that throw 
 Their fragrance from the wounded part, 
 Breathes sweetness out of woe. 
 
 When joy no longer soothes or cheers, 
 
 And e’en the hope that threw 
 A moment s sparkle o’er our tears, 
 
 Is dimm’d and vanish’d too ! 
 
 Oh, who would bear life’s stormy doom, 
 
 Did not Thy wing of love 
 Come brightly wafting through the gloom 
 Our peace-branch from above ! 
 
 Then soirow, touch d by "Thee, grows bright 
 With more than rapture’s ray ; 
 
 As darkness shows us worlds of light 
 We never saw by day !— Moore. 
 
 In the dark winter of affliction’s hour, 
 
 When summer friends and pleasures haste away, 
 
 And the wreck’d heart perceives how frail each power 
 It made a refuge, and believed a stay; 
 
 When man all wild and weak is seen to be— 
 
 Theie s none like Thee, O Lord! there’s none like 
 Thee! 
 
 Thou in adversity canst be a sun ; 
 
 Thou hast a healing balm, a sheltering tower, 
 
 The peace, the truth, the life, the love of One, 
 
 P* or wound, nor grief, nor storm can overpower ! 
 Gifts of a King; gifts frequent and yet free— 
 
 There s none like Thee, O Lord ! none, none like 
 Thee !*— Jewsbury. 
 
 97. AFFLICTION: should awaken compassion. 
 
 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. 
 
 98. AFFLICTION : tests character. 
 
 Perfumes, the more they’re chafed the more 
 they render 
 
 Their pleasant scents ; and so affliction 
 Expresseth virtue fully, whether true 
 Or else adulterate. — Webster. 
 
 99 - AFFLICTION. Welcoming 
 
 Come then, Affliction, if my Father bids, 
 
 And be my frowning friend : a friend that frowns 
 Is better than a smiling enemy. 
 
 We welcome clouds that bring the former rain. 
 Though they the present prospect blacken round, 
 
 And shade the beauties of the opening year, 
 
 That, by their stores enrich’d, the earth may yield 
 A fruitful summer and a plenteous crop. —Swaine. 
 
 100. AGE. The Dead 
 
 The epoch ends, the world is still. 
 
 The age has talk’d and work’d its fill, 
 
 The famous orators have done, 
 
 The famous poets sung and gone, 
 
 The famous men of war have fouuht. 
 
 The famous speculators thought, 
 
 The famous players, sculptors, wrought, 
 
 The famous painters fill’d their wall, 
 
 The famous critics judged it all. 
 
 The combatants are parted now, 
 
 Uphung the spear, unbent the bow, 
 
 The puissant crown’d, the weak laid low! 
 
AGE 
 
 22 
 
 AGE 
 
 And in the after-silence sweet, 
 
 Now strife is hush’d, our ears doth meet, 
 Ascending pure, the bell-like fame, 
 
 Of this or that down-trodden name, 
 
 Delicate spirits, push’d away 
 In the hot-press of the noon-day. 
 
 And o’er the plain, where the dead age 
 Did its now silent warfare wage,— 
 
 O’er that wide plain, now wrapt in gloom, 
 Where many a splendour finds its tomb, 
 
 Many spent fames and faller mights,— 
 
 The one or two immortal lights, 
 
 Rise slowly up into the sky 
 To shine there everlastingly, 
 
 Like stars over the bounding hill. 
 
 The epoch ends, the world is still. 
 
 Matthew Arnold. 
 
 101. AGE. The New 
 
 Thundering and bursting 
 In torrents, in waves,— 
 
 Carolling and shouting 
 Over tombs, amid graves,— 
 
 See on the cumber’d plain 
 Clearing a stage, 
 
 Scattering the past about, 
 
 Comes the new age ! 
 
 Bards make new poems, 
 
 Thinkers new schools, 
 
 Statesmen new systems, 
 
 Critics new rules ! 
 
 All things begin again ; 
 
 Life is their prize ; 
 
 Earth with their deeds they fill, 
 
 Fill with their cries !—Matthew Arnold. 
 
 102. AGE. Accompaniments of 
 
 I have lived long enough : my way of life 
 Is fall’n into the sear, the yellow leaf: 
 
 And that which should accompany old age, 
 
 As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, 
 
 I must not look to have. — Shakespeare. 
 
 103. AGE. Approach of 
 
 Six years had pass’d, and forty ere the six, 
 
 When Time began to play his usual tricks ; 
 
 The locks once comely in a virgin’s sight, 
 
 Locks of pure brown, display’d the encroaching 
 white; 
 
 The blood, once fervid, now to cool began, 
 
 And Time’s strong pressure to subdue the man. 
 
 I rode or walk’d as I was wont before, 
 
 But now the bounding spirit was no more ; 
 
 A moderate pace would now my body heat, 
 
 A walk of moderate length distress my feet. 
 
 I show’d my stranger guest those hills sublime, 
 
 But said, ‘ The view is poor, we need not climb.’ 
 
 At a friend’s mansion I began to dread 
 
 The cold neat parlour, and the gay glazed bed ; 
 
 At home I felt a more decided taste, 
 
 And must have all things in my order placed. 
 
 I ceased to hunt; my horses pleased me less, 
 
 My dinner more; I learn’d to play at chess. 
 
 I took my dog and gun, but saw the brute 
 Was disappointed that I did not shoot. 
 
 My morning walks I now could bear to lose, 
 
 And bless’d the shower that gave me not to choose. 
 In fact, I felt a languor stealing on ; 
 
 The active arm, the agile hand, were gone ; 
 
 Small daily actions into habits grew, 
 
 And new dislike to forms and fashions new. 
 
 I loved my trees in order to dispose ; 
 
 I number’d peaches, look’d how stocks arose ; 
 
 Told the same story oft,—in short, began to prose. 
 
 Crabbe. 
 
 Age by degrees invisibly doth creep, 
 
 Nor do we seem to die, but fall asleep. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 Thus daily changing, by degrees I’d waste, 
 
 Still quitting ground by unperceived decay, 
 
 And steal myself from life, and melt away. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 104. AGE : comes to all. 
 
 ’Tis greatly wise to know before we’re told, 
 
 The melancholy news that we grow old.— Young. 
 
 105. AGE : its effects. 
 
 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 : 
 
 Anv. ife’s enchanted cup but sparkles near the 
 brim. — Byron. 
 
 106. AGE. Genial 
 
 Our nature here is not unlike our wine ; 
 
 Some sorts, when old, continue brisk and fine : 
 
 So age’s gravity may seem severe, 
 
 But nothing harsh or bitter ought t’ appear. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 107. AGE : not to be regretted. 
 
 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 
 
AGE 
 
 23 
 
 AGE 
 
 108. AGE. Peaceful 
 
 So mayst thou live, till, like ripe fruit, thou drop 
 Into thy mother’s lap ; or be with ease 
 Gather’d, not harshly pluck’d.— Milton. 
 
 So peaceful shalt thou end thy blissful days, 
 
 And steal thyself from life by slow decays.— Pope. 
 
 The remnant of his d&ys he safely past, 
 
 Nor found they lagg’d too slow, nor flew too fast; 
 He made his wish with his estate comply, 
 
 Joyful to live, yet not afraid to die.— Prior. 
 
 An age that melts in unperceived decay, 
 
 And glides in modest innocence away. 
 
 Johnson. 
 
 How blest is he who crowns, in shades like these, 
 A youth of labour with an age of ease ! 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 But an old age serene and bright 
 And lovely as a Lapland night 
 Shall lead thee to thy grave. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 109. AGE. Proprieties of 
 
 \ outh no less becomes 
 The light and careless livery that it wears, 
 
 Than settled age his sables and his weeds, 
 Importing health and graveness.— Shakespeare. 
 
 I know thee not, old man : fall to thy prayers : 
 How ill white hairs become a fool and jester ! 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Now leave these joys, unsuiting to thy age, 
 
 To a fresh comer, and resign the stage.— Dryden. 
 
 \ ou season still with sports your serious hours, 
 
 For age but tastes of pleasures, youth devours. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 Learn to live well, or fairly make your will ; 
 
 \ ou ve play d, and loved, 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, 
 
 W horn folly pleases, and whose follies please.— Pope. 
 
 Those trifles wherein children take delight 
 Grow nauseous to the young man’s appetite ; 
 
 And from those gaieties our youth requires 
 To exercise their minds, our age retires. 
 
 De 7 iham. 
 
 no. AGE. Virtuous 
 
 Age sits with decent grace upon his visage, 
 
 And worthily becomes his silver locks ; 
 
 He wears the marks of many years well spent, 
 
 Of viitue, truth well tried, and wise experience. 
 
 Rowe. 
 
 Of no distemper, of no blast he died, 
 
 But fell like autumn fruit that mellow’d long ; 
 Even wonder d at, because he dropt no sooner. 
 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. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 Virtue, not rolling suns, the mind matures ; 
 
 That life is long which answers life’s great end : 
 The time that bears no fruit deserves no name ; 
 The man of wisdom is the man of years.— Young. 
 
 ill. AGE. Wisdom of 
 
 And may at last my weary age 
 Find out the peaceful hermitage, 
 
 The hairy gown and mossy cell, * 
 
 Where I may sit and rightly spell 
 Of every star that heaven doth show 
 And every herb that sips the dew ; 
 
 Till old experience do attain 
 To something like prophetic strain.— Milton. 
 
 The seas are quiet when the winds are o’er; 
 
 So calm are we when passions are no more! 
 
 For then we know how vain it is to boast 
 Of fleeting things, so certain to be lost. 
 
 Clouds of affection from our younger eyes 
 Conceal that emptiness which age descries : 
 
 The soul’s dark cottage, batter’d and decay’d, 
 
 Lets in new light through chinks that time has made. 
 
 Stronger by weakness, wiser men become 
 As they draw near to their eternal home ; 
 
 Lea\ ing the old, both worlds at once they view, 
 
 That stand upon the threshold of the new.— Waller. 
 
 ’Tis the sunset of life gives me mystical lore, 
 
 And coming events cast their shadows before. 
 
 Ca? 7 ipbell. 
 
 112. AGE. Youth and 
 
 When I was young ! Ah, woeful When ! 
 
 Ah, for the change ’twixt Now and Then ! 
 
 This breathing house, not built with hands, 
 
 This body, that does me grievous wrong, 
 
 O’er airy cliffs and glittering sands 
 How lightly then it flash’d alon^ 1 
 Like those trim skiffs, unknown of yore, 
 
 On winding lakes and rivers wide, 
 
 That ask no aid of sail or oar, 
 
 That fear no spite of wind or tide. 
 
 Nought cared this body for wind or weather, 
 When Youth and I lived in’t together. 
 
AGED 
 
 24 
 
 AGED 
 
 Ere I was old ! Ah, woeful Ere ! 
 
 Which tells me Youth’s no longer here. 
 
 Oh Youth ! For years so many and sweet 
 ’Tis known that thou and I were one: 
 
 I’ll think it but a fond conceit; 
 
 It cannot be that thou art gone! 
 
 Thy vesper bell hath not yet toll’d ; 
 
 And thou wert aye a masker bold. 
 
 What strange disguise hast now put on, 
 
 To make believe that thou art gone ? 
 
 I see these locks in silvery slips, 
 
 This drooping gait, this alter’d size ; 
 
 But springtide blossoms on thy lips, 
 
 And tears take sunshine from thine eyes ! 
 
 Life is but thought; so think I will 
 That Youth and I are house-mates still. 
 Dew-drops are the gems of morning, 
 
 But the tears of mournful eve, 
 
 Where no hope is, life’s a warning 
 That only serves to make us grieve, 
 
 When we are old : 
 That only serves to make us grieve 
 With oft and tedious taking leave; 
 
 Like some poor nigh-related guest 
 That may not rudely be dismiss’d, 
 
 Yet hath outstay’d his welcome while, 
 
 And tells the jest without the smile.— Coleridge. 
 
 113. AGED. Absurdities of the 
 
 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, 
 
 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 avarice, 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. 
 
 Absurd longevity! More, more, it cries ; 
 
 More life, more wealth, more trash of every kind. 
 And wherefore mad for more, when relish fails ? 
 Object and appetite must club for joy— 
 
 Baubles, I mean, that strike us from without. 
 
 Shall folly labour hard to mend the bow, 
 
 While Nature is relaxing every string? 
 
 Ask thought for joy : grow rich, and hoard within. 
 Think you the soul, when this life’s rattles cease, 
 Has nothing of more manly to succeed ? 
 
 Contract the taste immortal; learn e’en now 
 To relish what alone subsists hereafter. 
 
 Divine or none, henceforth, your joys for ever. 
 
 Of age, the glory is to wish to die : 
 
 That wish is praise and promise ; it applauds 
 Past life, and promises our future bliss. 
 
 What weakness see not children in their sires ! 
 Grand-climacterical absurdities ! 
 
 Grey-hair’d authority, to faults of youth, 
 
 How shocking ! it makes folly thrice a fool; 
 
 And our first childhood mig^t our last despise. 
 
 Peace and esteem is all that age can hope : 
 
 Nothing but wisdom gives the first; the last 
 Nothing but the repute of being wise. 
 
 Folly bars both : our age is quite undone. 
 
 What folly can be ranker ? Like our shadows, 
 
 Our wishes lengthen as our sun declines. 
 
 No wish should loiter, then, this side the grave. 
 
 Our hearts should leave the world before the knell 
 Calls for our carcasses to mend the soil: 
 
 Enough to live in tempest, die in port. 
 
 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, 
 
 And put good works on board, and wait the wind 
 That shortly blows us into worlds unknown : 
 
 If unconsider’d, too, a dreadful scene !— Young. 
 
 114. AGED. Afflictions and Infirmities of the 
 
 The sixth age shifts 
 Into the lean and slipper’d pantaloon ; 
 
 With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side, 
 
 His youthful hose well saved, a world too wide 
 For his shrunk shank ; and his big manly voice, 
 Turning again towards childish treble, pipes 
 And whistles in his sound.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Last scene of all, 
 
 That ends this strange eventful history, 
 
 Is second childishness, and mere oblivion ; 
 
 Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Till length of years, 
 
 And sedentary numbness, craze my limbs 
 To a contemptible old age obscure.— Milton. 
 
 To what can I be useful, wherein serve, 
 
 But to sit idle on the household hearth, 
 
 A burd’nous drone, to visitants a gaze ?— ATiltoti. 
 
 Thou must outlive 
 
 Thy youth, thy strength, thy beauty, which will 
 change 
 
 To wither’d, weak, and grey.— Milton. 
 
 Behold where age’s wretched victim lies, 
 
 See his head trembling, and his half-closed eyes, 
 
AGED 
 
 AGED 
 
 Frequent for breath his panting bosom heaves ; 
 
 To broken sleep his remnant sense he gives, 
 
 And only by his pains, awaking, finds he lives. 
 
 Prior. 
 
 When once men 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.— Young. 
 
 Now then the ills of age, its pains, its care, 
 
 The drooping spirit for its fate prepare ; 
 
 And each affection failing, leaves the heart 
 Loosed from life’s charm, and willing to depart. 
 
 Crabbe. 
 
 Superfluous lags the veteran on the stage. 
 
 Johnson. 
 
 The still returning tale, and lingering jest, 
 
 Perplex the fawning niece, and pamper’d guest, 
 While growing hopes scarce awe the gath’ring j 
 sneer, 
 
 And scarce a legacy can bribe to hear.— Johnson. 
 
 In life’s last scene what prodigies surprise, 
 
 Fears of the brave, and follies of the wise ! 
 
 From Marlb’rough’s eyes the streams of dotage 
 flow, 
 
 And Swift expires a driv’ler and a show. 
 
 Johnson. 
 
 Thus pleasures fade away ; 
 
 Youth, talents, beauty thus decay, 
 
 And leave us dark, forlorn, and grey.— Scott. 
 
 What is the worst of woes that wait on age ? 
 
 What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow ? 
 
 To view each loved one blotted from life’s page, 
 And be alone on earth as I am now. 
 
 Before the Chastener humbly let me bow 
 O’er hearts divided, and o’er hopes destroy’d. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 115. AGED. Characteristics of the 
 
 Thirst of power and of riches now bear sway, 
 
 The passion and infirmity of age.— Frowde. 
 
 These are the effects of doting age, 
 
 Vain doubts, and idle cares, and over-caution. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 Age is froward, uneasy, scrutinous, 
 
 Hard to be pleased, and parsimonious.— Denham. 
 
 Young men soon give, and soon forget affronts ; 
 
 Old age is slow in both.— Addison. 
 
 116. AGED. Death of the 
 
 Age, like ripe apples, on earth’s bosom drops; 
 While force our youth, like fruits, untimely crops. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 117. AGED. Death Song for the 
 
 In age and feebleness extreme 
 Who shall a sinful worm redeem ? 
 
 Jesus, my only hope Thou art, 
 
 Strength of my failing flesh and heart ; 
 
 Oh, could I catch a smile from Thee, 
 
 And drop into eternity !— Charles Wesley. 
 
 118. AGED. Example of the 
 
 Our green youth copies what grey sinners act, 
 When age commends the fact.— Dryden. 
 
 119. AGED. Flattery of the 
 
 Here is one that wishes to live longer; 
 
 Feels not his gout, nor palsy ; feigns himself 
 Younger by scores of years ; flatters his age 
 With confident belying, with hopes he may 
 With charms, like Eson, have his youth restored ; 
 And with those thoughts so battens, as if fate 
 Would be as easily cheated on as he.— Ben Jonson. 
 
 120. AGED. Happiness of the 
 
 Behold a patriarch of years, who leaneth on the 
 staff of religion ; 
 
 Lofty aspirations, deep affections, holy hopes, are 
 his delight; 
 
 His abhorrence is to strip from life its charitable 
 garment of ideal. 
 
 The shrewd world laughed at him for honesty, the 
 vain world mouthed at him for honour, 
 
 The false world hated him for truth, the cold world 
 •despised him for affection. 
 
 Still he kept his treasure, the warm and noble heart, 
 And in that happy old man survive the child and 
 lover. — Tupper. 
 
 121. AGED. Hope in the 
 
 Old husbandmen I at Sabinum know, 
 
 Who for another year dig, plough, and sow ; 
 
 For never any man was yet so old, 
 
 But hoped his life one winter more would hold. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 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. 
 
AGED 
 
 26 
 
 ALLOTMENT 
 
 122. AGED. Love of Life in the 
 
 The tree of deepest root is found 
 Least willing still to quit the ground ; 
 
 ’Twas therefore said by ancient sages 
 That love of life increased with years, 
 
 So much that in our latter stages, 
 
 When pains grow sharp, and sickness rages, 
 The greatest love of life appears. 
 
 Mrs Thrale. 
 
 123. AGED. The : should not delay. 
 
 Let s take the instant by the forward top : 
 
 For we are old, and on our quick’st decrees 
 Th’ inaudible and noiseless foot of time 
 Steals, eie we can effect them.— Shakespeare. 
 
 124. AGED. Usefulness possible to the 
 
 Let not old age disgrace my high desire, 
 
 O heavenly soul, in human shape contain’d ! 
 Old wood inflamed doth yield the bravest fire, 
 When younger doth in smoke his virtue spend. 
 
 Sir P. Sidney. 
 
 The spring, like youth, fresh blossoms doth pro¬ 
 duce, 
 
 But autumn makes them ripe, and fit for use : 
 
 So age a mature mellowness doth set 
 On the green promises of youthful heat. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 125. AGRICULTURE. Nobility of 
 
 In ancient times, the sacred plough employ’d 
 The kings and awful fathers of mankind. 
 
 A.nd 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 unwearied hand, 
 Disdaining little delicacies, seized 
 The plough, and greatly independent lived. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 126. AGRICULTURE. Prayerful 
 
 First offer incense ; then thy field and meads 
 Shall smile and smell the better by thy beads ; 
 
 The spangling dew dreg’d o’er the grasse shall be 
 Turn’d all to mell and manna there for thee. 
 
 Butter of amber, cream, and wine, and oil 
 Shall run, and rivers, all throughout thy soyl. 
 
 W r od’st thou to sincere silver turn thy mold ? 
 
 Pray once, twice pray, and turn thy ground to gold. 
 
 Herrick. 
 
 127. AGRICULTURE. Treasure of 
 
 A VINTNER at the point of death, 
 
 Spake to his sons with parting breath ; 
 
 ‘ A treasure in our vineyard lies. 
 
 Dig for it! ’—‘ Say, where is the prize?’ 
 
 Aloud they to their father cried. 
 
 ‘ Dig, dig ! ’ he said, when lo ! he died. 
 
 Ere in his grave he long had lain, 
 
 They search’d and dug with might and main. 
 With spade, and mattock, and with hoe 
 The vineyard o’er and o’er they throw. 
 
 No clod escaped their zealous toil, 
 
 E’en through a sieve they pass’d the soil. 
 
 And drew the rakes across, around, 
 
 For ev’ry stone upon the ground; 
 
 But of the treasure saw no trace ; 
 
 Each thought ’twas but a wild-goose chase. 
 
 But scarce the sun its yearly round 
 Had made, when they with wonder found 
 Each vine-tree bore a three-fold prize. 
 
 Then grew, at length, the children wise, 
 
 And, year on year revolving round, 
 
 Dug greater treasures from the ground. 
 
 Gottfried August Burger. 
 
 128. AIM. The Christian’s 
 
 Aim at the highest prize ; if there thou fail, 
 Thou’lt haply reach to one not far below. 
 
 Strive first the goal to compass : if too slow 
 Thy speed, the attempt may ne’ertheless avail 
 The next best post to conquer. Let not quail 
 Eye, heart, or limb : but still right onward go , 
 The Judge shall heed thee, and a crown bestow, 
 And bid thy name the loud-voiced herald hail. 
 
 To the wish’d mark one racer only came 
 Of old victorious : to intwine his brow 
 One only grasp’d the crown, and Avon the game, 
 Isthmian or proud Olympian. Happier thou 
 Pursu’st thy course with no uncertain aim, 
 
 Secure to seize an amaranthine bough.— Mant. 
 
 129. ALLOTMENT. Diversities of 
 
 Another feature in the ways of God, 
 
 That wondrous seem’d, and made some men com 
 plain, 
 
 Was the unequal gift of worldly things. 
 
 Great was the difference, indeed, of men 
 Externally, from beggar to the prince. 
 
 I he highest take, and lowest—and conceive 
 The scale between. A noble of the earth, 
 
 One of its great, in splendid mansion dwelt; 
 
ALLOTMENT 
 
 2 7 
 
 ALLUREMENTS 
 
 Was robed in silk and gold, and every day 
 Fared sumptuously; was titled, honour’d, served. 
 Thousands his nod awaited, and his will 
 For law received. 
 
 Turn now thine eye, and look on poverty! 
 
 Look on the lowest of her ragged sons: 
 
 We find him by the way, sitting in dust; 
 
 He has no bread to eat, no tongue to ask; 
 
 No limbs to walk; no home, no house, no friend. 
 See how his hand, if any hand he has, 
 Involuntarily opens, and trembles forth, 
 
 As comes the traveller’s foot; and hear his groan. 
 On him hail, rain, and tempest rudely beat; 
 
 And all the winds of heaven, in jocular mood. 
 Sport with his wither’d rags, that, toss’d about, 
 Display his nakedness to passers by, 
 
 And grievously burlesque the human form. 
 Observe him yet more narrowly: his limbs, 
 
 With palsy shaken, about him blasted lie; 
 
 And all his flesh is full of putrid sores, 
 
 And noisome wounds, his bones of racking pains. 
 Strange vesture this for an immortal soul! 
 
 Strange retinue to wait a lord of earth! 
 
 It seems as Nature, in some surly mood, 
 
 After debate and musing long, had tried 
 How vile and miserable thing her hand 
 Could fabricate, then made this meagre man: 
 
 A sight so full of perfect misery, 
 
 That passengers their faces turn’d away, 
 
 And hasted to be gone; and delicate 
 And tender woman took another path. 
 
 This great disparity of outward things 
 Taught many lessons; but this taught in chief, 
 Though learn’d by few: that God no value set, 
 That man should none, on goods of worldly kind; 
 On transitory, frail, external things, 
 
 Of migratory, ever-changing sort; 
 
 And further taught, that in the soul alone, 
 
 The thinking, reasonable, willing soul, 
 
 God placed the total excellence of man; 
 
 And meant him evermore to seek it there. 
 
 Pollok. 
 
 130. ALLOTMENT. Thy 
 
 Thou cam’st not to thy place by accident, 
 
 It is the very place God meant for thee; 
 
 And shouldst thou there small scope for action see, 
 Do not for this give room to discontent, 
 
 Nor let the time thou owest to God be spent 
 In idly dreaming how thou mightest be, 
 
 In what concerns thy spiritual life, more free 
 From outward hindrance or impediment. 
 
 For presently this hindrance thou shalt find 
 That without which all goodness were a task 
 
 So slight, that virtue never could grow strong : 
 And wouldst thou do one duty to His mind, 
 
 The imposer’s—over-burden’d thou shalt ask, 
 
 And own thy need of grace to help, ere long. 
 
 R. C. Trench 
 
 131. ALLUREMENTS. Earthly 
 
 O streams of earthly love and joy, 
 
 On whose green banks we dwell, 
 
 Gleaming in beauty to the eye, 
 
 Ye promise fair and well! 
 
 Ye lure us, and we venture in, 
 
 Cheated by sun and smiles ; 
 
 Ye tempt us, and we brave your depths, 
 
 Won by your winning wiles. 
 
 Too deep and strong for us !—We glide 
 Down your deceiving wave ; 
 
 Like men by siren song beguiled 
 On to a siren grave. 
 
 O world, with all thy smiles and loves, 
 
 With all thy song and wine, 
 
 What mockery of human hearts, 
 
 What treachery is thine ! 
 
 Thou woundest, but thou canst not heal, 
 
 Thy words are warbled lies ; 
 
 Thy hand contains the poison’d cup, 
 
 And he who drinks it dies. 
 
 O world, there’s fever in thy touch, 
 
 And frenzy in thine eye ; 
 
 To lose and shun thee is to live, 
 
 To win thee is to die !— Bonar. 
 
 132. ALLUREMENTS. Fatal 
 
 A fount-o’ershading tree stands near the high¬ 
 way-side, 
 
 And many a good fellow, pausing there, has died. 
 
 For in the fountain’s depths a dragon lies asleep : 
 
 Sits on the tree a bird, his constant watch to keep. 
 
 The bird’s sweet song allures the unwary wanderer 
 near : 
 
 Then sings he loud, so loud the dragon wakes to 
 hear. 
 
 The thirsty traveller drinks,— the dragon darts 
 aloft,— 
 
 And on the tree the fatal bird sings soft.— Oriental. 
 
 133. ALLUREMENTS. Looking on 
 
 Turn thou thine eyes from each seducing sight, 
 
 For looking whets the ready edge of appetite. 
 
 Oriental, tr. by IV. R. Alger. 
 
ALLUREMENTS 
 
 28 
 
 AMBITION 
 
 134. ALLUREMENTS. Resisting 
 
 Ulysses, sailing by the Siren’s isle, 
 
 Seal’d first his comrades’ ears, then bade them fast 
 Bind him with many a fetter to the mast, 
 
 Lest those sweet voices should their souls beguile, 
 And to their ruin flatter them, the while 
 Their homeward bark was sailing swiftly past ; 
 
 And thus the peril they behind them cast, 
 
 Though chased by those weird voices many a mile. 
 But yet a nobler cunning Orpheus used : 
 
 No fetter he put on, nor stopp’d his ear, 
 
 But ever, as he pass’d, sang high and clear 
 The blisses of the gods, their holy joys, 
 
 And with diviner melody confused 
 
 And marr’d earth’s sweetest music to a noise. 
 
 R. C. Trench. 
 
 135. ALMS. Law of 
 
 In alms regard thy means, and others’ merits. 
 
 Think Heaven a better bargain than to give 
 Only thy single market-money for it, 
 
 Join hands with God to make a man to live. 
 
 Give to all something; to a good poor man, 
 
 Till thou change names, and be where he began. 
 
 Man is God’s image; but a poor man is 
 
 Christ’s stamp to boot: both images regard. 
 
 God reckons for him, counts the favour His : 
 
 Write, So much given to God; thou shalt be 
 heard. 
 
 Let thine alms go before, and keep Heaven’s gate 
 Open for thee ; or both may come too late. 
 
 George Herbert. 
 
 136. ALMSGIVING. A Reason for 
 
 I am a humble pensioner 
 Myself for daily bread ; 
 
 Shall I forget my brothers 
 Who seem in greater need ? 
 
 I know not how it happen’d 
 That I had more than they, 
 
 Unless God meant that I should give 
 A part of it away. 
 
 The poorest highway beggar 
 And I have needs the same ; 
 
 Close side by side we waited, 
 
 While God call’d out the name. 
 
 So, brother, it but happen’d 
 The name he call’d was mine, 
 
 The food was given for us both. 
 
 Here ! Half of it is thine ! 
 
 137. AMBITION. Baseness of ungoverned 
 
 Dare to be great without a guilty crown ; 
 
 View it, and lay the bright temptation down. 
 ’Tis base to seize on all.— Dryden. 
 
 138. AMBITION. Cheat of 
 
 What is Ambition ? ’Tis a glorious cheat! 
 
 It seeks the chamber of the gifted boy 
 And lifts his humble window, and comes in. 
 
 The narrow walls expand, and spread away 
 Into a kingly palace, and the roof 
 Lifts to the sky, and unseen fingers work 
 The ceilings with rich blazonry, and write 
 His name in burning letters over all. 
 
 And ever, as he shuts his ’wildered eyes, 
 
 The phantom comes and lays upon his lids 
 A spell that murders sleep, and in his ear 
 Whispers a deathless word, and on his brain 
 Breathes a fierce thirst no water will allay. 
 
 He is its slave henceforth ! His days are spent 
 In chaining down his heart, and watching where 
 To rise by human weaknesses. His nights 
 Bring him no rest in all their blessed hours. 
 
 His kindred are forgotten or estranged. 
 
 Unhealthful fires burn constant in his eye. 
 
 His lip grows restless, and its smile is curl’d 
 Half into scorn—till the bright, fiery boy, 
 
 That was a daily blessing but to see, 
 
 His spirit was so bird-like and so pure, 
 
 Is frozen, in the very flush of youth, 
 
 Into a cold, care-fretted, heartless man. 
 
 And what is its reward? At best, a name ! 
 
 Praise—when the ear has grown too dull to hear, 
 Gold—where the senses it should please are dead ; 
 Wreaths— where the hair they cover has grown grey, 
 Fame—when the heart it should have thrill’d is 
 numb ; 
 
 All things but love —when love is all we want; 
 
 And close behind comes Death, and ere we know 
 That ev’n these unavailing gifts are ours, 
 
 He sends us, stripp’d and naked, to the grave ! 
 
 N. P. Willis. 
 
 139. AMBITION. Check to 
 
 Go, climb the rugged Alps, ambitious fool, 
 
 To please the boys and be a theme at school. 
 
 One world sufficed not Alexander’s mind; 
 
 Coop’d up, he seem’d in earth and seas confined ; 
 And, struggling, stretch’d his restless limbs about 
 The narrow globe, to find a passage out. 
 
 Yet, enter’d in the brick-built town, he tried 
 The tomb, and found the strait dimensions wide ; 
 
AMBITION 
 
 29 
 
 AMBITION 
 
 ‘ Death only this mysterious truth unfolds, 
 
 The mighty soul, how small a body holds.’ 
 
 Juvaial tr. by yohn Dryden. 
 
 140. AMBITION. Choice of 
 
 His trust was with th’ Eternal to be deem’d 
 Equal in strength, and rather than be less 
 Cared not to be at all; with that care lost 
 Went all his fear: of God, or hell, or worse, 
 
 He reck’d not. — Milton. 
 
 Here may we reign secure ; and, in my choice, 
 To reign is worth ambition, though in hell. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 141. AMBITION. Christian 
 
 * Ambition is the vice of noble souls ! ’ 
 
 If ’tis a vice, then let those souls beware, 
 
 Thrice noble though they be, and passing fair 
 In the world’s eye, and high upon the scrolls, 
 
 Her favour’d minions where the world enrolls, 
 
 Lest it conduct to shame ! Be thine the care, 
 Soldier of Christ, that nobler strife to dare, 
 Which the rash spirit of the world controls, 
 
 And makes ambition virtue ! Be it thine 
 To win thy bright unfading diadem 
 By works of love ! Around his brows shall shine 
 In heaven from glory’s source the purest beam, 
 Whose aspect here, with beauty most divine, 
 Reflects the image of the Good Supreme. 
 
 Mant. 
 
 142. AMBITION. Curse of 
 
 Woe to thee, wild Ambition ! I employ 
 Despair’s low notes thy dread effects to tell : 
 
 Born in high heaven, her peace thou could’st destroy ; 
 
 And but for thee there had not been a hell. 
 Through the celestial domes thy clarion peal’d ; 
 
 Angels, entranced, beneath thy banners ranged 
 And straight were fiends ; hurl’d from the shrinking 
 field, 
 
 They waked in agony to wail the change. 
 
 Darting through all her veins the subtle fire, 
 
 The world’s fair mistress first inhaled thy breath ; 
 To lot of higher beings learn’d to aspire, 
 
 Dared to attempt, and doom’d the world to death. 
 
 Maria A. Brooks. 
 
 143. AMBITION: destroys Peace. 
 
 One shall rise 
 
 Of proud ambitious heart, who, not content 
 With fair equality, fraternal state, 
 
 Will arrogate dominion undeserved 
 Over his brethren, and quite dispossess 
 Concord and law of nature from the earth. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 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. 
 
 144. AMBITION. Devil of 
 
 How, like a mounting devil in the heart, 
 
 Rules the unrein’d Ambition ! Let it once 
 But play the monarch, and its haughty brow 
 Glows with a beauty that bewilders thought 
 And unthrones peace for ever. Putting on 
 The very pomp of Lucifer, it turns 
 The heart to ashes, and with not a spring 
 Left in the bosom for the spirit’s lip, 
 
 We look upon our splendour and forget 
 The thirst for which we perish ! Yet hath life 
 Many a falser idol.— N. P. Willis. 
 
 145. AMBITION. Disappointments of 
 
 I am as one 
 
 Who doth attempt some lofty mountain’s height, 
 And having gain’d 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. 
 
 yoanna Baillie. 
 
 Ambition sigh’d : she found it vain to trust 
 The faithless column, and the crumbling bust. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Dream after dream ensues, 
 
 And still they dream that they shall still succeed, 
 And still are disappointed.— Cowper. 
 
 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. 
 
 146. AMBITION. Dissuasive from 
 
 Both ways deceitful is the wine of power; 
 
 When new ’tis heady, and when old ’tis sour. 
 
 Walter Harte. 
 
 147. AMBITION. Effects of 
 
 SOME through ambition, or through thirst of gold, 
 Have slain their brothers, and their country sold. 
 
 Dryden, 
 
AMBITION 
 
 30 
 
 AMBITION 
 
 Those who to empire by dark paths aspire, 
 
 Still plead a call to what they most desire.— Dryden. 
 
 148. AMBITION. End of 
 
 Here, like a shepherd gazing from his hut, 
 Touching his reed, or leaning on his staff, 
 
 Eager Ambition’s fiery chase I see ; 
 
 I see the circling hunt of noisy men 
 
 Burst law’s inclosure, leap the mounds of right, 
 
 Pursuing and pursued, each other’s prey; 
 
 As wolves for rapine ; as the fox for wiles; 
 
 Till Death, that mighty hunter, earths them all. 
 
 Why all this toil for triumphs of an hour? 
 
 What though we wade in wealth, or soar in fame 
 Earth’s highest station ends in ‘ Here he lies ’— 
 And ‘ Dust to dust ’ concludes her noblest song. 
 
 Young. 
 
 149. AMBITION. Example of 
 
 On what foundations stands the warrior’s pride, 
 How just his hopes, let Swedish Charles decide : 
 
 A frame of adamant, a soul of fire, 
 
 No dangers fright him, and no labours tire ; 
 
 O’er love, o’er fear, extends his wide domain, 
 Unconquer’d lord of pleasure and of pain. 
 
 No joys to him pacific sceptres yield, 
 
 War sounds the trump, he rushes to the field ; 
 Behold surrounding kings their power combine, 
 
 And one capitulate, and one resign; 
 
 Peace courts his hand, but spreads her charms in 
 vain; 
 
 ‘Think nothing gain’d,’ he cries, ‘till nought re¬ 
 main, 
 
 On Moscow’s walls till Gothic standards fly, 
 
 And all be mine beneath the polar sky.’ 
 
 The march begins in military state, 
 
 And nations on his eye suspended wait; 
 
 Stem famine guards the solitary coast, 
 
 And winter barricades the realms of frost. 
 
 He comes, nor want nor cold his course delay; 
 Hide, blushing glory, hide Pultowa’s day ! 
 
 The vanquish’d hero leaves his broken bands, 
 
 And shows his miseries in distant lands; 
 
 Condemn’d a needy supplicant to wait. 
 
 While ladies interpose and slaves debate. 
 
 But did not Chance at length her error mend ? 
 
 Did not subverted empire mark his end ? 
 
 Did rival monarchs give the fatal wound, 
 
 Or hostile millions press him to the ground ? 
 
 His fall was destined to a barren strand, 
 
 A petty fortress, and a dubious hand; 
 
 He left the name, at which the world grew pale, 
 
 To point a moral or adorn a tale.— Johnson. 
 
 150. AMBITION. Examples of 
 
 Napoleon, Frederic, Charles, and Cromwell — 
 these 
 
 Swept the earth with a besom dipp’d in fire. 
 
 They would have kings and nations bend their knees: 
 Theirs was the untamed thirst of something 
 
 o 
 
 higher, 
 
 An energy of hope, that could not tire, 
 
 The love of self to deeds of might sublimed. 
 
 Ambition wrought to habitudes of ire, 
 
 Force, reckless force, uncheck’d, unbent, untimed, 
 An aim to gain a height where power had never 
 climb’d. 
 
 They sought they knew not what,—they set no 
 bound 
 
 To their wide-clenching grasp — their longing 
 grew, 
 
 As grew their empire,—keenly, as the hound 
 Catches the deer-track in the morning dew, 
 
 They snuffd the scent of conquest,—victory threw 
 Her laurels at their feet—awhile they gave 
 Blood to the earth like water,—madly flew 
 Their gore-fed eagles. But the wildest wave 
 Breaks and subsides at last; their end was in the 
 grave. 
 
 % 
 
 Now they are dust and ashes ; other swarms 
 People the ground they wasted, other men 
 Rise to be torn and toss’d by other storms. 
 
 Ambition sleeps a moment in her den 
 To gain new breath, and fire, and strength ; but 
 then 
 
 She blows the ember’d coals, and they are flame. 
 
 So it must be, for it hath ever been :— 
 
 Age rolls on age, and heroes are the same,— 
 
 The rest, the crowd, the mob, the warlike hunter’s 
 game.— J. G. Percival. 
 
 151. AMBITION. Fever of 
 
 Hew Atlas for my monument; upraise 
 A pyramid for my tomb, that, undestroy’d 
 By rank, oblivion, and the hungry void, 
 
 My name shall echo through prospective days. 
 
 O careless conqueror ! cold, abysmal grave ! 
 
 Is it not sad—is it not sad, my heart— 
 
 To smother young Ambition, and depart 
 
 Unhonour’d and unwilling, like death’s slave? 
 
 No rare immortal remnant of my thought 
 Embalms my life ; no poem firmly rear’d 
 Against the shock of time, ignobly fear’d, 
 
 But all my life’s progression come to nought. 
 
 Hew Atlas ! build a pyramid in a plain ! 
 
 O, cool the fever burning in my brain ! 
 
 David Gray. 
 
AMBITION 
 
 3i 
 
 AMBITION 
 
 152. AMBITION. Fling away 
 
 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 ? 
 
 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. Be just and fear not. 
 Let all the ends thou aim’st at be thy country’s, 
 
 Thy God’s, and truth’s.— Shakespeare. 
 
 153. AMBITION : impatient. 
 
 Ambition is like love, impatient 
 Both of delays and rivals. — Denham. 
 
 154. AMBITION. 
 
 Ingratitude of 
 
 Brutus. The abuse of greatness is, when it disjoins 
 Remorse from power : and to speak truth of Caesar, 
 I have not known when his affections sway’d 
 More than his reason. But ’tis a common proof, 
 That lowliness is young Ambition’s ladder, 
 
 Whereto the climber upward turns his face : 
 
 But when he once attains the upmost round, 
 
 He then unto the ladder turns his back, 
 
 Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees 
 By which he did ascend.— Shakespeare. 
 
 155* AMBITION : insatiable. 
 
 Ambition is a lust that’s never quench’d, 
 
 Grows more inflamed and madder by enjoyment. 
 
 Otway. 
 
 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. 
 
 The world sufficed not Alexander’s mind ; 
 
 Coop’d up he seem’d, in earth and seas confined. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 156. AMBITION : makes life a toil. 
 
 Blinded greatness, ever in turmoil, 
 
 Still seeking happy life, makes life a toil. 
 
 _. Daniel. 
 
 157* AMBITION : may be an excellence. 
 
 Man was mark’d 
 A friend, in his creation, to himself, 
 
 And may, with fit Ambition, conceive 
 The greatest blessings and the brightest honours 
 Appointed for him, if he can achieve them 
 The light and noble way.— Massinger. 
 
 The fiery soul abhorr’d in Catiline, 
 
 In Decius charms, in Curtius is divine : 
 
 The same Ambition can destroy or save, 
 
 And make a patriot, as it makes a knave. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 158. AMBITION. Misery of 
 
 Ambition hath one heel nail’d in hell, 
 Though she stretch her fingers to touch the heavens. 
 
 Lilly. 
 
 159* AMBITION. Mortification of 
 
 For when I feel my virtue fail, 
 
 And my ambitious thoughts prevail, 
 
 I’ll take a turn among the tombs, 
 
 And see whereto all glory comes. 
 
 There the vile foot of every clown 
 1 ramples the sons of honour down ; 
 
 Beggars with awful ashes sport, 
 
 And tread the Caesars in the dirt.— Watts. 
 
 160. AMBITION: natural to man. 
 
 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. 
 
 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.— Cowper. 
 
 161. AMBITION: often leads to disgrace. 
 
 Where ambition of place goes before fitness 
 Of birth, contempt and disgrace follow.— Chapman. 
 
 162. AMBITION. Penalties of 
 
 They that stand high have many blasts to shnke 
 them, 
 
 And if they fall, they dash themselves to pieces. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 O false ambition ! 
 
 Thou lying phantom ! whither hast thou lured me? 
 Ev’n to this giddy height ; where now I stand 
 Forsaken, comfortless ; with not a friend 
 In whom my soul can trust.— Brown. 
 
AMBITION 
 
 32 
 
 AMBITION 
 
 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. 
 
 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. 
 
 163. AMBITION. Power of 
 
 This sov’reign passion, scornful of restraint, 
 
 Even from the birth effects supreme command, 
 Swells in the breast, and with resistless force 
 O’erbears each gentler motion of the mind. 
 
 Johnson. 
 
 164. AMBITION. Restlessness of 
 
 Of all the passions which possess the soul, 
 
 None so disturbs vain mortals’ minds, 
 
 As vain Ambition, which so blinds 
 
 The light 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 Ster line. 
 
 No toil, no hardship can restrain 
 Ambitious man inured to pain ; 
 
 The more confined, the more he tries, 
 
 And at forbidden quarry flies.— Dryden. 
 
 To the expanded and aspiring soul, 
 
 To be but still the thing it long has been, 
 
 Is misery, e’en though enthroned it were 
 Under the cope of high imperial state. 
 
 Joanna Baillie. 
 
 But quiet to quick bosoms is a hell, 
 
 And there hath been thy bane ; there is a fire 
 And 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 shine 
 or rule.— Byron. 
 
 Their breath is agitation, and their life 
 A storm whereon they ride to sink at last, 
 
 And yet so nursed 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 
 With its own flickering, or a sword laid by, 
 Which eats into itself, and rusts ingloriously. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 165. AMBITION. True 
 
 First, what is true Ambition? The pursuit 
 Of glory nothing less than man can share. 
 
 Were they as vain as gaudy-minded man, 
 
 As flatulent with fumes of self-applause, 
 
 Their arts and conquests animals might boast, 
 
 And claim their laurel crowns as well as we ; 
 
 But not celestial. Here, we stand alone ; 
 
 As in our form, distinct, pre-eminent. 
 
 If prone in thought, our stature is our shame ; 
 
 And man should blush his forehead meets the skies. 
 The visible and present are for brutes ; 
 
 A slender portion ! and a narrow bound ! 
 
 These, Reason, with an energy divine, 
 
 O’erleaps, and climbs the future and unseen, 
 
 The vast unseen ! the future fathomless ! 
 
 When the great soul buoys up to this high point, 
 And leaves gross Nature’s sediments below, 
 
 Then, and then only, Adam’s offspring quits 
 The sage and hero of the fields and Woods, 
 
 Asserts his rank, and rises into man. 
 
 This is ambition ; this is human fire. 
 
 Other ambition Nature interdicts ; 
 
 Nature proclaims it most absurd in man 
 By pointing at his origin and end : 
 
 Milk and a swathe, at first, his whole demand— 
 His whole domain, at last, a turf, a stone ; 
 
 To whom, between, a world may seem too small. 
 
 Young. 
 
 166. AMBITION. Universal 
 
 Not 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 mighi ! ’ 
 
33 
 
 ANCESTR V 
 
 AMBITION 
 
 And why ? h/ecause immortal as their lord ; 
 
 And souls ijmmortal must for ever heave 
 At something great; the glitter or the gold, 
 
 The praise of mortals or the praise of Heaven. 
 
 / Young. 
 
 167. .Ambition. Works of 
 
 It opein’d the niggard’s purse ; clothed nakedness ; 
 Gave /beggars food ; and threw the Pharisee 
 UporA his knees, and kept him long in act 
 Of p. frayer. It spread the lace upon the fop, 
 
 His/ language trimm’d, and plann’d his curious gait; 
 IjC stuck the feather on the gay coquette, 
 
 And on her finger laid the heavy load 
 Of jewelry ; it did—what did it not? 
 
 The gospel preach’d, the gospel paid, and sent 
 The gospel; conquer’d nations ; cities built; 
 Measured the furrow of the field with nice 
 Directed share; shaped bulls, and cows, and rams : 
 And threw the ponderous stone ; and pitiful, 
 
 Indeed, and much against the grain, it dragg’d 
 The stagnant, dull, predestinated fool, 
 
 Through learning’s halls, and made him labour much 
 Abortively ; though sometimes not unpraised. 
 
 He left the sage’s chair, and home return’d, 
 
 Making his simple mother think that she 
 Had borne a man. In schools, design’d to root 
 Sin up, and plant the seeds of holiness 
 In youthful minds, it held a signal place. 
 
 The little infant man, by nature proud, 
 
 Was taught the Scriptures by the love of praise, 
 
 And grew religious as he grew in fame. 
 
 And thus the principle, which out of heaven 
 The devil threw, and threw him down to hell, 
 
 And keeps him there, was made an instrument 
 To moralize and sanctify mankind, 
 
 And in their hearts beget humility.— Pollok. 
 
 168. AMUSEMENTS. Empty 
 
 Behold the child, by Nature’s kindly law, 
 
 Pleased with a rattle, tickled with a straw : 
 
 Some livelier plaything gives his youth delight, 
 
 A little louder, but as empty quite : 
 
 Scarfs, garters, gold, amuse his riper stage, 
 
 And beads and prayer-books are the toys of age : 
 Pleased with this bauble still, as that before, 
 
 Till tired he sleeps, and life’s poor play is o’er. 
 
 Tope. 
 
 169. ANCESTRY. Boasting of 
 
 Boast not the 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.— Ben Jonson. 
 
 Long galleries of ancestors 
 Challenge nor wonder nor esteem from me : 
 
 ‘ Virtue alone is true nobility.’— Dryden. 
 
 Do then as your progenitors have done, 
 
 And by their virtues prove yourself their son. 
 
 Dryden . 
 
 They that on glorious ancestors enlarge, 
 
 Produce their debt, instead of their discharge. 
 
 Young. 
 
 But by your fathers’ work if yours you rate, 
 
 Count me those only that were good and great. 
 
 Go ! if your ancient but ignoble blood 
 
 Has crept through scoundrels ever since the flood, 
 
 Go ! and pretend your family is young ; 
 
 Nor own your fathers have been fools so long. 
 What can ennoble sots, or slaves, or covrards ? 
 Alas ! not all the blood of all the Howards. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 170. ANCESTRY. Pride of 
 
 Nor stand so much on your gentility, 
 
 Which is an airy and mere borrow’d thing 
 From dead men’s dust and bones ; and none of 
 yours, 
 
 Except you make or hold it.— Ben yonson. 
 
 Please thy pride, and search the herald’s roll, 
 Where thou shalt find thy famous pedigree, 
 
 Drawn from the root of some old Tuscan tree, 
 
 And thou, a thousand off, a fool of long degree. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 Put off your giant titles, then I can 
 
 Stand in your judgment’s blank and equal 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. 
 Plowe’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. — King. 
 
ANGELS 
 
 34 
 
 \ 
 
 ANGELS 
 
 It is, indeed, a blessing, when the virtues 
 Of noble races are hereditary : 
 
 And do derive themselves from th’ imitation 
 Of virtuous ancestors.— Nabb. 
 
 How vain are all hereditary honours, 
 
 Those poor possessions from another’s deeds, 
 Unless our own just virtues form our title 
 And give a sanction to our fond assumption ! 
 
 Shirley. 
 
 Men should press forward in fame’s glorious chase 
 Nobles look backward, and so lose the race. 
 
 Young. 
 
 Depend upon it, my snobbish friend, 
 
 Your family thread you can’t ascend, 
 
 Without good reason to apprehend 
 You may find it wax'd , at the farther end, 
 
 By some plebeian vocation ! 
 
 Or, worse than that, your boasted line 
 May end in a loop of stronger twine, 
 
 That plagued some worthy relation! 
 
 yohn G. Saxe. 
 
 171. ANGELS: are always in heaven. 
 
 Then unbeguile thyself, and know with me, 
 
 That angels, though on earth employ’d they be, 
 Are still in heaven.— Donne. 
 
 172. ANGELS. Care of the 
 
 ’Tis your office, spirits bright, 
 
 Still to guard us night and day, 
 
 And before your heavenly might 
 Powers of darkness flee away. 
 
 Ever doth our unseen host 
 Camp around us, and avert 
 All that seek to do us hurt, 
 
 Curbing Satan’s malice most. 
 
 And ye come on ready wing, 
 
 W hen we drift toward sheer despair, 
 
 Seeing nought where we might cling, 
 Suddenly, lo ! ye are there ! 
 
 And the wearied heart grows strong, 
 
 As an angel strengthen’d Him, 
 
 Fainting in the garden dim, 
 
 ’Neath the world’s vast woe and wrong. 
 
 Johann Rist. 
 
 173 - ANGELS. Existence of 
 
 Unseen, both when we wake and wh\en we sleep : 
 All these with ceaseless praise his worHcs behold, 
 Both day and night. How often from* the steep 
 Of echoing h."U or thicket have we hearid 
 Celestial voices to the midnight air, 
 
 Sole, or responsive each to other’s note, 
 
 Singing their great Creator ! oft in bands 
 While they keep watch, or nightly rounding 
 With heavenly touch of instrumental sounds 
 In full harmonic number join’d, their songs 
 Divide the night, and lift our thoughts to heavt 
 
 Miltol 
 
 1 74 - ANGELS : and men. 
 
 \ 
 
 Angels are men of a superior kind ; 
 
 Angels are men in lighter habit clad, 
 
 High o’er celestial mountains wing’d in flight, 
 
 And men are angels loaded for an hour, 
 
 Who wade the miry vale, and climb with pain, 
 
 And slippery step, the bottom of the steep. 
 
 Nor are our brothers thoughtless of their kin, 
 
 Yet absent, but not absent from their love. 
 
 Michael has fought our battles, Raphael sung 
 Our triumphs, Gabriel on our errands flown, 
 
 Sent by the Sovereign ; and are these, O man ! 
 
 Thy friends and warm allies, and thou (shame burn 
 Thy cheek to cinder!) rival to the brutes !— Young. i 
 
 175 - ANGELS. Ministry of 
 
 And is there care in heaven ? And is there love 
 In heavenly spirits to these creatures base, 
 
 That may compassion of their evils move ? 
 
 There is : else much more wretched were the case 
 Of men than beasts. But, oh, the exceeding grace 
 Of highest God, that loves His creatures so, 
 
 And all His works with mercy doth embrace, 
 
 I hat blessed angels He sends to and fro, 
 
 1 o serve to wicked man, to serve His wicked foe ! 
 
 How oft do they their silver bowers leave, 
 
 To come to succour us that succour want ! 
 
 How oft do they with golden pinions cleave 
 The glittering skies, like flying pursuivant, 
 
 Against foul fiends to aid us militant! 
 
 They for us fight, they watch, and duly ward, 
 
 And their bright squadrons round about us plant; 
 And all for love, and nothing for reward : 
 
 Oh, why should heavenly God to men have such 
 regai'd !— Spenser. 
 
 These stars, though unbeheld in deep of night, 
 Shine not in vain 5 nor think, though men were none, 
 That heaven would want spectators, God want 
 praise. 
 
 Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth 
 
 176. ANGELS. Office of the 
 
 They are God’s ministering spirits, and are sent 
 His messengers of mercy, to fulfil 
 Good for Salvation’s heirs. For us they still 
 
 1 
 
ANGELS 
 
 35 
 
 ANGELS 
 
 Grieve when we sin, rejoice when we repent; 
 
 And on the last dread day they shall present 
 The sever’d righteous at His holy hill, 
 
 With them God’s face to see, to do His will, 
 And bear with them His likeness. Was it meant 
 That we this knowledge should in secret seal, 
 Unthought of, unimproving? Rather say, 
 
 God deign’d to man His angel hosts reveal, 
 
 That man might learn like angels to obey ; 
 
 And those who long their bliss in heaven to feel, 
 Might strive on earth to serve Him even as they. 
 
 Mant. 
 
 17 7 - ANGELS. Strife of 
 
 My dwelling had been situate beside 
 The myriads of a vast metropolis : 
 
 But now astonish’d I beheld, and lo ! 
 
 There were more spirits than men, more habitants 
 Of the thin air than of the solid ground : 
 
 The firmament was quick with life. As when 
 
 I The prophet’s servant look’d from Dothan forth 
 On Syria’s thronging multitudes, and saw, 
 
 His eyes being open’d at Elisha’s prayer, 
 
 Chariots of fire by fiery horses drawn, 
 
 The squadrons of the sky around the seer 
 Encamping. Thus in numbers numberless 
 The hosts of darkness and of light appear’d 
 Thronging the air. They were not ranged for fight, 
 ; But mingled host with host, angels with men. 
 
 Nor was it easy to discern the lost 
 From the elect. There were no horned fiends 
 As some have fabled, no gaunt skeletons 
 Of naked horror ; but the fallen wore, 
 
 Even as the holy angels, robes of light; 
 
 Nor did their ruin otherwise appear 
 Than in dark passions, envy, and pride, and hate, 
 Which like a brand upon their brow obscured 
 The lustre of angelic loveliness. 
 
 It was not open battle, might with might 
 Contesting ; but uninterrupted war 
 ^Of heavenly faithfulness and hellish craft. 
 
 By every saint a holy watcher stood ; 
 
 By some a company of blessed spirits ; 
 
 Each had their ministry assign’d. And oft 
 From some superior chief the watchword pass’d, 
 
 Or warnings came of stratagems foreseen, 
 
 Or tidings from the court of glory sped 
 From lip to lip more quickly than the thoughts 
 Which men decipher from electric signs. 
 
 Far off their armour gleam’d. On the other hand 
 Th$ spirits of darkness freely intermix’d 
 With all ; innumerable legions arm’d ; 
 
 And, baffled oft, to their respective lords 
 The thrones and principalities of hell 
 Repairing, better learn’d their cursed lore 
 
 To win or storm the ramparts of the heart 
 Except to treachery impregnable.— E. H. Bickersteth. 
 
 178- ANGELS: their fall. 
 
 If a man would be invariable, 
 
 He must be like a rock, or stone, or tree; 
 
 For ev’n the perfect angels were not stable, 
 
 But had a fall more desperate than we. 
 
 Sir J. Davies. 
 
 1 79 * ANGELS: their visits. 
 
 The good he scorn’d 
 
 Stalk’d off reluctant, like an ill-used ghost, 
 
 Not to return ; or, if it did, in visits 
 Like those of angels, short and far between. 
 
 Blair. 
 
 180. ANGELS. Two 
 
 Man hath two attendant angels, 
 
 Ever waiting at his side, 
 
 With him wheresoe’er he wanders, 
 
 Wheresoe’er his feet abide. 
 
 One to warn him when in danger, 
 
 And rebuke him if he stray : 
 
 One to leave him to his nature, 
 
 And so let him go his way. 
 
 Two recording spirits, reading 
 All his life’s minutest part, 
 
 Looking in his soul and listening 
 To the beatings of his heart. 
 
 Each with pen of fire electric, 
 
 Writes the good and evil wrought; 
 
 Writes with truth that adds not, errs not. 
 
 Purpose, action, word, and thought. 
 
 One, the Teacher and Reprover, 
 
 Marks each heaven-deserving deed ; 
 
 Graves it with the lightning’s vigour ; 
 
 Seals it with the lightning’s speed ; 
 
 For the good that man achieveth— 
 
 Good beyond an angel’s doubt— 
 
 Such remains for aye and ever, 
 
 And cannot be blotted out. 
 
 One (severe and silent Watcher) 
 
 Noteth every crime and guile, 
 
 Writes it with a holy duty, 
 
 Seals it not, but waits awhile ; 
 
 If the evil-doer cry not— 
 
 ‘ God, forgive me ! ’ ere he sleeps, 
 
 Then the sad stern spirit seals it, 
 
 And the gentler spirit weeps.— P. Prince. 
 
 
ANGELS 
 
 36 
 
 ANIMaLS 
 
 181. ANGELS : with us unawares. 
 
 In this dim world of clouding cares, 
 
 We rarely know, till ’wilder d eyes 
 See white wings lessening up the skies, 
 
 The angels with us unawares. 
 
 Gerald Massey. 
 
 182. ANGER. 
 
 Full many mischiefs follow 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 swelling spleen, and phrenzy raging rife, 
 
 The shaking palsy, and Saint Francis’ fire : 
 
 Such one was wrath, the last of this ungodly tire. 
 
 Spenser. 
 
 Anger is like 
 
 A full hot horse, who being allow’d his way, 
 
 Self-mettle tires him.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Being once chafed, he cannot 
 Be rein’d again to temperance ; then he speaks 
 What’s in his heart.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Unknit that threat’ning unkind brow ; 
 
 It blots thy beauty, as frost bites the meads, 
 Confounds thy fame.— Shakespeare. 
 
 My rage is not malicious ; like a spark 
 Of fire by steel enforced out of a flint, 
 
 It is no sooner kindled, but extinct.— -Goff. 
 
 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. 
 
 There is not in nature 
 
 A thing that makes a man so deform’d, so beastly, 
 As doth intemp’rate anger. — Webster. 
 
 The elephant is never won with anger ; 
 
 Nor must that man, who would reclaim a lion, 
 Take him by the teeth.— Dryde)i. 
 
 Madness and anger differ but in this, 
 
 This is short madness, that long anger is .—Aleyn. 
 
 Where there’s 
 
 Power to punish, ’tis 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. 
 
 Killegrew. 
 
 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. 
 
 Senseless, and deform’d, 
 Convulsive anger storms at large; or pale 
 And silent, settles into full revenge. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 Loud complaint, however angrily 
 It shakes its phrase, is little to be fear’d, 
 
 And less distrusted.— Byron. 
 
 183. ANIMALS. 
 
 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. 
 
 Cent)per. 
 
 Verily, they are all thine : freely mayest thou serve 
 thee of them all : 
 
 They are thine by gift for thy needs, to be used in all 
 gratitude and kindness ; 
 
 Gratitude to their God and thine,—their Father and 
 thy Father, 
 
 Kindness to them who toil for thee, and help thee 
 with their all : 
 
 For meat, but not by wantonness of slaying : for 
 burden, but with limits of humanity. 
 
 For luxury, but not through torture : for draught, but 
 according to the strength: 
 
 For a dog cannot plead his own right, nor render a 
 reason for exemption, 
 
 Nor give a soft answer unto wrath, to turn aside the 
 undeserved lash ; 
 
 The galled ox cannot complain, nor supplicate a 
 moment’s respite ; 
 
 The spent horse hideth his distress, till he panteth 
 out his spirit at the goal; 
 
 Also, in the winter of life, when worn by constant 
 toil, 
 
 If ingratitude forget his services, he cannot bring 
 them to remembrance : 
 
 Behold, he is faint with hunger ; the big tear standeth 
 in his eye ; 
 
 His skin is sore with stripes, and he tottereth beneath 
 his burden ; 
 
 His limbs are stiff with age, his sinews have lost their 
 vigour, 
 
 And pain is stamped upon his face, while he wrestleth 
 unequally with toil: 
 
ANNIHILATION 
 
 37 
 
 ANNIHILATION 
 
 Yet once more mutely and meekly endureth he the 
 crushing blow ; 
 
 That struggle hath cracked his heart-strings—the 
 generous brute is dead ! 
 
 Liveth there no advocate for him ? no judge to 
 avenge his wrongs ? 
 
 No voice that shall be heard in his defence ? no sen¬ 
 tence to be passed on his oppressor ? 
 
 Yes, the sad eye of the tortured pleadeth pathetically 
 for him ; 
 
 Yea, all the justice in heaven is roused in indigna¬ 
 tion at his woes; 
 
 Yea, all the pity upon earth shall call down a curse 
 upon the cruel; 
 
 Yea, the burning malice of the wicked is their own 
 exceeding punishment. 
 
 The Angel of Mercy stoppeth not to comfort, but 
 passeth by on the other side, 
 
 And hath no tear to shed, when a cruel man is 
 damned. — Tupper. 
 
 184. ANNIHILATION. Absurdity of 
 
 Why life, a moment? infinite, desire? 
 
 Our wish, eternity ? our home, the grave ? 
 
 Heaven’s promise dormant lies in human hope : 
 
 Who wishes life immortal proves it too. 
 
 Why happiness pursued, though never found ? 
 
 Man’s thirst of happiness declares it is, 
 
 For nature never gravitates to nought : 
 
 That thirst, unquench’d, declares it is not here. 
 
 Why cordial friendship riveted so deep, 
 
 As hearts to pierce at first, at parting, rend, 
 
 If friend and friendship vanish in an hour ? 
 
 Is not this torment in the mask of joy ? 
 
 Why by reflection marr’d the joys of sense ? 
 
 Why past and future preying on our hearts, 
 
 And putting all our present joys to death ? 
 
 Why labours reason ?—instinct were as well! 
 
 Instinct far better—what can choose can err. 
 
 O, how infallible the thoughtless brute ! 
 
 ’Twere well his holiness were half as sure. 
 
 Reason with inclination, why at war? 
 
 W hy sense of guilt ? why conscience up in arms ? 
 Conscience of guilt is prophecy of pain, 
 
 And bosom counsel to decline the blow. 
 
 Reason with inclination ne’er had jarr’d, 
 
 If nothing future paid forbearance here. 
 
 These, a thousand pleas uncall’d, 
 
 All promise, some insure, a second scene; 
 
 Which, were it doubtful, would be dearer far 
 Than all things else most certain ; were it false, 
 
 What truth on earth so precious as the lie? 
 
 This world it gives us, let what will ensue ; 
 
 This world it gives, in that high cordial, hope ; 
 
 The future of the present is the soul, 
 
 How this life groans, when sever’d from the next! 
 Poor mutilated wretch, that disbelieves ! 
 
 By dark distrust his being cut in two, 
 
 In both parts perishes: life void of joy, 
 
 Sad prelude of eternity in pain ! 
 
 Could’st thou persuade me the next life could fail 
 Our ardent wishes, how should I pour out 
 My bleeding heart in anguish, new as deep ! 
 
 O, with what thoughts (thy hope, and my despair) 
 Abhorr’d annihilation blasts the soul, 
 
 And wide extends the bounds of human woe ! 
 
 Young. 
 
 185. ANNIHILATION. Advocates of 
 
 Are there on earth (let me not call them men !) 
 Who lodge a soul immortal in their breasts, 
 Unconscious as the mountain of its ore, 
 
 Or rock, of its inestimable gem ? 
 
 When rocks shall melt, and mountains vanish, these 
 Shall know their treasure—treasure, then, no more. 
 Are there (still more amazing !) who resist 
 The rising thought ? who smother, in its birth, 
 
 The glorious truth ? who struggle to be brutes ? 
 Who through this bosom-barrier burst their way, 
 And, with reversed ambition, strive to sink ? 
 
 Who labour downwards through the opposing 
 powers 
 
 Of instinct, reason, and the world against them, 
 
 To dismal hopes, and shelter in the shock 
 Of endless night ?—night, darker than the grave’s !— 
 Who fight the proofs of immortality ? 
 
 With horrid zeal, and execrable arts, 
 
 Work all their engines, level their black fires, 
 
 To blot from man this attribute divine 
 (Than vital blood far dearer to the wise), 
 
 Blasphemers and rank atheists to themselves ? 
 
 Young. 
 
 186. ANNIHILATION. License of 
 
 Duty ! Religion !—These, our duty done, 
 
 Imply reward. Religion is mistake. 
 
 Duty ! —there’s none, but to repel the cheat. 
 
 Ye cheats, away ! ye daughters of my pride, 
 
 Who feign yourselves the favourites of the skies ! 
 
 Ye towering hopes, abortive energies, 
 
 That toss and struggle in my lying breast 
 To scale the skies, and build presumptions there, 
 
 As I were heir of an eternity— 
 
 Vain, vain ambitions ! trouble me no more. 
 
 Why travel far in quest of sure defeat ? 
 
 As bounded as my being be my wish. 
 
 All is inverted ; wisdom is a fool. 
 
 Sense ! take the rein ; blind passion ! drive us on ; 
 And ignorance, befriend us on our way ; 
 
ANT 
 
 38 
 
 ANXIETY 
 
 Ye new, but truest patrons of our peace ! 
 
 Yes, give the pulse full empire ; live the brute, 
 Since, as the brute, we die . . . . the sum of man, 
 Of Godlike man, to revel and to rot !— Young. 
 
 187. ANT. Lesson from the 
 
 Turn to the prudent ant thy heedful eyes, 
 
 Observe her labours, sluggard, and be wise : 
 
 No stem command, no monitory voice 
 Prescribes her duties, or directs her choice ; 
 
 Yet, timely provident, she hastes away 
 To snatch the blessings of the plenteous day ; 
 
 When fruitful summer loads the teeming plain, 
 
 She crops the harvest and she stores the grain. 
 
 How long shall sloth usurp the useless hours, 
 Unnerve thy vigour, and enchain thy powers ; 
 While artful shades thy downy couch enclose, 
 
 And soft solicitation courts repose ? 
 
 Amidst the drowsy charms of dull delight, 
 
 Year chases year with unremitted flight, 
 
 Till want now following, fraudulent and slow, 
 
 Shall spring to seize thee like an ambush’d foe. 
 
 Johnson. 
 
 188. ANTIQUITY. Charms of 
 
 There is a power 
 And magic in the ruin’d battlement, 
 
 For which the palace of the present hour 
 Must yield its pomp, and wait till ages 
 Are its dower.— Byron. 
 
 189. ANXIETY : deprecated. 
 
 Be still, my soul, let nothing stir 
 Thee from the sweet repose 
 Of those who to their God refer 
 Their joys, their cares, their woes. 
 
 Be quiet, why this anxious heed 
 About thy tangled ways? 
 
 God knows them all, He giveth speed, 
 
 And He allows delays. 
 
 What though He let thee not perform 
 Some good and loved design ? 
 
 Thou would’st not wish Him to conform 
 His perfect will to thine ! 
 
 My God ! the hearing ear impart, 
 
 To hear Thee tell Thy will, 
 
 And then bestow the ready heart 
 All meekly to fulfil. 
 
 190. ANXIETY : how to get rid of it. 
 
 Hast Thou within a care so deep, 
 
 It chases from thine eyelids sleep ? 
 
 To thy Redeemer take that care, 
 
 And change anxiety to prayer. 
 
 Hast thou a hope with which thy heart 
 Would almost feel it death to part? 
 
 Entreat thy God that hope to crown, 
 
 Or give thee strength to lay it down. 
 
 Hast thou a friend whose image dear 
 May prove an idol worshipp’d here? 
 
 Implore the Lord that nought may be 
 A shadow between heaven and thee. 
 
 Whate’er the care which breaks thy rest— 
 Whate’er the wish that swells thy breast, 
 
 Spread before God that wish, that care, 
 
 And change anxiety to prayer. 
 
 191. ANXIETY. Misery of 
 
 Perpetual anguish fills his anxious breast, 
 
 Not stopt by business, nor composed by rest; 
 
 No music cheers him, nor no feast can please. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 Thou hast seen many sorrows, travel-stained pilgrim 
 of the world, 
 
 But that which hath vexed thee most, hath been the 
 looking for evil; 
 
 And though calamities have crossed thee and misery 
 been heaped on thy head, 
 
 Yet ills that never happened have chiefly made thee 
 wretched. 
 
 Verily, evils may be courted, may be wooed and 
 won by distrust. 
 
 Ask for good, and hope it; for the ocean of good is 
 fathomless ; 
 
 Ask for good, and have it; for thy Friend would see 
 thee happy; 
 
 But to the timid heart, to the child of unbelief and 
 dread, 
 
 That leaneth on his own weak staff, and trusteth in 
 the sight of his eyes, 
 
 The evil he feared shall come, for the soil is ready 
 for the seed. 
 
 Therefore look up, sad spirit; be strong, thou 
 coward heart, 
 
 Or fear will make thee wretched, though evil follow 
 not behind. 
 
 Cease to anticipate misfortune,—there are still many 
 chances of escape ; 
 
 But if it come, be courageous, face it and conquer 
 thy calamity. 
 
 There is not an enemy so stout as to storm and take 
 the fortress of the mind, 
 
 Unless its infirmity turn traitor, and fear unbar the 
 gates. 
 
 1 
 
ANXIETY 
 
 39 
 
 ANXIOUS 
 
 The valiant standeth as a rock, and the billows 
 break upon him : 
 
 The timorous is a skiff unmoor’d, toss’d and mock’d 
 at by a ripple ; 
 
 The valiant holdeth fast to good, till evil wrench it 
 from him ; 
 
 The timorous casteth it aside, to meet the worst half 
 way : 
 
 Yet oftentimes is evil but a braggart, that provoketh 
 and will not fight; 
 
 Or the feint of a subtle fencer, who measureth his 
 thrust elsewhere ; 
 
 Or perchance a blessing in a masque, sent to try thy 
 trust, 
 
 The precious smiting of a friend whose frowns are 
 all in love ; 
 
 Often the storm threateneth, but is driven to other 
 climes, 
 
 And the weak hath quail’d in fear, while the firm 
 hath been glad in his confidence. 
 
 Tapper. 
 
 192. ANXIETY : needless. 
 
 Let nothing make thee sad or fretful 
 Or too regretful, 
 
 Be still— 
 
 What God hath order’d must be right; 
 
 Then find in it thine own delight, 
 
 His will. 
 
 Why should’st thou fill to-day with sorrow 
 About to-morrow, 
 
 My heart ? 
 
 One watches all with care most true, 
 
 Doubt not that He will give thee too 
 Thy part. 
 
 Only be steadfast; never waver, 
 
 Nor seek earth’s favour, 
 
 But rest; 
 
 Thou knowest that God’s will must be 
 For all His creatures, so for thee, 
 
 The best.— Paul Flemming. 
 
 Shall I o’er the future fret, 
 
 And the past for aye regret ? 
 
 Shall I ne’er at evening close 
 Smiling eyes in calm repose ? 
 
 Shall the thought be ne’er forgot, 
 
 What may be my future lot ? 
 
 Since these torturing cares are vain, 
 
 And their end can ne’er attain. 
 
 God hath kept me hitherto ; 
 
 Can He cease, then, to be true ? 
 
 Why should I just now despair, 
 
 Can He weary of His care ? 
 
 Hence, tormenting terrors, hence ! 
 
 God shall be my confidence ; 
 
 Let Him lead me as He will, 
 
 O my soul, and be thou still. 
 
 From the German of P. J. Spener. 
 
 Why art thou full of anxious fear 
 
 How thou shalt be sustain’d and fed? 
 
 He who hath made, and placed thee here, 
 
 Will give thee needful daily bread. 
 
 193. ANXIETY : unfilial. 
 
 Consider, were it filial in a child 
 To speak in such wise : ‘ Father, though I know 
 How strong your love is, having proved it so 
 Since my first breath was drawn ; and though you’ve 
 piled 
 
 Your stores with anxious care, that has beguiled 
 You oft of rest, that thus you might bestow 
 Blessings upon me when your head lies low, 
 
 Yet in my heart are doubts unreconciled. 
 
 To-morrow, when I hunger, can I be 
 Sure that for bread you will not give a clod, 
 
 Letting me starve the while you hold in fee 
 (O’erlooking lesser needs) the acres broad 
 Won for me through your ceaseless toil?’ Yet 
 we, 
 
 In just such fashion, dare to doubt of God ! 
 
 Margaret J. Preston. 
 
 194. ANXIETY: unwise. 
 
 Be not over-exquisite 
 To cast the fashion of uncertain evils : 
 
 For grant they be so, while they rest unknowm, 
 What need a man forestall his date of grief, 
 
 And run to meet what he would most avoid ? 
 
 Milton. 
 
 195. ANXIOUS. Counsel and Comfort for the 
 
 Commit thy way to God ; 
 
 The weight which makes thee faint— 
 Worlds are to Him no load ! 
 
 To Him breathe thy complaint. 
 
 He who for winds and clouds 
 Maketh a pathway free, 
 
 Through wastes or hostile crowds 
 Can make a way for thee. 
 
 Hope, then, though woes be doubled, 
 
 Hope, and be undismay’cl; 
 
 Let not thine heart be troubled, 
 
 Nor let it be afraid. 
 
 This prison where thou art, 
 
 Thy God will break it soon, 
 
 And flood with light thy heart, 
 
 In His own blessed noon. 
 
APPAREL 
 
 APPEARANCES 
 
 - 40 
 
 Up, up, the day is breaking, 
 
 Say to thy cares, Good night! 
 
 Thy troubles from thee shaking 
 Like dreams in day’s fresh light. 
 
 Thou wearest not the crown, 
 
 Nor the best course canst tell; 
 
 God sitteth on the throne, 
 
 And guideth all things well. 
 
 Trust Him to govern, then : 
 
 No king can rule like Him. 
 
 How wilt thou wonder when 
 Thine eyes no more see dim, 
 
 To see those paths which vex thee, 
 
 How wise they were and meet; 
 
 The works which now perplex thee, 
 
 How beautiful, complete ! 
 
 Faithful the love thou sharest; 
 
 All, all is well with thee ; 
 
 The crown from hence thou bearest 
 With shouts of victory. 
 
 In thy right hand to-morrow 
 Thy God shall place the palms. 
 
 To Him who chased thy sorrow, 
 
 How glad will be thy psalms ! 
 
 Paul Gerhardt . 
 
 196. APPAREL. Costly 
 
 POOR soul, the centre of my sinful earth, 
 
 Fool’d by those rebel powers that thee array, 
 
 Why dost thou pine within, and suffer dearth, 
 Painting thy outward walls so costly gay ? 
 
 Why so large cost, having so short a lease, 
 
 Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend ? 
 
 Shall worms, inheritors of this excess, 
 
 Eat up thy charge ? Is this thy body’s end ? 
 
 Then soul, live thou upon thy servant’s loss, 
 
 And let that pine to aggravate thy store ; 
 
 Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross ; 
 
 Within be fed, without be rich no more : 
 
 So shalt thou feed on death, that feeds on men ; 
 
 And, death once dead, there’s no more dying 
 
 then.— Shakespeare. 
 
 197. APPAREL. Poor 
 
 Our purses shall be- proud, our garments poor ; 
 For ’tis 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. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 198. APPAREL. Seemly 
 
 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 shy of breast-pins ; plain, well-iron’d, white, 
 With small pearl buttons,—two of them in 
 sight,— 
 
 Is always genuine, while your gems may pass, 
 Though real diamonds, for ignoble glass. 
 
 0. IV. Holmes. 
 
 199. APPEARANCES. Care for 
 
 Appearances to save, his only care ; 
 
 So things seem right, no matter what they are. 
 
 Churchill. 
 
 200. APPEARANCES : deceptive. 
 
 Appearances deceive, 
 
 And this one maxim is a standing rule,— 
 
 Men are not what they seem.— Havard. 
 
 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. 
 
 ’Tis not the fairest form that holds 
 The mildest, purest soul within ; 
 
 ’Tis not the richest plant that folds 
 
 The sweetest breath of fragrance in.— Darves. 
 
 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. 
 
A PPE A RA NCE S 
 
 4i 
 
 ARGUMENT 
 
 The wicked giant, Bali, had obtain’d 
 
 Supreme control from heaven down to hell; 
 
 He all the humbler deities had chain’d ; 
 
 Like rain his cruelties unmeasured fell. 
 
 The highest gods in fear a session call’d, 
 
 And argued vengeful plans for many an hour : 
 
 From far below he upward look’d, and brawl’d 
 An arrogant defiance to their power. 
 
 At length divinest Vishnu forward stepp’d, 
 
 While round the senate mighty plaudits ran, 
 
 And vow’d himself—his consort Lakshim wept— 
 The foe to disenthrone, and ransom man. 
 
 The heavenly synod praised him, though they fear’d 
 His failure through some one of million harms. 
 
 On earth, a puny man, he soon appear’d, 
 
 And,, as a beggar, ask’d of Bali alms. 
 
 ‘ What wouldst thou have ? ’ the horrid despot said, 
 And gave the shrinking dwarf a scornful glance. 
 
 O fool ! premonish’d by no mystic dread, 
 
 And reading nought beneath that countenance ! 
 
 The little timid mendicant replies, 
 
 ‘ Give me so much of thy dominion’s space— 
 
 The boon is small, but will for me suffice— 
 
 As I can only by three steppings pace.’ 
 
 The blinded Bali, mocking, gave assent, 
 
 And look’d upon him with contemptuous eye. 
 
 Swift grew the dwarf through such immense extent, 
 That one step spann’d the earth, one more , the sky ! 
 
 Then looking round, with haughty voice he said, 
 
 ‘ The third where shall I take ? O Bali, tell! ’ 
 
 At Vishnu’s feet the tyrant placed his head, 
 
 And instantaneously was thrust to hell. 
 
 Oriental , tr. by W. R. Alger. 
 
 A palace may unfold its gates, 
 
 And show its gilded halls, 
 
 While at the gates no gladness waits, 
 
 No joyful footstep falls. 
 
 A prison may have iron bars, 
 
 And vails of massive stone, 
 
 Yet through the bars may shine the stars 
 Of light and love alone. 
 
 A home may show to outward view 
 A dome of crystal light, 
 
 While to a few, who see things through, 
 There reigns the gloom of night. 
 
 But many a home all dark to sight, 
 
 Through poverty and cares, 
 
 Is full of light in darkest night, 
 
 For angels walk the stairs. 
 
 201. APPEARANCES. False 
 
 Like a vessel at sea, amid sunshine and song, 
 
 Gayly we glide, in the gaze of the world, 
 
 With streamers afloat, and with canvas unfurl’d ; 
 
 All gladness and glory to wondering eyes, 
 
 Yet chai-ter’d by sorrow, and freighted with sighs ! -- 
 Fading and false is the aspect it wears, 
 
 As the smiles we put on—just to cover our tears, 
 
 And the withering thoughts which the world cannot 
 know, 
 
 Like heart-broken exiles, lie burning below ; 
 
 While the vessel drives on to that desolate shore 
 Where the dreams of our childhood are vanish’d and 
 o’er !— IJervey. 
 
 And, like the Spartan boy, to smile, and smile, 
 While secret wounds do bleed beneath our cloaks. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 202. ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 Let my due feet never fail 
 To walk the studious cloisters pale, 
 
 And love the high embowed roof, 
 
 With antique pillars massy proof; 
 
 And storied windows richly dight, 
 
 Casting a dim religious light.— Milton. 
 
 Whene’er we view some well-proportion’d dome, 
 No single parts unequally surprise ; 
 
 All comes united to th’ admiring eyes. — Rope. 
 
 203. 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 sickness or his poverty ? 
 
 In love I should : but anger is not love, 
 
 Nor wisdom neither; therefore-gently move. 
 
 Calmness is great advantage : he that lets 
 Another chafe, may warm him at his fire ; 
 
 Mark all his wanderings, and enjoy his frets, 
 
 As cunning fencers suffer heat to tire. 
 
 Truth dwells not in the clouds : the tower that’s 
 there 
 
 Doth often aim at, never hit, the sphere.— Herbert. 
 
 Let argument bear no unmusical sound, 
 
 Nor jars interpose, sacred friendship to grieve. 
 
 Ben Jonson. 
 
 In argument with men a woman ever 
 
 Goes by the worse, whatever be her cause.— Milton. 
 
 When men argue, th’ greatest part 
 O’ the contest falls on terms of art, 
 
ARMOUR 
 
 42 
 
 ASCENSION 
 
 Until the fustian stuff be spent, 
 
 And then they fall to th’ argument.— Butler. 
 
 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. 
 
 He could on either side dispute, 
 
 Confute, change hands, and still confute. 
 
 Butler. 
 
 It is in vain, 
 
 I see, to argue against 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. 
 
 A man convinced against his will 
 Is of the same opinion still.— Butler. 
 
 Why do disputes in wrangling spend the day,— 
 Whilst one says only ‘Yes,’and t’other ‘Nay’? 
 
 Denhatn. 
 
 In argument, 
 
 Similes are like songs in love : 
 
 They much describe, they nothing prove.— Prior. 
 
 Who shall decide when doctors disagree, 
 
 And soundest casuists doubt, like you and me ? 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Like doctors too, when much dispute has pass’d 
 We find our tenets just the same at last.— Pope. 
 
 204. ARMOUR. Dying in 
 
 Oh, is it not a noble thing to die 
 As dies the Christian, with his armour on !— 
 What is the hero’s clarion, though its blast 
 Ring with the mastery of a world, to this ?— 
 
 What are the searching victories of mind—• 
 
 The lore of vanish’d ages ?—What are all 
 The trumpetings of proud humanity, 
 
 To the short history of him who made 
 His sepulchre beside the King of kings ? 
 
 N. P. Willis. 
 
 205. ART. Impression of 
 
 Art may tell a truth 
 
 Obliquely, do the thing shall breed the thought, 
 
 Nor wrong the thought, missing the mediate word. 
 So may you paint your picture, twice show truth, 
 Beyond mere imagery on the wall,— 
 
 So, note by note, bring music from your mind, 
 Deeper than ever the Andante dived,— 
 
 So write a book shall mean beyond the facts, 
 
 Suffice the eye and save the soul beside. 
 
 Robert Browning. 
 
 206. ART. Necessity of 
 
 The whole world, without art and dress, 
 Would be but one great wilderness, 
 
 And mankind but a savage herd, 
 
 For all that nature has conferr’d : 
 
 This does but roughen and design, 
 
 Leaves art to polish and refine.— Butler. 
 
 207. ART. Votaries of 
 
 What is thy worship but a vain pretence, 
 
 Spirit of beauty, and a servile trade, 
 
 A poor and an unworthy traffic made 
 With the most sacred gifts of soul and sense ; 
 
 If they who tend thine altars, gathering thence 
 No strength, no purity, may still remain 
 Selfish and dark, and from life’s sordid stain 
 Find in their ministrations no defence? 
 
 —Thus many times I ask, when aught of mean 
 Or sensual has been brought unto mine ear, 
 
 Of them whose calling high is to insphere 
 Eternal beauty in forms of human art— 
 
 Vex’d that my soul should ever moved have been 
 By that which has such feigning at the heart. 
 
 Trench. 
 
 208. 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 mis¬ 
 chief ! 
 
 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. 
 
 O fate of fools ! officious in contriving ; 
 
 In executing, puzzled, lame, and lost.— Congreve. 
 
 A man of sense can artifice disdain, 
 
 As men of wealth may venture to go plain. — Young. 
 
 209. ASCENSION. Christ’s 
 
 It was a golden eventide. The sun 
 Was sinking through the roseate clouds to rest 
 Beneath the Western waves. But purer light 
 And vestments woven of more glorious hues, 
 
 Albeit invisible to mortal eyes, 
 
 Gladden’d the heavens. For there the hosts of God, 
 
ASCENSION 
 
 43 
 
 ASCENSION 
 
 Ten thousand times ten thousand, tier on tier, 
 Marshall’d by Gabriel, fill’d the firmament. 
 
 Every eye was bent 
 
 Upon the Saviour, as He stood amongst 
 
 The apostolic group, and lifted up 
 
 His hands and bless’d them, and in blessing rose, 
 
 No wind, no car, no cherubim of fire 
 Ministrant, in His Father’s might self-moved, 
 
 Into the glowing sky ; until a cloud 
 
 Far floating in the zenith, which had drunk 
 
 Of the last sunbeams, wrapt His radiant form, 
 
 And instantly became like light itself, 
 
 Then melted into viewless air. 
 
 ‘ Lift up your heads, ye gates ! 
 
 Be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors ! 
 
 Up, and the King of glory shall come in.’ 
 
 Immediate, like an echo from those ranks 
 Guarding the heavenly citadel, the voice 
 Of myriads perfectly attuned as one, 
 
 Came back the peal of joyful challenge, ‘ Who, 
 
 Who is the King of glory?’—and from ours 
 The jubilant response, ‘ The Lord of hosts, 
 
 Mighty in battle against the powers of hell, 
 
 Jehovah, King of glory ! Lift your heads ! 
 
 Be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors ! 
 
 Up, and the King of glory shall come in.’ 
 
 ‘ Who is the King of glory ? ’ yet again 
 Peal’d from those opening gates. ‘ The Lord of 
 hosts ; 
 
 He is the King of glory,’ broke once more 
 In waves of thunder on those jasper walls, 
 
 Which never shook till now. And, host with host 
 Commingling, through the portals on we swept. 
 
 E. H. Bickersteth. 
 
 210. ASCENSION. Christ’s 
 
 Hail the day that sees Him rise, 
 
 Ravish’d from our wishful eyes ! 
 
 Christ, awhile to mortals given, 
 
 Re-ascends His native heaven. 
 
 There the pompous triumph waits: 
 
 ‘ Lift your heads, eternal gates, 
 
 Wide unfold the radiant scene ; 
 
 Take the King of glory in ! ’ 
 
 Circled round with angel powers, 
 
 Their triumphant Lord and ours, 
 
 Conqueror over death and sin ; 
 
 Take the King of glory in ! 
 
 Him though highest heaven receives, 
 
 Still He loves the earth He leaves ; 
 
 Though returning to His throne, 
 
 Still He calls mankind His own. 
 
 See, He lifts His hands above ! 
 
 See, He shows the prints of love ! 
 
 Hark ! His gracious lips bestow 
 Blessings on His Church below ! 
 
 Still for us His death He pleads ; 
 Prevalent He intercedes ; 
 
 Near Himself prepares our place, 
 Harbinger of human race. 
 
 Master (will we ever say), 
 
 Taken from our head to-day, 
 
 See Thy faithful servants, see, 
 
 Ever gazing up to Thee. 
 
 Grant, though parted from our sight, 
 High above yon azure height, 
 
 Grant our hearts may thither rise, 
 Following Thee beyond the skies. 
 
 Ever upward let us move, 
 
 Wafted on the wings of love ; 
 
 Looking when our Lord shall come, 
 Longing, gasping after home. 
 
 There we shall with Thee remain, 
 Partners of Thy endless reign ; 
 
 There Thy face unclouded see, 
 
 Find our heaven of heavens in Thee. 
 
 Wesley. 
 
 211. ASCENSION. Christ’s 
 
 Lo, God to heaven ascendeth ! 
 
 Throughout its regions vast, 
 
 With shouts triumphant blendeth 
 The trumpet’s thrilling blast : 
 
 Sing praise to Christ the Lord, 
 
 Sing praise with exultation, 
 
 King of each heathen nation, 
 
 The God of Hosts adored ! 
 
 With joy is heaven resounding, 
 
 Christ’s glad return to see ; 
 
 Behold the saints surrounding 
 The Lord who set them free : 
 
 Bright myriads thronging come ; 
 
 The cherub band rejoices, 
 
 And loud seraphic voices 
 Welcome Messiah home. 
 
 No more the way is hidden, 
 
 Since Christ our Head arose : 
 
 No more to man forbidden 
 The road to heaven that goes. 
 
 Our Lord is gone before, 
 
 But here He will not leave us ; 
 
 In heaven He’ll soon receive us : 
 
 He opens wide the door. 
 
ASCENSION 
 
 44 
 
 ASPIRATION 
 
 Christ is our place preparing, 
 
 To heaven we, too, shall rise, 
 
 And, joys angelic sharing, 
 
 Be where our treasure lies : 
 
 There may each heart be found ! 
 
 Where Jesus Christ has enter’d, 
 
 There let our hopes be centred, 
 
 Our course still heavenward bound ! 
 
 G. F. Sacer, tr. by Miss Cox. 
 
 212. ASCENSION. Christ’s 
 
 He is gone—we heard Him say, 
 
 ‘ Good that I should go away : ’ 
 
 Gone is that dear form and face, 
 
 But not gone His present grace ; 
 
 Though Himself no more we see, 
 Comfortless we cannot be— 
 
 No ! His Spirit still is ours, 
 
 Quickening, freshening all our powers. 
 
 He is gone—towards their goal, 
 
 World and church must onward roll; 
 
 Far behind we leave the past; 
 
 Forward are our glances cast : 
 
 Still His words before us range 
 Through the ages, as they change : 
 Wheresoe’er the truth shall lead, 
 
 He will give whate’er we need. 
 
 He is gone—but we once more 
 Shall behold Him as before, 
 
 In the heaven of heavens the same 
 As on earth He went and came. 
 
 In the many mansions there, 
 
 Place for us He will prepare: 
 
 In that world, unseen, unknown, 
 
 He and we may yet be one. 
 
 He is gone—but, not in vain, 
 
 Wait until He comes again : 
 
 He is risen, He is not here ; 
 
 Far above this earthly sphere : 
 
 Evermore in heart and mind, 
 
 Where our peace in Him we find, 
 
 To our own Eternal Friend, 
 
 Thitherward let us ascend.— A. P. Stanley . 
 
 213. ASPIRATION : and Attainment. 
 
 Yet cease I not to struggle, and aspire 
 Heavenward ; and chide the part of me that flags, 
 Through sinful choice ; or dread necessity 
 On human nature from above imposed. 
 
 ’Tis, by comparison, an easy task 
 
 Earth to despise ; but to converse with heaven,— 
 
 This is not easy :—to relinquish all 
 
 We have, or hope, of happiness and joy, 
 
 And stand in freedom loosen’d from this world, 
 
 I deem not arduous ; but must needs confess 
 That ’tis a thing impossible to frame 
 Conceptions equal to the soul’s desire ; 
 
 And the most difficult of tasks to keep 
 Heights which the soul is competent to gain. 
 
 Man is of dust: ethereal hopes are his, 
 
 Which, when they should sustain themselves aloft, 
 Want due consistence ; like a pillar of smoke, 
 
 That with majestic energy from earth 
 Rises ; but, having reach’d the thinner air, 
 
 Melts and dissolves, and is no longer seen. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 214. ASPIRATION. Heavenward 
 
 The bird, let loose in eastern skies, 
 
 When hastening fondly home. 
 
 Ne’er stoops to earth her wing, nor flies 
 Where idle warblers roam ; 
 
 But high she shoots through air and light, 
 Above all low delay, 
 
 Where nothing earthly bounds her flight, 
 
 Nor shadow dims her way. 
 
 So grant me, God, from every care 
 And stain of passion free, 
 
 Aloft, through Virtue’s purer air, 
 
 To hold my course to Thee ! 
 
 No sin to cloud, no lure to stay 
 My Soul, as home she springs;— 
 
 Thy Sunshine on her joyful way, 
 
 Thy Freedom in her wings !— Moore. 
 
 215. ASPIRATION. Sympathy in 
 
 Countless chords of heavenly music, 
 
 Struck ere earthly time began, 
 
 Vibrate in immortal concord 
 To the answering soul of man. 
 
 Countless rays of heavenly glory 
 Shine through spirit pent in clay, 
 
 On the wise men at their labours, 
 
 On the children at their play. 
 
 Man has gazed on heavenly secrets, 
 
 Sunn’d himself in heavenly glow, 
 
 Seen the glory, heard the music ; 
 
 We are wiser than we know. 
 
 Charles Mackay. 
 
 216. ASPIRATION. Worth of 
 
 Beauty and Truth, though never found, are worthy 
 to be sought, 
 
 The singer, upward-springing, 
 
 Is grander than his singing, 
 
 And tranquil self-sufficing joy illumes the dark of 
 thought.— Robei't Buchanan. 
 
ASSOC/A TION 
 
 45 
 
 ASTROLOGY 
 
 217. ASSOCIATION. Adjustment of 
 
 Who, think’st thou, in the courts of Heaven reside ? 
 They, who with malice burn, with envy pine, 
 
 Ply the full feast and quaff the midnight wine, 
 Loose pleasure’s daughters, and the sons of pride ? 
 They who from meek affliction turn aside, 
 
 Its plaints unheard ; and bow at Mammon’s shrine, 
 Moloch’s, or Bel’s ; and, blind to truth divine, 
 Neglect God’s mercy, and His power deride? 
 
 If such Heaven’s inmates, well thou runn’st thy race, 
 Man of the world ! But ah ! let conscience tell, 
 If holy hearts the holy city grace, 
 
 What part hast thou therein ; and ponder well, 
 Yea, ponder well betimes that other place, 
 
 And who its tenants, and with whom they dwell. 
 
 Mant. 
 
 218. ASSOCIATION. Influence of 
 
 A fragrant piece of earth salutes 
 Each passenger, and perfume shoots, 
 
 Unlike the common earth or sod, 
 
 Around through all the air abroad. 
 
 A pilgrim near it once did rest, 
 
 And took it up, and thus address’d: 
 
 ‘ Art thou a lump of musk ? or art 
 A ball of spice, this smell t’ impart 
 To all who chance to travel by 
 The spot where thou, like earth, dost lie ? 
 Humbly the clod replied : ‘ I must 
 Confess that I am only dust. 
 
 But once a rose within me grew : 
 
 Its rootlets shot, its flowerets blew, 
 
 And all the rose’s sweetness roll’d 
 Throughout the texture of my mould ; 
 
 And so it is that I impart 
 Perfume to thee, whoe’er thou art! ’ 
 
 Oriental , tr. by W. R. Alger. 
 
 219. ASSOCIATION. Lesson of 
 
 Those evening bells ! those evening bells ! 
 
 How many a tale their music tells 
 Of youth, and home, and that sweet time 
 When last I heard their soothing chime ! 
 
 Those joyous hours have pass’d away, 
 
 And many a heart that then was gay 
 Within the tomb now darkly dwells, 
 
 And hears no more those evening bells. 
 
 And so ’twill be when I am gone,— 
 
 That tuneful peal will still ring on ; 
 
 While other bards shall walk these dells 
 And sing your praise, sweet evening bells. 
 
 Moore. 
 
 220. ASSOCIATION. Local 
 
 And who, that walks where men of ancient days 
 Have wrought with godlike arm the deeds of praise, 
 Feels not the spirit of the place control, 
 
 Or rouse and agitate his labouring soul ? 
 
 Say, who, by thinking on Canadian hills, 
 
 Or wild Aosta lull’d by Alpine rills, 
 
 On Zutphen’s plain, or on that highland dell 
 Through which rough Garry cleaves his way, can 
 tell 
 
 What high resolves rivet him to the spot, 
 
 Where breathed the gale that caught Wolfe’s hap¬ 
 piest sigh, 
 
 And the last sunbeam fell on Bayard’s eye ; 
 
 Where bleeding Sidney from the cup retired, 
 
 And glad Dundee in * faint huzzas ’ expired. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 221. ASSOCIATION. Ties of 
 
 Two faithful needles, from the informing touch 
 Of the same parent-stone, together drew 
 Its mystic virtue, and at first conspired 
 With fatal impulse quivering to the pole : 
 
 Then, though disjoin’d by kingdoms, though the 
 main 
 
 Roll’d its broad surge betwixt, and different stars 
 Beheld their wakeful motions, yet preserved 
 The former friendship, and remember’d still 
 The alliance of their birth : whate’er the line 
 Which one possess’d, nor pause nor quiet knew 
 The sure associate, ere with trembling speed 
 He found his path, and fix’d unerring there. 
 
 Such is the secret union where we feel 
 A song, a flower, a name, at once restore 
 Those long-connected scenes where first they moved 
 The attention.— Akenside. 
 
 222. ASSOCIATION. Wise 
 
 As the rose doth its fragrance impart 
 To the basket in which it is laid, 
 
 Whether wrought of pure gold or of braid ; 
 
 So, receiving wise men in thy heart, 
 
 Thou shalt find, when their persons depart, 
 
 That their wisdom behind them hath stay’d. 
 
 Oriental , tr. by W. R. Alger. 
 
 223. ASTROLOGY. 
 
 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. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Man is his own star, and the soul that can 
 Render an honest and a perfect man, 
 
ASTRONOMY 
 
 46 
 
 ATHEISM 
 
 Commands all light, all influence, all fate— 
 Nothing to him falls early or too late. 
 
 Our acts our angels are, or good or ill, 
 
 Our fatal shadows, that walk by us still. 
 
 Beaumont and Fletcher. 
 
 224. ASTRONOMY. Devotional 
 
 One sun by day, by night ten thousand shine, 
 
 And light us deep into the Deity. . . . 
 
 How boundless in magnificence and might ! 
 
 O, what a confluence of ethereal fires, 
 
 From urns unnumber’d, down the steep of heaven, 
 Streams to a point, and centres in my sight! 
 
 Nor tarries there. ... I feel it at my heart, 
 
 My heart at once it humbles and exalts— 
 
 Lays it in dust, and calls it to the skies. 
 
 Who sees it unexalted ? or unawed ? 
 
 Who sees it, and can stop at what is seen ? 
 
 Material offspring of Omnipotence ! 
 
 Inanimate, all animating birth ! 
 
 Work worthy Him who made it ! worthy praise ! 
 
 All praise ! praise more than human ! nor denied 
 Thy praise divine ! But though man, drown’d in 
 sleep, 
 
 Withholds his homage, not alone I wake : 
 
 Bright legions swarm unseen, and sing (unheard 
 By mortal ear) the glorious Architect, 
 
 In this his universal temple, hung 
 With lustres, with innumerable lights, 
 
 That shed religion on the soul—at once, 
 
 The temple, and the preacher ! O, how loud 
 It calls devotion ! genuine growth of night. 
 
 Devotion ! daughter of astronomy ! 
 
 An undevout astronomer is mad. 
 
 True, all things speak a God ; but in the small, 
 Men trace out Him—in great, He seizes man ; 
 Seizes, and elevates, and wraps, and fills 
 With new inquiries, ’mid associates new.— Young. 
 
 225. ATHEISM. Blight of 
 
 They eat 
 
 Their daily bread and draw the breath of Heaven 
 Without or thought or thanks. Heaven’s roof, to 
 them, 
 
 Is but a painted ceiling hung with lamps, 
 
 No more, that lights them to their purposes. 
 
 They wander loose about; they nothing see, 
 Themselves except, and creatures like themselves, 
 Short-lived, short-sighted, impotent to save. 
 
 To their dissolute spirits, soon or late, 
 
 Destruction cometh, like an armed man, 
 
 Or like a dream of murder in the night, 
 Withering their mortal faculties, and breaking 
 The bones of all their pride.— Charles Lamb . 
 
 226. ATHEISM. Causes of 
 
 Virtue in distress, and vice in triumph, 
 Make atheists of mankind.— Dryden. 
 
 227. ATHEISM. Contradiction of 
 
 ‘ No God ! no God ! ’ the simplest flower 
 That on the wild is found, 
 
 Shrinks as it drinks its cup of dew, 
 
 And trembles at the sound. 
 
 ‘ No God ! ’ astonish’d Echo cries 
 From out her cavern hoar : 
 
 And every wand’ring bird that flies 
 Reproves the Atheist lore. 
 
 The solemn forest lifts his head, 
 
 The Almighty to proclaim ; 
 
 The brooklet, on its crystal urn, 
 
 Doth leap to grave His name. 
 
 High swells the deep and vengeful sea 
 Along its billowy track, 
 
 And red Vesuvius opes his mouth 
 
 To hurl the falsehood back.— Sigourney. 
 
 228. ATHEISM: Desolation of 
 
 O ! lives there, heaven! beneath thy drea< 
 expanse, 
 
 One hopeless, dark idolater of Chance, 
 
 Content to feed, with pleasures unrefined, 
 
 The lukewarm passions of a lowly mind ; 
 
 Who, mouldering earthward, ’reft of every trust, 
 In joyless union wedded to the dust, 
 
 Could all his parting energy dismiss, 
 
 And call this barren world sufficient bliss ?— 
 There live, alas ! of heaven-directed mien, 
 
 Of cultured soul, and sapient eye serene, 
 
 Who hail thee, man ! the pilgrim of a day, 
 Spouse of the worm, and brother of the clay ! 
 Frail as the leaf in Autumn’s yellow bower, 
 
 Dust in the wind, or dew upon the flower ! 
 
 A friendless slave, a child without a sire, 
 
 Whose mortal life, and momentary fire, 
 
 Lights to the grave his chance-created form, 
 
 As ocean-wrecks illuminate the storm ; 
 
 And, when th gun’s tremendous flash is o’er, 
 
 To night and silence sink for evermore !— 
 
 Are these the pompous tidings ye proclaim, 
 Lights of the world, and demi-gods of fame ? 
 
 Is this your triumph—this your proud applause. 1 
 Children of Truth, and champions of her cause? 
 For this hath Science search’d, on weary wing, 
 
 By shore and sea—each mute and living thing ? 
 Oh ! star-eyed Science, hast thou wander’d there 
 To waft us home the message of despair?— 
 
A THEISM 47 A TONEMENT 
 
 
 Then bind the palm, thy sage’s brow to suit, 
 
 Of blasted leaf, and death-distilling fruit ! 
 
 Ah me ! the laurell’d wreath that murder rears, 
 Blood-nursed, and water’d by the widow’s tears, 
 Seems not so foul, so tainted, and so dread, 
 
 As waves the nightshade round the sceptic’s head. 
 What is the bigot’s torch, the tyrant’s chain ? 
 
 I smile on death, if heavenward hope remain ! 
 
 But, if the warring winds of Nature’s strife 
 Be all the faithless charter of my life, 
 
 If Chance awaked, inexorable power ! 
 
 This frail and feverish being of an hour, 
 
 Doom’d o’er the world’s precarious scene to sweep, 
 Swift as the tempest travels on the deep, 
 
 To know Delight but by her parting smile, 
 
 And toil, and wish, and weep, a little while ; 
 
 Then melt, ye elements, that form’d in vain 
 This troubled pulse, and visionary brain ! 
 
 Fade, ye wild flowers, memorials of my doom ! 
 And sink, ye stars, that light me to the tomb ! 
 Truth, ever lovely, since the world began, 
 
 The foe of tyrants, and the friend of man,— 
 
 How can thy words from balmy slumber start 
 Reposing Virtue, pillow’d on the heart! 
 
 Yet, if thy voice the note of thunder roll’d, 
 
 And that were true which Nature never told, 
 
 Let Wisdom smile not on her conquer’d field : 
 
 No rapture dawns, no treasure is reveal’d ! 
 
 Oh ! let her read, nor loudly, nor elate, 
 
 The doom that bars us from a better fate ! 
 
 But, sad as angels for the good man’s sin, 
 
 Weep to record, and blush to give it in ! 
 
 Campbell. 
 
 229. ATHEISM : often falsely imputed. 
 
 When prejudice and strong aversion work, 
 
 All whose opinions we dislike are atheists. 
 
 Now ’tis a term of art, a bugbear 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. 
 
 230. ATHEISM. Wilful 
 
 The owlet Atheism, 
 
 Sailing on obscene wings across the moon, 
 
 Drops his blue-fringed lids and shuts them close, 
 And, hooting at the glorious sun in Heaven, 
 
 Cries out, * Where is it?’—A. T. Coleridge. 
 
 231. ATHEIST. Labour of the 
 
 The unbeliever, 
 
 Despising reason, revelation, God, 
 
 And kicking ’gainst the pricks of conscience, rush’d 
 Deliriously upon the bossy shield 
 Of the Omnipotent; and in his heart 
 Purposed to deify the idol Chance. 
 
 And labour’d hard—oh, labour worse than nought ! 
 And toil’d with dark and crooked reasoning, 
 
 To make the fair and lovely Earth, which dwelt 
 In sight of Heaven, a cold and fatherless, 
 
 Forsaken thing, that wander’d on, forlorn, 
 Undestined, uncompassion’d, unupheld; 
 
 A vapour eddying in the whirl of chance, 
 
 And soon to vanish everlastingly. 
 
 He travail’d sorely, and made many a tack, 
 
 His sails oft shifting, to arrive—dread thought— 
 Arrive at utter nothingness ; and have 
 Being no more—no feeling, memory, 
 
 No lingering consciousness that e’er he was. 
 
 Guilt’s midnight wish ! last, most abhorred thought, 
 Most desperate effort of extremest sin. 
 
 Others, preoccupied, ne’er saw true hope ; 
 
 He, seeing, aim’d to stab her to the heart, 
 
 And with infernal chemistry to wring 
 
 The last sweet drop from sorrow’s cup of gall; 
 
 To quench the only ray that cheer’d the earth, 
 
 And leave mankind in night which had no star. 
 Others the streams of pleasure troubled ; he 
 Toil’d much to dry her very fountain-head. 
 Unpardonable man ! sold under sin ! 
 
 He was the Devil’s pioneer, who cut 
 The fences down of Virtue, sapp’d her walls, 
 
 And open’d a smooth and easy way to death. 
 Traitor to all existence ! to all life ! 
 
 Soul-suicide ! determined foe of being ! 
 
 Intended murderer of God, Most High ! 
 
 Strange road, most strange ! to seek for happiness ! 
 
 Pollok. 
 
 232. ATONEMENT. Completeness of the 
 
 Lord, I believe Thy precious blood, 
 
 Which at the mercy-seat of God 
 For ever doth for sinners plead, 
 
 For me—e’en for my soul—was shed. 
 
 Lord, I believe were sinners more 
 Than sands upon the ocean shore, 
 
 Thou hast for all a ransom paid, 
 
 For all a full atonement made. 
 
 John IVesley. 
 
 233. ATONEMENT. Demand for 
 
 With blood—but not his own—the awful sign 
 At once of sin’s desert and guilt’s remission. 
 
ATONEMENT 
 
 48 
 
 A TTAINMENT 
 
 > 
 
 The Jew besought the clemency divine, 
 
 The hope of mercy blending with contrition. 
 
 Sin must have death ! Its holy requisition 
 The law may not relax. The opening tomb 
 
 Expects its prey ; mere respite, life’s condition ; 
 
 Nor can the body shun its penal doom. 
 
 Yet, there is mercy ; wherefore else delay 
 To punish ? Why the victim and the rite ? 
 
 But can the type and symbol take away 
 The guilt, and for a broken law requite ? 
 
 The cross unfolds the mystery,—Jesus died : 
 
 The sinner lives : the Law is satisfied. 
 
 With blood—but not his own—the Jew drew near 
 The mercy-seat, and Heaven received his prayer. 
 
 Yet still his hope was dimm’d with doubt and fear : 
 
 ‘ If Thou shouldst mark transgression who might 
 dare 
 
 To stand before Thee ? ’ Mercy loves to spare 
 And pardon : but stern Justice has a voice, 
 
 And cries—Our God is holy, nor can bear 
 Uncleanness in the people of His choice. 
 
 But now One Offering, ne’er to be renew’d, 
 
 Hath made our peace for ever. This now gives 
 
 Free access to the Throne of Heavenly Grace,— 
 
 No more base fear and dark disquietude. 
 
 He who was slam—the Accepted Victim—lives, 
 
 And intercedes Defore the Father’s face. 
 
 Josiah Cornier. 
 
 Shame and iniquity hath whelm’d me over : 
 
 From head to foot no good couldst thou discover; 
 For this in hell should I, with deep lamenting, 
 
 Be aye repenting. 
 
 But oh ! the depth of love beyond comparing, 
 
 That brought Thee down from heaven, our burden 
 bearing ! 
 
 I taste all peace and joy that life can offer, 
 
 Whilst Thou must suffer ! 
 
 Eternal King ! in power and love excelling, 
 
 Fain would my heart and mouth Thy praise be 
 telling ; 
 
 But how can man’s weak powers at all come nigh : 
 Thee, * 
 
 How magnify Thee ? 
 
 Such wondrous love would baffle my endeavour 
 To find its equal, should I strive for ever: 
 
 How should my works, could I in all obey Thee, 
 
 Ever repay Thee ? 
 
 Yet this shall please Thee, if devoutly trying 
 To keep Thy laws, mine own wrong will denying, 
 
 I watch my heart, lest sin again ensnare it 
 And from Thee tear it. 
 
 Johann Heermann, tr. by F. E. Cox. \ 
 
 235. ATONEMENT. Substitution of the 
 
 234. ATONEMENT. Marvel of the 
 
 What laws, my blessed Saviour, hast Thou broken, 
 That so severe a sentence should be spoken ? 
 
 How hast Thou ’gainst Thy Father’s will contended, 
 In what offended ? 
 
 With scourges, blows, and spitting, they reviled Thee; 
 They crown’d Thy brow with thorns, while King they 
 styled Thee; 
 
 When, faint with pains, Thy tortured body suffer’d, 
 Then gall they offer’d. 
 
 Look humbly upward, see His will disclose 
 The forfeit first, and then the fine impose; 
 
 A mulct thy poverty could never pay, 
 
 Had not Eternal Wisdom found the way 
 And with celestial wealth supplied thy store ; 
 
 His justice makes the fine, His mercy quits the score. 
 See God descending in the human frame, 
 
 The offended suffering in th’ offender’s name : 
 
 All thy misdeeds to Him imputed see, 
 
 And all His righteousness devolved on thee. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 Say ! wherefore thus by woes wast Thou surrounded ? 
 Ah! Lord, for my transgressions Thou wast wounded : 
 God took the guilt from me, who should have paid it; 
 On Thee He laid it. 
 
 How strange and marvellous was this correction ! 
 Falls the good Shepherd in His sheep’s protection ; 
 The servants’ debt behold the Master paying, 
 
 For them obeying. 
 
 The righteous dies, who walk’d with God true¬ 
 hearted ; 
 
 The sinner lives, who has from God departed : 
 
 By man came death, yet man its fetters breaketh ; 
 God it o’ertakelh. 
 
 236. ATTAINMENT. Failure of 
 If this mute earth 
 
 Of what it holds could speak, and every grave 
 Were as a volume, shut, yet capable 
 Of yielding its contents to eye and ear, 
 
 We should recoil, stricken with sorrow and shame, 
 To see disclosed, by such dread proof, how ill 
 That which is done accords with what is known 
 To reason, and by conscience is enjoin’d ; 
 
 How idly, how perversely, life’s whole course, 
 
 To this conclusion, deviates from the line, 
 
 Or of the end stops short, proposed to all 
 At her aspiring outset.— Wordsworth . 
 
. 
 
 > 
 
 \ 
 
 A TTAINMENT 
 
 49 
 
 A UTHORITY 
 
 A 
 
 2 37- ATTAINMENT. Mockery of 
 
 -rl 
 
 There are hopes 
 
 Promising well ; and love-touch’d dreams for some 
 And passions, many a wild one ; and fair schemes 
 For gold and pleasure—yet will only this 
 Balk not the soul—Ambition only gives, 
 
 Even of bitterness, a beaker full! 
 
 Friendship is but a slow-awaking dream, 
 
 Troubled at best—Love is a lamp unseen, 
 
 Burning to waste, or, if its light is found, 
 
 Nursed for an idle hour, then idly broken— 
 
 Gain is a grovelling care, and Folly tires, 
 
 And Quiet is a hunger never fed— 
 
 And from Love’s very bosom, and from Gain, 
 
 Or Folly, or a Friend, or from Repose,— 
 
 From all but keen Ambition—will the soul 
 Snatch the first moment of forgetfulness 
 To wander like a restless child away. 
 
 Oh, if there were not better hopes than these— 
 Were there no palm beyond a feverish fame— 
 
 If the proud wealth flung back upon the heart 
 Must canker in its coffer—if the links 
 Falsehood hath broken will unite no more— % 
 
 If the deep-yearning love, that hath not found 
 
 Its like in the cold world, must waste in tears_ 
 
 If truth, and fervour, must return 
 And die of their own fulness—if beyond 
 The grave there is no heaven in whose wide air 
 The spirit may find room, and in the love 
 Of whose bright habitants the lavish heart 
 May spend itself —what thrice-mock'dfools are we/ 
 
 N. P. Willis. 
 
 238. ATI RACT ION : reversed. 
 
 Chains of my heart, avaunt, I say ; 
 
 I will arise, and in the strength of love 
 luisue the bright track, ere it fade away, 
 
 My Saviour’s pathway to His home above. 
 
 Sure, when I reach the point where earth 
 Melts into nothing from the uncumbered sight, 
 Heaven will o’ercome the attraction of my birth, 
 And I shall sink in yonder sea of light. — Keble. 
 
 239. ATTRACTIONS. Earthly 
 
 Farewell, ye gilded follies, pleasing troubles; 
 Farewell, ye honour’d rags, ye glorious bubbles': 
 Fame’s but a hollow echo ; gold, pure clay ; 
 Honour, the darling but of one short day ; 
 Beauty, the idol, but a damask’d skin ; 
 
 State, but a golden prison to live in, 
 
 And torture free-born minds; embroider’d trains. 
 Merely but pageants for proud-swelling veins ; 
 
 And blood applied to greatness, is alone 
 Inherited, not purchased, nor our own : 
 
 Fame, honour, beauty, state, train, blood, and birth 
 Aie but the fading blossoms of the earth. 
 
 Quarles. 
 
 240. AU 1 HOR. Fame of the 
 
 He hath built up, glorious architect, a monument 
 more durable than brass ; 
 
 His children’s children shall talk of him in love, and 
 teach their sons his honour ; 
 
 His dignity hath set him among princes; the 
 universe is debtor to his worth ; 
 
 His privilege is blessing for ever, his happiness 
 shineth now, 
 
 For he standeth of that grand Election, each man 
 one among a thousand, 
 
 Whose sound is gone out unto all the lands, and 
 their words to the end of the world. — Tupper. 
 
 241 . AUTHORS. Rules for 
 
 To write what may securely stand the test 
 Of being well read over thrice at least, 
 
 Compare each phrase, examine ev’ry line, 
 Weigh ev’ry word, and ev’ry thought refine. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Make the proper use of each extreme, 
 
 And write with fury, but correct with phlegm. 
 
 Roscommon. 
 
 242. AUTHORS : their vanity. 
 
 E\ er\ busy little scribbler now 
 Swells with the praises which he gives himself, 
 And, taking sanctuary in the crowd, 
 
 Liags of his impudence, and scorns to mend. 
 
 Roscommon. 
 
 243 - AUTHORSHIP. Benefit of 
 
 It addeth immortality to dying facts, that are ready 
 to vanish away, 
 
 Embalming as in amber the poor insects of an hour ; 
 
 Shedding upon stocks and stones the tender light of 
 interest, 
 
 And illuming dark places of the earth with radiance 
 of classic lustre. 
 
 It hath power to make past things present, and 
 availeth for the present in the future, 
 
 Delivering thoughts, and words, and deeds, from the 
 outer darkness of oblivion.— M. F. Tapper. 
 
 244 . AUTHORITY. A little brief 
 
 Isabel. Oh ! it is excellent 
 
 1 o have a giant’s strength; but it is tyrannous 
 
 4 
 
AUTHORITY 
 
 5o 
 
 A VARICE 
 
 To use it like a giant. 
 
 Could great men thunder 
 
 As Jove himself does, Jove would ne’er be quiet; 
 For every pelting, petty officer 
 Would use his heaven for thunder,— 
 
 Nothing but thunder. Merciful heaven ! 
 
 Thou rather, with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt, 
 Split’st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak, 
 
 Than the soft myrtle : but man, proud man ! 
 
 Drest in a little brief authority,— 
 
 Most ignorant of what he’s most assured, 
 
 His glassy essence,—like an angry ape, 
 
 Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven, 
 
 As make the angels weep : who, with our spleens, 
 Would all themselves laugh mortal.— Shakespeare. 
 
 245. AUTHORITY : how it is acquired. 
 
 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. 
 
 246. AUTHORITY. Intoxication of 
 
 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. 
 
 i 
 
 Samuel Butler. 
 
 247. AUTHORITY : its perils. 
 
 A MAN in authority is but as 
 A candle in the wind, sooner wasted 
 Or blown out than under a bushel. 
 
 Beaumont and Fletcher. 
 
 248. AUTUMN. Lesson of 
 
 The Autumn is old ; 
 
 The sere leaves are flying; 
 
 He hath gather’d up gold, 
 
 And now he is dying : 
 
 Old age, begin sighing ! 
 
 The vintage is ripe ; 
 
 The harvest is heaping ; 
 
 But some that have sow’d 
 Have no riches for reaping 
 Poor wretch, fall a-weeping ! 
 
 The year’s in the wane ; 
 
 There is nothing adorning ; 
 
 The night has no eve, 
 
 And the day has no morning ; 
 
 Cold winter gives warning. 
 
 The rivers run chill; 
 
 The red sun is sinking ; 
 
 And I am growing old, 
 
 And life is fast shrinking ; 
 
 Here’s enough for sad thinking ! 
 
 Thomas Hood. 
 
 249. AVARICE : of the Aged. 
 
 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. 
 
 But age scarce sows, till death stands by to reap, 
 And to a stranger’s hand transfers the heap : 
 
 Afraid to be so once, she’s always poor, 
 
 And to avoid a mischief, makes it sure. 
 
 Such madness, as for fear of death to die, 
 
 As to be poor for fear of poverty. — Denham. 
 
 250. AVARICE. Disappointed 
 
 ‘ 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. 
 
 251. AVARICE : its Folly. 
 
 Go, miser! go : for lucre sell thy soul; 
 
 Truck wares for wares, and trudge from pole to pole, 
 That men may say, when thou art dead and gone, 
 See what a vast estate he left his son !— Drydeii. 
 
 Why lose we life in anxious cares 
 To lay in hoards for future years? 
 
 Can these, when tortured by disease, 
 
 Cheer our sick hearts, or purchase ease ? 
 
 Can these prolong one gasp of breath. 
 
 Or calm the troubled hour of death?— Gay. 
 
 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; 
 
A VA RICE 
 
 5i 
 
 A VA RICE 
 
 ) < - — 
 
 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. 
 
 252. AVARICE : in the young. 
 
 Young men to imitate all ills are prone, 
 
 But are compell’d to avarice alone ; 
 
 For then in virtue’s shape they follow vice. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 253. AVARICE : insatiable. 
 
 \ 1 
 
 Canst thou tell me what is insatiable ? 
 
 The greedy eye of avarice! 
 
 Were all the universe a loaded table, 
 
 It never, never could fill this !— Oriental. 
 
 254. AVARICE : Man’s last vice. 
 
 The lust of gold succeeds the lust of conquest: 
 The lust of gold, unfeeling and remorseless! 
 
 The last corruption of degenerate man. 
 
 When all sins are old in us, 
 
 And go upon crutches, covetousness 
 Does but then lie in her cradle. —Decker. 
 
 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.— Moo)-e. 
 
 255- AVARICE. Misery of 
 
 . 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 into 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 thread-bare cote and cobbled shoes he ware, 
 He scarce good morsell all his life did taste, 
 
 But both from backe and belly still did spare, 
 
 To fill his bags, and richesse to compare : 
 
 Yet child nor kinsman living had he none, 
 
 To leave them to ; but thorough daily care 
 To get, and nightly feare to lose his own, 
 
 He led a wietched life unto himselfe unknown. 
 
 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. 
 
 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. 
 
 Who, lord of millions, trembles for his store, 
 
 And fears to give a farthing to the poor ; 
 
 Proclaims that penury will be his fate, 
 
 And, scowling, looks on charity with hate. 
 
 Wolcott 
 
 The more we have, the meaner is our store ; 
 
 The unenjoying craving wretch is poor.— Creech. 
 
 He turns with anxious heart and crippled hands 
 His bonds of debt and mortgages of lands ; 
 
 Or views his coffers with suspicious eyes, 
 
 Unlocks his gold, and counts it till he dies. 
 
 Johnson. 
 
 256. AVARICE. Offerings of 
 
 Thou hop’st with sacrifice of oxen slain 
 To compass wealth, and bribe the god of gain, 
 
 To give thee flocks and herds, with large increase ;— 
 Fool! to expect them from a bullock’s grease ! 
 
 And think’st that when the fatten’d flames aspire, 
 Thou seest the accomplishment of thy desire ! 
 
 Now, now my bearded harvest gilds the plain, 
 
 The scanty folds can scarce my sheep contain, 
 
 And showers of gold come pouring in amain ! 
 
 Thus dreams the wretch, and vainly thus dreams on, 
 Till his lank purse declares his money gone. 
 
 O souls in whom no heavenly fire is found, 
 
 Fat minds, and ever grovelling on the ground ! 
 
 We bring our manners to the blest abodes, 
 
 And think what pleases us must please the gods. 
 
 Persia s, tr. by Dryden. 
 
 257. AVARICE. Peril of 
 
 Yet in thy thriving still misdoubt some evil, 
 
 Lest gaining gain on thee, and make thee dim 
 To all things else. Wealth is the conjurer’s devil, 
 Whom when he thinks he hath, the devil hath him. 
 Gold thou mayst safely touch ; but if it stick 
 Unto thy hands, it woundeth to the quick. 
 
 What skills it if a bag of stones, or gold, 
 
 About thy neck do drown thee ? raise thy head ; 
 
AVARICE 
 
 52 
 
 BABE 
 
 Take stars for money ; stars not to be told 
 By any art, yet to be purchased. 
 
 None is so wasteful as the scraping dame : 
 
 She loseth three for one—her soul, rest, fame. 
 
 George Herbert. 
 
 58. AVARICE : praised. 
 
 The base wretch who hoards up all he can 
 Is praised, and call’d a careful, thrifty man. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 259. AVARICE. Slavery of 
 
 WHEN thou wouldst take a lazy morning s nap, 
 
 Up, up, says Avarice ; thou snor’st again, 
 
 Stretchest thy limbs, and yawn’st, but all in vain : 
 
 The tyrant Lucre no denial takes ; 
 
 At his command the unwilling sluggard wakes : 
 
 What must I do ? he cries : What ? says his lord : 
 Why rise, make ready, and go straight aboard : 
 
 With fish, from Euxine seas, thy vessel freight; 
 
 Flax, castor, Coan wines, the precious weight 
 Of pepper, and Sabaean incense, take 
 With thy own hands from the tired camel’s back ; 
 And with post-haste thy running markets make. 
 
 Be sure to turn the penny : lie and swear ; 
 
 ’Tis wholesome sin : but Jove, thou say’st, will heai ; 
 Swear, fool, or starve ; for the dilemma’s even : 
 
 A tradesman thou ! and hope to go to heaven? 
 
 Per sins, tr. by Dryden. 
 
 260. AVERSION. Isolation of 
 
 IT needs not guards in front and rear to keep the 
 crowd away; 
 
 Aversion to the vulgar throng will hold them all at 
 bay.— Oriental. 
 
 261. AWAKING AFTER DEATH. The 
 
 In what a strange bewilderment do we 
 
 Awake each morn from out the brief night s sleep. 
 Our struggling consciousness doth grope and creep 
 Its slow way back, as if it could not free 
 Itself from bonds unseen. Then memory, 
 
 Like sudden light, outflashes from its deep 
 The joy or grief which it had last to keep 
 For us ; and by the joy or grief we see 
 The new day dawneth like the yesterday ; 
 
 We are unchanged ; our life the same we knew 
 Before. I wonder if this is the way 
 
 We wake from death’s short sleep, to struggle 
 through 
 
 A brief bewilderment, and in dismay, 
 
 Behold our life unto our old life true. 
 
 Helen Hunt. 
 
 262. BABY. Burial of a 
 
 ii 
 
 To-day we cut the fragrant sod, 
 
 With trembling hands, asunder, /* 
 
 And lay this well-beloved of God, 
 
 Our dear, dead baby under. 
 
 O hearts that ache, and ache afresh ! 
 
 O tears too blindly raining! 
 
 Our hearts are weak, yet, being flesh, 
 
 Too strong for our restraining ! 
 
 Sleep, darling, sleep ! Cold rain shall steep 
 Thy little turf-made dwelling ; 
 
 Thou wilt not know, so far below, 
 
 What winds or storms are swelling; 
 
 And birds shall sing in the warm spring, 
 
 And flowers bloom about thee : 
 
 Thou wilt not heed them, love ; but oh, 
 
 The loneliness without thee ! g 
 
 Father, we will be comforted ! 
 
 Thou wast the gracious Giver ; 
 
 We yield her up, not dead, not dead, 
 
 To dwell with Thee for ever ! 
 
 Take Thou our child, ours for a day, 
 
 Thine while the ages blossom! 
 
 This little shining head we lay 
 In the Redeemer’s bosom ! 
 
 263. BABE. Death of a 
 
 She had seen 
 
 All of earth’s year except the winter’s snows, 
 
 Spring, summer, autumn, like sweet dreams, had 
 smiled 
 
 On her. Eva—or living— was her name ; 
 
 A bud of life folded in leaves and love ; 
 
 The dewy morning-star of summer days ; 
 
 The golden lamp of happy fire-side hours ; 
 
 The little ewe-lamb nestling by our side ; 
 
 The dove whose cooing echo’d in our hearts ; 
 
 The sweetest chord upon our harp of praise ; 
 
 The quiet spring, the rivulet of joy ; 
 
 The pearl among His gifts who gave us all ; 
 
 On whom not we alone, but all who look d, 
 
 Gazing would breathe the involuntary words, 
 
 ‘ God bless thee, Eva—God be bless’d for thee.’ 
 
 Alas, clouds gather’d quickly, and the storm 
 Fell without warning on our tender bud, 
 
 Scattering its leaflets ; and the star was drench'd 
 In tears ; the lamp burnt dimly ; unawares 
 The little lamb was faint; the weary dove 
 Cower’d its young head beneath its drooping wing ; 
 The chord was loosen’d on our harp ; the fount 
 Was troubled, and the rill ran nearly dry ; 
 
 And in our souls we heard our Father, saying, 
 
 ‘ Will ye return the gift ? ’ The Voice was low— 
 
BABE 
 
 BANISHMENT 
 
 The answer lower still— 1 ‘Thy will be done.’ 
 
 And now, where we had often pictured her, 
 
 I saw her one of the beatified, 
 
 In Paradise ; our treasure was with God ; 
 
 1 he gift in the great Giver’s strong right hand ; 
 And none who look’d on her could choose but say, 
 ‘Eva, sweet angel, God be bless’d for thee.’ 
 
 E. H. Bickersteth. 
 
 264. BABE. Departure of a 
 
 It came upon us by degrees : 
 
 We saw its shadow ere it fell, 
 
 The knowledge that our God had sent 
 Plis messenger for Babie Bell 
 We shudder’d with unlanguaged pain, 
 
 And all our hopes were changed to fears, 
 And all our thoughts ran into tears, 
 
 Like sunshine into rain. 
 
 We cried aloud in our belief, 
 
 ‘ O smite us gently, gently, God ! 
 
 Teach us to bend and kiss the rod, 
 
 And perfect grow through grief.’ 
 
 Ah, how we loved her, God can tell ; 
 
 Her heart was folded deep in ours. 
 
 Our hearts are broken, Babie Bell! 
 
 At last he came, the messenger, 
 
 The messenger from unseen lands : 
 
 And what did dainty Babie Bell ? 
 
 She only cross’d her little hands, 
 
 She only look’d more meek and fair! 
 
 W e parted back her silken hair, 
 
 We wove the roses round her brow— 
 
 White buds, the summer’s drifted snow— 
 
 ^ rapt her from head to foot in flowers ! 
 
 And thus went dainty Babie Bell 
 Out of this world of ours. — T. B. Aldrich. 
 
 265. BACKSLIDERS : how they are to be treated. 
 
 Look thou with pity on a brother’s fall, 
 
 And dwell not with stern anger on his fault ; 
 
 The grace of God alone holds thee, holds all; 
 
 Were that withdrawn, thou too would’st swerve 
 and halt. 
 
 Lead back the wanderer to the Saviour’s fold ; 
 
 T hat were an action worthy of a saint \ 
 
 But not in malice let the crime be told, 
 
 Nor publish to the world the evil taint. 
 
 The Saviour suffers when His children slide ; 
 
 Then is His holy name by men blasphemed, 
 
 And He afresh is mock’d and crucified 
 Even by those His bitter death redeem’d. 
 
 Rebuke the sin, but yet in love rebuke, 
 
 Feel as one member in another’s pain ; 
 
 o 
 
 I 
 
 Win back the soul that His fair path forsook, 
 
 And mighty and eternal is the gain. 
 
 266. BACKSLIDER’S RETURN. The 
 
 I come, O Lord, to Thee ; 
 
 In sad and grievous thought I hear Thy call, 
 
 And I must come, or else from Thee I fall 
 Deeper in misery. 
 
 I have not kept Thy word, 
 
 And yet Thou biddest me to taste Thy love ; 
 Shaming my faithless heart, that e’er could rove 
 I rom Thee, O gracious Lord ! 
 
 Shame wraps my heart around, 
 
 Like morning gloom upon the mountains spread ; 
 Indignant memory, avenger dread, 
 
 Deepens each restless wound. 
 
 Yet must I come to Thee ! 
 
 Thou hast the words of life, and 7 hou alone ; 
 Thou sitt’st upon the Mediator’s throne : 
 
 Where should a sinner flee ? 
 
 Whom didst Thou turn away ? 
 
 Fiom what distress was hid Phy pitying face ? 
 \vhat cold lebuke e er check d the cry for grace? 
 Can I unheeded pray ? 
 
 Thomas IV. Webb. 
 
 267. BAD TEMPERS. 
 
 Of all bad things by which mankind are cursed, 
 Their own bad tempers surely are the worst. 
 
 Cumberland. 
 
 268. BANISHMENT. An Epilogue. 
 
 On a fair ship, borne swiftly o’er the deep, 
 
 A man was lying, wrapp’d in dreamless sleep; 
 
 W hen unawares upon a sunken rock 
 1 hat vessel struck, and shatter’d with the shock. 
 
 But strange ! the plank where lay the sleeper bore 
 Him, wrapt in deep sleep ever, to the shore. 
 
 Sweet tones first woke him from his sleep, when 
 round 
 
 His couch observant multitudes he found : 
 
 All hail’d him then, and did before him bow, 
 
 And with one voice exclaim’d— 4 Our king art thou.’ 
 With jubilant applause they bore him on, 
 
 And set him wondering on a royal throne. 
 
 Much he rejoiced, and he had well-nigh now 
 Forgotten whence he hither came, and how ; 
 
 Until at eve, of homage weary grown, 
 
 He craved a season to be left alone. 
 
 Alone in hall magnificent he sate, 
 
 And mused upon the wonder of his fate ; 
 
 When lo ! an aged counsellor, a seer, 
 
 Before unnoticed, to the king drew near : 
 
banishment 
 
 54 
 
 BATTLE OF LIFE 
 
 _‘And thee would I congratulate, my'son, 
 
 Who hast thy reign in happy hour begun ; 
 
 Seen hast thou the beginning,—yet attend, 
 
 While I shall also show to thee the end. 
 
 That this new fortune doth not blind thee quite, 
 
 Both sides regard, the darker with the bright; 
 
 Heed what so many who have ruled before, 
 
 Failing to heed, now rue for evermore. 
 
 Though sure thy state and strong thy throne appear, 
 King only art thou for a season here ; 
 
 A time is fix’d, albeit unknown to thee, 
 
 Which, when it comes, thou banish’d hence shalt be. 
 Round this fair spot, though hidden from the eye 
 By mist and vapour, many islands lie : 
 
 Bare are their coasts, and dreary and forlorn, 
 
 And unto them the banish’d kings are borne ; 
 
 On each of these an exiled king doth mourn, 
 
 For when a new king comes, they bear away 
 The old, whom now no vassals more obey. 
 
 ‘ Much, O my Prince, my words have thee distrest, 
 Thy head has sunk in sorrow on thy breast; 
 
 Yet idle sorrow helps not—I will show 
 A nobler way, which shall true help bestow. 
 
 This counsel take—to others given in vain, 
 
 While no belief from them my words might gain. 
 Know then, whilst thou art monarch here, there 
 stand 
 
 Helps for the future many at thy command ; 
 
 Then, whilst thou canst, employ them to adorn 
 That island whither thou must once be borne. 
 Unbuilt and waste and barren now that strand, 
 
 And gush no fountains from the thirsty sand. 
 
 So when the world, which speaks thee now so fair, 
 And flatters so, again shall strip thee bare, 
 
 And drive thee naked forth in harshest w ise, 
 
 Thou joyfully wilt seek thy paradise.’' 
 
 Then raised the Prince his head with courage new, 
 And what the sage advised, prepared to do. 
 
 He ruled his realm with meekness, and meanwhile 
 He marvellously deck’d the chosen isle ; 
 
 Bade there his servants build up royal towers, 
 
 And change its barren sands to leafy bowers ; 
 
 Bade fountains there be hewn, and caused to bloom 
 Immortal amaranths, shedding rich perfume. 
 
 And when he long enough had kept his throne, 
 
 To him sweet odours from that isle were blown : 
 Then knew he that its gardens blooming were, 
 
 And all the yearnings of his soul were there. 
 
 Grief was it not to him, but joy, when they 
 His crown and sceptre bade him quit one day ; 
 When him his servants rudely did dismiss, 
 
 ’Twas not the sentence of his ended bliss, 
 
 But pomp and power he cheerfully forsook, 
 
 And to his isle a willing journey took, 
 
 And found diviner pleasure on that shore, 
 
 Than all his proudest state had known before. 
 
 Oriental , tr. by R.C. Trench. 
 
 269. BATTLE OF LIFE. The 
 
 Fighting the battle of life, 
 
 With a weary heart and head ; 
 
 For in the midst of the strife, 
 
 The banners of Joy are fled. 
 
 Fled and gone out of sight, 
 
 When I thought they were so near ; 
 
 And the music of Hope this night 
 Is dying away on my ear. 
 
 Fighting the whole day long, 
 
 With a very tired hand, 
 
 With only my armour strong,— 
 
 The shelter in which I stand. 
 
 There is nothing left of me : 
 
 If all my strength were shown, 
 
 So small the amount would be, 
 
 Its presence could scarce be known. 
 
 Fighting alone to-night, 
 
 With not even a stander-by 
 To cheer me on in the fight, 
 
 Or to hear me when I cry. 
 
 Only the Lord can hear, 
 
 Only the Lord can see 
 The struggle within how dark and drear, 
 Though quiet the outside be. 
 
 Fighting alone to-night, 
 
 With what a sinking heart! 
 
 Lord J esus, in the fight, 
 
 Oh stand not Thou apart! 
 
 Body and mind have tried 
 To make the field mine own ; 
 
 But when the Lord is on my side, 
 
 He doeth the work alone. 
 
 And when He hideth His face, 
 
 And the battle-clouds prevail, 
 
 It is only through His grace 
 If I do not utterly fail. 
 
 The word of old was true,— 
 
 And its truth shall never cease, — 
 
 ‘ The Lord shall fight for you, 
 
 And ye shall hold your peace.’ 
 
 Lord, I would fain be still 
 And quiet behind my shield ; 
 
 But make me to love Thy will, 
 
 For fear I should ever yield. 
 
BA TTLE 
 
 55 
 
 BEAUTY 
 
 For when, to destroy my foes, 
 
 Thou lettest them strike at me, 
 
 And fillest my heart with woes, 
 
 That joy may the purer be, 
 
 Nothing but perfect trust, 
 
 And love of Thy perfect will, 
 
 Can raise me out of the dust, 
 
 And bid my fears lie still. 
 
 Even as now my hands, 
 
 So doth my folded will 
 Lie waiting Thy commands, 
 
 Without one anxious thrill. 
 
 But as, with sudden pain, 
 
 My hands unfold and clasp, 
 
 So doth my will start up again, 
 
 And taketh its old firm grasp. 
 
 Lord, fix mine eyes upon Thee, 
 
 And fill my heart with Thy love; 
 
 And keep my soul till the shadows flee, 
 
 And the light breaks from above. 
 
 F. IV. Faber. 
 
 270. BATTLE. The Christian’s 
 
 How goes the fight with thee ? 
 
 The life-long battle with all evil things ? 
 
 Thine no low strife, and thine no selfish aim ; 
 
 It is the war of giants and of kings. 
 
 Does it grow slacker now ? 
 
 Then tremble ; for, be sure, thy hellish foe 
 Slacks not; ’tis thou that slackest in the fight; 
 Fainter and feebler falls each weary blow. 
 
 What though ten thousand faint, 
 
 Desert, or yield, or in weak terror flee ! 
 
 Heed not the panic of the multitude ; 
 
 Thine be the Captain’s watchword,—Victory ! 
 
 Look to thine armour well! 
 
 Thine the one panoply no blow that fears; 
 
 Ours is the day of rusted swords and shields, 
 
 Of loosen’d helmets and of broken spears. 
 
 Heed not the throng of foes ! 
 
 To fight ’gainst hosts is still the Church’s lot. 
 Side thou with God, and thou must win the day ; 
 Woe to the man ’gainst whom hell fighteth not! 
 
 I Say not the fight is long :— 
 
 ’Tis but one battle and the fight is o’er; 
 
 No second warfare mars thy victory, 
 
 And the one triumph is for evermore.— Bonar. 
 
 Stand up ! Stand up for Jesus ! 
 
 The strife will not be long ; 
 
 % 
 
 This day the noise of battle, 
 
 The next the victor’s song ! 
 
 To him that overcometh, 
 
 A crown of life shall be ; 
 
 He with the King of Glory 
 
 Shall reign eternally.— Duffield. 
 
 271. BEAUTY : a poor foundation for love. 
 
 Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies : 
 Choose this face, changed by no deformities. 
 
 Donne. 
 
 Love raised on beauty will like that decay : 
 
 Our hearts may bear its slender chain a day ; 
 
 As flow’ry bands in wantonness are worn, 
 
 A morning’s pleasure, and at evening torn. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 272. BEAUTY : allied with truth. 
 
 Oh, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem 
 By that sweet ornament which truth doth give ! 
 The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem 
 For that sweet odour which doth in it live. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 273. BEAUTY : deceitful. 
 
 As rising on its purple wing 
 The insect queen of eastern spring, 
 
 O’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. 
 
 274. BEAUTY : easily impaired. 
 
 A NIGHT of fretful passion may consume 
 All that thou hast of beauty’s gentle bloom ; 
 And one distemper’d hour of sordid fear 
 Print on thy brow the wrinkles of a year. 
 
 Sheridan . 
 
 275. BEAUTY : evanescent. 
 
 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 hurn’rous stream of grief, 
 Which flows from forth those fountains of our eyes, 
 Washeth away, as rain doth winter’s snow. 
 
 Goffe. 
 
BEAUTY 
 
 56 
 
 BEAUTY 
 
 Beauty’s a slippery 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 waxeth old 
 With time ; if on the sun, parch’d 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. 
 
 Trust not too much to that enchanting face; 
 Beauty’s a charm, but soon the charm will pass. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 Do not idolatrize ; beauty’s a flower, 
 
 Which springs and withers almost in an hour. 
 
 William Smith. 
 
 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. 
 
 Beauty ! thou pretty plaything ! 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 expunged, 
 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 unscared. 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. 
 
 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. 
 
 276. BEAUTY : excelled. 
 
 Beauty is excell’d by manly grace, 
 
 And wisdom, which alone is truly fair.— Milton. 
 
 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: 
 
 She may give all that is within her own 
 Bright cestus—and one glance of intellect, 
 
 Like stronger magic, will outshine it all .— Willis. 
 
 277. BEAUTY : in what it consists. 
 
 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. 
 
 ’Tis the stainless soul within 
 
 That outshines the fairest skin.— Hunt. 
 
 What is true beauty but fair virtue’s face,— 
 
 Virtue made visible in outward grace ?— Young. 
 
 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. 
 
 278. BEAUTY : its decay inevitable. 
 
 Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea, 
 But sad mortality o’er-sways their power, 
 
 How with this rage shall Beauty hold a plea, 
 
 Whose action is no stronger than a flower ? 
 
 O, how shall summer’s honey breath hold out 
 Against the wreckful siege of battering days, 
 Where rocks impregnable are not so stout, 
 
 Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays? 
 
 O fearful meditation ! Where, alack, 
 
 Shall Time’s best jewel from Time’s chest lie hid ? 
 Or what strong hand can hold his swift book back ? 
 Or who his spoil of Beauty can forbid ? 
 
 Shakespeare . 
 
 279. BEAUTY : its perils. 
 
 Beauty, 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. 
 
 Adilton. 
 
 Beauty, like ice, our footing does betray ; 
 
 Who can tread sure on the smooth slipp’ry way ? 
 
BEAUTY 57 BEAUTY 
 
 Pleased with the passage, we glide swiftly on, 
 
 And see the dangers which we cannot shun. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 O fatal beauty ! why art thou bestow’d 
 On hapless woman still to make her wretched ? 
 Betray’d by thee, how many are undone ! 
 
 Patterson. 
 
 280. BEAUTY : its power. 
 
 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, inured to blood and cruelty. 
 
 Spenser. 
 
 281. BEAUTY. Joy of 
 
 A THING of beauty is a joy for ever : 
 
 Its loveliness increases; it will never 
 
 Pass into nothingness ; but still will keep 
 
 A bower quiet for us, and a sleep 
 
 Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing. 
 
 Keats. 
 
 282. BEAUTY. Lost 
 
 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 within an hour. 
 
 And as good lost is seldom or never found, 
 
 As fading gloss no rubbing will refresh, 
 
 As flowers dead lie wither’d on the ground, 
 
 As broken glass no cement can redress, 
 
 So Beauty blemish’d once, for ever’s lost, 
 
 In spite of physic, painting, pain, and cost. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 283. BEAUTY. Modest 
 
 As lamps burn silent with unconscious light, 
 
 So modest ease in beauty shines most bright; 
 Unaiming charms with edge resistless fall, 
 
 And she who means no mischief does it all. 
 
 Aaron Hill. 
 
 284. BEAUTY : not to be despised. 
 
 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.— Pierpont. 
 
 285. BEAUTY. Realm of 
 
 For beauty hideth everywhere, that Reason’s child 
 may seek her, 
 
 And having found the gem of price, may set it in 
 God’s crown. 
 
 There is beauty in the rolling clouds, and placid 
 shingle beach, 
 
 In feathery snows and whistling winds, and dun 
 electric skies ; « 
 
 There is beauty in the rounded woods, dank with 
 heavy foliage, 
 
 In laughing fields, and dinted hills, the valley and 
 its lake ; 
 
 There is beauty in the gullies, beauty on the cliffs, 
 beauty in sun and shade, 
 
 In rocks and rivers, seas and plains,—the earth is 
 drown’d in beauty. — Tapper. 
 
 286. BEAUTY. Truth and 
 
 Thus was Beauty sent from heaven, 
 
 The lovely mistress of Truth and Good 
 
 In this dark world ; for Truth and Good are one 
 
 And Beauty dwells in them, and they in her, 
 
 With like participation. Wherefore, then, 
 
 O sons of earth, would ye dissolve the tie ? 
 
 O wherefore, with a rash, impetuous aim, 
 
 Seek ye those flowery joys with which the hand 
 Of lavish Fancy paints each flattering scene 
 Where Beauty seems to dwell, nor once inquire 
 Where is the sanction of eternal Truth, 
 
 Or where the seal of undeceitful good, 
 
 To save your search from folly ! wanting these, 
 
 Lo ! Beauty withers in your void embrace, 
 
 And with the glittering of an idiot’s toy 
 Did fancy mock your vows.— Akenside. 
 
 287. BEAUTY : typical. 
 
 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. 
 
 288. BEAUTY : unadorned. 
 
 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 dress ; for loveliness 
 Needs not the foreign aid of ornament, 
 
 But is, when unadorn’d, adorn’d the most. 
 
 Thomson . 
 
 289. BEAUTY. Youthful 
 
 Lo ! when the buds expand, the leaves are green, 
 Then the first opening of the flower is seen ; 
 
BENEFICENCE 
 
 53 
 
 BE THE SB A 
 
 Then come the honey’d 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 gather’d, 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 there are charms unfolded to the sight, 
 
 Then all is loveliness and all delight; 
 
 The nuptial tie succeeds, the 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. 
 
 290. BENEFICENCE. Example of 
 
 The pilgrim and stranger, who, through the day, 
 Holds over the desert his trackless way, 
 
 \\ here the terrible sands no shade have known, 
 
 No sound of life save the camel’s moan, 
 
 Hears, at last, through the mercy of Allah to all, 
 From his tent-door, at evening, the Bedouin’s call: 
 W hoever thou art, whose need is great, 
 
 In the name of God, the Compassionate 
 And Merciful One, for thee I wait! ’ 
 
 For gifts, in His name, of food and rest, 
 
 The tents of Islam of God are blest. 
 
 Thou, who hast faith in the Christ above, 
 
 Shall the Koran teach thee the Law of Love ? 
 
 O Christian !—open thy heart and door,— 
 
 Cry, east and west, to the wandering poor— 
 
 ‘ Whoever thou art, whose need is great, 
 
 In the name of Christ, the Compassionate 
 And Merciful One, for thee I wait! ’ 
 
 Whittier. 
 
 291. BENEFICENCE. Monument of 
 
 But all our praises why should lords engross ? 
 
 Rise, honest muse! and sing the Man of Ross ; 
 Pleased Vaga echoes through her winding bounds, 
 And rapid Severn hoarse applause resounds. 
 
 M ho hung with woods yon mountain’s sultry brow ? 
 Fiom the dry rock who bade the waters flow ? 
 
 Not to the skies in useless columns tost, 
 
 Or in proud falls magnificently lost, 
 
 But clear and artless, pouring through the plain 
 Ilea.th to the sick, and solace to the swain. 
 
 Whose causeway parts the vale with shady rows ? 
 Whose seats the weary traveller repose ? 
 
 W ho taught that heaven-directed spire to rise ? 
 
 ‘ 1 he Man of Ross ! ’ each lisping babe replies. 
 Behold the market-place with poor o’erspread ! 
 
 The Man of Ross divides the weekly bread ; 
 
 He feeds yon almshouse, neat, but void of state, 
 Where age and want sit smiling at the gate: 
 
 Him portion d maids, apprenticed orphans blest, 
 The young who labour, and the old who rest. 
 
 Is any sick ? the Man of Ross relieves, 
 
 Pi escribes, attends, the medicine makes and gives. 
 Is there a variance? enter but his door, 
 
 Balk’d are the courts, and contest is no more. 
 Despairing quacks with curses fled the place, 
 
 And vile attorneys, now a useless race. 
 
 B. Thrice happy man ! enabled to pursue 
 What all so wish, but want the power to do ! 
 
 O say, what sums that generous hand supply ? 
 
 \\ hat mines to swell that boundless charity ? 
 
 P. Of debts and taxes, wife and children clear. 
 This man possess’d—five hundred pounds a year. 
 Blush, grandeur, blush; proud courts, withdraw 
 your blaze ! 
 
 Ye little stars, hide your diminish’d rays ! 
 
 B. And what ! no monument, inscription, stone ? 
 His race, his form, his name, almost unknown ? 
 
 P. Who builds a church to God, and not to fame, 
 Will never mark the marble with his name : 
 
 Go, search it there, where to be born and die, 
 
 Of rich and poor makes all the history ; 
 
 Enough that virtue fill’d the space between, 
 
 Proved by the ends of being to have been.— Pope. 
 
 292. BETHESDA. 
 
 Around Bethesda’s healing wave, 
 
 Waiting to hear the rustling wing 
 Which spoke the angel nigh, who gave 
 Its virtue to that holy spring, 
 
 With patience and with hope endued, 
 
 Were seen the gather’d multitude. 
 
 Among them there was one whose eye 
 Had often seen the waters stirr’d,— 
 
 Whose heart had often heaved the sigh, 
 
 The bitter sigh of hope deferr’d ; 
 
 Until the Saviour’s love was shown, 
 
 Which heal’d him by a word alone ! 
 
 Bethesda’s pool has lost its power ! 
 
 No angel, by his glad descent, 
 
 Dispenses that diviner dower 
 
 Which with its healing waters went: 
 
 But He, whose word surpass’d its wave, 
 
 Is still omnipotent to save. 
 
 Saviour, Thy love is still the same 
 As when that healing word was spoke ; 
 
 Still in Thine all-redeeming name 
 Dwells power to burst the strongest yoke! 
 
 Oh, be that power, that love, display’d ; 
 
 Help those whom Thou alone canst aid ! 
 
 Bernard Barton. 
 
BEREA VED 
 
 59 
 
 BEREA VEMENT 
 
 293. BEREAVED. Comfort for the 
 
 Who weeps when love, a cradled babe, is born? 
 Rather we bring frankincense, myrrh, and gold, 
 While softest welcomes from our lips are roll’d 
 To meet the dawning fragrance of a morn 
 Of checker’d being. Even while the thorn 
 Keeps pace with rosy graces that unfold, 
 
 Do we with rapture cry, ‘ Behold, behold, 
 
 A heaven-dropp’d flower, our garden to adorn ! ’ 
 And yet, when from our darling fall the years, 
 
 As from the rose the shrivell’d petals rain, 
 
 And into newer life the soul again 
 Springs thornless to the air of purer spheres, 
 
 So blinded are we by our bitter pain 
 We greet the sweeter birth with selfish tears. 
 
 Catholic World. 
 
 294. BEREAVED. Comfort for the 
 
 ‘ Dead ! ’ are the tidings on this side ; 
 
 ‘ Born ! ’ is the joyful word they speak, 
 
 W r ho press around with eager looks, 
 
 To welcome the dear ones that we seek. 
 
 Is the corn dead, that lies awhile 
 In summer sun and summer storm ? 
 
 Nay, rather it is gathering life 
 For larger use and lovelier form. 
 
 Oh, watch not with your tearful eyes 
 
 The green mounds where your darlings sleep ; 
 If you could pierce through death’s disguise, 
 Believe me, you would never weep. 
 
 Mrs M. F. Butls. 
 
 295. BEREAVED. Counsel for the 
 
 The voice which I did more esteem 
 Than music in her sweetest key, 
 
 Those eyes which unto me did seem 
 More comfortable than the day,— 
 
 296. BEREAVEMENT. Benefit of 
 
 Our dying friends come o’er us like a cloud, 
 
 To damp our brainless ardours, and abate 
 That glare of light which often blinds the wise. 
 Our dying friends are pioneers, to smooth 
 Our rugged pass to death ; to break those bars 
 Of terror and abhorrence nature throws 
 Cross our obstructed way ; and thus to make 
 Welcome, as safe, our port from every storm. 
 Each friend by fate snatch’d from us is a plume 
 Pluck’d from the wing of human vanity.— Young. 
 
 297. BEREAVEMENT. God’s purpose in 
 
 After our child’s untroubled breath 
 Up to the Father took its way, 
 
 And on our home the shade of death, 
 
 Like a long, misty twilight, lay, 
 
 And friends came round with us to weep 
 Her little spirit’s swift remove, 
 
 This story of the Alpine sheep 
 Was told to us by one we love : 
 
 ‘They, in the valley’s sheltering care, 
 
 Soon crop the meadow’s tender prime, 
 
 And, when the sod grows brown and bare, 
 
 The shepherd strives to make them climb 
 
 ‘ To airy shelves of pastures green 
 That hang along the mountain’s side, 
 
 Where grass and flowers together lean, 
 
 And down through mist the sunbeams slide. 
 
 ‘ Btit nought can tempt the timid things 
 That steep and rugged path to try, 
 
 Though swegt the shepherd calls and sings, 
 And sear’d below the pastures lie, 
 
 ‘ Till in his arms their lambs he takes, 
 
 Along the dizzy verge to go; 
 
 Then, heedless of the rifts and breaks, 
 
 They follow on o’er rocks and snow ; 
 
 Those now by me, as they have been, 
 
 Shall never more be heard or seen; 
 
 But what I once enjoy’d in them 
 Shall seem hereafter as a dream. 
 
 All earthly comforts vanish thus ; 
 
 So little hold of them have we, 
 
 That we from them, or they from us, 
 
 May in a moment ravish’d be. 
 
 Yet we are neither just nor wise 
 If present mercies we despise ; 
 
 Or mind not how there may be made 
 A thankful use of what we had. 
 
 George Wither. 
 
 ‘ And in those pastures lifted fair, 
 
 More dewy soft than lowland mead, 
 The shepherd drops his tender care, 
 
 And sheep and lambs together feed.’ 
 
 This parable, by Nature breathed, 
 
 Blew on me as the south-wind free 
 O’er frozen brooks that float unsheathed 
 From icy thraldom to the sea. . 
 
 A blissful vision through the night 
 Would all my happy senses sway,— 
 Of the Good Shepherd on the height, 
 
 Or climbing up the stony way, 
 
BEREA VEMENT • 
 
 60 
 
 BEREA VEMENT 
 
 Holding our little lamb asleep ; 
 
 And like the burden of the sea 
 Sounded that voice along the deep, 
 
 Saying, ‘Arise, and follow me.’ 
 
 Maria Lowell. 
 
 298. BEREAVEMENT. God’s purpose in 
 
 The faithful Alpine shepherd tends his flocks, 
 By night as well as day, 
 
 Lest from the fold should stray, 
 
 The lambs, that only live 
 By care his loving hand alone can give. 
 
 From field to field, where greenest turf is found, 
 Below the glacial snow 
 Where coolest waters flow, 
 
 He leads them gently on, 
 
 To crop the herbage that his zeal has won. 
 
 From cliff to cliff they scale the giddy height,— 
 The watchful shepherd near,— 
 
 And know no care or fear, 
 
 Content, if they can trace 
 Safety and plenty in his rugged face. 
 
 Should any timorous grow, in heart or limb, 
 
 The summit fail to dare,— 
 
 The shepherd’s tender care 
 O’ercomes their anxious dread ; 
 
 He takes the lambs , and thus the sheep are led. 
 
 So when the Shepherd saw us weary grow, 
 
 And by the wayside faint, 
 
 And make our timorous plaint,— 
 
 Quick, to His loving breast, 
 
 He took our lamb to everlasting rest. 
 
 But our great loss may prove eternal gain : 
 
 The stairs that heavenward go, 
 
 With children’s feet aglow, 
 
 Are easier of ascent— 
 
 The Shepherd leads in love : we rest content. 
 
 L. S. Upham. 
 
 299. BEREAVEMENT. Lessons of 
 
 There is no flock, however watch’d and tended, 
 But one dead lamb is there ! 
 
 There is no fireside, howsoe’er defended, 
 
 But has one vacant chair ! 
 
 The air is full of farewells to the dying, 
 
 And mournings for the dead ; 
 
 The heart of Rachel, for her children crying, 
 
 Will not be comforted ! 
 
 Let us be patient ! These severe afflictions 
 Not from the ground arise, 
 
 But oftentimes celestial benedictions 
 Assume this dark disguise. 
 
 We see but dimly through the mists and vapours; 
 
 Amid these earthly damps 
 What seem to us but sad, funereal tapers 
 May be heaven’s distant lamps. 
 
 There is no Death ! What seems so is transition : 
 
 This life of mortal breath, 
 
 Is but a suburb of the life elysian, 
 
 Whose portal we call Death. 
 
 She is not dead—the child of our affection— 
 
 But gone unto that school 
 Where she no longer needs our poor protection, 
 And Christ Himself doth rule. 
 
 In that great cloister’s stillness and seclusion, 
 
 By guardian angels led, 
 
 Safe from temptation, safe from sin’s pollution, 
 
 She lives whom we call dead. 
 
 Day after day we think what she is doing 
 In those bright realms of air; 
 
 Year after year, her tender steps pursuing, 
 
 Behold her grown more fair. 
 
 Thus do we walk with her, and keep unbi'oken 
 The bond which nature gives, 
 
 Thinking that our remembrance, though unspoken. 
 May reach her where she lives. 
 
 Not as a child shall we again behold her; 
 
 For when with raptures wild 
 In our embraces we again enfold her, 
 
 She will not be a child : 
 
 But a fair maiden, in her Father’s mansion, 
 
 Clothed with celestial grace ; 
 
 And beautiful with all the soul’s expansion 
 Shall we behold her face. 
 
 And, though at times, impetuous with emotion 
 And anguish long suppress’d, 
 
 The swelling heart heaves moaning like the ocean, 
 That cannot be at rest, 
 
 We will be patient, and assuage the feeling 
 We may not wholly stay ; 
 
 By silence sanctifying, not concealing, 
 
 The grief that must have way.— Longfellow. 
 
 300. BEREAVEMENT. Parable of 
 
 We clutch our joys as children do their flowers ; 
 
 We look at them, but scarce believe them ours, 
 
 Till our hot palms have smirch’d their colours rare, 
 And crush’d their dewy beauty unaware. 
 
 But the wise Gardener, whose they were, comes by, 
 At hours when we expect not, and with eye 
 Mournful yet sweet, compassionate though stern, 
 Takes them. 
 
BEREA VEMENT 
 
 61 
 
 'BEREA VEMENTS 
 
 Then in a moment we discern 
 By loss, what was possession, and half-wild 
 With misery, cry out like an angry child : 
 
 ‘ Oh, cruel! thus to snatch my posy fine ! ’ 
 
 He answers tenderly, ‘Not thine, but mine,’ 
 
 And points to those stain’d fingers which do prove 
 Our fatal cherishing, our dangerous love ; 
 
 At which we, chidden, a pale silence keep ; 
 
 Yet evermore must weep, and weep, and weep. 
 
 So on through gloomy ways and thorny brakes, 
 Quiet and slow, our shrinking feet He takes, 
 
 Led by the soiled hand, which, laved in tears, 
 
 More and more clean beneath His sight appears. 
 
 At length the heavy eyes with patience shine : 
 
 ‘ I am content. Thou took’st but what was Thine.’ 
 
 And when He us His beauteous garden shows, 
 Where bountiful the Rose of Sharon grows; 
 
 Where in the breezes opening spice-buds swell, 
 
 And the pomegranate yields a pleasant smell; 
 
 While to and fro peace-sandall’d angels move 
 In the pure air that they—not we—call Love : 
 
 An air so rare and fine, our grosser breath 
 Cannot inhale till purified by death. 
 
 And thus we, struck with longing joy, adore, 
 
 And satisfied, wait mute without the door, 
 
 Until the gracious Gardener maketh sign, 
 
 ‘ Enter in peace. All this is mine—and thine.’ 
 
 D. M. Muloch Craik. 
 
 301. BEREAVEMENT : should not inspire bit¬ 
 ter grief. 
 
 Shall the seasons bring no end to your sorrow, O 
 my friend, 
 
 As you journey on your way ? 
 
 And your bitterness of grief find no comfort, no relief, 
 But grow deeper day by day ? 
 
 Shall it thus confuse your mind, till no outlet you 
 can find 
 
 From a labyrinth of woe ; 
 
 That your daughter sleeps in peace, where earthly 
 trials cease, 
 
 And where we all must go ? 
 
 If, in answer to your prayer, she had gone with 
 snowy hair, 
 
 And bent with age, above. 
 
 Would the angels come to meet her with welcome 
 any sweeter 
 
 Than their present tones of love ? 
 
 It is nature’s law, I know, that when our darlings go 
 Such tears should blind our eyes ; 
 
 But because their life has gone, to cast away our own 
 Is neither well nor wise. 
 
 Your grief may smite the sky ; no echo shall reply ! 
 
 Your stormy grief is vain ! 
 
 To will what God doth will, is for us the only skill 
 To cure this bitter pain.— From ‘ Exotics' 
 
 302. BEREAVEMENT. Silent worship in 
 
 When some beloveds, ’neath whose eyelids lay 
 The sweet lights of my childhood, one by one 
 Did leave me dark before the natural sun, 
 
 And I astonied fell, and could not pray ; 
 
 A thought within me to myself did say, 
 
 ‘ Is God less God, that thou art mortal sad? 
 
 Rise, worship, bless Him, in this sackcloth clad, 
 As in that purple ! ’ But I answer, nay ! 
 
 What child his filial heart in words conveys, 
 
 If him for very good his father choose 
 
 To smite? What can he, but with sobbing breath 
 Embrace the unwilling hand which chasteneth ? 
 And my dear Father, thinking fit to bruise, 
 
 Discerns in silent tears both prayer and praise. 
 
 E. B. Broivning. 
 
 303. BEREAVEMENT. Solace in 
 
 But God gives patience, Love learns strength, 
 And Faith remembers promise, 
 
 And Hope itself can smile at length 
 On other hopes gone from us. 
 
 Love, strong as Death, shall conquer Death, 
 Through struggle made more glorious ; 
 
 This mother stills her sobbing breath, 
 
 Renouncing, yet victorious. 
 
 Arms, empty of her child, she lifts 
 With spirit unbereaven,— 
 
 ‘ God will not all take back His gifts, 
 
 My Lily’s mine in heaven ! ’— E. B. Browning. 
 
 304. BEREAVEMENT. Submission in 
 
 I MURMUR not, Father, my will is with Thee : 
 
 I knew at the first that my darling was Thine : 
 Hadst Thou taken him earlier, O Father! but see, 
 Thou hadst left him so long that I dream’d he was 
 mine.— Faber. 
 
 305. BEREAVEMENTS ; not to be forgotten. 
 
 They are poor 
 
 That have lost nothing; they are poorer far 
 Who, losing, have forgotten ; they most poor 
 Of all, who lose and wish they might forget. 
 
 For life is one, and in its warp and woof 
 There runs a thread of gold that glitters fair, 
 
 And sometimes in the pattern shows most sweet 
 Where there are sombre colours.— Jean Ingelow. 
 
BESETTING SEV 
 
 62 
 
 BIBLE 
 
 306. BESETTING SIN. Power of 
 
 Lord, with what care hast Thou begirt us round ! 
 Parents first season us ; then schoolmasters 
 Deliver us to laws ; they send us bound 
 To rules of reason, holy messengers, 
 
 Pulpits and Sundays, sorrow dogging sin, 
 Afflictions sorted, anguish of all sizes, 
 
 Fine nets and stratagems to catch us in, 
 
 Bibles laid open, millions of surprises, 
 
 Blessings beforehand, ties of gratefulness, 
 
 The sound of glory ringing in our ears; 
 
 Without, our shame ; within, our consciences ; 
 Angels and grace, eternal hopes and fears, 
 
 Yet all these fences and their whole array 
 One cunning bosom-sin blows quite away. 
 
 George Herbert. 
 
 307. BIBLE. Contents of the 
 
 If thou art merry, here are airs ; 
 
 If melancholy, here are prayers ; 
 
 If studious, here are those things writ 
 Which may deserve thy ablest wit; 
 
 If hungry, here is food divine ; 
 
 If thirsty, nectar, heavenly wine. 
 
 Read, then ; but, first, thyself prepare 
 To read with zeal and mark with care ; 
 
 And when thou read’st what here is writ, 
 
 Let thy best practice second it : 
 
 So twice each precept read shall be,— 
 
 First in the book, and next in thee. 
 
 Peter Heylyn. 
 
 308. BIBLE. Esteeming the 
 
 This holy book I’d rather own 
 Than all the gold and gems 
 That e’er in monarchs’ coffers shone, 
 
 Than all their diadems. 
 
 For here a blessed balm appears 
 To heal the deepest woe, 
 
 And those who read this book in tears, 
 
 Their tears shall cease to flow. 
 
 309. BIBLE. Excellence of the 
 
 Thy thoughts are here, my God, 
 
 Express’d in words divine, 
 
 The utterance of heav’nly lips, 
 
 In ev’ry sacred line. 
 
 Each word of Thine a gem 
 From the celestial mines, 
 
 A sunbeam from that holy heaven 
 Where holy sunlight shines. 
 
 Thine, thine, this book, though given 
 In man’s poor human speech, 
 
 Telling of things unseen, unheard, 
 
 Beyond all human reach. 
 
 Against this sea-swept rock 
 Ten thousand storms their will 
 Of foam and rage have wildly spent; 
 
 It lifts its calm face still. 
 
 It standeth and will stand, 
 
 Without or change or age, 
 
 The word of majesty and light, 
 
 The Church’s heritage.— Boncir. 
 
 310. BIBLE. Family 
 
 What household thoughts around thee, as their 
 shrine, 
 
 Cling reverently !—Of anxious looks beguiled, 
 
 My mother’s eyes upon thy page divine 
 Were daily bent; her accents, gravely mild, 
 
 Breathed out thy love ;—whilst I, a dreamy child, 
 
 On breeze-like fancies wander’d oft away, 
 
 To some lone tuft of gleaming spring-flowers wile, 
 Some fresh-discover’d nook for woodland play, 
 
 Some secret nest; yet would the solemn word, 
 
 At times, with kindlings of young wonder heard, 
 
 Fall on my waken’d spirit, there to be 
 A seed not lost; for which, in darker years, 
 
 O Book of Heaven ! I pour, with grateful tears, 
 Heart blessings on the holy dead, and thee ! 
 
 Mrs Hemans. 
 
 311. BIBLE. Inspiration of the 
 
 Whence, but from Heav’n, could men unskill’d in 
 arts, 
 
 In several ages born, in several parts, 
 
 Weave such agreeing truths ? or how, or why, 
 
 Should all conspire to cheat us with a lie ? 
 
 Unask’d their pains, ungrateful their advice, 
 
 Starving their gain, and martyrdom their price. 
 
 If on the book itself we cast our view, 
 
 Concurrent heathens prove the story true : 
 
 The doctrine, miracles ; which must convince, 
 
 For Heaven in them appeals to human sense : 
 
 And though they prove not they confirm the cause, 
 When what is taught agrees with nature’s laws. 
 
 Therefore, the style majestic and divine, 
 
 It speaks no less than God in every line : 
 Commanding words ; whose force is still the same 
 As the first fiat that produced our frame 
 All faiths beside, or did by arms ascend ; 
 
 Or sense indulged has made mankind their friend : 
 
BIBLE 
 
 |This only doctrine does our lusts oppose : 
 
 Unfed by nature’s soil, in which it grows ; 
 
 Cross to our interests, curbing sense and sin ; 
 Oppress’d without, and undermined within, 
 
 It thrives through pain ; its own tormentors tires, 
 And with a stubborn patience still aspires. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 312. BIBLE. My Mother’s 
 
 This book is all that’s left me now,— 
 Tears will unbidden start,— 
 
 With faltering lip and throbbing brow 
 I press it to my heart. 
 
 For many generations past 
 Here is our family tree ; 
 
 My mother’s hands this Bible clasp’d, 
 
 She, dying, gave it me. 
 
 Ah! well do I remember those 
 Whose names these records bear : 
 
 Who round the hearthstone used to close, 
 After the evening prayer, 
 
 And speak of what these pages said 
 In tones my heart would thrill! 
 
 Though they are with the silent dead, 
 
 Here are they living still! 
 
 My father read this holy book 
 To brothers, sisters dear ; 
 
 How calm was my poor mother’s look, 
 
 Who loved God’s word to hear ! 
 
 Her angel face,—I see it yet! 
 
 What thronging memories come ! 
 
 Again that little group is met 
 Within the halls of home ! 
 
 Thou truest friend man ever kne\v, 
 
 Thy constancy I’ve tried ; 
 
 When all were false, I found thee true, 
 
 My counsellor and guide. 
 
 The mines of earth no treasures give 
 That could this volume buy; 
 
 In teaching me the way to live, 
 
 It taught me how to die.— G. P. Morris. 
 
 313. BIBLE. Philosophy of the 
 
 The lamp of revelation only shows 
 What human wisdom cannot but oppose, 
 
 That man, in nature’s richest mantle clad 
 And graced with all philosophy can add, 
 
 Though fair without, and luminous within, 
 
 Is still the progeny and heir of sin. 
 
 Thus taught, down falls the plumage of his pride, 
 He feels the need of an unerring guide, 
 
 And knows that, falling, he shall rise no more, 
 Unless the power that bade him stand, restore. 
 
 63 BIGOTRY 
 
 This is indeed philosophy : this known, 
 
 Makes wisdom worthy of the name, his own; 
 
 And, without this, whatever he discuss,— 
 
 Whether the space betwixt the stars and us ; 
 Whether he measure earth, compute the sea, 
 
 Weigh sunbeams, carve a fly, or spit a flea,— 
 
 The solemn trifler, with his boasted skill, 
 
 Toils much, and is a solemn trifler still; 
 
 Blind was he born, and his miguided eyes 
 Grown dim in trifling studies, blind he dies. 
 
 Cowpcr. 
 
 314. BIBLE. Reading the 
 
 Within this ample volume lies 
 The mystery of mysteries : 
 
 Happiest they of human race 
 To whom their God has given grace, 
 
 To read, to fear, to hope, to pray, 
 
 To lift the latch, to force the way ; 
 
 And better had they ne’er been bom 
 That read to doubt, or read to scorn.— Scoff. 
 
 315. BIBLE. Search the 
 
 Yes, ’tis a mine of precious jewelry, 
 
 The Book of God; a well of streams divine ! 
 
 But who would wish the riches of that mine 
 To make his own ; his thirst, to satisfy 
 From that pure well; must ear, eye, soul, apply; 
 On precept precept scan, and line on line; 
 Search, ponder, sift, compare, divide, combine, 
 For truths that oft beneath the surface lie. 
 
 Yes ; there are things which he who runs may read, 
 Nor few there are, which yield a harder part, 
 
 To mark, discern, and know. With cautious heed, 
 ’Tis God’s command, survey thy safety’s chart; 
 Lest arduous things, distorted, death-ward lead 
 The mind unlearn’d, and the unstable heart. 
 
 > Mant. 
 
 316. BIGOTS : slaves to custom. 
 
 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.— Cowper. 
 
 317. BIGOTRY : cursed. 
 
 O LOVE-destroying, cursed Bigotry; 
 
 Cursed in heaven, but cursed more in hell! 
 
 The infidel who turn’d his impious war 
 Against the walls of Zion, on the Rock 
 Of Ages built, and higher than the clouds, 
 
 Sinn’d and received his due reward: but she 
 Within her walls sinn’d more ; of Ignorance 
 Begot, her daughter, Persecution, walk’d 
 The earth from age to age, and drank the blood 
 Of saints.— Pollok. 
 
BIGOTRY 
 
 64 
 
 BIRTH 
 
 318. BIGOTRY. Fate of 
 
 The bigot theologian—in minute 
 Distinctions skill’d, and doctrines unreduced 
 To practice ; in debate how loud ! how long ! 
 
 How dexterous ! in Christian love, how cold ! 
 
 His vain conceits were orthodox alone. 
 
 The immutable and heavenly truth, reveal’d 
 By God, was nought to him: he had an art, 
 
 A kind of hellish charm, that made the lips 
 Of truth speak falsehood ; to his liking turn’d 
 The meaning of the text; made trifles seem 
 The marrow of salvation ; to a word, 
 
 A name, a sect, that sounded in the ear, 
 
 And to the eye so many letters show’d, 
 
 But did no more—gave value infinite ; 
 
 Proved still his reasoning best, and his belief, 
 Though propp’d on fancies, wild as madmen’s dreams, 
 Most rational, most scriptural, most sound ; 
 
 With mortal heresy denouncing all 
 Who in his arguments could see no force. 
 
 On points of faith too fine for human sight, 
 
 And never understood in heaven, he placed 
 His everlasting hope, undoubting placed, 
 
 And died : and when he open’d his ear, prepared 
 To hear, beyond the grave, the minstrelsy 
 Of bliss—he heard, alas ! the wail of woe. 
 
 He proved all creeds false but his own, and found 
 At last, his own most false—most false, because 
 He spent his time to prove all others so.— Pollok. 
 
 319. BIRTH. High 
 
 Verily, 
 
 I swear, ’tis 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.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Thus, born alike, from virtue first began 
 The diff’rence that distinguish’d man from man: 
 
 He claim’d no title from descent of blood; 
 
 But that which made him noble, made him good. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 Madam, you haply scorn the vulgar earth 
 Of which I stand compacted : and because 
 I cannot add a splendour to my name, 
 
 Reflective from ?. royal pedigree, 
 
 You interdict my language ; but be pleased 
 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 the open cottage, 
 
 Where the poor shepherd’s child is rudely nursed, 
 As on the cradle where the prince is rock’d 
 With care and whisper.— Habbington. 
 
 The honours of a name ’tis just to guard ; 
 
 They are a trust but lent us, which we take, 
 
 And should, in reverence to the donor’s fame, 
 
 With care transmit them down to other hands. 
 
 Shirley. 
 
 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. 
 
 320. BIRTH. The New : its joys. 
 
 Yes, all is plain ! I see, 
 
 I live, I am made free ! 
 
 Oh ! Love, my new-found guest ! 
 
 Sweet peace, and sweetest rest! 
 
 What shall I do, what say, 
 
 In this rare morn which is true life’s first day ? 
 
 All round are odours blown, 
 
 And with soft undertone 
 Faint music pants in all the glowing air. 
 
 The waters call in many a flower-fringed stream ; 
 The earth is very fair, 
 
 And through the depths of tender sky 
 Floats many a cloud-bright argosy ; 
 
 But I have tasted something more divine, 
 
 I see a glory brighter than the May ; 
 
 I hear what angels to each other say ; 
 
 A heavenly heart is throbbing against mine. 
 
 These earthly blossoms cannot make my crown, 
 Celestial strains this earthly music drown, 
 
 I look, as through an open door, 
 
 On landscapes that shall fade no more. 
 
 Oh ! Saviour, Jesus, it is all of Thee— 
 
 This sacred sense of what I’m made to be, 
 
 Thy perfect self and my infirmity— 
 
 All, all of Thee—the veil removed, 
 
 The joy that springs in being loved, 
 
 The faith that asks no higher place 
 Than sights of Thy forgiving face. 
 
 Nearer and nearer, Lord, and nearer still; 
 
 Thy work begun, fulfil, 
 
 Shape all my life according to Thy will. 
 
 Thou know’st how I aspire ; 
 
 Accept my strong desire, 
 
 Hope, heart, and mind—my spirit’s deepest deep— 
 Take all, to feed and keep, 
 
 Till my whole soul to Love’s full flower is blown, 
 And Love’s full flower to perfect fruit is grown. 
 
 H. N. Powers. 
 
BIRTHDA Y 
 
 65 
 
 BLESSED 
 
 321. BIRTHDAY. Noting a 
 
 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 ! 
 
 Oh ! 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. 
 
 Mrs Hale. 
 
 322. BIRTHDAY. Thought for a 
 
 It is my natal day ! Another year 
 Is register’d against me in the account 
 Of time to me entrusted, and the amount 
 Of that rich talent for my trial here 
 By one more year diminish’d. As more near 
 My reckoning draws, does evil’s inborn fount 
 Within me more subside, and, paramount 
 . To the world’s love, the love of God sincere 
 Reign arbiter ?—Oh, may each year, each day, 
 
 By Him vouchsafed, to Him its tribute pour, 
 And His free love with answering love repay : 
 
 Worthless, alas ! Yet such as may for store 
 Of blessings given meet gratitude display, 
 
 Till the night come, and I can work no more. 
 
 Mant. 
 
 323. BIRTH OF CHRIST. Heathenism at the 
 
 The oracles are dumb, 
 
 No voice or hideous hum 
 
 Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. 
 Apollo from his shrine 
 Can no more divine, 
 
 With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving. 
 No nightly trance, or breathed spell, 
 
 Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell. 
 
 Peor and Baalim 
 Forsake their temples dim, 
 
 With that twice-batter’d god of Palestine ; 
 
 And mooned Ashtaroth, 
 
 Heaven’s queen and mother both, 
 
 Now sits not girt with tapers’ holy shine ; 
 
 The Libyc Hammon shrinks his horn, 
 
 In vain the Tyrian maids their wounded Thammuz 
 mourn. 
 
 And sullen Moloch fled, 
 
 Hath left in shadows dread 
 
 His burning idol all of blackest hue : 
 
 In vain with cymbals’ ring, 
 
 They call the grisly king, 
 
 In dismal dance about the furnace blue : 
 
 The brutish gods of Nile as fast, 
 
 Isis and Orus, and the dog Anubis, haste 
 
 Nor is Osiris seen 
 In Memphian grove or green, 
 
 Trampling the unshower’d grass with lowings loud: 
 Nor can he be at rest 
 Within his sacred chest, 
 
 Nought but profoundest Hell can be his shroud ; 
 In vain with timbrel’d anthems dark 
 The sable-stoled sorcerers bear his worshipp’d ark. 
 
 He feels from Judah’s land 
 The dreaded Infant’s hand, 
 
 The rays of Bethlehem blind his dusky eyne ; 
 
 Nor all the gods beside 
 Longer dare abide.— Milton. 
 
 324. BIRTH OF CHRIST. Peace at the 
 
 No war or battle’s sound 
 Was heard the world around, 
 
 The idle spear and shield were high up hung, 
 
 The hooked chariot stood 
 Unstain’d with hostile blood ; 
 
 The trumpet spake not to the armed throng ; 
 
 And kings sat still with awful eye, 
 
 As if they surely knew their sov’reign Lord was by. 
 
 But peaceful was the night 
 Wherein the Prince of Light 
 
 His reign of peace upon the earth began : 
 
 The winds, with wonder whist, 
 
 Smoothly the waters kiss’d, 
 
 Whisp’ring new joys to the mild ocean, 
 
 Who now hath quite forgot to rave, 
 
 While birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed 
 wave. — Milton. 
 
 325. BIRTH OF CHRIST. Welcoming the 
 
 All hail, Thou noble Guest, this morn, 
 Whose love did not the sinner scorn ! 
 
 In my distress Thou cam’st to me : 
 
 What thanks shall I return to thee ? 
 
 Were earth a thousand times as fair, 
 
 Beset with gold and jewels rare, 
 
 She yet were far too poor to be 
 A narrow cradle, Lord, for Thee. 
 
 Ah, dearest Jesus, Holy Child ! 
 
 Make Thee a bed, soft, undefiled, 
 
 Within my heart, that it may be 
 A quiet chamber kept for Thee.— Liither. 
 
 326. BLESSED? Who are the 
 
 Who are the bless’d? 
 
 They who have kept their sympathies awake, 
 
 And scatter’d joy for more than custom’s sake— 
 
 5 
 
BLESSEDNESS 
 
 66 
 
 BLINDNESS 
 
 Steadfast and tender in the hour of need, 
 
 Gentle in thought, benevolent in deed ; 
 
 Whose looks have power to make dissensions cease— 
 Whose smile is pleasant and whose words are peace ; 
 They who have lived as harmless as the dove, 
 Teachers of truth and ministers of love ; 
 
 Love for all moral power—all mental grace— 
 
 Love for the humblest of the human race— 
 
 Love for that tranquil joy that virtue brings— 
 
 Love for the Giver of all goodly things; 
 
 True followers of that soul-exalting plan 
 Which Christ laid down to bless and govern man; 
 They who can calmly linger to the last, 
 
 Survey the future and recall the past; 
 
 And with that hope which triumphs over pain, 
 
 Feel well assured they have not lived in vain ; 
 
 Then wait in peace their hour of final rest— 
 
 These are the only bless’d !— Prince. 
 
 327. BLESSEDNESS. True 
 
 In the nine heavens are eight Paradises ; 
 
 Where is the ninth one ? In the human breast. 
 
 Only the blessed dwell in th’ Paradises, 
 
 But blessedness dwells in the human breast. 
 
 Created creatures are in th’ Paradises, 
 
 The uncreated Maker in the breast. 
 
 Given to thee are those eight Paradises, 
 
 When thou the ninth one hast within thy breast.’ 
 
 Oriental. 
 
 328. BLIND. The : how much they are to be 
 
 pitied. 
 
 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. 
 
 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. 
 
 329. BLINDNESS. Compensation of 
 
 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, raised above the level 
 Of his low creeping thoughts : if then I have 
 A world within myself, that world shall be 
 My empire, there I’ll 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. 
 
 Denham . 
 
 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 Howitt. 
 
 330. BLINDNESS. Complaint of 
 
 O LOSS of sight, of thee I most complain ! 
 
 Blind among enemies, O worse than chains, 
 Dungeon, or beggary, or decrepit age ! 
 
 Light, the prime work of God, to me is extinct, 
 
 And all her various objects of delight 
 
 Annull’d, which might in part my grief have ceased. 
 
 Inferior to the vilest now become 
 
 Of man or worm ; the vilest here excel me : 
 
 They creep, yet see ; I dark in light, exposed 
 To daily fraud, contempt, abuse, and wrong, 
 
 Within doors or without still as a fool, 
 
 In power of others, never in my own ; 
 
 Scarce half I seem to live, dead more than half. 
 
 O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon, 
 Irrecoverably dark, total eclipse, 
 
 Without all hope of day ! 
 
 Milton’s ‘ Samson Agonistes. 
 
 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. 
 
 Blacklock. 
 
 331. BLINDNESS: cured. 
 
 Blind, poor, and helpless, Bartimeus sat, 
 
 List’ning the foot of the wayfaring man, 
 
 Still hoping that the next, and still the next, 
 
 Would put an alms into his trembling hand. 
 
 He thinks he hears the coming breeze faint rustle 
 Among the sycamores ; it is the tread 
 Of thousand steps, it is the hum of tongues 
 Innumerable ; but when the sightless man 
 Heard that the Nazarene was passing by, 
 
 He cried and said, ‘Jesus, thou Son of David, 
 
BLINDNESS 
 
 67 
 
 BLISS 
 
 Have mercy upon me ! ’ and when rebuked 
 He cried the more, ‘ Have mercy upon me ! ’ 
 
 ‘ Thy faith hath made thee whole ; ’ so Jesus spake, 
 And straight the blind beheld the face of God! 
 
 Graham. 
 
 335. BLISS. Earthly and Heavenly 
 
 Two magnets, heav’n and earth, allure to bliss, 
 The larger loadstone that, the nearer this. 
 
 Dry dm. 
 
 332. BLINDNESS. Duty in 
 
 When I consider how my life is spent 
 
 Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, 
 
 1 And that one talent, which is death to hide, 
 Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent 
 To serve therewith my Maker, and present 
 . My true account, lest He returning chide ; 
 
 1 ‘ Doth God exact day-labour, light denied ? ’ 
 
 I fondly ask : but Patience, to prevent 
 That murmur, soon replies, £ God doth not need 
 Either man’s work or His own gifts ; who best 
 Bear His mild yoke, they serve Him best : His state 
 Is kingly ; thousands at His bidding speed, 
 
 ' And post o’er land and ocean without rest; 
 
 •They also serve who only stand and wait.’ 
 
 Milton. 
 
 333. BLINDNESS. Milton’s 
 
 These eyes, though clear, 
 
 To outward view, of blemish or of spot, 
 
 Bereft of. light, their seeing have forgot; 
 tfor to their idle orbs doth sight appear 
 Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year, 
 
 , Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not 
 1 Against Heaven’s hand or will, nor bate a jot 
 Df heart or hope ; but still bear up and steer 
 light onward. What supports me, dost thou ask ? 
 
 The conscience, friend, to have lost them overplied 
 n liberty’s defence, my noble task, 
 
 Of which all Europe rings from side to side. 
 
 This might lead me throughout the world’s vain mask 
 Content, though blind, had I no better guide. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 334. BLINDNESS. Prayer in 
 
 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 
 Out off, and for the book of knowledge fair 
 Presented with a universal blank 
 Df nature’s works, to me expunged and razed, 
 
 And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out. 
 
 So much the rather Thou, celestial Light, 
 
 Shine inward, and the mind through all her pow’rs 
 Irradiate; there plant eyes, all mist from thence 
 Purge and disperse, that I may see and tell 
 Of things invisible to mortal sight.— Milton. 
 
 336. BLISS : independent of circumstances. 
 
 Condition, circumstance, is not the thing : 
 Bliss is the same in subject or in king ; 
 
 In who obtain defence, or who defend, 
 
 In him who is, or him who finds, a friend. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 337. BLISS : its uncertainty. 
 
 Oft when blind mortals think themselves secure, 
 In height of bliss, they touch the brink of ruin. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 338. BLISS. Sublunary 
 
 The spider’s most attenuated thread 
 Is cord, is cable, to man’s tender tie 
 On earthly bliss; it breaks at every breeze. 
 
 O ye bless’d scenes of permanent delight! 
 
 Full, above measure ! lasting, beyond bound ! 
 
 A perpetuity of bliss is bliss. 
 
 Could you, so rich in rapture, fear an end ; 
 
 That ghastly thought would drink up all your joy, 
 And quite unparadise the realms of light. 
 
 Bliss ! sublunary bliss !—proud words and vain ; 
 Implicit treason to Divine decree ! 
 
 A bold invasion of the rights of heaven ! 
 
 I clasp’d the phantoms, and I found them air. 
 
 Oh had I weigh’d it ere my fond embrace, 
 
 What darts of agony had miss’d my heart I— Young. 
 
 339. BLISS : the object of human search. 
 
 Poor humankind, all dazed in open day, 
 
 Err after bliss, and blindly miss their way. 
 
 Dryden 
 
 340. BLISS : though transient not to be despised. 
 
 Though duller thoughts succeed, 
 
 The bliss e’en of a moment still is bliss. 
 
 Thou would’st not of her dew-drops spoil the thorn 
 Because her glory will not last till noon. 
 
 Joanna Baillie. 
 
 341. BLISS : where it is to be found. 
 
 Some place the bliss in action, some in ease ; 
 Those call it pleasure, and contentment these. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Vain, very vain, my weary search to find 
 That bliss which only centres in the mind. 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
BODY 
 
 68 
 
 BOOKS 
 
 342. BODY. The glorified 
 
 ’Tis night : behold, as if by death opprest, 
 
 The sun his rays in gloom sepulchral hide ! 
 
 ’Tis day : behold, with renovated pride, 
 
 In the magnificence of morning drest, 
 
 The sun, rejoicing, lifts his orient crest ; 
 
 A bridegroom issuing forth to meet his bride ! 
 Thus, like the sun beneath the ocean tide, 
 
 The Christian seeks the chamber of his rest; 
 Thus, like the sun, to rise !—But not the same 
 Shall rise, as when his mortal course was run : 
 To that unearthly, pure, ethereal flame, 
 
 That robe of amaranthine radiance spun, 
 
 No nearer likeness this vile form may claim, 
 
 Than glimmering starlight to yon glorious sun. 
 
 Mant. 
 
 343. BOLDNESS. 
 
 Write on your doors the saying wise and old, 
 
 ‘ Be bold ! be bold! and everywhere be bold ; 
 But not too bold! ’ Yet better the excess 
 Than the defect; better the more than less ; 
 Better like Hector in the field to die, 
 
 Than like the perfumed Paris turn and fly. 
 
 344. BOOK. Dedication of a 
 
 Go, little Book ! from this my solitude 
 I cast thee on the waters,—go thy ways ; 
 
 And if, as I believe, thy vein be good, 
 
 The World will find thee after many days. 
 
 Be it with thee according to thy worth : 
 
 Go, little Book ! in faith I send thee forth. 
 
 Southey. 
 
 345. BOOKS : cannot always please. 
 
 Books cannot always please, however good; 
 Minds are not ever craving for their food. 
 
 Crabbe. 
 
 346. BOOKS : embodied thoughts. 
 
 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. 
 
 Over bury. 
 
 347. BOOKS. Enduring 
 
 Composed of many thoughts, possessing, each, 
 Innate and underived vitality : 
 
 Which having fitly shaped, and well arranged, 
 
 In brotherly accord they builded up 
 A stately superstructure, that, nor wind, 
 
 Nor wave, nor shock of falling years could move ; 
 
 Majestic and indissolubly firm, 
 
 As ranks of veteran warriors in the field ; 
 
 Each by himself alone, and singly seen—• 
 
 A sea of valour, dread ! invincible ! 
 
 Books of this sort, or sacred, or profane, 
 
 Which virtue help’d, were titled not amiss, 
 
 The medicine of the mind : who read them, read 
 Wisdom, and was refresh’d ; and on his path 
 Of pilgrimage with healthier step advanced.— Pollc 
 
 348. BOOKS. Good 
 
 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 
 
 Heath. 
 
 349. BOOKS. Immortal 
 
 The Wise 
 
 (Minstrel or Sage), ozit of their books are clay ; 
 
 But in their books, as from their graves, they rise, 
 Angels, that side by side, upon our way, 
 
 Walk with and warn us ! 
 
 We call some books immortal! Do they live ? 
 
 If so, believe me, time hath made them pure. 
 
 In Books, the veriest wicked rest in peace— 
 
 God wills that nothing evil should endure; 
 
 The grosser parts fly off and leave the whole, 
 
 As the dust leaves the disembodied soul! 
 
 Bulwer Lytton. 
 
 350. BOOKS : men of higher stature. 
 
 Books are men of higher stature, 
 
 And the only men that speak aloud for future tim 
 to hear !— Mrs Browning. 
 
 351. BOOKS. Multiplicity of 
 
 Productive was the world 
 In many things, but most in books : like swarms 
 Of locusts which God sent to vex a land 
 Rebellious long, admonish’d long in vain, 
 
 Their numbers they pour’d annually on man, 
 
 From heads conceiving still; perpetual birth ! 
 Thou wonderest how the world contain’d them all 
 Thy wonder stay : like men, this was their doom : 
 That dust they were, and should to dust return. 
 And oft their fathers, childless and bereaved, 
 
 Wept o’er their graves, when they themselves wei 
 green, 
 
 And on them fell, as fell on every age, 
 
 As on their authors fell, oblivious Night.— Pollok. 
 
 352. BOOKS : never-failing friends. 
 
 My days among the dead are pass’d ; 
 Around me I behold, 
 
BOOKS 
 
 69 
 
 BLUNT NESS 
 
 Where’er these casual eyes are cast, 
 
 The mighty minds of old ; 
 
 My never-failing friends are they, 
 
 With whom I converse night and day. 
 
 Southey. 
 
 353- BOOKS. Pleasure of 
 
 Give me 
 
 xave to enjoy myself. That place that does 
 "ontain my books, the best companions, is 
 "o me a glorious court, where hourly I 
 Converse with the old sages and philosophers ; 
 
 Vnd sometimes for variety I confer 
 
 Vith kings and emperors, and weigh their counsels ; 
 
 falling their victories, if unjustly got, 
 
 Jnto a strict account; and in my fancy 
 )eface their ill-placed statues. Can I then 
 ’art with such constant pleasures, to embrace 
 Jncertain vanities ? No : be it your care 
 '0 augment a heap of wealth: it shall be mine 
 '0 increase in knowledge.— Fletcher. 
 
 354. BOOKS : recall the past. 
 
 In them, we 
 
 V T ho, but for them, upon that inch of ground 
 Ve call ‘ The Present,’ from the cell could see 
 !o daylight trembling on the dungeon bar ; 
 
 'urn, as we list, the globe’s great axle round, 
 'raverse all space, and number every star, 
 md feel the Near less household than the Far ! 
 here is no Past, so long as Books shall live! 
 
 disinterr’d Pompeii wakes again 
 or him who seeks you well; lost cities give 
 p their untarnish’d wonders, and the reign 
 >f Jove revives and Saturn: at our will 
 ise dome and tower on Delphi’s sacred hill; 
 loom Cimon’s trees in Academe ; along 
 eucadia’s headland sighs the Lesbian’s song ; 
 fith ^Egypt’s Queen once more we sail the Nile, 
 nd learn how worlds are barter’d for a smile ; 
 ise up, ye walls, with gardens blooming o’er, 
 pe but that page—lo, Babylon once more ! 
 
 Bulwer Lytton. 
 
 he past but lives in w-ords: a thousand ages 
 fere blank, if books had not evoked their ghosts, 
 nd kept the pale, unbodied shades to warn us 
 rom fleshless lips.— Bulwer Lytton. 
 
 355 - BOOKS : their chief perfections. 
 
 ’Tis in books the chief 
 Of all perfections to be plain and brief. 
 
 Butler. 
 
 356. BOOKS : their ends. 
 
 Books should to one of these four ends conduce : 
 For wisdom, piety, delight, or us e.—Denham. 
 
 357- BOOKS : their influence. 
 
 Books are not seldom talismans and spells. 
 
 Ccnvper. 
 
 358. BOOKS : their ministry. 
 
 Dreams, books, are each a world; and books, we 
 know, 
 
 Are a substantial world, both pure and good ; 
 Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and 
 blood, 
 
 Our pastime and our happiness will grow. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 W e 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 we yearn, 
 
 And gather from the silent page 
 The just reproof, the counsel sage, 
 
 The consolation kind and true 
 
 That soothes and heals the wounded heart. 
 
 Mrs Hale. 
 
 359 - BOOKS : treasure-houses. 
 
 Books are yours, 
 
 Within whose silent chambers treasure lies 
 Preserved from age to age ; more precious far 
 Than that accumulated store of gold 
 And orient gems which, for a day of need, 
 
 The Sultan hides deep in ancestral tombs. 
 
 These hoards of truth you can unlock at will. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 360. BOOKWORM. The 
 
 Uncertain and unsettled he remains, 
 
 Deep versed in books, and shallow in himself. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 361. BLUNTNESS. 
 
 This is some fellow 
 
 Who, having been praised 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.— Shakespeare. 
 
BOUNTY 
 
 70 
 
 BROTHERHOOD 
 
 This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit, 
 
 Which gives men stomach to digest his words 
 With better appetite. —Shakespeare. 
 
 I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, 
 
 Nor actions, nor utterance, nor the power of speech, 
 To stir men’s blood: I only speak right on. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 362. BOUNTY. 
 
 What you desire of him, he partly begs 
 To be desired to give. It much would please him 
 That of his fortunes you would make a staff 
 To lean upon.— Shakespeare. 
 
 For his bounty, 
 
 There was no winter in’t; an autumn ’twas, 
 
 That grew the more by reaping.— Shakespeare. 
 
 He that’s liberal 
 
 To all alike, may do a good by chance, 
 
 But never out of judgment.— Beaumont and Fletcher. 
 
 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. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 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. 
 
 363. BRAVE MEN. 
 
 No, there is a necessity in fate 
 
 Why still the brave bold man is fortunate ; 
 
 He keeps his object ever full in sight, 
 
 And that assurance holds him firm and right: 
 
 True, ’tis a narrow path that leads to bliss, 
 
 But right before there is no precipice ; 
 
 Fear makes men look aside, and so their footing 
 miss.— Dryden. 
 
 But while hope lives 
 
 Let not the generous die. ’lis late before 
 The brave despair.— Thomson. 
 
 364. BREVITY. 
 
 Since brevity is the soul of wit, 
 
 And tediousness the limbs and outward flouiishes, 
 
 I will be brief. —Shakespeare. 
 
 365. BROODING OVER TROUBLE : forbid¬ 
 
 den. 
 
 . Imprison not 
 Within thy breast 
 
 Needless germs of sorrow; 
 
 The storm to-day, 
 
 With fury blent, 
 
 Precedes sunshine to-morrow. 
 
 Then fly away, 
 
 Each sombre thought, 
 
 To realms of fabled things ; 
 
 Nor let one hope 
 Unheeded pass, 
 
 Or lose one joy it brings. 
 
 Emma Thompson. 
 
 366. BROTHERHOOD. Bond of 
 
 When a deed is done for Freedom, through the 
 broad earth’s aching breast 
 
 Runs a thrill of joy prophetic, trembling on from east 
 to west; 
 
 And the slave, where’er he cowers, feels the soul 
 within him climb 
 
 To the awful verge of manhood, as the energy sub¬ 
 lime 
 
 Of a century bursts full-blossom’d on the thorny 
 stem of Time. 
 
 Through the walls of hut and palace shoots the in¬ 
 stantaneous throe, 
 
 Where the travail of the Ages wrings earth’s systems 
 to and fro ; 
 
 At the birth of each new Era, with a recognizing 
 start, 
 
 Nation wildly looks at nation, standing with mute 
 lips apart, 
 
 And glad Truth’s yet mightier man-child leaps be 
 neath the Future’s heart. 
 
 So the Evil’s triumph sendeth, with a terror and 1 
 chill, 
 
 Under continent to continent, the sense of cominj 
 
 m, 
 
 And the slave, where’er he cowers, feels his sympa 
 thies with God 
 
 In hot teardrops ebbing earthward, to be drunk u 
 by the sod, 
 
 Till a corpse crawls round unburied, delving in tbj 
 nobler clod. 
 
 For mankind are one in spirit, and an instinct bea: j 
 along, 
 
 Round the earth’s electric circle, the swift flash <1 
 right or wrong ; 
 
 Whether conscious or unconscious, yet Humanity I 
 vast frame 
 
 Through its ocean-sunder’d fibres feels the gush 
 joy or shame ; 
 
 In the gain or loss of one race all the rest have ecpi ,jjj 
 claim.— Lowell. 
 
BROTHERHOOD 
 
 BUILDING 
 
 7i 
 
 367. BROTHERHOOD. Disbelief of mans 
 
 ARLY from heaven it was reveal’d, and oft 
 Repeated in the world, from pulpits preach’d, 
 
 And penn’d and read in holy books, that God 
 Respected not the persons of mankind. 
 
 Had this been truly credited and felt, 
 
 The king, in purple robe, had own’d, indeed, 
 
 The beggar for his brother ; pride of rank 
 And office thaw’d into paternal love ; 
 
 Oppression fear’d the day of equal rights 
 
 Predicted ; covetous extortion kept 
 
 [n mind the hour of reck’ning, soon to come ; 
 
 And bribed injustice thought of being judged, 
 
 When he should stand on equal foot beside 
 The man he wrong’d. And surely—nay, ’tis true, 
 Most true, beyond all whispering of doubt, 
 
 That he, who lifted up the reeking scourge, 
 
 Dripping with gore from the slave’s back, before 
 He struck again, had paused, and seriously 
 □f that tribunal thought, where God Himself 
 Should look him in the face, and ask in wrath, 
 
 ‘ Why didst thou this? Man ! was he not thy brother? 
 Bone of thy bone, and flesh and blood of thine ? ; 
 
 But ah ! this truth, by heaven and reason taught, 
 Was never fully credited on earth. 
 
 The titled, flatter’d, lofty men of power, 
 
 Whose wealth bought verdicts of applause for deeds 
 Of wickedness, could ne’er believe the time 
 Should truly come, when judgment should proceed 
 Impartially against them, and they, too, 
 
 Have no good speaker at the Judge’s ear, 
 
 No witnesses to bring them off for gold, 
 
 No power to turn the sentence from its course ; 
 
 And they of low estate, who saw themselves 
 Day after day, despised, and wrong’d, and mock’d, 
 •Without redress, could scarcely think the day 
 Should e’er arrive, when they in truth should stand 
 On perfect level with the potentates 
 And princes of the earth, and have their cause 
 [Examined fairly, and their rights allow’d. 
 
 But now this truth was felt, believed and felt, 
 
 That men were really of a common stock ; 
 iThat no man ever had been more than man. 
 
 Pollok. 
 
 368. BROTHERHOOD. Grounds of 
 
 Are we not creatures of one hand Divine, 
 
 Form’d in one mould, to one redemption born, 
 Kindred alike, where’er our skies may shine, 
 Where’er our sight first drank the vital morn? 
 Brothers—one bond around our souls should twine ; 
 
 And woe to him by whom that bond is torn, 
 
 Who mounts by trampling broken hearts to earth, 
 Who bows down spirits of immortal birth ! 
 
 Manzoni. 
 
 369. BROTHERHOOD. Poet of 
 
 Who feels that God and Heaven’s great deeps are 
 
 nearer 
 
 Him to whose heart his fellow-man is nigh, 
 
 Who doth not hold his soul’s own freedom dearer 
 Than that of all his brethren, low or high ; 
 
 Who to the Right can feel himself the truer 
 For being gently patient with the wrong, 
 
 Who sees a brother in the evil-doer, 
 
 And finds in Love the heart’s-blood of his song— 
 This, this is he for whom the world is waiting 
 To sing the beatings of its mighty heart; 
 
 Too long hath it been patient with the grating 
 Of scrannel-pipes, and heard it mis-named Art. 
 
 To him the smiling soul of man shall listen, 
 
 Laying awhile its crown of thorns aside, 
 
 And once again in every eye shall glisten 
 The glory of a nature satisfied. — Lowell. 
 
 370. BUILDING. Cautious 
 
 All are architects of Fate, 
 
 Working in these walls of Time ; ♦ 
 
 Some with massive deeds and great, 
 
 Some with ornaments of rhyme. 
 
 Nothing useless is, or low ; 
 
 Each thing in its place is best; 
 
 And what seems but idle show 
 Strengthens and supports the rest. 
 
 For the structure that we raise, 
 
 Time is with materials fill’d; 
 
 Our to-days and yesterdays 
 
 Are the blocks with which we build. 
 
 Truly shape and fashion these ; 
 
 Leave no yawning gaps between ; 
 
 Think not, because no man sees, 
 
 Such things will remain unseen. 
 
 In the elder days of Art, 
 
 Builders wrought with greatest care 
 
 Each minute and unseen part; 
 
 For the gods see everywhere. 
 
 Let us do our work as well, 
 
 Both the unseen and the seen ; 
 
 Make the house, where gods may dwell, 
 Beautiful, entire, and clean ; 
 
 Else our lives are incomplete, 
 
 Standing in these walls of Time, 
 
 Broken stairways, where the feet 
 Stumble as they seek to climb. 
 
 Build to-day, then, strong and sure, 
 
 With a firm and ample base ; 
 
 And ascending and secure 
 
 Shall to-morrow find its place. 
 
BUILDING 
 
 72 
 
 BURIAL 
 
 Thus alone can we attain 
 
 To those turrets, where the eye 
 Sees the world as one vast plain, 
 
 And one boundless reach of sky. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 371. BUILDING. Gradual 
 
 By trifles, in our common ways, 
 
 Our characters are slowly piled ; 
 
 We lose not all our yesterdays ; 
 
 The man hath something of the child ; 
 
 Part of the Past to all the Present cleaves, 
 
 As the rose-odours linger in fading leaves. 
 
 In ceaseless toil, from year to year, 
 
 Working with loath or willing hands, 
 
 Stone upon stone we shape and rear, 
 
 Till the completed fabric stands ; 
 
 And when the last hush hath all labour still d, 
 
 The searching fire will try what we have striven to 
 build. — IV. Morley Punshon. 
 
 372. BUILDING. Instinctive 
 
 The hand that rounded Peter’s dome, 
 
 And groin’d the aisles of Christian Rome, 
 Wrought in a sad sincerity ; 
 
 Himself from God he could not free ; 
 
 He budded better than he knew ; 
 
 The conscious stone to beauty grew. 
 
 Know’st thou what wove yon woodbird’s nest 
 Of leaves, and feathers from her breast ? 
 
 Or how the fish outbuilt her shell, 
 
 Painting with morn each annual cell ? 
 
 Or how the sacred pine-tree adds 
 To her old leaves new myriads? 
 
 Such and so grew those holy piles, 
 
 Whilst love and terror laid the tiles. 
 
 Earth proudly wears the Parthenon, 
 
 As the best gem upon her zone ; 
 
 And Morning opes with haste her lids, 
 
 To gaze upon the Pyramids; 
 
 O’er England’s abbeys bends the sky, 
 
 As on its friends, with kindred eye ; 
 
 For out of Thought’s interior sphere, 
 
 These wonders rose to upper air ; 
 
 And Nature gladly gave them place, 
 
 Adopted them into her race, 
 
 And granted them an equal date 
 With Andes and with Ararat. 
 
 These temples grew as grows the grass ; 
 
 Art might obey, but not surpass ; 
 
 The passive Master lent his hand 
 To the vast soul that o’er him plann’d. 
 
 R. JV. Emerson. 
 
 373. BUILDING. Neglect of 
 
 Whate’er thou purposest to do, 
 
 With an unwearied zeal pursue ; 
 
 To-day is thine—improve to-day, 
 
 Nor trust to-morrow’s distant ray. 
 
 A certain man a house would build ; 
 
 The place is with materials fill’d ; 
 
 And everything is ready there— 
 
 Is it a difficult affair? 
 
 Yes ! till you fix the corner-stone ; 
 
 It won’t erect itself alone. 
 
 Day rolls on day, and year on year, 
 
 And nothing yet is done— 
 
 There’s always something to delay 
 The business to another day. 
 
 And thus in silent waiting stood 
 The piles of stone and piles of wood, 
 
 Till Death, who in his vast affairs 
 Ne’er puts things off, as men do theirs— 
 And thus, if I the truth must tell, 
 
 Does his work finally and well — 
 
 Wink’d at our hero as he pass’d, 
 
 ‘ Your house is finish’d, sir, at last; 
 
 A narrower house—a house of clay 
 Your palace for another day ! ’ 
 
 Tr. from the Russian by Bowring. 
 
 374. BURDEN. Help with the 
 
 Child of my love, ‘ lean hard,’ 
 
 And let me feel the pressure of thy care. 
 
 I know thy burden, child : I shaped it, 
 
 Poised it in my own hand, made no proportion 
 In its weight to thine unaided strength ; 
 
 For even as I laid it on I said, 
 
 I shall be near, and while she leans on me, 
 
 This burden shall be mine, not hers : 
 
 So shall I keep my child within the circling arms 
 Of ‘ mine own love.’ Here lay it down, nor fear 
 To impose it on a shoulder which upholds 
 The government of worlds. "V et closer come ; 
 
 Thou art not near enough, I would embrace thy care. 
 So I might feel my child reposing on my breast. 
 Thou lovest me, I know it, doubt not, then ; 
 
 But loving me— lean hard ! 
 
 375. BURIAL. Hymn for a Christian’s 
 
 Ye principalities and powers 
 That never tasted death, 
 
 Witness from off your heavenly towers 
 Our act of Christian faith. 
 
 Though tears will fall and hearts are stirr d, 
 
 We know in whom we trust; 
 
BURIAL 
 
 73 
 
 BURIAL 
 
 And confident in His sure word 
 We bear the ‘dust to dust.’ 
 
 We sow this seed in earth to die, 
 
 In the great Master’s name, 
 
 Type of decay and vanity, 
 
 In weakness and in shame. 
 
 It shall arise a holy shrine 
 Of glory, beauty, might, 
 
 Fit for a spirit made divine ; 
 
 All purity, all light. 
 
 Thanks be to God, there is no death 
 For all that trust His word : 
 
 Thanks be to God, for victory 
 
 Through Jesus Christ our Lord.— Rcnvson. 
 
 376. BURIAL. Sequence of 
 
 Gather up, O earth ! thy dead ; 
 
 Grass ! thy peaceful pillow spread, 
 
 Add another mortal’s bed 
 
 To the bed where mortals sleep : 
 
 Where they sleep—but not to rise 
 When morn’s sunlight clears the skies, 
 
 But to rest—while centuries 
 
 Their long-during watches keep. 
 
 Centuries shall pass away ; 
 
 Earth shall hasten to decay ; 
 
 Days will bring of days the day 
 When the exhausted cycles end ; 
 
 Then, earth’s every fugitive 
 Shall appear ; the grave shall give 
 Up its dead, the dead shall live,— 
 
 And the Eternal Judge descend. 
 
 Day of wonders ! day of woe ! 
 
 Day of evil’s overthrow ; 
 
 Day of joy ! when all shall know— 
 
 Know and see the Lord of heaven ! 
 
 Then, O then, may hope appear, 
 
 Faith our fainting spirits cheer, 
 
 Love dry up the trembling tear, 
 
 Whispering sweetly, ‘ Sins forgiven ! ’ 
 
 Bowring. 
 
 377. BURIAL. The Christian’s 
 
 Cease, ye tearful mourners, 
 
 Thus your hearts to rend : 
 
 Death is life’s beginning 
 Rather than its end. 
 
 All the grave’s adornments, 
 
 What do they declare, 
 
 Save that the departed 
 Are but sleeping there ? 
 
 What though now to darkness 
 We this body give ; 
 
 Soon shall all its senses 
 Re-awake and live. 
 
 E’en as duly scatter’d 
 By the sower’s hand 
 
 In the fading autumn 
 O’er the fallow land, 
 
 Nature's seed, decaying, 
 
 First in darkness dies, 
 
 Ere it can in glory 
 Renovated rise. 
 
 Earth, to thy fond bosom 
 We this pledge intrust ; 
 
 Oh ! we pray, be careful 
 Of the precious dust. 
 
 This was once the mansion 
 Of a soul endow’d 
 
 With sublimest powers, 
 
 By the breath of God. 
 
 Here eternal Wisdom 
 Lately made His home ; 
 
 And again will claim it 
 In the days to come. 
 
 O divinest period ! 
 
 Speed upon thy way ; 
 
 O eternal Justice ! 
 
 Make no more delay. 
 
 When shall love in glory 
 Its fruition see ? 
 
 When shall hope be lost in 
 Immortality ? 
 
 Prudeutius Clemens , tr. by E. Casivall. 
 
 378. BURIAL. The Sinner’s 
 
 Wrapt in a Christless shroud, 
 
 He sleeps the Christless sleep ; 
 
 Above him, the eternal cloud, 
 
 Beneath, the fiery deep. 
 
 Laid in a Christless tomb, 
 
 There, bound with felon-chain, 
 
 He waits the terrors of his doom, 
 
 The judgment and the pain. 
 
 O Christless shroud, how cold ! 
 
 How dark, O Christless tomb ! 
 
 O grief that never can grow old ! 
 
 O endless, hopeless doom ! 
 
 O Christless sleep, how sad ! 
 
 What waking shalt thou know ? 
 
 For thee no star, no dawning glad, 
 
 Only the lasting woe ! 
 
BURIAL-GROUND 
 
 74 - 
 
 CANDOUR 
 
 To rocks and hills in vain 
 Shall be the sinner’s call ; 
 
 O day of wrath, and death, and pain, 
 
 The lost soul’s funeral ! 
 
 O Christless soul, awake 
 Ere thy last sleep begin ! 
 
 O Christ, the sleeper’s slumbers break, 
 
 Burst Thou the bands of sin !— Bonar. 
 
 379. BURIAL-GROUND. Sacredness of the 
 
 I LIKE that ancient Saxon phrase which calls 
 The burial-ground God’s-Acre ! It is just; 
 
 It consecrates each grave within its walls, 
 
 And breathes a benison o’er the sleeping dust. 
 
 God’s-Acre ! Yes, that blessed name imparts 
 Comfort to those who in the grave have sown 
 The seed that they had garner’d in their hearts, 
 
 Their bread of life, alas ! no more their own. 
 
 Into its furrows shall we all be cast, 
 
 In the sure faith that we shall rise again 
 At the great harvest, when the archangel’s blast 
 Shall winnow, like a fan, the chaff and grain. 
 
 Then shall the good stand in immortal bloom, 
 
 In the fair gardens of that second birth ! 
 
 And each bright blossom mingle its perfume 
 
 With that of flowers which never bloom'd on 
 earth. 
 
 With thy rude ploughshare, Death, turn up the sod, 
 And spread the furrow for the seed we sow; 
 
 This is the field and Acre of our God, 
 
 This is the place where human harvests grow ! 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 380. BUSINESS. Vain 
 
 The business of the world is child's play mere ; 
 
 Too many, ah ! the children playing here : 
 
 Their pleasure and their woe, their loss and gain, 
 Alike mean nothing, and alike are vain. 
 
 As children who, to pass the time away, 
 
 Build up their booths, to buy and sell in play ; 
 
 But homeward hungering must at eve repair, 
 
 And standing leave their booths with all their ware : 
 So the world’s children, when their night is come, 
 With empty satchels turn them sadly home. 
 
 R. C. Trench. 
 
 381. 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. 
 
 Daniel. 
 
 Calamity is man’s true touch-stone.— Fletcher. 
 
 How wisely fate ordain’d for humankind 
 Calamity 1 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 destined to continue long, 
 
 Fate, to please fools, had done the wise great wrong. 
 
 Davenant. 
 
 Know, he that 
 
 Foretells his own calamity, and makes 
 Events before they come, twice over doth 
 Endure the pains of evil destiny.— Davenant. 
 
 Methinks, if ye would know 
 
 How visitations of calamity 
 
 Affect the pious soul, ’tis shown you here. 
 
 Look yonder at the cloud, which, through the sky 
 Sailing along doth cross in her career 
 The rolling moon : I watch’d it as it came, 
 
 And deem’d the deep opaque would blot her beams; 
 But, melting like a wreath of snow, it hangs 
 In folds of wavy silver round, and clothes 
 The orb with richer beauties than her own ; 
 
 Then, passing, leaves her in her light serene. 
 
 Southey. 
 
 382. CALMNESS. Prayer for 
 
 Calm me, my God, and keep me calm, 
 
 While these hot breezes blow ; 
 
 Be like the night-dew’s cooling balm 
 Upon earth’s fever’d brow ! 
 
 Calm me, my God, and keep me calm, 
 
 Soft resting on Thy breast; 
 
 Soothe me with holy hymn and psalm, 
 
 And bid my spirit rest. 
 
 Calm me, my God, and keep me calm ; 
 
 Let thine outstretched wing 
 Be like the shade of Elim’s palm 
 Beside her desert spring. 
 
 383. CALUMNY. 
 
 Virtue itself ’scapes not calumnious strokes. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 384. CANDOUR. 
 
 Make my breast 
 
 Transparent as pure crystal, that the world, 
 Jealous of me, may see the foulest thought 
 My heart does hold.— Buckingham. 
 
 The brave do never shun the light; 
 
 Just are their thoughts, and open are their tempers ; 
 Truly without disguise they love or hate ; 
 
 Still are they found in the fair face of day, 
 
 And heaven and men are judges of their actions. 
 
 Roive. 
 
CAPTIVES 
 
 75 
 
 CAPE 
 
 Y ou 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.— Otway. 
 
 ’Tis great—’tis manly to disdain disguise ; 
 
 It shows our spirit, or it proves our strength. 
 
 Young. 
 
 385. CAPTIVES. Jewish 
 
 We sat by Babel’s waters ; and our tears 
 Mingled, in silence, with the silent stream ; 
 
 For, oh ! our hearts went back to happier years, 
 
 And brighter scenes, that faded like a dream. 
 
 Our harps, neglected, hung upon the trees, 
 
 That threw their shadows o’er the waves’ dark 
 crest, 
 
 And sigh’d, responsive to each passing breeze, 
 
 That stirr’d a ripple on its slumbering breast. 
 
 But they who led us captive touch’d the string, 
 
 And waked its music with unhallow’d hand, 
 
 And —mocking all our sadness—bade us sing 
 The song of Zion in a foreign land. 
 
 Oh ! never, never !—hush’d be now its strains ! 
 
 Far, far away her exiled children roam, 
 
 And never will they sound, on other plains, 
 
 The holy music of their native home. 
 
 Jerusalem ! all ruin’d as thou art, 
 
 Thy temple by profaning footsteps trod, 
 
 Still art thou fondly cherish’d in each heart, 
 
 Land of our sires, our childhood, and our God ! 
 
 And, while we wander from thy sheltering wing, 
 
 To lay on distant shores the weary head, 
 
 Like houseless doves—alas ! how can we sing ? 
 
 Our harps are tuneless, and our souls are sad ! 
 
 T. K. Hervey. 
 
 386. CARE (Anxiety) : attends prosperity. 
 
 What bliss, what wealth, did e’er the world bestow 
 On man, but cares and fears attended it ?— May. 
 
 387. CARE (Anxiety) : destroys peace. 
 
 Care that is enter’d once into the breast 
 Will have the whole possession ere it rest. 
 
 Ben Jonson. 
 
 388. CARE (Anxiety) : haunts the aged. 
 
 Care keeps his watch in every old man’s eye, 
 
 And where care lodgeth sleep will never lie. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 X 
 
 389. CARE (Anxiety) : its cure. 
 
 For every care I have the swiftest cure, 
 
 Nor do I fear the roughest road to pass ; 
 
 For why? ‘ My bread and water are most sure,’ 
 
 ‘ My feet as brass. ’ 
 
 ‘ His presence doth go with me all the road. ’ 
 
 Nor are my hopes His promises beyond; 
 
 I only sue the good and faithful God 
 Upon His bond. 
 
 ‘ Unto old age,’ and through the silent vale 
 
 Shadow’d by death, I shall walk cheerfully ; 
 
 It is impossible His Word should fail 
 Even to me. 
 
 So then by anxious cares I am not stirr’d ; 
 
 His promise stretches every care beyond, 
 
 And I can plead His covenanted Word, 
 
 His Word—His bond. 
 
 Lillie E. Barr. 
 
 390. CARE (Anxiety). Needless 
 
 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. 
 
 391. CARE (Anxiety). Rest from 
 
 I lay me down to sleep, 
 
 With little care 
 
 Whether my waking find 
 Me here or there. 
 
 A bow'ing, burden’d head 
 That only asks to rest, 
 
 Unquestioning, upon 
 A loving breast. 
 
 My good right hand forgets 
 Its cunning now : 
 
 To march the weary march 
 I know not how. 
 
 I am not eager, bold, 
 
 Nor strong—all that is past ; 
 
 I am ready not to do 
 At last, at last. 
 
 My half-day’s work is done, 
 
 And this is all my part — 
 
 I give a patient God 
 My patient heart; 
 
 And grasp His banner still, 
 
 Though all the blue be dim ; 
 
 These stripes as well as stars 
 Lead after Him. 
 
 Found under the head of a dead soldier in Port 
 Royal Hospital. 
 
CARE 
 
 CAUSE 
 
 76 
 
 392. CARE (Anxiety). Sermon on 
 
 All nature a sermon may preach thee; 
 
 The birds sing thy murmurs away, 
 
 The birds which, nor sowing nor reaping, 
 
 God fails not to feed day by day ; 
 
 And He, who the creature doth cherish, 
 
 Will He fail thee, and leave thee to perish ? 
 
 Or art thou not better than they ? 
 
 The lilies, nor toiling nor spinning 
 
 Their clothing, how gorgeous and fair ! 
 
 What tints in their tiny robes woven, 
 
 What wondrous devices are there ! 
 
 All Solomon’s stores could not render 
 One festival robe of such splendour 
 
 As the flowers have for every-day wear. 
 
 God gives to each flower its rich raiment, 
 
 And o’er them His treasures flings free, 
 
 Which to-day finds so fragrant in beauty, 
 
 And to-morrow all faded shall see. 
 
 Thus the lilies smile shame on thy care, 
 
 And the happy birds sing it to air : 
 
 Will their God be forgetful of thee ? 
 
 Spegel, tr. by Mrs Charles. 
 
 393. CARE (Anxiety). Succession of 
 
 When one is past, another care we have ; 
 
 Thus woe succeeds a woe, as wave a wave. 
 
 Herrick. 
 
 394. CARE (Anxiety). The Christian’s freedom 
 
 from 
 
 Careful without care I am, 
 
 Nor feel my happy toil, 
 
 Kept in peace by Jesu’s Name, 
 
 Supported by His smile. 
 
 Joyful thus my faith to show, 
 
 I find His service my reward : 
 
 Every work I do below, 
 
 I do it do the Lord. 
 
 Thou, O Lord, in tender love, 
 
 Dost all my burdens bear ; 
 
 Lift my heart to things above, 
 
 And fix it ever there. 
 
 Calm on tumult’s wheel I sit, 
 
 ’Midst busy multitudes alone, 
 
 Sweetly waiting at Thy feet, 
 
 Till all Thy will be done. 
 
 To the desert or the cell 
 Let others blindly fly : 
 
 In this evil world I dwell, 
 
 Unhurt, unspotted I. 
 
 Here I find a house of prayer 
 To which I inwardly retire, 
 
 Walking unconcern’d in care, 
 
 And unconsumed in fire. 
 
 Charles Wesley. 
 
 395. CARE (Anxiety): useless. 
 
 Care is no cure, but rather a corrosive, 
 
 For things that are not to be remedied. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 396. CARE. God’s. 
 
 There are who sigh that no fond heart is theirs, 
 None love them best. O vain and selfish sigh ; 
 Out of the bosom of His love He spares— 
 
 The Father spares the Son, for thee to die : 
 
 For thee He died—for thee He lives again ; 
 
 O’er thee He watches in His boundless reign. 
 
 Thou art as much His care as if beside 
 
 Nor man nor angel lived in heaven or earth: 
 
 Thus sunbeams pour alike their glorious tide 
 To light up worlds, or wake an insect’s mirth; 
 They shine, and shine with unexhausted store ; 
 
 Thou art thy Saviour’s darling—seek no more. 
 
 Keble. 
 
 397. CARE (Heedfulness) : its reward. 
 
 Things done well, 
 
 And with a care, exempt themselves from fear : 
 Things done without example, in their issue 
 Are to be fear’d. —Shakespeare. 
 
 398. CAUSE. Finding the 
 
 j The wall said to the nail, ‘ What have I done, 
 
 That through me thy sharp tooth thou thus dost run ? 
 The nail replied, ‘ Poor fool! what do I know ? 
 
 Ask him who beats my head with many a blow ! ’ 
 
 Oriental , tr. by W. R. Alger. 
 
 399. CAUSE. Judging a 
 
 He that of greatest works is finisher 
 Oft does them by the weakest minister: 
 
 So Holy Writ in babes hath judgment shown 
 When judges have been babes. Great floods hav 
 flown 
 
 From simple sources ; and great seas have dried 
 When miracles have by the greatest been denied. 
 Oft expectation fails, and most oft there 
 Where most it promises ; and oft it hits, 
 
 Where hope is coldest, and despair most sits. 
 
 It is not so with Him that all things knows, 
 
 As ’tis with us that square our guess by shows : 
 
 But most it is presumptuous in us when 
 The help of Heaven we count the act of men. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
CAUSE 
 
 77 
 
 CEREMONY 
 
 400. CAUSE. Unseen 
 
 We see but half the causes of our deeds, 
 
 Seeking them wholly in the outer life, 
 
 And heedless of the encircling spirit-world, 
 
 Which, though unseen, is felt, and sows in us 
 All germs of pure and world-wide purposes. 
 
 From one stage of our being to the next 
 We pass unconscious o’er a slender bridge, 
 
 The momentary work of unseen hands. 
 
 Which crumbles down behind us ; looking back, 
 
 We see the other shore, the gulf between, 
 
 And, marvelling how we won to where we stand, 
 Content ourselves to call the builder Chance. 
 
 We trace the wisdom to the apple’s fall, 
 
 Not to the birth-throes of a mighty Truth 
 Which, for long ages in blank Chaos dumb, 
 
 Yet yearn’d to be incarnate, and had found 
 At last a spirit meet to be the womb 
 From which it might be born to bless mankind,— 
 Not to the soul of Newton, ripe with all 
 The hoarded thoughtfulness of earnest years, 
 
 And waiting but one ray of sunlight more 
 To blossom fully. 
 
 But whence came that ray ? 
 
 We call our sorrows Destiny, but ought 
 Rather to name our high successes so. 
 
 Only the instincts of great souls are Fate, 
 
 And have predestined sway : all other things, 
 
 Except by leave of us, could never be. 
 
 For Destiny is but the breath of God 
 Still moving us, the last fragment left 
 Of our unfallen nature, waking oft 
 Within our thought, to beckon us beyond 
 The narrow circle of the seen and known, 
 
 And always tending to a noble end, 
 
 As all things must that overrule the soul, 
 
 And for a space unseat the helmsman, Will. 
 
 Lowell. 
 
 401. CAUTION. 
 
 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 ? 
 
 U ntimely storms make men expect a dearth : 
 
 All may be well; but if God sort it so, 
 
 ’Tis more than we deserve, or I expect. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Who ’scapes the snare 
 Once, has a certain caution to beware. 
 
 Chapman. 
 
 They that fear the adder’s sting, will not come 
 Near his hissing.— Chapman. 
 
 None pities him that’s in the snare, 
 
 And, warn’d before, would not beware. 
 
 Herrick. 
 
 Fields are full of eyes, and woods have ears ; 
 
 For this the wise are ever on their guard : 
 
 For, unforeseen, they say, is unprepared. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 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. 
 
 402. CENSURE. Lenient 
 
 Ah, look thou largely, with lenient eyes, 
 
 On whatso beside thee may creep and cling, 
 
 For the possible beauty that underlies 
 The passing phase of the meanest thing ! 
 
 What if God’s great angels, whose waiting love 
 Beholdeth our pitiful life below, 
 
 From the holy height of their heaven above, 
 
 Couldn’t bear with the worm till the wings should 
 grow ? 
 
 403. CENSURE. Mitigation of 
 
 Then gently scan your brother man, 
 
 Still gentler sister woman ; 
 
 Though they may gang a kennin’ wrang, 
 
 To step aside is human. 
 
 One point must still be greatly dark, 
 
 The moving why they do it; 
 
 And just as lamely can ye mark 
 How far perhaps they rue it. 
 
 Who made the heart, ’tis He alone 
 Decidedly can try us ; 
 
 He knows each chord,—its various tone, 
 
 Each spring,—its various bias : 
 
 Then at the balance let’s be mute, 
 
 We never can adjust it; 
 
 What’s done we partly may compute, 
 
 But know not what’s resisted.— Burns. 
 
 404. CEREMONY : its purpose. 
 
 Ceremony was but devised 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. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 405. CEREMONY. Mockery of 
 
 And what art thou, thou idol, ceremony? 
 
 What kind of good art thou ? that sufferest more 
 Of mortal grief 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 ? 
 
CEREMONY 
 
 78 
 
 CHARACTER 
 
 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 think’st thou oft, instead of homage sweet, 
 But poison’d flattery ? ' O be sick, great greatness, 
 And bid thy ceremony give thee cure. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 406. CEREMONY. Religious 
 
 Then ceremony leads her bigots forth, 
 
 Prepared 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. 
 
 407. CHANCE. 
 
 As th’ untaught 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.— Shakespeare. 
 
 All nature is but art, unknown to thee; 
 
 All chance, direction which thou canst not see. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 408. CHANGE. Law of 
 
 THE lopped tree in time may grow again ; 
 
 Most naked plants renew both fruit and flower ; 
 The sorriest wight may find release of pain, 
 
 The driest soil suck in some moistening shower ; 
 Times go by turns, and chances change by course, 
 From foul to fair, from better hap to worse. 
 
 The sea of Fortune doth not ever flow, 
 
 She draws her favours to the lowest ebb ; 
 
 Her tides have equal time to come and go ; 
 
 Her loom doth weave the fine and coarsest web ; 
 No joy so great but runneth to an end, 
 
 No hap so hard but may in fine amend. 
 
 Not always fall of leaf, nor ever spring ; 
 
 No endless night, yet no eternal day ; 
 
 The saddest birds a season find to sing; 
 
 The roughest storm a calm may soon allay ; 
 Thus with succeeding turns God tempereth all, 
 That man may hope to rise, yet fear to fall. 
 
 A chance may win that by mischance was lost; 
 
 That net that holds no great, takes little fish, 
 
 In some things all, in all things none are cross’d ; 
 
 Few all they need, but none have all they wish ; 
 Unmeddled joys here to no man befall, 
 
 Who least hath some, who most hath never all. 
 
 Southwell. 
 
 409. CHANGE. Tragic 
 
 My hair was black, but white my life ; 
 
 The colours in exchange are cast! 
 
 The white upon my hair is rife, 
 
 The black upon my life has pass’d. 
 
 Oriental , tr. by W. R. Alger. 
 
 410. CHARACTER : a web woven in secret. 
 
 There is a little spider 
 Who weaves a web so fine 
 It might be lying at your feet, 
 
 With every thread in it complete, 
 
 And you not see a line. 
 
 But early morning shows it, 
 
 Agleam with pearly dew ; 
 
 And in the rising sun it lies, 
 
 Bright as the walls of Paradise, 
 
 With gems of every hue. 
 
 So you and I are weavers, 
 
 And only God can see 
 The woof and warp of deed and thought 
 By which the wondrous robe is wrought 
 That covers you and me. 
 
 God keep our hands from evil, 
 
 And cleanse our hearts from sin, 
 
 That when the final morn shall break, 
 
 Enough be done for Jesus’ sake 
 
 Eternal praise to win .—Helen A. Goodwin. 
 
 411. CHARACTER. Building up 
 
 So build we up the being that we are, 
 
 Thus drinking in the soul of things, 
 
 We shall be wise perforce ; and while inspired 
 By choice, and conscious that the will is free, 
 Unswerving shall we move, as if impell’d 
 By strict necessity along the path 
 Of order and of good. Whate’er we see, 
 
 Whate’er we feel by agency direct 
 Or indirect, shall tend to feed and nurse 
 Our faculties, shall fix in calmer seats 
 Of moral strength, and raise to loftier heights 
 Of love divine, our intellectual soul. — Wordsworth. 
 
 412. CHARACTER. Grades of 
 
 The scale 
 
 Of being is a graduated thing ; 
 
 And deeper than the vanities of power, 
 
 Or the vain pomp of glory, there is writ 
 Gradation, in its hidden characters. 
 
 The pathway to the grave may be the same, 
 
 And the proud man shall tread it, and the ow, 
 
CHARACTER 
 
 79 
 
 CHARITY 
 
 With his bow’d head, shall bear him company. 
 Decay will make no difference, and death, 
 
 With his cold hand, shall make no difference; 
 And there will be no precedence of power, 
 
 In waking at the coming trump of God ; 
 
 But in the temper of the invisible mind, 
 
 The godlike and undying intellect, 
 
 There are distinctions that will live in heaven, 
 When time is a forgotten circumstance ! 
 
 The elevated brow of kings will lose 
 The impress of regalia, and the slave 
 Will wear his immortality as free, 
 
 Beside the crystal waters ; but the depth 
 Of glory in the attributes of God 
 Will measure the capacities of mind ; 
 
 And as the angels differ, will the ken 
 Of gifted spirits glorify Him more. 
 
 It is life’s mystery. The soul of man 
 Createth its own destiny of power ; 
 
 And, as the trial is intenser here, 
 
 His being hath a nobler strength in heaven. 
 
 Willis . 
 
 413. CHARACTER. Thought from 
 
 The rascal, thinking from his point of view, “ 
 Concludes that all the world are rascals too. 
 
 Oriental, tr. by W. R. Alger. 
 
 414. CHARACTER. Vacillation of 
 
 It’s my honest conviction, 
 
 That my breast is a chaos of all contradiction; 
 Religious—deistic—now loyal and warm ; 
 
 Then a dagger-drawn democrat hot for reform : 
 
 This moment a fop, that sententious as Titus ; 
 Democritus now, and anon Heraclitus ; 
 
 Now laughing and pleased, like a child with a rattle ; 
 Then vex’d to the soul with impertinent tattle ; 
 
 ' Now moody and sad, now unthinking and gay, 
 
 To all points of the compass I veer in a day. 
 
 Henry Kirke White. 
 
 415. CHARITIES. Trifling 
 
 The blessings which the poor and weak can scatter 
 Have their own season. ’Tis a little thing 
 To give a cup of water ; yet its draught 
 Of cool refreshment, drain’d by fever’d lips, 
 
 May give a shock of pleasure to the frame 
 More exquisite than when nectarian juices 
 Renew the life of joy in happiest hours. 
 
 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, ’twill fall 
 
 Like choicest music ; fill the glazing eye 
 
 With gentle tears; relax the knotted hand 
 
 To know the bonds of fellowship again. — Talfoui'd. 
 
 416. CHARITY : its impulses to be obeyed. 
 
 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. 
 
 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. 
 
 R. M. Milnes . 
 
 417. CHARITY: its rewards. 
 
 Charity ever 
 
 Finds in the act reward, and needs no trumpet 
 In the receiver.— Beaumont and Fletcher. 
 
 Great minds, like Heaven, are pleased in doing good, 
 Though the ungrateful subjects of their favours 
 Are barren in return.— Rowe. 
 
 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 Heaven, and pull a blessing on thee. 
 
 j Rowe. 
 
 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. 
 
 The secret pleasure of a generous act 
 Is the great mind’s great bribe.— Dryden. 
 
 The liberal are secure alone ; 
 
 For what we frankly give, for ever is our own. 
 
 Granville. 
 
 418. CHARITY : must not be confined to gifts of 
 
 money. 
 
 Were we as rich in charity of deed 
 As gold, what rock would bloom not with the seed ? 
 We give our alms and cry, ‘ What can we more?’ 
 One hour of time were worth a load of ore ! 
 
 Give to the ignorant our own wisdom ! give 
 Sorrow our comfort ! lend to those who live 
 In crime the counsels of our virtue ! share 
 With souls our souls, and Satan shall despair ! 
 
 Bnhver Lytton. 
 
CHARITY 
 
 So 
 
 CHEERFULNESS 
 
 419. CHARITY : our duty. 
 
 Wise Plato said the world with men was stored 
 That succour each to other might afford. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 The primal duties shine aloft, like stars; 
 
 The charities that soothe, and heal, and bless, 
 Are scatter’d at the feet of man, like flowers. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 420. CHARITY : the noblest employment. 
 
 The drying up a single tear has more 
 Of honest fame, than shedding seas of gore. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 -Amid all life’s quests 
 
 There seems but worthy one—to do men good. 
 
 Bailey. 
 
 421. CHARITY : the soul of virtue. 
 
 Only add 
 
 Deeds to thy knowledge answerable ; add faith, 
 Add virtue, patience, temperance ; add love, 
 
 By name to come call’d charity,—the soul 
 Of all the rest.— Milton. 
 
 ’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 welcomed ; it begins the rest, 
 
 And sets them all in order.— Middleton. 
 
 422. CHARITY. Unbounded 
 
 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 sense, 
 In one close system of benevolence : 
 
 Plappier as kinder, in whate’er degree 
 
 And height of bliss but height of charity.— Pope. 
 
 423. CHARITY. Unostentatious 
 
 Let humble Allen, with an awkward shame, 
 Do good by stealth, and blush to find it fame. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 424. CHASTISEMENT. Views of 
 
 Rabia, sick upon her bed, 
 
 By two saints was visited, 
 
 Holy Malik, Hassan wise,— 
 
 Men of mark in Moslem eyes. 
 
 Hassan says, ‘ Whose prayer is pure 
 Will God’s chastisements endure.’ 
 
 Malik from a deeper sense 
 Utter’d his experience : 
 
 ‘ He who loves his Master’s choice 
 Will in chastisement rejoice.’ 
 
 Rabia saw some selfish will 
 In their maxims lingering still, 
 
 And replied, ‘ O men of grace ! 
 
 He who sees his Master’s face 
 
 Will not in his prayer recall 
 
 That he is chastised at all.’— Oriental. 
 
 425. CHASTITY. Defence of 
 
 So dear to heaven is saintly chastity 
 That when a soul is found sincerely so, 
 
 A thousand liv’ried angels lacquey her, 
 Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 426. CHASTITY. Maxim of 
 
 While thirst of praise and vain desire of fame 
 In ev’ry age is ev’ry woman’s aim ; 
 
 With courtship pleased, of silly trifles proud, 
 
 Fond of a train, and happy in a crowd ; 
 
 On each proud fop bestowing some kind glance, 
 Each conquest owing to some loose advance ; 
 While vain coquettes affect to be pursued, 
 
 And think they’re virtuous, if not grossly lewd ; 
 Let this great maxim be my virtue’s guide : 
 
 In part she is to blame who has been tried, 
 
 He comes too near who comes to be denied. 
 
 Lady Montagu. 
 
 427. CHEERFULNESS : encouraged. 
 
 Life, believe, is not a dream 
 So dark as sages say ; 
 
 Oft a little morning rain 
 Foretells a pleasant day. 
 
 Sometimes there are clouds of gloom, 
 
 But these are transient all; 
 
 If the shower will make the roses bloom, 
 
 Oh why lament its fall ? 
 
 Rapidly, merrily, 
 
 Life’s sunny hours flit by, 
 
 Gratefully, cheerily, 
 
 Enjoy them as they fly ! 
 
 What though Death at times steps in, 
 
 And calls our best away ? 
 
 What though sorrow seems to win, 
 
 O’er hope, a heavy sway ? 
 
 Yet hope again elastic springs, 
 
 Unconquer’d, though she fell ; 
 
CHEERFULNESS 
 
 81 
 
 CHEERFULNESS 
 
 Still buoyant are her golden wings, 
 
 Still strong to bear us well. 
 
 Manfully, fearlessly, 
 
 The day of trial bear, 
 
 For gloriously, victoriously, 
 
 Can courage quell despair ! 
 
 Charlotte Bronte. 
 
 "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 Jerrold's Magazine. 
 
 428. CHEERFULNESS : its value. 
 
 Cheerful looks make every dish a feast, 
 
 And ’tis that crowns a welcome.— Massinger. 
 
 There’s many a trouble 
 Would break like a bubble, 
 
 And into the waters of Lethe depart, 
 
 Did not we rehearse it, 
 
 And tenderly nurse it, 
 
 And give it a permanent place in the heart. 
 
 There’s many a sorrow 
 Would vanish to-morrow, 
 
 Were we not unwilling to furnish the wings; 
 
 So sadly intruding 
 And quietly brooding, 
 
 It hatches out all sorts of horrible things. 
 
 How welcome the seeming 
 Of looks that are beaming, 
 
 Whether one’s wealthy or whether one’s poor; 
 Eyes bright as a berry, 
 
 Cheeks red as a cherry, 
 
 The groan and the curse and the heartache can 
 cure. 
 
 Resolved to be merry, 
 
 All worry to ferry 
 
 Across the famed waters that bid us forget, 
 
 And no longer fearful, 
 
 But happy and cheerful, 
 
 W 7 e feel life has much that’s worth living for yet. 
 
 Georgiana C. Clark. 
 
 429. CHEERFULNESS : its wisdom. 
 
 There is many a rest on the road of life, 
 
 If we would only stop to take it; 
 
 And many a tone from the better land, 
 
 If the querulous heart would wake it. 
 
 To the sunny soul that is full of hope, 
 
 And whose beautiful trust ne’er faileth, 
 
 The grass is green and the flowers are bright, 
 Though the wintry storm prevaileth. 
 
 Better to hope, though the clouds hang low, 
 
 And to keep the eyes still lifted ; 
 
 For the sweet blue sky will soon peep through, 
 When the ominous clouds are rifted ; 
 
 There was never a night without a day, 
 
 Nor an evening without a morning ; 
 
 And the darkest hour, the proverb goes, 
 
 Is the hour before the dawning. 
 
 There is many a gem in the path of life, 
 
 Which we pass in our idle pleasure, 
 
 That is richer far than a jewell’d crown, 
 
 Or the miser’s hoarded treasure ; 
 
 It may be the love of a little child, 
 
 Or a mother’s prayer to heaven, 
 
 Or only a beggar’s grateful thanks, 
 
 For a cup of water given. 
 
 Better to weave in the web of life 
 A bright and golden filling, 
 
 And to do God’s will with a ready heart, 
 
 And hands that are swift and willing, 
 
 Than to snap the delicate silver threads 
 Of curious lives asunder ; 
 
 And then blame heaven for the tangled ends, 
 
 And sit, and grieve, and wonder. 
 
 430. CHEERFULNESS. Power of 
 
 The stoutest armour of defence is that which is 
 within the bosom, 
 
 And the weapon that no enemy can parry is a bold 
 and cheerful spirit : 
 
 Catapults in old war worked liked Titans, crushing 
 foes with rocks ; 
 
 So doth a strong-springed heart throw back every 
 load on its assailants. — Tapper. 
 
 431. CHEERFULNESS. Psalm of 
 
 I MOURN no more my vanish’d years : 
 Beneath a tender rain, 
 
 An April rain of smiles and tears, 
 
 My heart is young again. 
 
 The west winds blow, and singing low 
 I hear the glad streams run ; 
 
 The windows of my soul I throw 
 Wide open to the sun.' 
 
 No longer forward, nor behind, 
 
 I look in hope and fear : 
 
 But grateful, take the good I find, 
 
 The best of now, and here. 
 
 I plough no more a desert land 
 For harvest, weed and tare ; 
 
 The manna dropping from God’s hand 
 Rebukes my painful care. 
 
 6 
 
CHILD 
 
 82 
 
 CHILD 
 
 I break my pilgrim staff, I lay 
 Aside the toiling oar, 
 
 The angel sought so far away 
 I welcome at my door. 
 
 The airs of spring may never play 
 Among the ripening corn, 
 
 Nor freshness of the flowers of May 
 Blow through the autumn morn ; 
 
 Yet shall the blue-eyed gentian look 
 Through fringed lids to heaven, 
 
 And the pale aster in the brook 
 Shall see its image given ; 
 
 The woods shall wear their robes of praise, 
 The south winds softly sigh, 
 
 And sweet calm days in golden haze 
 Melt down the amber sky. 
 
 Not less shall manly deed and word 
 Rebuke an age of wrong : 
 
 The graven flowers that wreathe the sword 
 Make not the blade less strong. 
 
 Enough that blessings undeserved 
 Have mark’d my erring track, 
 
 That wheresoe’er my feet have swerved, 
 His chast’ning turn’d me back ; 
 
 That more and more a Providence 
 Of love is understood, 
 
 Making the springs of time and sense 
 Sweet with eternal good ; 
 
 That death seems but a cover’d way, 
 Which opens into light, 
 
 Wherein no blinded child can stray 
 Beyond the Father’s sight; 
 
 That care and trial seem at last, 
 
 Through memory’s sunset air, 
 
 Like mountain ranges overpast 
 In purple distance fair ; 
 
 That all the jarring notes of life 
 Seem blending in a psalm, 
 
 And all the angles of its strife 
 Slow rounding into calm. 
 
 And so the shadows fall apart, 
 
 And so the west winds play : 
 
 And all the windows of my heart 
 I open to this day. — Whittier. 
 
 432. CHILD. Burying a 
 
 J Amy died— 
 
 Dear little Amy ! when you talk of her, 
 
 Say, she is gone to heaven. 
 
 2nd Child. They planted her— 
 
 Will she come up next year? 
 
 1 st Child. No, not so soon ; 
 
 But some day God will call her to come up, 
 And then she will. Papa knows everything ; 
 He said she would, before they planted her. 
 
 Jean Ingelow. 
 
 433. CHILD. Death of a 
 
 When the morning, half in shadow, 
 
 Ran along the hill and meadow, 
 
 And, with milk-white fingers, parted 
 Crimson roses, golden-hearted ; 
 
 Opening over ruins hoary 
 Every purple morning-glory, 
 
 And outshaking from the bushes 
 Singing larks and pleasant thrushes : 
 
 That’s the time our little baby— 
 
 Stray’d from paradise it may be— 
 
 Came with eyes like heaven above her ; 
 Oh, we could not choose but love her ! 
 
 Not enough of earth for sinning, 
 
 Always gentle, always winning, 
 
 Never needing our reproving, 
 
 Ever lovely, ever loving ; 
 
 Starry eyes, and sunset tresses, 
 
 White arms, made for light caresses, 
 
 Lips, that knew no word of doubting, 
 Often kissing, never pouting ; 
 
 Beauty, even in completeness, 
 
 Over-full of childish sweetness : 
 
 That’s the way our little baby, 
 
 Far too pure for earth, it may be, 
 
 Seem’d to us, who, while about her, 
 Deem’d we could not do without her. 
 
 When the morning, half in shadow, 
 
 Ran along the hill and meadow, 
 
 And, with milk-white fingers, parted 
 Crimson roses, golden-hearted ; 
 
 Opening over ruins hoary 
 Every purple morning-glory, 
 
 And outshaking from the bushes, 
 
 Singing larks and pleasant thrushes : 
 That’s the time our little baby, 
 
 Pining here for heaven, it may be, 
 
 Turning from our bitter weeping, 
 
 Closed her eyes as when in sleeping, 
 
 And her white hands on her bosom 
 Folded, like a summer blossom. 
 
 Now, the litter she doth lie on, 
 
 Strew’d with roses, bear to Zion ; 
 
 Go, as past a pleasant meadow, 
 
 Through the valley of the shadow. 
 
CHILD 
 
 83 
 
 CHILDREN 
 
 Take her softly, holy angels, 
 
 Past the ranks of God’s evangels, 
 
 Past the saints and martyrs holy, 
 
 To the Earth-Born meek and lowly : 
 
 We would have our precious blossom 
 Softly laid in Jesus’ bosom ! 
 
 434. CHILD. Lesson for a 
 
 My fairest child, I have no song to give you ; 
 
 No lark could pipe to skies so dull and grey ; 
 Yet, ere we part, one lesson I can leave you, 
 
 For every day. 
 
 % 
 
 Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever ; 
 Do noble things, not dream them, all day long; 
 And so make life, death, and that vast for ever 
 One grand, sweet song ! 
 
 Charles Kingsley. 
 
 435. CHILD. My Lost 
 
 I CANNOT make him dead ! 
 
 His fair sunshiny head 
 Is ever bounding round my study chair; 
 
 Yet when my eyes, now dim 
 With tears, I turn to him, 
 
 The vision vanishes,—he is not there ! 
 
 I walk my parlour floor, 
 
 And, through the open door, 
 
 I hear a footfall on the chamber stair ! 
 
 I’m stepping toward the hall 
 To give the boy a call; 
 
 And then bethink me that—he is not there ! 
 
 I thread the crowded street; 
 
 A satchell’d lad I meet, 
 
 With the same beaming eyes and colour’d hair; 
 And, as he’s running by, 
 
 Follow him with my eye, 
 
 Scarcely believing that—he is not there ! 
 
 I know his face is hid 
 Under the coffin lid ; 
 
 Closed are his eyes ; cold is his forehead fair ; 
 
 My hand that marble felt ; 
 
 O’er it in prayer I knelt; 
 
 Yet my heart whispers that—he is not there ! 
 
 Not there ! Where, then, is he? 
 
 The form I used to see 
 Was but the raiment that be used to wear. 
 
 The grave, that now doth press 
 Upon that cast-off dress, 
 
 Is but his wardrobe lock’d ;—he is not there ! 
 
 He lives ! In all the past 
 He lives ; nor, to the last, 
 
 Of seeing him again will I despair ; 
 
 In dreams I see him now ; 
 
 And, on his angel brow, 
 
 I see it written, ‘ Thou shalt see me there!' 
 
 Yes, we all live to God ! 
 
 Father, Thy chastening rod 
 So help us, Thine afflicted ones, to bear, 
 
 That in the spirit-land, 
 
 Meeting at Thy right hand, 
 
 ’Twill be our heaven to find that—he is there. 
 
 Pierpont. 
 
 436. CHILDHOOD. Beauty of 
 
 Beautiful, beautiful childhood ! with a joy 
 That like a robe is palpable, and flung 
 Out by your ev’ry motion ! delicate bud 
 Of the immortal flower that will unfold 
 And come to its maturity in heaven ! 
 
 I weep your earthly glory. ’Tis a light 
 Lent to the new-born spirit, that goes out 
 With the first idle wind. It is the leaf 
 Fresh flung upon the river, that will dance 
 Upon the wave that stealeth out its life, 
 
 Then sink of its own heaviness. The face 
 Of the delightful earth will to your eye 
 Grow dim ; the fragrance of the many flowers 
 Be noticed not, and the beguiling voice 
 Of nature in her gentlenes’s will be 
 To manhood’s senseless ear inaudible. — Willis. 
 
 437. CHILDHOOD. Mystery of 
 
 ’Tis aye a solemn thing to me 
 
 To look upon a babe that sleeps— 
 
 Wearing in its spirit-deeps 
 The unrevealed mystery 
 
 Of its Adam’s taint and woe, 
 
 Which, when they revealed lie, 
 
 Will not let it slumber so.— E.B. Brcnvning. 
 
 438. CHILDREN. Benefit of 
 
 A dreary place would be this earth 
 Were there no little people in it; 
 
 The song of life would lose its mirth 
 Were there no children to begin it. 
 
 No little forms, like buds, to grow, 
 
 And make the admiring heart surrender ; 
 
 No little hands on breast and brow, 
 
 To keep the thrilling love-chords tender. 
 
 No rosy boys, at wintry morn, 
 
 With satchels to the school-house hasting ; 
 
 No merry shouts as home they rush, 
 
 No precious morsel for their tasting. 
 
 Tall, grave, grown people at the door, 
 
 Tall, grave, grown people at the table; 
 
CHILDREN 
 
 34 
 
 CHILDREN 
 
 
 The men on business all intent, 
 
 The dames lugubrious as they’re able ; 
 
 The sterner souls would get more stern, 
 
 Unfeeling natures more inhuman, 
 
 And man to stoic coldness turn, 
 
 And woman would be less than woman: 
 
 Life’s song, indeed, would lose its charm, 
 
 Were there no babies to begin it; 
 
 A doleful place this world would be, 
 
 Were there no little people in it. 
 
 439. CHILDREN. Death and the 
 
 There is a Reaper, whose name is Death, 
 
 And, with his sickle keen, 
 
 He reaps the bearded grain at a breath, 
 
 And the flowers that grow between. 
 
 ‘ Shall I have nought that is fair?’ saith he ; 
 
 ‘ Have nought but the bearded grain ? 
 
 Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me, 
 I will give them all back again.’ 
 
 He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes, 
 
 He kiss’d their drooping leaves ; 
 
 It was for the Lord of Paradise 
 He bound them in his sheaves. 
 
 ‘ My Lord hath need of these flow’rets gay,’ 
 
 The Reaper said, and smiled ; 
 
 ‘ Dear tokens of the earth are they, 
 
 Where He was once a child. 
 
 ‘ They shall all bloom in fields of light, 
 Transplanted by my care ; 
 
 And saints upon their garments white 
 These sacred blossoms wear.’ 
 
 And the mother gave, in tears and pain, 
 
 The flowers she most did love ; 
 
 She knew she should find them all again 
 In the fields of light above. 
 
 Oh, not in cruelty, not in wrath, 
 
 The Reaper came that day ; 
 
 ’Twas an angel visited the green earth, 
 
 And took the flowers away.— Longfellow. 
 
 440. CHILDREN : how they are to be trained. 
 
 When the father is too fondly kind, 
 
 Such seed he sows, such harvest shall he find. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 I had a garden and a little child, 
 
 And in them both there grew so many weeds, 
 
 So very rank and tall they grew, and wild, 
 
 I saw no place to plant the goodly seeds. 
 
 And many hours I spent in weary toil, 
 
 Mid burning suns and storms of childish tears, 
 
 To root the weed from out my garden’s soil, 
 
 Which to the tiller’s eye so vile appears. 
 
 Yet day by day my care seem’d all for nought; 
 
 In despite of my toil still grew the weeds ; 
 
 And the free soil for which my hand had sought 
 Nowhere I found to plant the goodly seeds. 
 
 A kindly neighbour saw me o’er the wall, 
 
 And ask’d me why I toil’d so long for nought; 
 
 ‘ For thus,’ he said, ‘ thou wilt not work their fall, 
 Nor gain the end for which thou long hast wrought. 
 
 ‘ Put in thy plough, then plant the clover seeds, 
 
 And mark me if I speak thee not the truth : 
 
 The seeds will grow and choke the hateful weeds 
 To which thy tireless hand hath shown no ruth.’ 
 
 Ah, kindly neighbour, o’er the garden wall, 
 
 Thou’st taught me what I had much need to 
 know, 
 
 To fret not at the weeds which grow so tall. 
 
 But haste with liberal hand my seed to sow. 
 
 I sought the heart-soil of my little child, 
 
 No longer now to rudely pull the weeds ; 
 
 With God’s own truth I plough’d the fruitless wild, 
 In faith and love I thickly sow’d the seeds. 
 
 And now my garden yields me fragrance sweet; 
 
 From laden boughs I pluck the golden fruit; 
 
 My sickle now may find a harvest meet, 
 
 There scattering weeds find scarcely space for root. 
 
 441. CHILDREN : not ‘lent to us.’ 
 
 ‘ God lent him and takes him,’ you sigh ; 
 
 Nay, there let me break with your pain : 
 
 God’s gen’rous in giving, say I, 
 
 And the thing which He gives, I deny 
 That He ever can take back again. 
 
 He is ours and for ever ! Believe, 
 
 O father ! O mother ! look back 
 To the first love’s assurance! To give 
 Means with God, not to tempt or deceive 
 With a cup thrust in Benjamin’s sack. 
 
 He gives what He gives. Be content! 
 
 He resumes nothing given, be sure ! 
 
 God lend ? Where the usurers lent 
 In His temple, indignant He went 
 And scourged away all those impure. 
 
 He lends not, but gives to the end, 
 
 As He loves to the end ! If it seem 
 That He draws back a gift, comprehend 
 ’Tis to add to it rather, amend, 
 
 And finish it up to your dream, 
 
CHILDREN 
 
 85 
 
 CHILDREN 
 
 444. CHILDREN. Thankless 
 
 Or keep, as a mother will toys 
 
 Too costly, though given by herself,— 
 
 Till the room shall be stiller from noise, 
 
 And the children more fit for such joys, 
 
 Kept over their heads on the shelf. 
 
 So look up, friends ! You, who indeed 
 Have possess’d in your house a sweet piece 
 Of the heaven which men strive for, must need 
 Be more earnest than others are: speed 
 Where they loiter, persist when they cease. 
 
 You know how one angel smiles there : 
 
 Then weep not. ’Tis easy for you 
 To be drawn by a single gold hair 
 Of that curl, from earth’s storm and despair, 
 
 To the safe place above us. Adieu! 
 
 E. B. Browning. 
 
 442. CHILDREN. Pleasure of 
 
 Ah ! what would the world be to us 
 If the children were no more? 
 
 We should dread the desert behind us 
 Worse than the dark before. 
 
 What the leaves are to the forest, 
 
 With light and air for food, 
 
 Ere their sweet and tender juices 
 Have been harden’d into wood,— 
 
 That to the world are children ; 
 
 Through them it feels the glow 
 Of a brighter and sunnier climate 
 Than reaches the trunks below. 
 
 Come to me, O ye children ! 
 
 And whisper in my ear 
 What the birds and the winds are singing 
 In your sunny atmosphere. 
 
 For what are all our contrivings, 
 
 And the wisdom of our books, 
 
 When compared with your caresses, 
 
 And the gladness of your looks ? 
 
 Ye are better than all the ballads 
 That ever were sung or said; 
 
 For ye are living poems, 
 
 And all the rest are dead.— Longfellow. 
 
 443 • CHILDREN. Teaching 
 
 Delightful task ! to rear the te.nder 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. 
 
 How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is, 
 
 To have a thankless child.— Shakespeare. 
 
 445. CHILDREN: their death not to be deplored. 
 
 A BUTTERFLY bask’d on an infant’s grave 
 Where a lily had chanced to grow ; 
 
 ‘ Why art thou here with thy gaudy dye ? 
 
 Where she of the bright and sparkling eye 
 Must sleep in the church-yard low.’ 
 
 Then it lightly soar’d through the sunny air, 
 
 And spoke from its shining track : 
 
 ‘ I was a worm till I won my wings, 
 
 And she whom thou mourn’st, like a seraph sings ; 
 Wouldst thou call the blest one back ? ’ 
 
 Mrs Sigourney. 
 
 446. CHILDREN : their griefs. 
 
 The tear down childhood’s cheek that flows 
 
 Is like the dew-drop on the rose ; 
 
 When next the summer breeze comes by, 
 
 And waves the bush, the flower is dry.— Scott. 
 
 447. CHILDREN : their hopes. 
 
 Self-flatter’d, unexperienced, high in hope, 
 When young, with sanguine cheer, and streamers gay, 
 We cut our cable, launch into the world, 
 
 And fondly dream each wind and star our friend. 
 
 Young. 
 
 448. CHILDREN. Trust of 
 
 ‘Now I lay me ’—say it, darling ; 
 
 ‘ Lay me,’ lisp’d the tiny lips 
 
 Of my daughter, kneeling, bending 
 O’er her folded finger-tips. 
 
 ‘ Down to sleep ’—‘ to sleep,’ she murmur’d, 
 And the curly head droop’d low ; 
 
 ‘I pray the Lord,’ I gently added, 
 
 ‘ You can say it all, I know.’ 
 
 ‘ Pray the Lord ’—the words came faintly, 
 Fainter still—‘ My soul to keep,’ 
 
 Then the tired head fairly nodded, 
 
 And the child was fast asleep. 
 
 But the dewy eyes half open’d 
 When I clasp’d her to my breast, 
 
 And the dear voice softly whisper’d, 
 
 ‘ Mamma, God knows all the re^t.’ 
 
 Oh, the trusting, sweet confiding 
 Of the child-heart ! Would that I 
 
 Thus might trust my Heavenly Father, 
 
 He who hears my feeblest cry. 
 
CHILDREN 
 
 86 
 
 CHIVALRY 
 
 449. CHILDREN : why Christ takes them. 
 
 The flock stood waiting by the rapid river, 
 
 And would not cross, 
 
 Although the shepherd kindly call d them thither, 
 
 And banks of moss, 
 
 And fields of green, and verdant hills surrounded 
 The further shore ; 
 
 The danger still their narrow vision bounded 
 Of crossing o’er. 
 
 He stretch’d his kindly arms, and gently call’d them— 
 They would not heed ; 
 
 The deep, broad river’s rapid stream appall d them, 
 Though pleasant mead 
 
 And mountain fair beyond the darkling rivei 
 Rose to their view, 
 
 And in the distance, bright, unfading ever, 
 
 Were pastures new 
 
 The shepherd took a lamb, and safely bore it, 
 
 Within his arms 
 
 To where the pastures brightly gleam’d before it, 
 
 And all alarms 
 
 Were hush’d. The mother heard its voice of pleading, 
 And, crossing o’er, 
 
 The flock behind her follow’d in her leading, 
 
 Unto the shore. 
 
 O stricken hearts, all torn with grief and bleeding, 
 
 A Saviour’s voice 
 
 Ye would not hear, nor follow in His leading 
 Of your own choice. 
 
 So He takes your lambs into His safe keeping, 
 
 That eyes all dim 
 
 And dark with sorrow’s clouds, and sad with weeping, 
 May look to Him, 
 
 And see beyond the darkly rolling river, 
 
 Those gone before, 
 
 And to the fields with verdure green for ever 
 
 Cross safely o’er.— E. N. Gunniron. 
 
 450. CHILDREN’S OFFERING. The 
 
 The wise may bring their learning, 
 
 The rich may bring their wealth, 
 
 And some may bring their greatness, 
 
 And some bring strength and health. 
 
 We, too, would bring our treasures 
 To offer to the King ; 
 
 We have no wealth or learning— 
 
 What shall we children bring? 
 
 We’ll bring Him hearts that love Him ; 
 We’ll bring Him thankful praise, 
 
 And young souls meekly striving 
 To walk in holy ways. 
 
 And the e shall be the treasures 
 We offer to the King ; 
 
 And these are gifts that even 
 The poorest child may bring. 
 
 We’ll brirg the little duties 
 We have to do each day ; 
 
 We’ll try our best to please Him 
 At home, at school, at play. 
 
 And better are these treasures 
 To offer to our King 
 Than richest gifts without them ; 
 
 Yet these a child may bring. 
 
 Now glory to the Father, 
 
 And glory ever be 
 To Christ, the loving Saviour, 
 
 Who lived, a child, like me ; 
 
 And glory to the Spirit : 
 
 O Three in One—our King— 
 
 Accept, ’mid angels’ praises, 
 
 The praise a child may bring.— C. A. 
 
 451. CHIVALRY. 
 
 ’Tis said ‘ The age of chivalry is past, 
 
 That man’s nobility is waning fast, 
 
 That hearts have colder grown, and much more tarn 
 That they regard not love, nor noble fame. 
 
 But these are puny critics ! vain and weak ! 
 
 Who think not, care not, only that they speak 
 And the world hear them, and that shallow men 
 Shall echo their weak sentiments again. 
 
 F r ’tis not so ! with each revolving age 
 Man’s custom changes, and on history’s page 
 ’Tis so recorded, and if man not now 
 Go cased in steel with helmet on his brow, 
 
 And wear a ribbon from his lady fair, 
 
 And joust in tournament at court and fair, 
 
 ’Tis not that he is weaker, or less brave, 
 
 Less of the courtier, or more of the knave, 
 
 Less true in love, less noble in his mind, 
 
 Less strong of will, less of the man, mankind, 
 
 Less warlike when aroused by taunt or wrong. 
 
 Still the same creature ; noble, true, and strong ; 
 Temper’d by wisdom he has milder grown— 
 Learn’d of control what was to them unknown. 
 They strove with others on the bloody field, 
 Bravely and well—at death alone would yield ; 
 We with ourselves must struggle, and the strife 
 Long is and bitter, ending but with life ; 
 
 But if we win, ours is the nobler fame, 
 
 Better than earthly titles, land, or name 
 Rest, peace, and happiness with God above, 
 
 In that fair land where all is light and love. 
 
CHOICE 
 
 37 
 
 CHRIST 
 
 452. CHOICE. 
 
 A wise man likes that best, that is itself; 
 
 Not that which only seems, though it look fairer. 
 
 Middleton . 
 
 So much to win, so much to lose, 
 
 No marvel that I fear to choose.— Miss Landon. 
 
 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; 
 Remember, One, a judge of righteous men, 
 
 Swore to spare Sodom, if she held but ten ! 
 
 Use well the freedom which thy Master gave, 
 (Think’st thou that Heaven can tolerate a slave ?) 
 And He who made thee to be just and true 
 Will bless thee, love thee,—ay, respect thee too ! 
 
 Holmes. 
 
 453 > CHRIST. Alone with 
 
 Alone with Thee ! alone with Thee ! 
 
 O Friend Divine ! 
 
 Thou Friend of friends, to me most dear, 
 
 Though all unseen, I feel Thee near ; 
 
 And, with the love that knows no fear, 
 
 I call Thee mine. 
 
 Alone with Thee ! alone with Thee ! 
 
 Now through my breast 
 There steals a breath like breath of balm 
 That healing brings and holy calm, 
 
 That soothes like chanted song or psalm. 
 
 And makes me blest. 
 
 Alone with Thee ! alone with thee ! 
 
 Thy grace more sweet 
 Than music in the twilight still, 
 
 Than airs that groves of spices fill, 
 
 More fresh than dews on Hermon’s hill, 
 
 My soul doth greet. 
 
 Alone with Thee ! alone with Thee ! 
 
 In Thy pure light 
 
 The splendid pomps and shows of time, 
 
 The tempting steeps that pride would climb, 
 
 The peaks where glory rests sublime. 
 
 Pale on my sight. 
 
 Alone with Thee ! alone with Thee! 
 
 My soften’d heart 
 Floats on the flood of love Divine, 
 
 Feels all its wishes drown’d in Thine, 
 
 Content that every good is mine 
 Thou canst impart. 
 
 Alone with Thee! alone with Thee ! 
 
 I want no more 
 
 To make my earthly bliss complete, 
 
 Than oft my Lord unseen to meet; 
 
 For sight I wait till tread my feet 
 Yon glistering shore. 
 
 Alone with Thee! alone with Thee ! 
 
 There not alone, 
 
 But with all saints, the mighty throng, 
 
 My soul unfetter’d, pure, and strong, 
 
 Her high communings shall prolong 
 Before Thy throne. —Ray Palmer. 
 
 454 - CHRIST. Clinging to 
 
 O Holy Saviour, Friend unseen, 
 
 Since on Thine arm Thou bid’st me lean, 
 Help me throughout life’s varying scene 
 By faith to cling to Thee. 
 
 Blest with this fellowship Divine, 
 
 Take what Thou wilt, I’ll ne’er repine ; 
 E’en as the branches to the vine, 
 
 My soul would cling to Thee. 
 
 Far from her home, fatigued, oppress’d, 
 Here she has found her place of rest; 
 
 An exile still, yet not unbless’d, 
 
 While she can cling to Thee. 
 
 Without a murmur I dismiss 
 My former dreams of earthly bliss ; 
 
 My joy, my consolation this, 
 
 Each hour to cling to Thee. 
 
 What though the world unfaithful prove, 
 And earthly friends and joys remove ; 
 With sure and certain hope of love, 
 
 Still would I cling to Thee. 
 
 Oft when I seem to tread alone 
 
 Some barren waste, with thorns o’ergrown. 
 
 Thy voice of love, in gentle tone, 
 
 Whispers ‘ Still cling to Me.’ 
 
 Though faith and hope may oft be tried, 
 
 I ask not, need not aught beside : 
 
 How safe, how calm, how satisfied, 
 
 The soul that clings to Thee ! 
 
 They fear not Satan, nor the grave,— 
 
 They feel Thee near and strong to save ; 
 Nor dread to cross e’en Jordan’s wave, 
 Because they cling to Thee. 
 
 Bless’d is my lot, whate’er befall ; 
 
 What can disturb me, who appal, 
 
 While as my Strength, my Rock, my All, 
 Saviour, I cling to Thee.— Elliott. 
 
CHRIST 
 
 83 
 
 CHRIST 
 
 455. CHRIST. Confessing 
 
 To tell the Saviour all my wants, 
 
 How pleasing is the task ! 
 
 Nor less to praise Him when He grants 
 Beyond what I can ask. 
 
 My labouring spirit vainly seeks 
 To tell but half the joy ; 
 
 With how much tenderness He speaks, 
 And helps me to reply. 
 
 Nor were it wise, nor should I choose, 
 Such secrets to declare : 
 
 Like precious wines, their tastes they lose, 
 Exposed to open air. 
 
 But this with boldness I proclaim, 
 
 Nor care if thousands hear,— 
 
 Sweet is the ointment of His name ; 
 
 Nor life is half so dear. 
 
 And can you frown, my former friends, 
 Who knew what once I was, 
 
 And blame the song that thus commends 
 The Man who bore the cross ? 
 
 Trust me, I draw the likeness true, 
 
 And not as fancy paints ; 
 
 Such honour may He give to you ! 
 
 For such have all His saints.— Cowper. 
 
 456. CHRIST : for whom He suffered. 
 
 Wherefore weep we over Jesus, 
 
 O’er His death and bitter smart? 
 
 Weep we rather that He sees us 
 Unconvinced and hard of heart; 
 
 For His soul was never tainted 
 With the smallest spot or stain : 
 
 ’Twas for us He was acquainted 
 With such depths of grief and pain. 
 
 Oh ! what profits it with groaning 
 Underneath His cross to stand? 
 
 Oh! what profits our bemoaning 
 His pale brow and bleeding hand ? 
 
 Wherefore gaze on Him expiring, 
 
 Rail’d at, pierced, and crucified, 
 
 Whilst we think not of inquiring, 
 Wherefore, and for whom He died? 
 
 If no sin could be discover’d 
 In the pure and spotless Lord, 
 
 If the cruel death He suffer’d 
 Is sin’s just and meet reward : 
 
 Then it must have been for others 
 That the Lord on Calvary bled, 
 
 And the guilt have been a brother’s, 
 Which was laid upon His head. 
 
 And for whom hath He contended 
 In a strife so strange and new ? 
 
 And for whom to hell descended ? 
 
 Brothers ! ’twas for me and you! 
 
 Now you see that He was reaping 
 Punishment for us alone ; 
 
 And we have great cause for weeping, 
 
 Not for His guilt, but our own. 
 
 If we then make full confession 
 Join’d with penitence and prayer, 
 
 If we see our own transgression 
 In the punishment He bare, 
 
 If we mourn with true repentance, 
 
 We shall hear the Saviour say, 
 
 ‘ Fear not : I have borne your sentence ; 
 Wipe your bitter tears away.’ 
 
 Spitta, tr. by Massie. 
 
 457. CHRIST : for whom He suffered. 
 
 O head, so full of bruises ! 
 
 Brow, that its life-blood loses ! 
 
 O great humility ! 
 
 Across His face are flying 
 The shadows of the dying : 
 
 ’Twas suffer’d all for me ! 
 
 O back, by scourges ploughed ! 
 
 O soul, by sorrow bowed 
 Upon the accursed tree ! 
 
 He hears the bitter scorning ; 
 
 ’Tis night, without a dawning : 
 
 ’Twas suffer’d all for me ! 
 
 Eye, that in darkness sinketh ? 
 
 Lip, that the red cup drinketh ! 
 
 Hands, bound to misery ! 
 
 See, from His feet forth streameth 
 The fountain that redeemeth ! 
 
 ’Twas suffer’d all for me ! 
 
 And now He speaks : oh hearken, 
 
 While clouds all nature darken ! 
 
 1 Lama Sabacthani ! ’ 
 
 His head is bent, and droopeth, 
 
 To such a death He stoopeth ! 
 
 ’Twas suffer’d all for me !— Stammers. 
 
 458. CHRIST: His death. 
 
 O’erwhelm’d in depths of woe, 
 
 Upon the tree of scorn, 
 
 Hangs the Redeemer of mankind, 
 
 With racking anguish torn. 
 
 See ! how the nails those hands 
 And feet so tender rend! 
 
 See ! down His face, and neck, and breast, 
 His sacred blood descend. 
 
CHRIST 
 
 89 
 
 CHRIST 
 
 Hark ! with what awful cry 
 His spirit takes its flight; 
 
 That cry,—it pierced His Mother’s heart, 
 
 And whelm’d her soul in night. 
 
 Earth hears, and to its base 
 Rocks wildly to and fro ; 
 
 Tombs burst; seas, rivers, mountains quake : 
 The veil is rent in two. 
 
 The sun withdraws his light; 
 
 The midday heavens grow pale ; 
 
 The moon, the stars, the universe, 
 
 Their Maker’s death bewail. 
 
 Shall man alone be mute ? 
 
 Come, youth and hoary hairs ! 
 
 Come, rich and poor ! come, all mankind ! 
 
 P d bathe those feet in tears. 
 
 Come ! fall before His Cross, 
 
 Who shed for us His blood ; 
 
 Who died the victim of pure love, 
 
 To make us sons of God. 
 
 Jesu, all praise to Thee, 
 
 Our joy and endless rest! 
 
 Be Thou our guide while pilgrims here, 
 
 Our crown amid the blest. 
 
 Tr. from the Latin hy E. Casio all. 
 
 459. CHRIST: His death. 
 
 O world ! behold upon the tree 
 Thy Life is hanging now for thee, 
 
 Thy Saviour yields His dying breath ; 
 
 The mighty Prince of glory now 
 For thee doth unresisting bow 
 
 To cruel stripes, to scorn and death. 
 
 Alas ! my Saviour, who could dare 
 Bid Thee such bitter anguish bear, 
 
 What evil heart entreat Thee thus ? 
 
 For Thou art good, hast wronged none, 
 
 As we and ours too oft have done : 
 
 Thou hast not sinn’d, dear Lord, like us. 
 
 I and my sins, that number more . 
 
 Than yonder sands upon the shore, 
 
 Have brought to pass this agony. 
 
 ’Tis I have caused the floods of woe 
 That now Thy dying soul o’erflow, 
 
 And those sad hearts that watch by Thee. 
 
 Yet Thou dost even for my sake 
 On Thee, in love, the burdens take, 
 
 That weigh’d my spirit to the ground. 
 
 Yes : Thou art made a curse for me, 
 
 That I might yet be blest through Thee : 
 
 My healing in Thy wounds is found. 
 
 From henceforth there is nought of mine 
 But I would seek to make it Thine, 
 
 Since all myself to Thee I owe. 
 
 Whate’er my utmost powers can do, 
 
 To Thee to render service true, 
 
 Here at Thy feet I lay it low. 
 
 Gcrhardt, tr. by Miss Winkworth. 
 
 460. CHRIST : His faithfulness. 
 
 Not seldom, clad in radiant vest, 
 
 Deceitfully goes forth the morn ; 
 
 Not seldom, evening in the west 
 Sinks smilingly forsworn. 
 
 The smoothest seas will sometimes prove, 
 
 To the confiding bark, untrue ; 
 
 And, if she trust the stars above, 
 
 They can be treacherous too. 
 
 The umbrageous oak, in pomp outspread, 
 
 Full oft, when storms the welkin rend, 
 
 Draws lightnings down upon the head 
 It promised to defend. 
 
 But Thou art true, incarnate Lord, 
 
 Who didst vouchsafe for man to die : 
 
 Thy smile is sure, Thy plighted word 
 No change can falsify. 
 
 I bent before Thy gracious throne, 
 
 And ask’d for peace with suppliant knee ; 
 
 And peace was given, nor peace alone, 
 
 But faith, and hope, and ecstasy !— Wordsworth. 
 
 461. CHRIST : His incarnation. 
 
 All praise to Thee, eternal Lord ! 
 
 Clothed in a garb of flesh and blood ; 
 
 Choosing a manger for Thy throne, 
 
 While worlds on worlds are Thine alone. 
 
 Once did the skies before Thee bow : 
 
 A Virgin’s arms contain Thee now ; 
 
 Angels, who did in Thee rejoice, 
 
 Now listen for Thine infant voice. 
 
 A little child, Thou art our guest, 
 
 That weary ones in Thee may rest; 
 
 Forlorn and lowly is Thy birth, 
 
 That we may rise to heaven from earth. 
 
 Thou comest in the darksome night 
 To make us children of the light,—, 
 
 To make us, in the realms divine, 
 
 Like Thine own angels round Thee shine. 
 
 All this for us Thy love hath done ; 
 
 By this to Thee our love is won : 
 
 For this we tune our cheerful lays, 
 
 And shout our thanks in ceaseless praise. 
 
 Schaff. 
 
CHRIST 
 
 90 
 
 CHRIST 
 
 462. CHRIST : His knowledge of our necessities. 
 
 Thou knowest, Lord, the weariness and sorrow 
 Of the sad heart that comes to Thee for rest; 
 Cares of to-day, and burdens for to-morrow, 
 Blessings implored, and sins to be confess’d ; 
 
 I come before Thee at Thy gracious word, 
 
 And lay them at Thy feet ; Thou knowest, Lord. 
 
 Thou knowest all the past; how long and blindly 
 On the dark mountains the lost sheep had stray’d ; 
 How the Good Shepherd follow’d, and how kindly 
 He bore it home upon His shoulders laid, 
 
 And heal’d the bleeding wounds, and soothed the 
 pain, 
 
 And brought back life, and hope, and strength again. 
 
 Thou knowest all the present; each temptation, 
 Each toilsome duty, each foreboding fear; 
 
 All to myself assign’d of tribulation, 
 
 Or to beloved ones, than self more dear ; 
 
 All pensive memories, as I journey on, 
 
 Longings for vanish’d smiles and voices gone. 
 
 Thou knowest all the future gleams of gladness, 
 
 By stormy clouds too quickly overcast, 
 
 Hours of sweet fellowship and parting sadness, 
 
 And the dark "river to be cross’d at last; 
 
 Oh, what could hope and confidence afford 
 I o tread that path, but this—Thou knowest, Lord. 
 
 Thou knowest, not alone as God, all knowing ; 
 
 As man, our mortal weakness Thou hast proved; 
 On earth with purest sympathies o’erflowing, 
 
 O Saviour, Thou hast wept, and Thou hast loved ! 
 And love and sorrow still to Thee may come, 
 
 And find a hiding-place, a rest, a home. 
 
 Therefore I come, Thy gentle call obeying, 
 
 And lay my sins and sorrows at Thy feet, 
 
 On everlasting strength my weakness staying, 
 
 Clothed in Thy robe of righteousness complete ; 
 Then rising and refresh’d, I leave Thy throne, 
 
 And follow on to know as I am known. 
 
 463. CHRIST : His knowledge of the heart. 
 
 There is no need of words of mine to tell 
 My heart to Thee ; Thou needest not to spell, 
 
 As others must, my hidden thoughts and fears, 
 From out my broken words, my sobs, or tears ; 
 Thou knowest all, knowest far more than I, 
 
 The inner meaning of each tear or sigh. 
 
 464. CHRIST : His love for children. 
 
 There is no sweeter story told 
 In all the blessed Book, 
 
 Than how the Lord within His arms 
 The little children took. 
 
 We love Him for the tender touch 
 That made the leper whole, 
 
 And for the wondrous words that heal’d 
 The tired, sin-sick soul. 
 
 But closer to His loving self 
 Our human hearts are brought, 
 
 When for the little children’s sake 
 Love’s sweetest spell is wrought. 
 
 For their young eyes His sorrowing face 
 A smile of gladness wore— 
 
 A smile that for His little ones 
 It weareth evermore. 
 
 The voice that silenced priest and scribe, 
 For them grew low and sweet; 
 
 And still for them His gentle lips 
 The loving words repeat : 
 
 ‘ Forbid them not! ’ O blessed Christ! 
 
 We bring them unto Thee, 
 
 And pray that on their heads may rest 
 Thy benedicite !— E. D. 
 
 465. CHRIST : His love for children. 
 
 ‘ The Master has come over Jordan,’ 
 
 Said Hannah, the mother, one day : 
 
 ‘ He is healing the people who throng Him 
 With a touch of His finger, they say. 
 And now I shall carry the children, 
 
 Little Rachel and Samuel and John ; 
 
 I shall carry the baby, Esther, 
 
 For the Lord to look upon.’ 
 
 The father look’d at her kindly ; 
 
 But he shook his head and smiled : 
 
 ‘ Now, who but a doting mother 
 Would think of a thing so wild ? 
 
 If the children were tortured by demons, 
 
 Or dying of fever, ’twere well; 
 
 Or had they the taint of the leper. 
 
 Like many in Israel ’— 
 
 ‘ Nay, do not hinder me, Nathan ; 
 
 I feel such a burden of care : 
 
 If I carry it to the Master, 
 
 Perhaps I shall leave it there. 
 
 If He lay His hands on the children, 
 
 My heart will be lighter, I know ; 
 
 For a blessing for ever and ever 
 Will follow them as they go.’ 
 
 So, over the hills of Judah, 
 
 Along the vine-rows green, 
 
 With Esther asleep on her bosom, 
 
 And Rachel her brothers between, 
 
CHRIST 91 CHRIST 
 
 ’Mong the people who hung on His teaching, 
 
 Or waited His touch and His word, 
 
 Through the row of proud Pharisees hastening, 
 She press’d to the feet of the Lord. 
 
 ‘Now, why shouldst thou hinder the Master,’ 
 Said Peter, ‘ with children like these ? 
 
 Seest not how, from morning till evening, 
 
 He teacheth, and healeth disease?’ 
 
 Then Christ said, ‘ Forbid not the children ; 
 
 Permit them to come unto me: ’ 
 
 And He took in His arms little Esther, 
 
 And Rachel He set on His knee .—Julia GilL 
 
 466. CHRIST : His love our solace. 
 
 Sweet is the solace of Thy love, 
 
 My heavenly Friend, to me, 
 
 While through the hidden way of faith 
 I journey home with Thee, 
 
 Learning by quiet thankfulness 
 As a dear child to be. 
 
 Though from the shadow of Thy peace 
 My feet would often stray, 
 
 Thy mercy follows every step, 
 
 And will not turn away ; 
 
 Yea, Thou wilt comfort me at last, 
 
 As none beneath Thee may. 
 
 Oft in a dark and lonely place, 
 
 I hush my hasten’d breath, 
 
 To hear the comfortable words 
 Thy loving Spirit saith ; 
 
 And feel my safety in Thy hand 
 From every kind of death. 
 
 Oh, there is nothing in the world 
 To weigh against Thy will; 
 
 E’en the dark times I dread the most 
 Thy covenant fulfil ; 
 
 And when the glorious morning dawns 
 I find Thee with me still. 
 
 No other comforter I need, 
 
 If Thou, dear Lord, be mine ;— 
 
 Thy rod will bring my spirit low, 
 
 Thy fire my heart refine, 
 
 And cause me pain that none can heal 
 By other love than Thine. 
 
 Still in the solitary place 
 I would awhile abide, 
 
 Till with the solace of Thy love 
 My heart is satisfied, 
 
 And all my hopes of happiness 
 
 Stay calmly at Thy side.— A. L. Waring. 
 
 467. CPIRIST : His plea with the sinner. 
 
 I bore with thee long weary days and nights, 
 
 Through many pangs of heart, through many tears; 
 I bore with thee, thy hardness, coldness, slights, 
 
 For three and thirty years. 
 
 Who else had dared for thee what I have dared ? 
 
 I plunged the depth most deep from bliss above ; 
 
 I not my flesh, I not my spirit spared : 
 
 Give thou me love for love. 
 
 For thee I thirsted in the daily drouth, 
 
 For thee I trembled in the nightly frost : 
 
 Much sweeter thou than honey to my mouth ; 
 
 Why wilt thou still be lost ? 
 
 I bore thee on my shoulders, and rejoiced : 
 
 Men only mark’d upon my shoulders borne 
 The branding cross ; and shouted hungry-voiced, 
 
 Or wagg’d their heads in scorn. 
 
 Thee did nails grave upon my hands ; thy name 
 Did thorns for frontlets stamp between mine eyes : 
 I, Holy One, put on thy guilt and shame ; 
 
 I, God, Priest, Sacrifice. 
 
 A thief upon my right hand and my left ; 
 
 Six hours alone, athirst, in misery : 
 
 At length, in death, one smote my heart, and cleft 
 A hiding-place for thee. 
 
 Nail’d to the racking cross, than bed of down 
 More dear, whereon to stretch myself and sleep : 
 So did I win a kingdom,—share my crown ; 
 
 A harvest,—come and reap. 
 
 Christina Rossetti. 
 
 468. CHRIST : His presence longed for. 
 
 Then in the secret of my soul, 
 
 Though hosts my peace invade, 
 Though through a waste and weary land 
 My lonely way be made, 
 
 Thou, even Thou, wilt comfort me— 
 
 I need not be afraid. 
 
 My .Saviour, whom absent I love, 
 Whom, not having seen, I adore, 
 Whose name is exalted above 
 
 All glory, dominion, and power,— 
 Dissolve Thou those bands that detain 
 My soul from her portion in Thee ; 
 Ah ! strike off this adamant chain, 
 
 And make me eternally free 
 
 When that happy era begins, 
 
 When array’d in Thy glories I shine, 
 
CHRIST 
 
 92 
 
 CHRIST 
 
 Nor grieve any more, by my sins, 
 
 The bosom on which I recline, 
 
 Oh, then shall the vail be removed, 
 
 And round me Thy brightness be pour’d ! 
 
 I shall meet Him whom absent I loved, 
 
 I shall see whom unseen I adored. 
 
 And then nevermore shall the fears, 
 
 The trials, temptations, and woes, 
 
 Which darken this valley of tears, 
 
 Intrude on my blissful repose : 
 
 To Jesus, the crown of my hope, 
 
 My soul is in haste to be gone ; 
 
 Oh ! bear me, ye cherubim, up, 
 
 And waft me away to His throne !—Cow per. 
 
 469. CHRIST : His power to cleanse. 
 
 A leper once to Jesus came, 
 
 Relieving only in His name, 
 
 And trusting in His love : 
 
 ‘ Thou seest, Lord, my direst need, 
 
 Unclean and dying ! Yet I plead, 
 
 Thou canst my curse remove ! ’ 
 
 ‘ I will! Be clean ! ’ the Lord replied, 
 
 And straightway thrill’d the healthful tide 
 Of life along his veins ; 
 
 His leprosy was cleansed away, 
 
 His heart was fill’d with joy that day, 
 
 Departed all his pains. 
 
 Lord, I a suppliant also bow, 
 
 For I Thy power have need of now, 
 
 To cleanse away my guilt; 
 
 The leprosy of sin I feel, 
 
 Its woe, its curse ; but Thou canst heal—■ 
 
 Thou canst, if but Thou wilt. 
 
 Oh, let Thy power again be seen ! 
 
 Speak Thou the word : ‘ I will ! Be clean ! ’ 
 On me let mercy shine, 
 
 My guilt be pardon’d—heart be heal’d— 
 
 My soul for Thy salvation seal’d— 
 
 The glory shall be Thine. 
 
 470. CHRIST : His resurrection. 
 
 Christ the Lord is risen again ! 
 
 Christ hath broken every chain ! 
 
 Hark ! the angels shout for joy, 
 
 Singing evermore on high : 
 
 Hallelujah ! 
 
 He who gave for us His life, 
 
 Who for us endured the strife, 
 
 Is our Paschal Lamb to-day ! 
 
 We, too, sing for joy, and say : 
 
 Hallelujah ! 
 
 He who bore all pain and loss 
 Comfortless upon the cross, 
 
 Lives in glory now on high, 
 
 Pleads for us and hears our cry : 
 
 Hallelujah ! 
 
 He whose path no records tell, 
 
 Who descended into hell, 
 
 Who the strong man arm’d hath bound, 
 Now in highest heaven is crown’d : 
 Hallelujah ! 
 
 He who slumber’d in the grave, 
 
 Is exalted now to save ; 
 
 Now through Christendom it rings 
 That the Lamb is King of kings : 
 Hallelujah! 
 
 Now He bids us tell abroad, 
 
 How the lost may be restored, 
 
 How the penitent forgiven, 
 
 How we, too, may enter heaven: 
 Hallelujah ! 
 
 Thou our Paschal Lamb indeed, 
 
 Christ, to-day Thy people feed : 
 
 Take our sins and guilt away ; 
 
 Let us sing by night and day : 
 
 Hallelujah ! 
 
 Tr. from the Gemnan by Miss Winkworth. 
 
 471. CHRIST : His resurrection. 
 
 Ere yet the dawn has fill’d the skies, 
 Behold my Saviour Christ arise, 
 
 He chaseth from us sin and night, 
 
 And brings us joy and life and light : 
 Hallelujah ! Hallelujah ! 
 
 O stronger Thou than Death and Hell! 
 Where is the foe Thou canst not quell ? 
 What heavy stone Thou canst not roll 
 From off the prison’d anguish’d soul? 
 Hallelujah ! Hallelujah! 
 
 If Jesus lives, can I be sad? 
 
 I know He loves me, and am glad ; 
 Though all the world were dead to me. 
 Enough, O Christ, if I have Thee ! 
 Hallelujah! Hallelujah! 
 
 He feeds me, comforts and defends, 
 
 And when I die His angel sends 
 To bear me whither He is gone, 
 
 For of His own He loseth none : 
 
 Hallelujah! Hallelujah! 
 
 No more to fear or grief I bow, 
 
 God and the angels love me now ; 
 
CHRIST 93 CHRIST 
 
 The joys prepared for me to-day 
 Drive fear and mourning far away : 
 
 Hallelujah! Hallelujah!— Heerman. 
 
 472. CHRIST : His resurrection. 
 
 The morning purples all the slcy, 
 
 The air with praises rings; 
 
 Defeated hell stands sullen by, 
 
 The world exulting sings. 
 
 Glory to God ! our glad lips cry ; 
 
 All praise and worship be 
 On earth, in heaven, to God most High, 
 
 For Christ’s great victory ! 
 
 While He, the King, all strong to save, 
 Rends the dark doors away, 
 
 And through the breaches of the grave 
 Strides forth into the day ; 
 
 Glory to God ! our glad lips cry ; 
 
 All praise and worship be 
 On earth, in heaven, to God most High, 
 
 For Christ’s great victory ! 
 
 Death’s captive, in his gloomy prison, 
 
 Fast fetter’d He has lain ; 
 
 But He has master’d Death, is risen, 
 
 And Death wears now the chain. 
 
 Glory to God ! our glad lips cry ; 
 
 All praise and worship be 
 On earth, in heaven, to God most High, 
 
 For Christ’s great victory ! 
 
 The shining angels cry, ‘ Away 
 With grief; no spices bring ; 
 
 Not tears, but songs, this joyful day, 
 
 Should greet the rising King ! ’ 
 
 Glory to God ! our glad lips cry ; 
 
 All praise and worship be 
 On earth, in heaven, to God most High, 
 
 For Christ’s great victory ! 
 
 That Thou our Paschal Lamb mayst be, 
 
 And endless joy begin, 
 
 Jesus, Deliverer, set us free 
 From the dread death of sin. 
 
 Glory to God! our glad lips cry ; 
 
 All praise and worship be 
 On earth, in heaven, to God most High, 
 
 For Christ’s great victory ! 
 
 Roman Breviary , tr. by A. R. Thompson. 
 
 473. CHRIST : His sympathy with us. 
 
 Thou, who didst stoop below 
 To di'ain the cup of woe, 
 
 Wearing the form of frail mortality, 
 
 Thy blessed labours done, 
 
 Thy crown of victory won, 
 
 Hast pass’d from earth, pass’d to Thy home on high ; 
 
 Our eyes behold Thee not, 
 
 Yet hast Thou not forgot 
 
 Those who have placed their hope, their trust, in 
 Thee ; 
 
 Before Thy Father’s face 
 Thou hast prepared a place, 
 
 That where Thou art, there they may also be. 
 
 It was no path of flowers 
 Through this dark world of ours, 
 
 Beloved of the Father, Thou didst tread ! 
 
 And shall we in dismay 
 Shrink from the narrow way, 
 
 When clouds and darkness are around it spread ? 
 
 O Thou, who art our life, 
 
 Be with us through the strife ! 
 
 Thy holy head by earth’s fierce storms was bow’d ; 
 Raise Thou our eyes above, 
 
 To see a Father’s love 
 
 Beam, like the bow of promise, through the cloud. 
 
 E’en through the awful gloom 
 Which hovers o’er the tomb, 
 
 That light of love our guiding star shall be ; 
 
 Our spirits shall not dread 
 The shadowy way to tread, 
 
 Friend, Guardian, Saviour, which doth lead to Thee 
 
 Sarah A. Miles. 
 
 474. CHRIST : His treatment of the weak. 
 
 When evening choirs the praises hymn’d 
 In Zion’s courts of old, 
 
 The high priest -walk’d his rounds, and trimm’d 
 The shining lamps of gold ; 
 
 And if, perchance, some flame burn’d low. 
 
 With fresh oil vainly drench’d, 
 
 He cleansed it from its socket, so 
 The smoking flax was quench’d. 
 
 But Thou who walkest, Priest Most High ! 
 
 Thy golden lamps among, 
 
 What things are weak, and near to die, 
 
 Thou makest fresh and strong ;— 
 
 Thou breathest on the trembling spark, 
 
 That else must soon expire, 
 
 And swift it shoots up through the dark, 
 
 A brilliant spear of fire ! 
 
 The shepherd that to stream and shade 
 Withdrew his flock at noon, 
 
 On reedy stop soft music made, 
 
 In many a pastoral tune ; 
 
CHRIST 
 
 94 
 
 CHRIST 
 
 
 And if, perchance, the reed were crush’d, 
 
 It could not more be used,— 
 
 Its mellow music marr’d and hush’d, 
 
 He brake it, when so bruised. 
 
 But Thou, good Shepherd, who dost feed 
 Thy flock in pastures green, 
 
 Thou dost not break the bruised reed 
 That sorely crush’d hath been ;— 
 
 The heart that dumb in anguish lies, 
 
 Or yields but notes of woe, 
 
 Thou dost r^tune to harmonies 
 More rich than angels know ! 
 
 Lord, once my love was all a-blaze, 
 
 But now it burns so dim ! 
 
 My life was praise, but now my days 
 Make a poor broken hymn ; 
 
 Yet ne’er by Thee am I forgot, 
 
 But help’d in deepest need,— 
 
 The smoking flax Thou quenchest not, 
 
 Nor break’st the bruised reed. 
 
 IV. B. Robertson. 
 
 Our outward lips confess the Name 
 All other names above : 
 
 Love only knoweth whence it came, 
 And comprehendeth love. 
 
 Blow, winds of God, awake, and blow 
 The mists of earth away ; 
 
 Shine out, O Light divine ! and show 
 How wide and far we stray. 
 
 Hush every lip, close every book, 
 
 The strife of tongues forbear : 
 
 Why forward reach, or backward look, 
 For love that clasps like air ? 
 
 We may not climb the heavenly steeps 
 To bring the Lord Christ down : 
 
 In vain we search the lowest deeps, 
 For Him no depths can drown. 
 
 Nor holy bread, nor blood of grape, 
 The lineaments restore 
 
 Of Him we know in outward shape 
 And in the flesh no more. 
 
 475. CHRIST. Kingdom of 
 
 O North, with all thy vales of green ! 
 
 O South, with all thy palms ! 
 
 From peopled towns and fields between 
 Uplift the voice of psalms. 
 
 Raise, ancient East ! the anthem high, 
 And let the youthful West reply. 
 
 Lo ! in the clouds of heaven appears 
 God’s well-beloved Son. 
 
 He brings a train of brighter years, 
 
 His kingdom is begun. 
 
 He comes a guilty world to bless 
 With mercy, truth, and righteousness. 
 
 O Father ! haste the promised hour, 
 
 When at His feet shall lie 
 All rule, authority, and power, 
 
 Beneath the ample sky ; 
 
 When He shall reign from pole to pole, 
 The Lord of every human soul; 
 
 When all shall heed the words He said, 
 Amid their daily cares, 
 
 And by the loving fife He led 
 Shall strive to pattern theirs : 
 
 And He who conquer’d Death shall win 
 The mightier conquest over Sin.— Bryant. 
 
 476. CHRIST. Ode to 
 
 Immortal Love, for ever full, 
 
 For ever flowing free, 
 
 For ever shared, for ever whole, 
 
 A never-ebbing sea! 
 
 He cometh not a King to reign ; 
 
 The world’s long hope is dim : 
 
 The weary centuries watch in vain 
 The clouds of heaven for Him. 
 
 Death comes ; life goes ; the asking eye 
 And ear are answerless ; 
 
 The grave is dumb ; the hollow sky 
 Is sad with silentness. 
 
 The letter fails, and systems fall, 
 
 And every symbol wanes : 
 
 The Spirit over-brooding all, 
 
 Eternal Love, remains, 
 
 And not for signs in heaven above 
 Or earth below they look, 
 
 Who know with John His smile of love, 
 With Peter His rebuke. 
 
 In joy of inward peace, or sense 
 Of sorrow over sin, 
 
 He is Plis own best evidence : 
 
 His witness is within. 
 
 No fable old, nor mythic lore, 
 
 Nor dream of bards and seers, 
 
 No dead fact stranded on the shore 
 Of the oblivious years ; 
 
 But warm, sweet, tender, even yet 
 A present help is He : 
 
 And faith has still its Olivet ; 
 
 And love, its Galilee. 
 
 The healing of His seamless dress 
 Is by our beds of pain : 
 
CHRIST 
 
 95 
 
 CHRIST 
 
 We touch Him in life’s throng and press, 
 And we are whole again. 
 
 Through Him the first fond prayers are said 
 Our lips of childhood frame ; 
 
 The last low whispers of our dead 
 Are burden’d with His name. 
 
 O Lord and Master of us all! 
 
 Whate’er our name or sign, 
 
 We own Thy sway, we hear Thy call, 
 
 We test our lives by Thine. 
 
 Thou judgest us ; Thy purity 
 Doth all our lusts condemn ; 
 
 The love that draws us nearer Thee 
 Is hot with wrath to them. 
 
 Our thoughts lie open to Thy sight; 
 
 And, naked to Thy glance. 
 
 Our secret sins are in the light 
 Of Thy pure countenance. 
 
 Thy healing pains ; a keen distress 
 Thy tender light shines in ; 
 
 Thy sweetness is the bitterness, 
 
 Thy grace the pang, of sin. 
 
 Yet, weak and blinded though we be, 
 
 Thou dost our service own : 
 
 We bring our varying gifts to Thee, 
 
 And Thou rejectest none. 
 
 To Thee our full humanity, 
 
 Its joys and pains, belong : 
 
 The wrong of man to man on Thee 
 Inflicts a deeper wrong. 
 
 Who hates, hates Thee ; who loves, becomes 
 Therein to Thee allied : 
 
 All sweet accords of hearts and homes 
 In Thee are multiplied. 
 
 Deep strike Thy roots, O heavenly Vine ! 
 Within our earthly sod, 
 
 Most human and yet most Divine, 
 
 The flower of man and God. 
 
 O Love ! O Life !—our faith and sight 
 Thy presence maketh one ; 
 
 As through transfigured clouds of white 
 We trace the noonday sun. 
 
 So, to our mortal eyes subdued, 
 
 Flesh-veil’d, but not conceal’d, 
 
 We know in Thee the fatherhood 
 And heart of God reveal’d. 
 
 We faintly hear, we dimly see, 
 
 In differing phrase we pray ; 
 
 But, dim or clear, we own in Thee 
 The Light, the Truth, the Way. 
 
 The homage that we render Thee 
 Is still our Father’s own : 
 
 Nor jealous claim or rivalry 
 Divides the Cross and Throne. 
 
 To do Thy will is more than praise, 
 
 As words are less than deeds; 
 
 And simple trust can find Thy ways 
 We miss with chart of creeds. 
 
 No pride of self Thy service hath, 
 
 No place for me and mine: 
 
 Our human strength is weakness, death 
 Our life, apart from Thine. 
 
 Apart from Thee, all gain is loss, 
 
 All labour vainly done : 
 
 The solemn shadow of Thy cross 
 Is better than the sun. 
 
 Alone, O Love ineffable ! 
 
 Thy saving name is given : 
 
 To turn aside from Thee is hell, 
 
 To walk with Thee is heaven. 
 
 How vain, secure in all Thou art, 
 
 Our noisy championship ! 
 
 The sighing of the contrite heart 
 Is more than flattering lip. 
 
 Not Thine the bigot’s partial plea, 
 
 Nor Thine the zealot’s ban : 
 
 Thou well canst spare a love of Thee 
 Which ends in hate of man. 
 
 Our Friend, our Brother, and our Lord, 
 What may Thy service be ? 
 
 Nor name, nor form, nor ritual word, 
 
 But simply following Thee. 
 
 We bring no ghastly holocaust, 
 
 We pile no graven stone : 
 
 He serves Thee best who loveth most 
 His brothers and Thy own. 
 
 Thy litanies, sweet offices 
 Of love and gratitude ; 
 
 Thy sacramental liturgies, 
 
 The joy of doing good. 
 
 In vain shall waves of incense drift 
 The vaulted nave around, 
 
 In vain the minster turret lift 
 Its brazen weights of sound. 
 
 The heart must ring Thy Christmas-bells, 
 Thy inward altars raise : 
 
 Its faith and hope Thy canticles ; 
 
 And its obedience, praise. — Whittier. 
 
2 
 
 CHRIST 96 CHRIST 
 
 477. CHRIST : our Example. 
 
 Most holy Jesus, Fount of light ! 
 
 As crystal clear, for ever bright, 
 
 Thou Stream o’erflowing, pure and free ; 
 
 The brightness of the cherubim, 
 
 The glow of burning seraphim, 
 
 Are darkness when compared with Thee. 
 
 Be Thou my pattern bright, 
 
 My stucly and delight, 
 
 My all in all. 
 
 Oh, teach Thou me, that I may be 
 
 All pure and holy, like to Thee !— Crasselius. 
 
 478. CHRIST : our Life. 
 
 O glorious Head, Thou livest now ! 
 
 Let us, Thy members, share Thy life ; 
 
 Canst Thou behold their need, nor bow 
 To raise Thy children from the strife 
 With self and sin, with death and dark distress, 
 
 That they may live to Thee in holiness ? 
 
 Earth knows Thee not, but evermore 
 Thou liv’st in Paradise, in peace ; 
 
 Thither my soul would also soar, 
 
 Let me from all the creatures cease : 
 
 Dead to the world, but to Thy Spirit known, 
 
 I live to Thee, O Prince of Life ! alone. 
 
 Break through my bonds whate’er it cost; 
 
 What is not Thine within me slay ; 
 
 Give me the lot I covet most, 
 
 To rise as Thou hast risen to-day. 
 
 Nought can I do, a slave to death I pine : 
 
 Work Thou in me, O Power and Life Divine ! 
 
 Work Thou in me, and heavenward guide 
 My thoughts and wishes, that my heart 
 Waver no more nor turn aside, 
 
 But fix for ever where Thou art. 
 
 Thou art not far from us : who love Thee well 
 While yet on earth, in heaven with Thee may dwell. 
 
 479. CHRIST : the Bread of Life. 
 
 The ages show their garner’d sheaves of thought, 
 By all the gleaning generations brought, 
 
 Some secret mildew on them all hath wrought, 
 
 No food is there. 
 
 But in an upper room in Palestine, 
 
 Is one that giveth mystic bread and wine, 
 
 I reach out for that nourishment divine, 
 
 And faint no more. 
 
 480. CHRIST : the Good Shepherd. 
 
 ‘In pastures green’—not always—sometimes He 
 Who knoweth best, in kindness leadeth me 
 In weary ways, where heavy shadows be. 
 
 Out of the sunshine, warm and soft and bright, 
 Out of the sunshine into darkest night; 
 
 I oft would faint with sorrow and affright. 
 
 Only for this—I know He holds my hand, 
 
 So whether led in green or desert land, 
 
 I trust, although I may not understand. 
 
 And by ‘ still waters ’—no, not always so ; 
 Ofttimes the heavy tempests round me blow, 
 
 And o’er my soul the waves and billows go. 
 
 But when the storms beat loudest, and I cry 
 Aloud for help, the Master standeth by 
 And whispers to my soul, ‘ Lo, it is I.’ 
 
 Above the tempest wild I hear Him say : 
 
 ‘ Beyond the darkness lies the perfect day, 
 
 In every path of thine I lead the way.’ 
 
 481. CHRIST. Questions about 
 
 Art thou weary, art thou languid, art thou soi 
 distrest ? 
 
 ‘ Come to me,’ saith One,—and ‘ coming, be at rest 
 Hath He marks to lead me to Him,—if He be m 
 Guide ? 
 
 In His feet and hands are wound-prints, and H 
 side ! 
 
 Is there diadem, as monarch, that His brow adorns 
 Yea : a crown, in very surety,—but of thorns ! 
 
 If I find Him, if I follow, what Plis guerdon here ? 
 Many a sorrow, many a labour, many a tear ! 
 
 If I still hold closely to Him, what hath He at last 
 Sorrow vanquish’d, labour ended, Jordan past! 
 
 If I ask Him to receive me, will He say me nay ? 
 Not till earth and not till heaven pass away ! 
 Finding, following, keeping, struggling, is He sure t 
 bless ? 
 
 Angels, martyrs, prophets, pilgrims, answer, Yes ! 
 
 Stephen, tr. by J. M. Neale. 
 
 482. CHRIST. Selling 
 
 If to-day thou turn’st aside 
 In thy luxury and pride, 
 
 Wrapp’d within thyself, and blind 
 To the sorrows of thy kind, 
 
 Thou a faithless watch dost keep— 
 
 Thou art one of them that sleep : 
 
 Or if, waking, thou dost see 
 
 Nothing of divinity 
 
 In our fallen, struggling race— 
 
 If in them thou see’st no trace 
 Of a glory dimm’d, not gone, 
 
 Of a future to be won, 
 
 Of a future, hopeful, high, 
 
 Thou, like Peter, dost deny : 
 
CHRIST 
 
 97 
 
 CHRIST 
 
 But if, seeing, thou believest, 
 
 If the Evangel thou receivest, 
 
 Yet, if thou art bound to sin, 
 
 False to the ideal within, 
 
 Slave of ease, or slave of gold, 
 
 Thou the Son of God hast sold. 
 
 A. C. Lynch. 
 
 483. CHRIST : a Sin-bearer. 
 
 Thy works, not mine, O Christ, 
 
 Speak gladness to this heart; 
 
 They tell me all is done ; 
 
 They bid my fear depart. 
 
 To whom save Thee, 
 
 Who can alone 
 For sin atone, 
 
 Lord, shall I flee ! 
 
 Thy pains, not mine, O Christ, 
 
 Upon the shameful tree, 
 
 Have paid the law’s full price, 
 
 And purchased peace for me. 
 
 Thy tears, not mine, O Christ, 
 
 Have wept my guilt away ; 
 
 And turn’d this night of mine 
 Into a blessed day. 
 
 Thy bonds, not mine, O Christ, 
 
 Unbind me of my chain, 
 
 And break my prison-doors, 
 
 Ne’er to be barr’d again. 
 
 Thy wounds, not mine, O Christ, 
 
 . Can heal my bruised soul; 
 
 Thy stripes, not mine, contain 
 The balm that makes me whole. 
 
 Thy blood, not mine, O Christ, 
 
 Thy blood so freely spilt, 
 
 Can blanch my blackest stains, 
 
 And purge away my guilt. 
 
 Thy cross, not mine, O Christ, 
 
 Has borne the awful load 
 
 Of sins, that none in heaven 
 Or earth could bear, but God. 
 
 Thy death, not mine, O Christ, 
 
 Has paid the ransom due : 
 
 Ten thousand deaths like mine, 
 
 Would have been all too few. 
 
 Thy righteousness, O Christ, 
 
 Alone can cover me ; 
 
 No righteousness avails 
 
 Save that which is of Thee. 
 
 Thy righteousness alone 
 Can clothe and beautify : 
 
 I wrap it round my soul ; 
 
 In this I’ll live and die.— Bonar. 
 
 484. CHRIST. Sufficiency of 
 
 He is a path, if any be misled ; 
 
 He is a robe, if any naked be ; 
 
 If any chance to hunger, He is bread ; 
 
 If any be a bondman, He, He is free ; 
 
 If any be but weak, how strong is He ! 
 
 To dead men, life He is; to sick men, health ; 
 
 To blind men, sight ; and, to the needy, wealth ; 
 A pleasure without loss, a treasure without stealth. 
 
 Giles Fletcher. 
 
 485. CHRIST: suggested. 
 
 Earth has nothing sweet or fair, 
 
 Lovely forms or beauties rare, 
 
 But before my eyes they bring 
 Christ, of beauty Source and Spring. 
 
 When the morning paints the skies, 
 
 When the golden sunbeams rise, 
 
 Then my Saviour’s form I find 
 Brightly imaged on my mind. 
 
 When the day-beams pierce the night, 
 
 Oft I think on Jesu’s light, 
 
 Think how bright that light will be, 
 
 Shining through eternity. 
 
 When, as moonlight softly steals, 
 
 Heaven its thousand eyes reveals, 
 
 Then I think : Who made their light 
 Is a thousand times more bright. 
 
 When I see, in spring-tide gay, 
 
 Fields their varied tints display, 
 
 Wakes the thrilling thought in me, 
 
 What must their Creator be ! 
 
 If I trace the fountain’s source, 
 
 Or the brooklet’s devious course, 
 
 Straight my thoughts to Jesus mount, 
 
 As the best and purest fount. 
 
 Sweet the song the night-bird sings, 
 
 Sweet the lute, with quivering strings; 
 
 Far more sweet than every tone 
 Are the words ‘ Maria’s Son.’ 
 
 Sweetness fills the air around, 
 
 At the echo’s answering sound; 
 
 But more sweet than echo’s fall 
 Is to me the Bridegroom’s call. 
 
 Lord of all that’s fair to see! 
 
 Come, reveal Thyself to me; 
 
 Let me, ’mid Thy radiant light, 
 
 See Thine unveil’d glories bright. 
 
 Angelins Silesius, tr. by F. E. Cox. 
 
CHRISTIAN 
 
 CHRIST 93 
 
 486. CHRIST. Star of 
 
 When, marshall’d on the nightly plain, 
 
 The glittering host bestud the sky, 
 
 One star alone of all the train 
 
 Can fix the sinner’s wandering eye. 
 
 Hark ! hark ! to God the chorus breaks 
 From every host, from every gem ; 
 
 But one alone the Saviour speaks ; 
 
 It is the Star of Bethlehem. 
 
 Once on the raging seas I rode, 
 
 The storm was loud, the night was dark, 
 
 The ocean yawn’d, and wildly blow’d 
 
 The wind that toss’d my foundering bark. 
 Deep horror then my vitals froze; 
 
 Death-struck, I ceased the tide to stem ; 
 When suddenly a star arose : 
 
 It was the Star of Bethlehem. 
 
 It was my guide, my light, my all; 
 
 It bade my dark foreboding cease ; 
 
 And through the storm and danger’s thrall 
 It led me to the port of peace. 
 
 Now safely moor’d—my perils o’er— 
 
 I’ll sing, first in night’s diadem, 
 
 For ever and for evermore, 
 
 The Star ! the Star of Bethlehem ! 
 
 H. K. White. 
 
 487. CHRIST : the Way, the Truth, and the Life. 
 
 Thou art the Way ; to Thee alone 
 From sin and death we flee ; 
 
 And he who would the Father seek, 
 
 Must seek Him, Lord, by Thee. 
 
 Thou art the Truth ; Thy word alone 
 True wisdom can impart; 
 
 Thou only canst inform the mind, 
 
 And purify the heart. 
 
 Thou art the Life ! the rending tomb 
 Proclaims Thy conquering arm ; 
 
 And those who put their trust in Thee 
 Nor death nor hell shall harm. 
 
 Thou art the Way, the Truth, the Life ; 
 
 Grant us that Way to know ; 
 
 That Truth to keep, that Life to win, 
 
 Whose joys eternal flow.— Doane. 
 
 488. CHRIST : unseen, yet loved. 
 
 Jesus, these eyes have never seen 
 That radiant form of Thine ; 
 
 The veil of sense hangs dark between 
 Thy blessed face and mine. 
 
 I see Thee not, I hear Thee not, 
 
 Yet art Thou oft with me ; 
 
 And earth hath ne’er so dear a spot 
 As where I meet with Thee. 
 
 Like some bright dream that comes unsought, 
 When slumbers o’er me roll, 
 
 Thine image ever fills my thought, 
 
 And charms my ravish’d soul. 
 
 Yet though I have not seen, and still 
 Must rest in faith alone, 
 
 I love Thee, dearest Lord,—and will, 
 
 Unseen, but not unknown. 
 
 When death these mortal eyes shall seal, 
 
 And still this throbbing heart, 
 
 The rending veil shall Thee reveal, 
 
 All glorious as Thou art .—Ray Palmer. 
 
 489. CHRISTIAN. The : his future glory. 
 
 {To a Butterfly .) 
 
 Child of the sun ! pursue thy rapturous flight, 
 Mingle with her thou lovest in fields of light; 
 
 And, where the flowers of Paradise unfold, 
 
 Quaff fragrant nectar from their cups of gold : 
 
 There shall your wings, rich as an evening sky, 
 Expand and shut with silent ecstasy. 
 
 Yet wert thou once a worm ; a thing that crept 
 On the bare earth, then wrought a tomb, and slept! 
 And such is man ; soon from the cell of clay 
 To burst a seraph, in the blaze of day.— Rogers. 
 
 490. CHRISTIAN. The: his peace. 
 
 Let not your heart be faint : 
 
 My peace I give to you,— 
 
 Such peace as reason never plann’d, 
 
 As worldlings never knew. 
 
 ’Tis not the noiseless calm 
 That bodes a tempest nigh, 
 
 Or lures the heedless mariner 
 
 Where rocks and quicksands lie. 
 
 ’Tis not fallen nature’s sleep, 
 
 The stupor of the soul 
 That knows not God, nor owns His hand, 
 
 Though wide His thunders roll. 
 
 ’Tis not the sleep of death, 
 
 Low in the darksome grave, 
 
 Where the worm spreads its couch, and feeds, 
 
 No hand put forth to save. 
 
 It speaks a ransom’d world, 
 
 A Father reconciled, 
 
 A sinner to a saint transform’d, 
 
 A rebel to a child. 
 
 / 
 
CHRISTIAN 
 
 99 
 
 CHRISTIANITY 
 
 It tells of joys to come; 
 
 It soothes the troubled breast; 
 
 It shines, a star amid the storm,— 
 
 The harbinger of rest. 
 
 Then murmur not, nor mourn, 
 
 My people faint and few : 
 
 Though earth to its foundation shake, 
 
 My peace I leave with you. 
 
 John A. Lairobe. 
 
 491. CHRISTIAN. The: must in all things 
 
 bear witness for Christ. 
 
 I HEARD of a quaint old story 
 In a far-away Eastern land, 
 
 Of a mosque of Mahomet that rises 
 Not far from the sloping strand. 
 
 There bow’d in his chains a captive 
 Who had come from a Northern town, 
 
 Where the sun that runs low in the winter 
 Shines cold on the frozen ground. 
 
 Rare powers he had at building, 
 
 For the forest, so grand and wild, 
 
 He could shape it again in the marble. 
 
 Trunk, foliage, arches, and aisle. 
 
 They offer’d the slave his ransom 
 With a pass to the Northern land, 
 
 If a mosque to Mahomet he builded 
 To tower above the strand. 
 
 He plann’d in the stone so grandly, 
 
 And he wrought for his life, that man ; 
 
 But they saw in the beautiful outlines 
 The cross he had dared to plan. 
 
 They mockingly gave the ransom, 
 
 Out of fetters his soul was sent, 
 
 From the land of the fiery summer, 
 
 But death —was the way he went. 
 
 He left for us all a lesson: 
 
 To whatever you put your hand, 
 
 Be it deeds that you dare or may cherish, 
 
 The cross—let it mark the plan. 
 
 In patient endeavour be Christ-like, 
 
 In your trials and pains and loss, 
 
 That all who look at your living 
 
 May see in your life the cross.— E. A. Rand. 
 
 492. ‘CHRISTIAN : * origin of the name. 
 
 O Antioch, thou teacher of the world ! 
 
 From out thy portals pass’d the feet of those, 
 
 Who, banish’d and despised, have made thy name 
 The next in rank to proud Jerusalem. 
 
 Within thy gates the persecuted few 
 Who dared to rally round the holy cross 
 And worship Him whose sacred form it bore, 
 
 Were first called Christians. In thy sad conceit, 
 Thou mad’st a stigma of reproach and shame, 
 
 This noblest title of the sons of earth ; 
 
 While, save for this, thy name were scarcely known, 
 Except among the mouldering vestiges 
 Of dim antiquity.— J. L. Chester. 
 
 493. CHRISTIAN SERVICE. 
 
 We, who so tenderly were sought, 
 
 Shall we not joyful seekers be, 
 
 And to Thy feet divinely brought, 
 
 Bring weaker souls, dear Lord, to Thee ? 
 
 Celestial seeker ! send us forth ! 
 
 Almighty lover ! teach us love ! 
 
 When shall we yearn to help our earth, 
 
 As yearn’d the Holy One above ? 
 
 494. CHRISTIANS : the lights of the world. 
 
 Stars are of mighty use : the night 
 Is dark and long ; 
 
 The road foul; and where one goes right, 
 
 Six may go wrong. 
 
 One twinkling ray 
 Shot o’er some cloud, 
 
 May clear much away, 
 
 And guide a crowd. 
 
 God’s saints are shining lights : who stays 
 Here long, must pass 
 
 O’er dark hills, swift streams, and steep ways 
 As smooth as glass ; 
 
 But these all night, 
 
 Like candles, shed 
 Their beams, and light 
 Us into bed. 
 
 They are indeed our pillar-fires, 
 
 Seen as we go ; 
 
 They are that city’s shining spires 
 We travel to. 
 
 A sword-like gleam 
 Kept man from sin 
 First out; this beam 
 
 Will guide him in. — Henry Vaughan. 
 
 495. CHRISTIANITY : its mysteries. 
 
 The Christian’s faith had many mysteries too. 
 
 The uncreated Holy Three in One ; 
 
 Divine Incarnate, Human in Divine ; 
 
 The inward call; the Sanctifying Dew ; 
 
CHRISTMAS 
 
 ioo 
 
 CHRISTMAS 
 
 Coming unseen, unseen departing thence ; 
 
 Anew creating all, and yet not heard ; 
 
 Compelling, yet not felt: mysterious these ; 
 
 Not that Jehovah to conceal them wish’d ; 
 
 Not that Religion wish’d. The Christian faith, 
 Unlike the timorous creeds of Pagan priest, 
 
 Was frank, stood forth to view, invited all 
 To prove, examine, search, investigate, 
 
 And gave herself a light to see her by. 
 
 Mysterious these—because too large for eye 
 Of man, too long for human arm to mete.— Pollok. 
 
 496. CHRISTMAS. A Christmas Carol. 
 
 All my heart this night rejoices, 
 
 As I hear, 
 
 Far and near, 
 
 Sweetest angel voices : 
 
 ‘Christ is born,’ their choirs are singing, 
 
 Till the air 
 Everywhere 
 
 Now with joy is ringing. 
 
 Hark ! a voice from yonder manger, 
 
 Soft and sweet, 
 
 Doth entreat: 
 
 ‘ Flee from woe and danger ; 
 
 Brethren, come : from all that grieves you 
 You are freed ; 
 
 All you need 
 
 I will surely give you.’ 
 
 Come, then, let us hasten yonder; 
 
 Here let all, 
 
 Great and small, 
 
 Kneel in awe and wonder ; 
 
 Love Him who with love is yearning ; 
 
 Hail the Star 
 That from far 
 
 Bright with hope is burning ! 
 
 Ye who pine in weary sadness, 
 
 Weep no more, 
 
 For the door 
 
 Now is found of gladness. 
 
 Cling to Him, for He will guide you 
 Where no cross, 
 
 Pain or loss, 
 
 Can again betide you. 
 
 Hither come, ye heavy-hearted, 
 
 Who for sin, 
 
 Deep within, 
 
 Long and sore have smarted : 
 
 For the poison’d wounds you’re feeling 
 Plelp is near; 
 
 One is here 
 
 Mighty for their healing. 
 
 Hither come, ye poor and wretched ; 
 
 Know His will 
 Is to fill 
 
 Every hand outstretched : 
 
 Here are riches without measure, 
 
 Here forget 
 All regret, 
 
 Fill your hearts with treasure. 
 
 Blessed Saviour, let me find Thee ! 
 
 Keep Thou me 
 Close to Thee, 
 
 Cast me not behind Thee ! 
 
 Life of life, my heart Thou stillest, 
 
 Calm I rest 
 On Thy breast, 
 
 All this void Thou fillest. 
 
 Heedfully my Lord I’ll cherish, 
 
 Live to Thee, 
 
 And with Thee 
 
 Dying shall not perish ; 
 
 But shall dwell with Thee for ever, 
 
 Far on high, 
 
 In the joy 
 
 That can alter never. 
 
 Gerhardt , tr. by Miss Winkworth. 
 
 497. CHRISTMAS. A Christmas Carol. 
 
 To-day in Bethlehem hear I 
 Sweet angel voices singing : 
 
 All glory be to God on high, 
 
 Who peace to earth is bringing. 
 
 The Virgin Mary holdeth more 
 Than highest heaven most holy : 
 
 Light shines on what was dark before, 
 
 And lifteth up the lowly. 
 
 God wills that peace should be in earth, 
 And holy exultation : 
 
 Sweet Babe, I greet Thy spotless birth 
 And wondrous Incarnation. 
 
 To-day in Bethlehem hear I 
 Even the lowly singing : 
 
 With angel-words they pierce the sky ; 
 
 All earth with joy is ringing. 
 
 John of Damascus, tr. by Schaff. 
 
 498. CHRISTMAS. A Christmas Carol. 
 
 Like silver lamps in a distant shrine, 
 
 The stars are sparkling clear and bright; 
 
 The bells of the city of God ring out, 
 
 For the Son of Mary was bom to-night; 
 
 The gloom is past, and the morn at last 
 Is coming with orient light. 
 
CHRISTMAS 
 
 IOI 
 
 CHRISTMAS 
 
 Never fell melodies half so sweet 
 As those which are filling the skies ; 
 
 And never a palace shone half so fair 
 As the manger-bed where our Saviour lies ; 
 
 No night in the year is half so dear 
 As this which has ended our sighs. 
 
 The stars of heaven still shine as at first 
 They gleam’d on this wonderful night; 
 
 The bells of the city of God peal out, 
 
 And the angels’ song still rings in the height ; 
 
 Mid love still turns where the Godhead burns, 
 Veil’d in the flesh from fleshly sight. 
 
 ?aith sees no longer the stable floor, 
 
 The pavement of sapphire is there ; 
 
 The clear light of heaven streams out to the world, 
 And angels of God are crowding the air ; 
 
 Vnd heaven and earth through the spotless birth 
 Are at peace on this night so fair. — W. C. Dix. 
 
 499. CHRISTMAS. Glory of 
 
 A Day, a Day of Glory ! 
 
 A Day that ends our woe ! 
 
 A Day that tells of triumph 
 Against the vanquish’d foe ! 
 
 Yield, summer’s brightest sunrise, 
 
 To this December morn : 
 
 Lift up your gates, ye Princes, 
 
 And let the Child be born ! 
 
 With ‘ Glory in the Highest,’ 
 
 Archangels tell their mirth : 
 
 With ‘ Lord, have mercy on us,’ 
 
 Men answer upon earth : 
 
 And Angels swell the triumph, 
 
 And mortals raise the horn, 
 
 Lift up your gates, ye Princes, 
 
 And let the Child be born !' 
 
 He comes, His throne the manger, 
 
 He comes, His shrine the stall; 
 
 The ox and ass His courtiers, 
 
 W ho made and governs all ; 
 
 The ‘ House of Bread ’ His birthplace, 
 
 The Prince of Wine and Corn ; 
 
 Lift up your gates, ye Princes, 
 
 And let the Child be born ! 
 
 Tr. by 7. M. Neale. 
 
 5 00 - CHRISTMAS : how to keep it. 
 
 He came, heaven’s glories to unfold, 
 
 To bring the captive a release, 
 
 For age of iron, an age of gold,— 
 
 Emmanuel, the Prince of Peace. 
 
 So chime the bells for weald and wold, 
 
 Hang the bright holly up on high; 
 
 Aye fresh and green His love untold, 
 
 He died, but ne’er again shall die. 
 
 Then bear a joy where joys are not, 
 
 Go speak a kindly word in love ; 
 
 Less bitter make some loveless lot, 
 
 Now earth is link’d to heaven above; 
 
 And day by day, in common round, 
 
 Or dark or light, in joy or ill, 
 
 Let faith and love and peace be found, 
 
 So ever work a Father’s will. — W. S. Lee. 
 
 501. CHRISTMAS. Hymn for 
 
 Come hither, ye faithful; 
 
 Triumphantly sing ; 
 
 Come, see in the manger 
 Our Saviour and King ! 
 
 To Bethlehem hasten, 
 
 With joyful accord ! 
 
 Oh, come ye, come hither, 
 
 To worship the Lord ! 
 
 True Son of the Father, 
 
 He comes from the skies ; 
 
 To be born of a Virgin 
 He doth not despise. 
 
 To Bethlehem hasten, etc. 
 
 Hark, hark to the angels ! 
 
 All singing in heaven : 
 
 ‘ To God in the highest 
 All glory be given ! ’ 
 
 To Bethlehem hasten, etc. 
 
 To Thee, then, O Jesus ! 
 
 This day of Thy birth, 
 
 Be glory and honour 
 
 Through heaven and earth ! 
 
 True Godhead Incarnate ! 
 
 Omnipotent Word ! 
 
 Oh, come, let us hasten 
 
 To worship the Lord !— From the Latin. 
 
 502. CHRISTMAS. Return of 
 
 The happy Christmas comes once more, 
 
 The heavenly Guest is at the door: 
 
 'Pile blessed words the shepherds thrill, 
 
 The joyous tidings : Peace, good-will ! 
 
 Oh wake our hearts, in gladness sing ! 
 
 And keep our Christmas with our King, 
 
 Till living song, from loving souls, 
 
 Like sound of mighty waters rolls. 
 
 O holy Child ! Thy manger streams 
 Till earth and heaven glow with its beams, 
 d ill midnight noon’s broad light has won, 
 
 And Jacob’s Star outshines the sun. 
 
 
CHRISTMAS 
 
 102 
 
 CHRISTMAS 
 
 Thou Patriarchs’ joy, Thou Prophets’ song, 
 Thou heavenly Day-spring, look’d for long, 
 Thou Son of Man, Incarnate Word, 
 
 Great David’s Son, great David’s Lord ! 
 
 Come, Jesus, glorious, heavenly Guest, 
 
 Keep Thine own Christmas in our breast! 
 
 Then David’s harp-strings, hush’d so long, 
 
 Shall swell our Jubilee of song. 
 
 Tr. from the Danish by Chas. P. Kranth. 
 
 503. CHRISTMAS. Song of 
 
 It came upon the midnight clear, 
 
 That glorious song of old, 
 
 From angels bending near the earth 
 To touch their harps of gold : 
 
 ‘ Peace to the earth, good-will to men 
 From heaven’s all-gracious King ! ’ 
 
 The world in solemn stillness lay 
 To hear the angels sing. 
 
 Still through the cloven skies they come, 
 
 With peaceful wings unfurl’d ; 
 
 And still their heavenly music floats 
 O’er all the weary world : 
 
 Above its sad and lowly plains 
 They bend on heavenly wing, 
 
 And ever o’er its Babel sounds 
 The blessed angels sing. 
 
 Yet with the woes of sin and strife 
 The world has suffer’d long : 
 
 Beneath the angel-strain have roll'd 
 Two thousand years of wrong ; 
 
 And men, at war with men, hear not 
 The love-song which they bring : 
 
 Oh ! hush the noise, ye men of strife, 
 
 And hear the angels sing ! 
 
 And ye, beneath life’s crushing load 
 Whose forms are bending low ; 
 
 Who toil along the climbing way 
 With painful steps and slow,— 
 
 Look now ! for glad and golden hours 
 Come swiftly on the wing ; 
 
 Oh ! rest beside the weary road, 
 
 And hear the angels sing. 
 
 For lo ! the days are hastening on, 
 
 By prophet-bards foretold, 
 
 When with the ever-circling years 
 Comes round the age of gold ; 
 
 When Peace shall over all the earth 
 Its ancient splendours fling, 
 
 And the whole world send back the song 
 Which now the angels sing. 
 
 Edmund II. Scars. 
 
 504. CHRISTMAS. The Christmas Angels. 
 
 The Christmas angels, is their mission ended ? 
 
 They are not seen by mortal eyes, as when 
 O’er Bethlehem’s plain their shining troops de¬ 
 scended, 
 
 And chanted, ‘ Peace on earth, good-will to men.’ 
 
 The voices that once join’d the heavenly chorus— 
 That mighty ‘ Gloria,’ echoing far and wide— 
 
 Are floating in the wintry starlight o’er us, 
 
 And singing sweetly every Christmas-tide. 
 
 Far over snow-clad hills and moorlands dreary 
 Is heard the rushing of each silver wing ; 
 Wherever homes are sad or hearts are weary 
 The blessed Christmas angels come and sing. 
 
 In the dim alleys of the crowded city 
 
 They enter, where the sunbeams never came ; 
 Unbidden guests, yet full of tender pity 
 For all earth’s bitter misery and shame. 
 
 And then despairing hearts look up and wonder 
 Whence came that sudden hope they feel within, 
 Bidding them rise and break their bonds asunder 
 Those heavy fetters forged by want and sin. 
 
 The angels sing of holy aspirations, 
 
 Of pure and happy things, of better times ; 
 
 Until the soul is stirr’d by strange vibrations, 
 
 That seem as if they came from Christmas chimes. 
 
 And new desires, to resolutions growing, 
 
 Are slowly shaped and fashion’d into form j 
 Till frozen hearts become all warm and glowing, 
 
 And gain fresh strength to battle with the storm. 
 
 In the vast minster, where the anthems olden 
 In glorious waves of music ebb and flow— 
 
 Those voices from ‘Jerusalem the Golden,’ 
 
 Are singing ever with the Church below. 
 
 And in the rustic church that rises lowly 
 Amid encircling hills or woodlands dim, 
 
 The simple song of gratitude is holy, 
 
 For angels join the poor man s Christmas hymn. 
 
 Those humble walls can boast no sculptured splen¬ 
 dour, 
 
 Yet is the hallelujah just as sweet; 
 
 For angels and archangels sing, and render 
 The feeble notes all perfect and complete. 
 
 And we of them their gentle tones may borrow, 
 While this old world is full of grief and wrong ; 
 The word of sympathy in time of sorrow 
 Is pure and precious as an angel’s song. 
 
 And loving lips, which faithfully endeavour 
 
 To speak their Lord’s glad tidings far and near— 
 The old, old story, that is new for ever— 
 
 Oh these are breathing heaven’s own music here! 
 
CHURCH 
 
 103 
 
 CHURCH 
 
 505. CHURCH. Conduct in 
 
 When once thy foot enters the church, be bare. 
 
 God is more there than thou : for thou art there 
 Only by His permission. Then beware, 
 
 And make thyself all reverence and fear. 
 
 Kneeling ne’er spoil’d silk stockings : quit thy 
 state,— 
 
 All equal are within the church’s gate. 
 
 Let vain or busy thoughts have there no part : 
 
 Bring not thy plough, thy plots, thy pleasures thither. 
 Lhrist purged His temple, so must thou thy heart. 
 All worldly thoughts are but thieves met together 
 To cozen thee. Look to thy actions well : 
 
 For churches either are our Heaven or Hell ! 
 
 George Herbert. 
 
 506. CHURCH. Death in the 
 
 Many there are and dry, 
 
 Spread through the open vale, 
 
 Millions of lifeless souls they lie 
 Within the Christian pale. 
 
 1 pass the churches through, 
 
 The scatter’d bones I see, 
 
 And Christendom appears in view 
 A hideous Calvary ! 
 
 507. CHURCH : the devil’s chapel. 
 
 God never had a house of prayer 
 But Satan had a chapel there.— De Foe. 
 
 508. CHURCH. A fashionable 
 
 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 ; 
 
 N'ot 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 glits and gleams, 
 
 Where tinted light magnificently streams 
 Dn the proud pulpit, carved with quaint device, 
 Where velvet cushions, exquisitely nice, 
 
 Press’d by the polish’d preacher’s dainty hands, 
 
 Plold a large volume clasp’d by golden bands. 
 
 Park. 
 
 509. CHURCH. The first 
 
 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. 
 
 510. CHURCH : is to be found everywhere. 
 
 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. 
 
 511. CHURCH. How God is building the 
 
 Whence came of old those goodly stones ’twas 
 Israel’s pride to raise, 
 
 The glory of the former house, the joy of ancient 
 days ; 
 
 In purity and strength erect, in radiant splendour 
 bright, 
 
 Sparkling with golden beams of noon, or silver 
 smiles of night ? 
 
 From coasts the stately cedar crowns, each noble slab 
 was brought, 
 
 In Lebanon’s deep quarries hewn, and on its moun¬ 
 tains wrought; 
 
 There rung the hammer’s heavy stroke among the 
 echoing rocks, 
 
 There chased the chisel’s keen, sharp edge, the rude, 
 unshapen blocks. 
 
 Thence polish’d, perfected, complete, each fitted to 
 its place, 
 
 For lofty coping, massive wall, or deep imbedded 
 base, 
 
 They bore them o’er the waves that roll’d their 
 billowy swell between 
 
 The shores of Tyre’s imperial pride and Judah’s 
 hills of green. 
 
 With gradual toil the work went on, through days 
 and months and years, 
 
 Beneath the summer’s laughing sun, and winter’s 
 frozen tears ; 
 
 And thus in majesty sublime and noiseless pomp it 
 rose, 
 
 Fit dwelling for the God of Peace ! a temple of 
 repose ! 
 
 Brethren in Christ! to holier things the simple type 
 apply; 
 
 Our God Himself a temple builds, eternal and on 
 high, 
 
 Of souls elect ; their Zion there —that world of light 
 and bliss ; 
 
 Their Lebanon — the place of toil — of previous 
 moulding— this. 
 
 From nature’s quarries, deep and dark, with gracious 
 aim He hews 
 
 The stones, the spiritual stones, it pleaseth Him to 
 choose: 
 
CHURCH 
 
 104 
 
 CHURCH 
 
 Hard, rugged, shapeless at the first, yet destined 
 each to shine, 
 
 Moulded beneath His patient hand in purity Divine. 
 
 Oh, glorious process ! see the proud grow lowly, 
 gentle, meek ; 
 
 See floods of unaccustom’d tears gush down the 
 
 * 
 
 harden’d cheek: 
 
 Perchance the hammer’s heavy stroke o’erthrew 
 some idol fond ; 
 
 Perchance the chisel rent in twain some precious, 
 tender bond. 
 
 Behold he prays whose lips were seal’d in silent 
 scorn before ; 
 
 Sighs for the closet’s holy calm, and hails the wel¬ 
 come door ; 
 
 Behold he works for Jesus now, whose days went 
 idly past: 
 
 Oh! for more mouldings of the hand that works a 
 change so vast! 
 
 Ye look’d on one, a well-wrought stone, a saint 
 of God matured,— 
 
 What chisellings that heart had felt, what chasten¬ 
 ing strokes endured ! 
 
 But mark’d ye not that last soft touch, what perfect 
 grace it gave, 
 
 Ere Jesus bore His servant home, across the dark¬ 
 some wave ? 
 
 Home to the place His grace design’d that chosen 
 soul to fill, 
 
 In the bright temple of the saved, ‘ upon His holy 
 hill; ’ 
 
 Home to the noiselessness, the peace of those sweet 
 shrines above, 
 
 Whose stones shall never be displaced—set in re¬ 
 deeming love. 
 
 Lord, chisel, chasten, polish us, each blemish work 
 away, 
 
 Cleanse us with purifying blood, in spotless robes 
 array ; 
 
 And thus, Thine image on us stamp’d, transport us 
 to the shore, 
 
 Where not a stroke was ever felt, for none is needed 
 more. 
 
 512. CHURCH. The: a Lighthouse. 
 
 The light-house founded on a rock, 
 
 Casts o’er the flood its radiant eye, 
 
 Firm amidst ocean’s heaviest shock, 
 
 Serene beneath the stormiest sky. 
 
 Though winds and waters rage and foam, 
 
 Though darkness lowers like Egypt’s night, 
 
 Here peace and safety find a home; 
 
 In this small Goshen there is light. 
 
 Nor for itself it stands alone ; 
 
 The seaman’s friend, it shines from far, 
 
 As though an angel from the throne 
 Came down to be his leading star. 
 
 It warns to shun the breakers near, 
 
 Smooth into port the vessel guides, 
 
 Points where a wider course to steer, 
 
 Shows how to ’scape conflicting tides. 
 
 Thus built upon eternal truth, / 
 
 High in mid-heaven, o’er land and sea, 
 
 Christ’s Church holds forth to age and youth 
 A beacon and a sanctuary.— James Montgomery. 
 
 513. CHURCH: neglected. 
 
 Seldom at church, ’twas such a busy life ; 
 
 But duly sent his family and wife.— Pope. 
 
 514. CHURCH. Peril of the 
 
 Watch ! watch ! the subtle peril threats 
 The freedom of the bride ; 
 
 The foe, unweary, ne’er forgets 
 His spirit-snares to hide. 
 
 The watchman on the walls can guard 
 While marshall’d armies wait; 
 
 But vain are sleepless watch and ward, 
 
 If treason opes the gate. 
 
 To arms! the martial shout prolong, 
 
 Unfurl the flag again ; 
 
 Give battle to the false and wrong ; 
 
 God needeth earnest men. 
 
 IV. Morley Punshon. 
 
 515. CHURCH. Pride at 
 
 Some go to church, proud humbly to repent, 
 
 And then come back more guilty than they went: 
 One way they look, another way they steer, 
 
 Pray to the gods, but would have mortals hear; 
 And when their sins they set sincerely down, 
 They’ll find that their religion has been one. 
 
 Young. 
 
 516. CHURCH. Redemption of the 
 
 A little flock ! Yes, even so ; 
 
 A handful among men : 
 
 Such is the purpose of thy God ; 
 
 So willeth He ; Amen ! 
 
 Not many rich or noble call’d, 
 
 Not many great or wise ; 
 
 They whom Cod makes His kings and priests 
 Are poor in human eyes. 
 
CHURCH 
 
 105 
 
 CHURCHYARD 
 
 A little flock ! ’Tis well, ’tis well 3 
 Such be her lot and name ; 
 
 Through ages past it has been so, 
 
 And now ’tis still the same. 
 
 But the chief Shepherd comes at length, 
 Her feeble days are o’er ; 
 
 No more a handful in the earth, 
 
 A little flock no more. 
 
 No more a lily among thorns ; 
 
 Weary, and faint, and few, 
 
 But countless as the stars of heaven, 
 
 Or as the early dew. 
 
 Then entering the eternal halls, 
 
 In robes of victory, 
 
 That mighty multitude shall keep 
 The joyous jubilee. 
 
 Unfading palms they bear aloft, 
 Unfaltering songs they sing ; 
 
 Unending festival they keep, 
 
 In presence of the King !— Bonar. 
 
 517. CHURCH. Spread of the 
 
 The Banyan of the Indian isle 
 
 Strikes deeply down its massive root, 
 
 And spreads its branching life abroad, 
 And bends to earth with scarlet fruit; 
 
 But when the branches reach the ground, 
 They firmly plant themselves again : 
 
 They rise and spread and droop and root, 
 An ever-green and endless chain. 
 
 And so the Church of Jesus Christ, 
 
 The blessed Banyan of our God, 
 
 Fast-rooted upon Zion’s mount, 
 
 Has sent its sheltering arms abroad ; 
 
 And every branch that from it springs, 
 
 In sacred beauty spreading wide, 
 
 As low it bends to bless the earth, 
 
 Still plants another by its side. 
 
 Long as the world itself shall last, 
 
 The sacred Banyan still shall spread; 
 
 From clime to clime, from age to age, 
 
 Its sheltering shadow shall be shed. 
 
 Nations shall seek its pillar’d shade, 
 
 Its leaves shall for their healing be: 
 
 The circling flood that feeds its life, 
 
 The blood that crimson’d Calvary. 
 
 518. CHURCH. Stability of the 
 
 Oh where are kings and empires now, 
 
 Of old that went and came ? 
 
 But, Lord, Thy Church is praying yet, 
 
 A thousand years the same. 
 
 We mark her goodly battlements, 
 
 And her foundations strong ; 
 
 We hear within the solemn voice 
 Of her unending song. 
 
 For not like kingdoms of the world 
 Thy holy Church, O God ! 
 
 Though earthquake shocks are threat’ning her, 
 And tempests are abroad ; 
 
 Unshaken as eternal hills, 
 
 Immovable she stands, 
 
 A mountain that shall fill the earth, 
 
 A house not made with hands.— A. C. Coxe. 
 
 519. CHURCH OF ROME: her claims. 
 
 They would assume, with wondrous art, 
 Themselves to be the whole who are but part 
 Of that vast frame the Church ; yet grant they were 
 The handers down, can they from thence infer 
 A right t’ interpret ? Or would they alone, 
 
 Who brought the present, claim it for their own ? 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 520. CHURCH-YARD : the place where all men 
 
 are equal. 
 
 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 proud 
 Resigns his power, the miser drops his hoard ; 
 Where human folly sleeps.— Dyer. 
 
 521. CHURCH-YARD. The village 
 
 Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree’s shade, 
 Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap, 
 Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, 
 
 The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. 
 
 The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, 
 
 The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, 
 The cock’s shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, 
 
 No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. 
 
 For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, 
 
 Or busy housewife ply her evening care ; 
 
 No children run to lisp their sire’s return, 
 
 Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share. 
 
 Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, 
 
 Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke ; 
 How jocund did they drive their team afield ! 
 
 How bow’d the woods beneath their sturdy stroke ! 
 
 Let not ambition mock their useful toil, 
 
 Their homely joys and destiny obscure ; 
 
 Nor grandeur hear with a disdainful smile 
 The short and simple annals of the poor. 
 
CHURCHYARD 
 
 106 
 
 CITIZENS 
 
 The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, 
 
 And all that beauty, all that wealth e’er gave, 
 
 Await alike the inevitable hour ; 
 
 The paths of glory lead but to the grave. 
 
 Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault 
 If memory o’er their tomb no trophies raise, 
 
 Where, through the long-drawn aisle and fretted 
 vault, 
 
 The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. 
 
 Can storied urn, or animated bust, 
 
 Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ? 
 
 Can honour’s voice provoke the silent dust, 
 
 Or flattery soothe the dull, cold ear of death ? 
 
 Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid 
 
 Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire ; 
 
 Hands that the rod of empire might have sway’d, 
 
 Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre ; 
 
 But knowledge to their eyes her ample page, 
 
 Rich with the spoils of time, did ne’er unroll; 
 
 Chill penury repress’d their noble rage, 
 
 And froze the genial current of the soul. 
 
 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 fragrance on the desert air. 
 
 Some village Hampden, that, with dauntless breast, 
 The little tyrant of his fields withstood ; 
 
 Some mute, inglorious Milton heie may rest , 
 
 Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country’s blood. 
 
 The applause of listening senates to command, 
 
 The threats of pain and ruin to despise, 
 
 To scatter plenty o’er a smiling land, 
 
 And read their history in a nation’s eyes. 
 
 Their lot forbade ; nor circumscribed alone 
 
 Their growing virtues, but their crimes confined ; 
 
 Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, 
 
 And shut the gates of mercy on mankind ; 
 
 The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide, 
 
 To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame, 
 
 Or heap the shrine of luxury and pride 
 With incense kindled at the muse’s flame. 
 
 Far from the madding crowd’s ignoble strife, 
 
 Their sober wishes never learn’d to stray ; 
 
 Along the cool, sequester’d vale of life 
 
 They kept the noiseless tenor of their way. 
 
 Yet ev’n these bones from insult to protect, 
 
 Some frail memorial still erected nigh, 
 
 With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture deck’d, 
 Implores the passing tribute of a sigh. 
 
 Their name, their years, spelt by the unletter’d muse, 
 The place of fame and elegy supply ; 
 
 And many a holy text around she strews, 
 
 That teach the rustic moralist to die. 
 
 For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, 
 
 • This pleasing, anxious being e’er resign’d, 
 
 Left the warm precints of the cheerful day, 
 
 Nor cast one longing, lingering look behind? 
 
 On some fond breast the parting soul relies, 
 
 Some pious drops the closing eye requires ; 
 
 E’en from the tomb the voice of Nature cries, 
 
 E’en in our ashes live their wonted fires.— Gray. 
 
 522. 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.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Bear your wrongs conceal’d, 
 
 And patient as the tortoise ; let this camel 
 
 Stalk o’er your back unbruised : sleep with the 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. 
 
 523. CITIZENS. 
 
 These base mechanics never keep their words 
 In anything they promise. ’Tis their trade 
 To swear and break ; they all grow rich by break inf 
 More than their words; their honesties and credits 
 Are still the first commodities they put off.— Jonson 
 
 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. 
 
 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 power, 
 
 The same thing right and wrong in half an hour ; 
 Now all is well, now he suspects a plot, 
 
 And plainly proves whatever is—is not : 
 
Cl VILIZA LION 
 
 107 
 
 CLOSET 
 
 earfully wise, he shakes his empty head, 
 nd deals out empires as he deals out thread ; 
 is useless scales are in a corner flung, 
 nd Europe’s balance hangs upon his tongue. 
 
 Churchill . 
 
 fiburban villas, highway-side retreats, 
 
 hat dread th’ encroachment of our growing streets, 
 
 ight boxes, neatly sash’d, and in a blaze 
 
 r ith all a July’s sun’s collected rays, 
 
 elight the citizen, who gasping there 
 
 reathes clouds of dust, and calls it country air. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 524. CIVILIZATION. Triumph of 
 
 There’s a good time coming, boys, 
 
 A good time coming ; 
 
 We may not live to see the day, 
 
 But earth shall glisten in the ray 
 Of the good time coming. 
 
 Cannon balls may aid the truth, 
 
 But thought’s a weapon stronger ; 
 
 We'll win the battle by its aid— 
 
 Wait a little longer. 
 
 There’s a good time coming, boys, 
 
 A good time coming ; 
 
 The pen shall supersede the sword, 
 
 And Right, not Might, shall be the lord, 
 
 In the good time coming. 
 
 Worth, not Birth, shall rule mankind, 
 
 And be acknowledged stronger ; 
 
 The proper impulse has been given ; 
 
 Wait a little longer. 
 
 There’s a good time coming, boys, 
 
 A good time coming ; 
 
 War in all men’s eyes shall be 
 
 A monster of iniquity 
 
 In the good time coming. 
 
 Nations shall not quarrel then, 
 
 To prove which is the stronger ; 
 
 Nor slaughter men for glory’s sake : 
 
 Wait a little longer. 
 
 There’s a good time coming, boys, 
 
 A good time coming ; 
 
 Hateful rivalries of creed 
 
 Shall not make their martyrs bleed 
 In the good time coming. 
 
 Religion shall be shorn of pride, 
 
 And flourish all the stronger ; 
 
 And Charity shall trim her lamp : 
 
 Wait a little longer. 
 
 There’s a good time coming, boys, 
 
 A good time coming ; 
 
 Let us aid it all we can— 
 
 Every woman, every man— 
 
 The good time coming. 
 
 Smallest helps, if rightly given, 
 
 Make the impulse stronger ; 
 
 ’Twill be strong enough one day ; 
 
 Wait a little longer.— Mackay. 
 
 525. CLERGYMEN. 
 
 Is not the care of souls a load sufficient ? 
 
 1 Are not your holy stipends paid for this ? 
 
 I Were you not bred apart from worldly noise 
 ! To study souls, their cures, and their diseases ? 
 i 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.— Drydtn. 
 
 Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, 
 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. 
 
 Nor e’er had changed nor wish’d to change his place ; 
 Unskilful he to fawn, or seek for power, 
 
 By doctrines fashion’d to the varying hour ; 
 
 Far other aims his heart had learn’d to prize, 
 
 More bent to raise the wretched than to rise. 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 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. 
 
 526. CLOSET. Waiting in the 
 
 Lord, I have shut my door,— 
 
 Shut out life’s busy cares and fretting noise : 
 
 Here in this silence they intrude no more. 
 
 Speak Thou, and heavenly joys 
 Shall fill my heart with music sweet and calm, 
 
 A holy psalm. 
 
 Yes, I have shut my door 
 Even on all the beauty of Thine earth,— 
 
 To its blue ceiling from its emerald floor, 
 
 Fill’d with spring’s bloom and mirth: 
 
 From these Thy works I turn, Thyself I seek, 
 
 To Thee I speak. 
 
 And I have shut my door 
 On earthly passion,—all its yearning love, 
 
 Its tender friendships, all the priceless store 
 Of human ties. Above 
 All these my heart aspires, O Heart Divine ! 
 
 ; Stoop Thou to mine. 
 
COMFORT 
 
 COMET 108 
 
 Lord, I have shut my door ! 
 
 Come Thou and visit me : I am alone ! 
 
 Come, as when doors were shut Thou cam’st of yore, 
 And visitedst Thine own. 
 
 My Lord ! I kneel with reverent love and fear ; 
 
 For Thou art here !— Alary E . Atkinson. 
 
 527. COMET. 
 
 Lone traveller through the fields of air, 
 
 What may thy presence here portend ? 
 
 Art come to greet the planets fair, 
 
 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.— Airs Hale. 
 
 528. COMFORT. Common 
 
 There is a heaven yet to rest my soul on 
 In the midst of all unhappiness, which I look on 
 With the same comfort as a distressed seaman 
 Afar off views the coast he would enjoy, 
 
 When yet the seas do toss his reeling bark 
 ! Twixt hope and danger.— Shirley. 
 
 529. COMFORT. Experience of 
 
 I’ve found a joy in sorrow, 
 
 A secret balm for pain, 
 
 A beautiful to-morrow 
 Of sunshine after rain. 
 
 I’ve found a branch of healing 
 Near every bitter spring ; 
 
 A whisper’d promise stealing 
 O’er every broken string. 
 
 I’ve found a glad hosanna 
 For every woe and wail, 
 
 A handful of sweet manna 
 
 When grapes from Eshcol fail. 
 
 I’ve found a Rock of Ages 
 When desert wells were dry ; 
 
 And, after weary stages, 
 
 I’ve found an Elim nigh,— 
 
 An Elim, with its coolness, 
 
 Its fountains, and its shade ! 
 
 A blessing in its fulness, 
 
 When buds of promise fade ! 
 
 O’er tears of soft contrition, 
 
 I’ve seen a rainbow light; 
 
 A glory and fruition, 
 
 So near !—yet out of sight. 
 
 My Saviour ! Thee possessing, 
 
 I have the joy, the balm, 
 
 The healing and the blessing, 
 
 The sunshine and the psalm ! 
 
 The promise for the fearful, 
 
 The Elim for the faint, 
 
 The rainbow for the tearful, 
 
 The glory for the saint.— Jane Crewdson. 
 
 . 530. COMFORT : how it is to be obtained. 
 
 Is thy cruse of comfort failing? rise and share it 
 with another, 
 
 And through all the years of famine it shall serve 
 thee and thy brother. 
 
 Love Divine will fill the storehouse, or thy handful 
 still renew; 
 
 Scanty fare for one will often make a royal feast for 
 two. 
 
 For the heart grows rich in giving ; all its wealth is 
 living gain ; 
 
 Seeds, which mildew in the gamer, scatter'd, fill 
 with gold the plain. 
 
 Is thy burden hard and heavy ? do thy steps drag 
 wearily ? 
 
 Help to bear thy brother’s burden ; God will bear 
 both it and thee. 
 
 Numb and weary on the mountains, wouldst thou 
 sleep amidst the snow ? 
 
 Chafe that frozen form beside thee, and together 
 both shall glow. 
 
 Art thou stricken in life’s battle ? many wounded 
 round thee moan ; 
 
 Lavish on their wounds thy balsams, and that balm 
 shall heal thine own. 
 
 Is the heart a well left empty ? None but God its 
 void can fill; 
 
 Nothing but a ceaseless Fountain can its ceaseless 
 longings fill ; 
 
 Is the heart a living power? Self-entwined, its 
 strength sinks low ; 
 
 It can only live in loving, and by serving love will 
 grow.— Mrs Charles. 
 
 531. COMFORT. Prayer for 
 
 Speak low to me, my Saviour, low and sweet, 
 From out the hallelujahs sweet and low, 
 
 Lest I should fear and fall, and miss Thee so, 
 Who art not miss’d by any that entreat. 
 
 Speak to me as to Mary at Thy feet,— 
 
 And if no precious gums my hands bestow, 
 
 Let my tears drop like amber, while I go 
 In reach of Thy Divinest voice complete 
 In humanest affection,—thus, in sooth, 
 
 To lose the sense of losing ! As a child, 
 
CO MM END A TION 
 
 COMFORT 109 
 
 Whose song-bird seeks the wood for evermore, 
 
 Is sung to in its stead by mother’s mouth ; 
 
 Till, sinking on her breast, love-reconciled, 
 
 He sleeps the faster that he wept before. 
 
 E. B. Browning. 
 
 532. COMFORT. Source of 
 
 4 
 
 Is it not strange, the darkest hour 
 That ever dawn’d on sinful earth 
 Should touch the heart with softer power 
 For comfort, than an angel’s mirth? 
 
 That to the Cross the mourner’s eye should turn 
 Sooner than where the stars of Christmas burn ? 
 
 Sooner than where the Easter sun 
 Shines glorious on yon open grave, 
 
 And to and fro the tidings run, 
 
 * Who died to heal, is risen to save ? ’ 
 
 Sooner than where upon the Saviour’s friends 
 The very Comforter in light and love descends ? 
 
 Yet so it is : for duly there 
 
 The bitter herbs of earth are set, 
 
 Till temper’d by the Saviour’s prayer 
 And with the Saviour’s life-blood wet, 
 
 They turn to sweetness, and drop holy balm, 
 
 Soft as imprison’d martyr’s death-bed calm. 
 
 Keble. 
 
 533. COMFORT. Vain 
 
 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. 
 
 Davenant. 
 
 534. COMING TO CHRIST: what does it 
 
 secure for us ? 
 
 ; Sometimes I catch sweet glimpses of His face, 
 But that is all. 
 
 Sometimes He looks on me, and seems to smile, 
 But that is all. 
 
 ' Sometimes He speaks a parting word of peace, 
 But that is all. 
 
 Sometimes I think I hear His loving voice 
 Upon me call. 
 
 And is this all He meant, when thus He spoke, 
 
 ‘ Come unto me ’? 
 
 Is there no deeper, more enduring rest 
 In Him for thee? 
 
 Is there no steadier light for thee in Him? 
 
 O, come and see! 
 
 Nay, do not wrong Him by thy heavy thoughts, 
 But love His love. 
 
 Do thou full justice to His tenderness, 
 
 His mercy prove ; 
 
 Take Him for what He is ; oh, take Him all, 
 
 And look above ! 
 
 Then shall thy tossing soul find anchorage 
 And steadfast peace ; 
 
 Thy love shall rest on His, thy doubts 
 For ever cease. 
 
 Thy heart shall find in Him and in His grace 
 Its rest and bliss ! 
 
 Christ and His love shall be thy blessed all 
 For evermore ! 
 
 Christ and His light shall shine on all thy ways 
 For evermore ! 
 
 Christ and His peace shall keep thy troubled soul 
 For evermore ! 
 
 535. COMMENDATION. 
 
 Praise a fool, and slay him ; for the canvas of his 
 vanity is spread ; 
 
 His bark is shallow in the water, and a sudden gust 
 shall sink it: 
 
 Praise a wise man and speed him on his way ; for 
 he carrieth the ballast of humility, 
 
 And is glad when his course is cheered by the 
 sympathy of brethren ashore. 
 
 The praise of a good man is good, for he holdeth 
 up the mirror of Truth, 
 
 That Virtue may see her own beauty, and delight 
 in her own fair face : 
 
 The praise of a bad man is evil, for he hideth the 
 deformity of Vice, 
 
 Casting the mantle of a queen around the limbs of 
 a leper. 
 
 Praise is rebuke to the man whose conscience allow - 
 eth it not: 
 
 And where Conscience feeleth it her due, no praise 
 is better than a little. 
 
 He that despiseth the outward appearance, de- 
 spiseth the esteem of his fellows ; 
 
 And he that overmuch regardeth it, shall earn only 
 their contempt: 
 
 The honest commendation of an equal no one can 
 scorn and be blameless, 
 
 Yet even that fair fame no one can hunt for and be 
 honoured: 
 
 If it come, accept it and be thankful, and be thou 
 humble in accepting ; 
 
 If it tarry, be not thou cast down : the bee can 
 gather honey out of me. 
 
 With a friend, praise him when thou canst; for 
 many a friendship hath decayed, 
 
CO MM ENT A TORS 
 
 i 
 
 Like a plant in a crowded corner, for want of sun¬ 
 shine on its leaves : 
 
 With another praise him not often,—otherwise he 
 shall despise thee; 
 
 But be thou frugal in commending ; so will he give 
 honour to thy judgment. 
 
 Wilt thou that one remember a thing ?—praise him 
 in the midst of thy advice. 
 
 Expect not praise from the mean, neither gratitude 
 from the selfish.— Tupper. 
 
 536. COMMENTATORS. 
 
 Commentators each dark passage shun, 
 
 And hold their farthing candle to the sun. 
 
 Young. 
 
 537. COMMUNION. Divine 
 
 They know, who thus oppress me, 
 
 ’Tis hard to be alone ; 
 
 But know not One can bless me, 
 
 Who comes through bars and stone ; 
 
 He makes my dungeon’s darkness bright, 
 
 And fills my bosom with delight. 
 
 Thy love, O God ! restores me 
 From sighs and tears to praise ; 
 
 And deep my soul adores Thee, 
 
 Nor thinks of time or place: 
 
 I ask no more, in good or ill, 
 
 But union with Thy holy will. 
 
 ’Tis that which makes my treasure, 
 
 ’Tis that which brings my gain ; 
 
 Converting woe to pleasure, 
 
 And reaping joy from pain. 
 
 Oh, ’tis enough, whate’er befall, 
 
 To know that God is All in all. 
 
 Madame Guy on, tr. by T. C. Upham. 
 
 538. COMMUNION. Example of 
 
 It happen’d on a solemn eventide, 
 
 Soon after He that was our Surety died, 
 
 Two bosom friends, each pensively inclined, 
 
 The scene of all those sorrows left behind ; 
 
 Sought their own village, busied as they went 
 In musings worthy of the great event; 
 
 They spake of Him they loved, of Him whose life, 
 Though blameless, had incurr’d perpetual strife, 
 Whose deeds had left, in spite of hostile arts, 
 
 A deep memorial graven on their hearts. 
 
 The recollection, like a vein of ore. 
 
 The further traced, enrich’d them still the more ; 
 They thought Him, and they justly thought Him, One 
 Sent to do more than He appear’d t’ have done ; 
 
 To exalt a people, and to place them high 
 Above all else, and wonder’d He should die. 
 
 COMMUNION 
 
 Ere yet they brought their journey to an end, 
 
 A stranger join’d them, courteous as a friend, 
 
 And ask’d them with a kind, engaging air, 
 
 What their affliction was, and begg’d a share. 
 Inform’d, He gather’d up the broken thread, 
 
 And, truth and wisdom gracing all He said, 
 Explain’d, illustrated, and search’d so well 
 The tender theme on which they chose to dwell, 
 That reaching home, The night, they said, is near, 
 We must not now be parted, sojourn here.— 
 
 The new acquaintance soon became a guest, 
 
 | And, made so welcome at their simple feast, 
 
 He bless’d the bread, but vanish’d at the word, 
 
 I And left them both exclaiming, ‘’Twas the Lord ! 
 j Did not our hearts feel all He deign’d to say ! 
 j Did they not burn within us by the way ? ’ 
 
 | Now theirs was converse, such as it behoves 
 Man to maintain, and such as God approves; 
 Their views, indeed, were indistinct and dim, 
 
 But yet successful, being aim’d at Him, 
 
 Christ and His character their only scope, 
 
 Their object, and their subject, and their hope, 
 They felt what it became them much to feel, 
 
 And, wanting Him to loose the sacred seal, 
 
 Found Him as prompt as their desire was true, 
 
 To spread the new-born glories in their view. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 539. COMMUNION. Key to 
 
 He stands and knocks, and bids me ope the door, 
 Without He stands, and asks to enter in : 
 
 Why should He seek a shelter sad with sin ? 
 Will He but knock and ask, and nothing more ? 
 
 He knows what ways I take to shut my heart, 
 
 And if He will He can Himself undo 
 My foolish fastenings, or by force break through, 
 Nor wait till I fulfil my needless part. 
 
 But nay, He will not choose to enter so,— 
 
 He will not be my guest without consent, 
 
 Nor though I say * Come in,’ is He content; 
 
 I must arise and ope, or He will go. 
 
 He shall not go ; I do arise and ope,— 
 
 ‘ Come in, dear Lord, come in and sup with me, 
 Oh, blessed Guest, and let me sup with Thee,’- 
 Where is the door ? for in this dark I grope, 
 
 And cannot find it soon enough ; my hand, 
 
 Shut hard, holds fast the one sure key I need, 
 And trembles, shaken with its eager heed ; 
 
 No other key will answer my demand. 
 
 The door between is some command undone, 
 Obedience is the key that slides the bar, 
 
 And lets Him in, who stands so near, so far; 
 The doors are many, but the key is one. — Wilkinsi 
 
 I 
 

 COMPANIONS 
 
 111 
 
 COMPLAINT 
 
 540. COMPANIONS. Choice of 
 
 )T with the light and vain, 
 
 The man of idle feet and wanton eyes ; 
 
 )t with the world’s gay, ever-smiling train ; 
 
 My lot be with the grave and wise. 
 
 )t with the trifler gay, 
 
 To whom life seems but sunshine on the wave ; 
 
 >t with the empty idler of the day ; 
 
 My lot be with the wise and grave. 
 
 >t with the jesting fool, 
 
 I Who knows not what to sober truth is due, 
 hose words fly out without or aim or rule ! 
 
 My lot be with the wise and true. 
 
 >t with the man of dreams, 
 
 [n whose bright words no truth nor wisdom lies, 
 .zzling the fervent youth with mystic gleams ; 
 
 My lot be with the simply wise. 
 
 ith them I’d walk each day, 
 
 From them time’s solemn lessons would I learn, 
 at false from true and true from false I may 
 Each hour more patiently discern.— Bonar. 
 
 541. COMPANY. Choice of 
 
 Some love the glow of outward show, 
 
 Some love mere wealth and try to win it; 
 
 The house to me may lowly be, 
 
 If I but like the people in it. 
 
 What’s all the gold that glitters cold, 
 
 When link’d to hard or haughty feeling ? 
 Whate’er we’re told, the nobler gold 
 Is truth of heart and manly dealing ! 
 
 Then let them seek, whose minds are weak, 
 
 Mere fashion’s smile, and try to win it ; 
 
 The house to me may lowly be, 
 
 If I but like the people in it !—Charles Swain. 
 
 542. COMPANY. Vicious 
 
 I " T 0ID a villain as you would a brand, 
 hich, lighted, burns, extinguish’d, smuts the hand. 
 
 Oriental. 
 
 543. COMPENSATION. Law of 
 
 IE poor man counteth not the cost at which such 
 wealth hath been purchased ; 
 b would be on the mountain’s top without the toil 
 and travail of the climbing. 
 yd that would change with another, must take the 
 cup as it is mixed. 
 
 overty, with largeness of heart ; or a full purse, 
 with a sordid spirit : 
 
 Wisdom, in an ailing body ; or a common mind, 
 with health ; 
 
 Godliness, with man’s scorn; or the welcome of 
 the mighty, with guilt; 
 
 Beauty, with a fickle heart; or plainness of face, 
 with affection. 
 
 For so hath Providence determined, that a man 
 shall not easily discover 
 
 Unmingled good or evil, to quicken his envy or 
 abhorrence. 
 
 A bold man or a fool must he be, who would change 
 his lot with another. 
 
 It were a fearful bargain, and mercy hath lovingly 
 refused it. — Tupper. 
 
 544. COMPENSATION. Moral 
 
 Just, and strong, and opportune, is the moral rule 
 of God ; 
 
 Ripe in its times, firm in its judgments, equal in 
 the measure of its gifts. 
 
 Yet men, scanning the surface, count the wicked 
 happy, 
 
 Nor heed the compensating peace which gladdeneth 
 the good in his afflictions. 
 
 They see not the frightful dreams that crowd a bad 
 man’s pillow ; 
 
 They know not the torturing suspicions that sting 
 his panting breast, 
 
 When the clear eye of penetration quietly readeth 
 off the truth. 
 
 Likewise of the good what know they ? the memories 
 bringing pleasure, 
 
 Shrined in the heart of the benevolent and glistening 
 from his eye. 
 
 The calm, self-justifying reason that establisheth the 
 upright in his purpose ; 
 
 The warm and gushing bliss that floodeth all the 
 thoughts of the religious. — Tupper. 
 
 545. COMPENSATION : required. 
 
 Nothing comes free-cost here. Jove will not let 
 
 His gifts go from him, if not bought with sweat. 
 
 Robert Herrick. 
 
 546. COMPLAINT: a trial of the Divine 
 
 patience. 
 
 I SOMETIMES think God’s tender heart must ache, 
 List’ning to all the sad complaining cries, 
 
 That from our weak, impatient souls arise— 
 Because we do not see that for our sake, 
 
 He answers not, or answers otherwise 
 Than seems the best to our tear-blinded eyes. 
 
 This is Love’s hardest task, to do hard things 
 For Love’s own sake, then bear the murmurings 
 
 
COMPLAINT 
 
 112 
 
 CONDEMN A TION 
 
 Of Ignorance, too dull to judge aright, 
 
 The love that rises to this wondrous height. 
 
 He knows we have not yet attain d ; and so 
 He wearies not, but bears complaint and moan, 
 
 And shields each willing heart against His own, 
 Knowing that some glad day we too shall know. 
 
 Carlotta Perry. 
 
 547. COMPLAINT: brings no relief. 
 
 To tell thy mis’ries will no comfort breed; 
 
 Men help thee most that think thou hast no need ; 
 
 But if the world once thy misfortunes know, 
 
 Thou soon shalt lose a friend and find a foe. 
 
 Randolph. 
 
 548. COMPLAINT : cowardly. 
 
 I THINK we are too ready with complaint 
 In this fair world of God’s. Had we no hope 
 Indeed beyond the zenith and the slope 
 Of yon grey bank of sky, we might be faint 
 To muse upon eternity s constraint 
 Round our aspirant souls. But if the scope 
 Must widen early, is it well to droop 
 For a few days consumed in loss and taint ? 
 
 O pusillanimous Heart, be comforted, 
 
 And, like a cheerful traveller, take the road, 
 
 Singing beside the hedge. What if the bread 
 Be bitter in the inn, and thou unshod 
 To meet the flints ?—At least it may be said, 
 
 ‘ Because the way is short , I thank Thee, God ! 
 
 E. B. Browning. 
 
 549. COMPLAINT : unwise. 
 
 I THINK if thou couldst know, 
 
 O soul that will complain, 
 
 What lies conceal’d below 
 Our burden and our pain ; 
 
 How just our anguish brings 
 Nearer those longed-for things 
 We seek for now in vain,— 
 
 I think thou wouldst rejoice, and not complain. 
 
 I think if thou couldst see, 
 
 With thy dim mortal sight, 
 
 How meanings dark to thee 
 Are shadows hiding light; 
 
 Truth’s efforts cross’d and vex’d, 
 
 Life-purpose all perplex’d, 
 
 If thou couldst see them right, 
 
 I think that they would seem all clear and wise and 
 bright. 
 
 And yet thou canst not know, 
 
 And yet thou canst not see ; 
 
 Wisdom and sight are slow 
 In poor humanity. 
 
 If thou couldst trust, poor soul, 
 
 In Him who rules the whole, 
 
 Thou wouldst find peace and rest; 
 Wisdom and right are well, but trust is best. 
 
 Adelaide Proctor. 
 
 550. COMPLIMENTS. 
 
 Throughout the world if it were sought, 
 Fair words enough a man shall find ; 
 
 They be got>d cheap, they cost right nought, 
 Their substance is but only wind; 
 
 But well to say and so to mean, 
 
 That sweet accord is seldom seen. 
 
 Wyatt. 
 
 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.— Nabb. 
 
 551. CONCEIT. 
 
 Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Drawn by conceit from reason’s plan, 
 
 How vain is that poor creature, man ! 
 
 How pleased is ev’ry paltry elf 
 To prate about that thing, himself. 
 
 Churchill. 
 
 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 Sterline. 
 
 552. CONCEITED MEN. 
 
 There are a sort of men, whose visages 
 Do cream and mantle like a standing pond; 
 And do a wilful stillness entertain, 
 
 With purpose to be dress’d in an opinion 
 Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit; 
 
 As who should say, ‘ I am Sir Oracle, 
 
 And, when I ope my lips, let no dog bark ! ’ 
 
 I do know of these, 
 
 That therefore only are reputed wise. 
 
 For saying nothing.— Shakespeare. 
 
 553. CONDEMNATION. Record of 
 
 And since in God’s recording book 
 Our sins are written, every one,— 
 
 The crime, the wrath, the wandering look, 
 The good we knew and left undone,— 
 
CONFESSION 
 
 CONSCIENCE 
 
 ii3 
 
 Lord, ere the last dread trump be heard, 
 
 And ere before Thy face we stand, 
 
 Look Thou on each accusing word, 
 
 And blot it with Thy bleeding hand. 
 
 C. F. Alexander. 
 
 554. CONFESSION : necessary. 
 
 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. 
 
 555. CONFESSION. Romish 
 
 A parent ask’d a Priest his boy to bless, 
 
 Who forthwith charged him—he must first confess. 
 ‘Well,’ said the boy, ‘suppose, sir, I am willing, 
 What is your charge?’ ‘ To you ’tis but a shilling!’ 
 ‘ Must all men pay, and all men make confession ? ’ 
 ‘Yes, every man of Catholic profession.’ 
 
 ‘ And who do you confess to? ’ ‘ Why, the Dean.’ 
 
 ‘ And do the Deans confess V ‘ Yes, boy, they do, 
 Confess to Bishops, and pay smartly too! ’ 
 
 ‘ Do Bishops, sir, confess ? if so, to whom ? ’ 
 
 ‘ Why, they do confess, and pay the Church of Rome. ’ 
 ‘ Well,’ quoth the boy, ‘ all this is mighty odd : 
 
 And does the Pope confess? ’ ‘ Oh yes, to God.’ 
 
 ‘And does God charge the Pope?’ ‘No,’ quoth 
 the Priest, 
 
 ‘ God charges nothing. ’ ‘ Oh, then God is best ;' 
 
 God is able to forgive,” and always willing ; 
 
 To Him I shall confess, and save my shilling.’ 
 
 556. CONFIDENCE. Christian 
 
 I know not if the dark or bright 
 Shall be my lot ; 
 
 If that wherein my soul delight 
 Be best or not. 
 
 It may be mine to drag for years 
 Toil’s heavy chain ; 
 
 Or day and night my meat be tears 
 On bed of pain. 
 
 Dear faces may surround my hearth 
 With smiles and glee ; 
 
 Or I may dwell alone, and mirth 
 Be strange to me. 
 
 My bark is wafted to the strand 
 By breath divine, 
 
 And on the helm there rests a hand 
 Other than mine. 
 
 One who has known in storms to sail 
 I have on board ; 
 
 Above the raging of the gale 
 I hear my Lord. 
 
 He holds me with the billow’s might— 
 
 I shall not fall ; 
 
 If sharp, ’tis short ; if long, ’tis light ; 
 
 He tempers all. 
 
 Safe to the land—safe to the land, 
 
 The end is this : 
 
 And then with Him go hand in hand 
 Far into bliss.— Alford. 
 
 557 * CONFIDENCE : reposed in a man. 
 
 I TOOK him for the plainest harmless’t creature, 
 That breathed upon the earth a Christian ; 
 
 Made him my book, wherein my soul recorded 
 The history of all my secret thoughts. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 558. CONSCIENCE. Attempts to bribe 
 
 Some scruple rose, but thus he eased his thought: 
 I’ll now give sixpence where I gave a groat; 
 
 Where once I went to church, I’ll now go twice, 
 And am so clear too of all other vice.— Pope. 
 
 559. CONSCIENCE. Diary of 
 
 O treacherous conscience ! while she seems to 
 sleep 
 
 On rose and myrtle, lull’d with syren song ! 
 
 While she seems, nodding o’er her charge, to drop 
 On headlong appetite the slacken’d rein, 
 
 And give us up to license, unrecall’d, 
 
 Unmark’d;—see, from behind her secret stand, 
 
 The sly informer minutes every fault, 
 
 And her dread diary with horror fills. 
 
 Not the gross act alone employs her pen : 
 
 She reconnoitres fancy’s airy band, 
 
 A watchful foe! The formidable spy, 
 
 Listening, o’erhears the whispers of our camp, 
 
 Our dawning purposes of heart explores, 
 
 And steals our embryos of iniquity. 
 
 As all-rapacious usurers conceal 
 Their doomsday-book from all-consuming heirs ; 
 Thus, with indulgence most severe, she treats 
 Us spendthrifts of inestimable time ; 
 
 Unnoted, notes each moment misapplied ; 
 
 In leaves more durable than leaves of brass 
 Writes our whole history ; which death shall read 
 In every pale delinquent’s private ear ; 
 
 And judgment publish—publish to more worlds 
 And this—and endless age in groans resound. 
 
 Young. 
 
 560. CONSCIENCE : and future judgment. 
 
 I SAT alone with my conscience, 
 
 In a place where time had ceased, 
 
 And we talk’d of my former living 
 
 In the land where the years increased. 
 
 8 
 
CONSCIENCE 
 
 CONSCIENCE 
 
 i4 
 
 And I felt I should have to answer 
 The question it put to me, 
 
 And to face the answer and question 
 Throughout an eternity. 
 
 The ghosts of forgotten actions 
 Came floating before my sight; 
 
 And things that I thought were dead tilings, 
 Were alive with a tenable might. 
 
 And the vision of all my past life 
 Was an awful thing to face, 
 
 Alone with my conscience sitting 
 In that solemnly silent place. 
 
 And I thought of my former tremblings, 
 
 Of the judgment-day to be, 
 
 But sitting alone with my conscience 
 Seem’d judgment enough for me. 
 
 And I wonder’d if there was a future 
 To this land beyond the grave ; 
 
 But no one gave me an answer, 
 
 And no one came to save. 
 
 Then I felt that the future was present, 
 
 And the present would never go by, 
 
 For it was but the thought of my past life 
 Grown into eternity. 
 
 Then I woke from my timely dreaming, 
 
 And the vision pass’d away, 
 
 And I knew the far-away warning 
 Was a warning of yesterday. 
 
 And I pray that I may not forget it, 
 
 In this land before the grave, 
 
 That I may not cry in the future, 
 
 And no one come to save. 
 
 So I sit alone with my conscience, 
 
 In the place where the years increase, 
 
 And I try to remember the future 
 In the land where time will cease. 
 
 And I know of the future judgment, 
 
 How dreadful soe’er it be, 
 
 That to sit alone with my conscience 
 Will be judgment enough for me. 
 
 IV. Stubbs. 
 
 561. CONSCIENCE. A good 
 
 What stronger breastplate 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. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 I know myself now, and I feel within me 
 A peace above all earthly dignities ; 
 
 A still and quiet conscience.— Shakespeare. 
 
 He that has light within his own clear breast 
 May sit i’ the centre, and enjoy bright day ; 
 
 But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts, 
 Benighted walks under the mid-day sun : 
 
 Himself is his own dungeon.— Milton. 
 
 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. 
 
 562. CONSCIENCE. A guilty 
 
 Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind : 
 
 The thief doth fear each bush an officer. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Not sharp revenge, nor hell itself, can find 
 A fiercer torment than a guilty mind, 
 
 Which day and night doth dreadfully accuse, 
 Condemns the wretch, and still the charge renews. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 First guilty conscience doth the mirror bring, 
 
 Then sharp remorse shoots out her angry sting; 
 
 And anxious thoughts, within themselves at stiife, 
 Upbraids the long misspent, luxurious life.— Dryden. 
 
 Here, here it lies ; a lump of lead by day ; 
 
 And in my short, distracted nightly slumbers, 
 
 The hag that rides my dreams.— Dryden. 
 
 Now guilt once harbour’d in the conscious breast 
 Intimidates the brave, degrades the great .—Johnson. 
 
 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. 
 
 Not all the glory, all the praise, 
 
 That decks the prosperous hero’s days, 
 
 The shout of men, the laurel crown, 
 
 The pealing echoes of renown, 
 
 May conscience’ dreadful sentence drown. 
 
 Mrs Holford. 
 
 None have accused thee ; ’tis thy conscience ciies, 
 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 harden’d heart, and bring 
 
 From out thy frozen soul the life of spiing. 
 
 Mrs Hale. 
 
CONSCIENCE 
 
 CONSCIENCE 
 
 US 
 
 563. CONSCIENCE : her restraining power. 
 
 For though the judge, Conscience, makes no show, 
 But silently to her dark session comes, 
 
 Not as red law does to arraignment go, 
 
 Or war to execution, with loud drums; 
 
 Though she on hills sets not her gibbets high, 
 
 Where frightful law sets hers ; nor bloody seems, 
 Like war in colours spread, yet secretly 
 She does her work, and many men condemns ; 
 
 Chokes in the seed what law, till ripe, ne’er sees ; 
 
 What law would punish, Conscience can prevent; 
 And so the world from many mischiefs frees ; 
 
 Known by her cures, as law by punishment. 
 
 Davenant. 
 
 564. CONSCIENCE : her testimony concerning 
 
 a future life. 
 
 sceptic, whoe’er thou art, tell, if thou knowest, 
 
 Why every nation, every clime, though all 
 
 [ In laws, in rights, in manners disagree, 
 
 With one consent expect another world 
 
 Where wickedness shall weep ? Why in each breast 
 
 Is placed a friendly monitor, that prompts, 
 
 Informs, directs, encourages, forbids? 
 
 Tell, why on unknown evil grief attends, 
 
 Dr joy on secret good ? Why Conscience acts 
 With tenfold force, when sickness, age, or pain 
 stands tottering on the precipice of death ? 
 
 Dr why such horrors gnaw the guilty soul 
 Df dying sinners, while the good man sleeps 
 Peaceful and calm, and with a smile expires ? 
 
 Glynn. 
 
 565. CONSCIENCE: may be perverted. 
 
 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. 
 
 Nature has placed thee on a changeful tide, 
 
 To breast its waves, but not without a guide ; 
 
 Vet, as the needle will forget its aim, 
 
 Jarr’d by the fury of the electric flame, 
 
 As the true current it will falsely feel 
 Warp’d from its axis by a freight of steel; 
 
 So will thy conscience lose its balanced truth, 
 
 If passion’s lightning fall upon thy youth ; 
 
 So the pure effluence quit its sacred hold, 
 
 Girt round too deeply with magnetic gold. 
 
 Go to yon tower, where busy science plies 
 Her vast antennae, feeling through the skies ; 
 
 That little vernier on whose slender lines 
 The midnight taper trembles as it shines, 
 
 A silent index, tracks the planets’ march 
 In all their wanderings through the ethereal arch, 
 Tells through the mist where dazzled Mercury burns, 
 And marks the spot where Uranus returns. 
 
 So, till by wrong or negligence effaced, 
 
 The living index which thy Maker traced 
 Repeats the line each starry virtue draws 
 Through the wide circuit of creation’s laws ; 
 
 Still tracks unchanged the everlasting ray 
 Where the dark shadows of temptation stray ; 
 
 But, once defaced, forgets the orbs of light, 
 
 And leaves thee wandering o’er the expanse of night. 
 
 Holmes. 
 
 566. CONSCIENCE : must be obeyed. 
 
 O conscience ! conscience ! Man’s most faithful 
 friend, 
 
 How canst thou comfort, ease, relieve, defend ! 
 
 But if he will thy friendly checks forego, 
 
 Thou art, oh, woe for me ! his deadliest foe. 
 
 Crabbe. 
 
 567. CONSCIENCE : operates most powerfully 
 
 in the noblest minds. 
 
 ’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. 
 
 568. CONSCIENCE. Power of 
 
 Conscience, what art thou? thou tremendous power! 
 Who dostdnhabit 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. 
 
 569. CONSCIENCE. Remorse of 
 
 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 a 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, 
 
 She darts into her desperate brain. 
 
CONSCIENCE 
 
 CONSCIENCE 
 
 116 
 
 So Jo the dark in soul expire, 
 
 Or live like scorpion girt with fire ; 
 
 So writhes the mind remorse has riven, 
 
 Unfit for earth, undoom’d for heaven. 
 Darkness above, despair beneath, 
 
 Around it flame, within it death. Byron. 
 
 570. CONSCIENCE : a supreme authority. 
 
 Accountable to none 
 But to my conscience and my God alone. 
 
 Oldham. 
 
 571. CONSCIENCE: sweetness of her com¬ 
 
 mendations in the final hour. 
 
 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.— Brandon. 
 
 The sweetest cordial we receive at last 
 Is conscience of our virtuous actions past. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 572. CONSCIENCE. Terrors of an awakened 
 
 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 ’twere to buy a world of happy days : 
 So full of dismal terror was the time. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Oh, 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, pronounced 
 The name of Prosper.— Shakespeare. 
 
 No ; ’tis the tale which angry conscience tells, 
 When she with more than tragic horror swells 
 Each circumstance of guilt; when stern, but true, 
 She brings bad actions forth into review, 
 
 And, like the dread handwriting on the wall, 
 
 Bids late remorse awake at reason’s call; 
 
 Arm’d at all points, bids scorpion vengeance pass, 
 
 And to the mind holds up reflection’s glass— 
 
 The mind, which starting, heaves the heart-felt groan, 
 And hates that form she knows to be her own. 
 
 Churchill. 
 
 Trust me, no tortures which the poets feign 
 Can match the fierce, the unutterable pain 
 He feels, who, night and day devoid of rest, 
 Carries his own accuser in his breast. 
 
 Gifford. 
 
 But conscience, in some awful, silent hour, 
 
 When captivating lusts have lost their power, 
 
 Perhaps when sickness, or some fearful dream, 
 Reminds him of religion, hated theme ! 
 
 Starts from the down on which she lately slept, 
 
 And tells of laws despised, at least not kept; 
 
 Shows with a pointing finger, but no noise, 
 
 A pale procession of past sinful joys, 
 
 All witnesses of blessings foully scorn’d, 
 
 And life abused, are not to be suborn’d.— Cowper. 
 
 There is no future pang 
 Can deal that justice on the self-condemn’d 
 He deals on his own soul.— Byron. 
 
 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 make a hell of heaven—can exorcise, 
 
 From out the unbounded spirit, the quick sense 
 Of its own sins, wrongs, sufferance, and revenge 
 Upon itself.— Byron. 
 
 No ear can hear, no tongue can tell, 
 
 The tortures of that inward hell!— Byron. 
 
 How awful is that hour, when conscience stings 
 The hoary wretch who on his death-bed hears, 
 Deep in his soul, the thundering voice that rings, 
 
 In one dark, damning moment, crimes of years, 
 And screaming like a vulture in his ears, 
 
 Tells, one by one, his thoughts and deeds of shame ; 
 
 How wild the fury of his soul careers ! 
 
 His swart eye flashes with intensest flame, 
 
 And like the torture’s rack the wrestling of his frame. 
 
 J. G. Percival. 
 
 573. CONSCIENCE : the oracle of God. 
 
 Yet still there whispers the small voice within, 
 Heard through Gain’s silence, and o’er Glory’s din : 
 Whatever creed be taught or land be trod, 
 
 Man’s conscience is the oracle of God !— Byron. 
 
CONSCIENCE 
 
 CONSOLA TION 
 
 117 
 
 574 * CONSCIENCE : a trouble to bad men. 
 
 It is a dangerous thing ; 
 
 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-faced 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 
 Found. It beggars any man that keeps it. 
 
 It is turn’d out of towns and cities for 
 A dangerous thing ; and every man that means 
 To live well, endeavours to trust himself, 
 
 And live without it. - Shakespeare. 
 
 Thus conscience does make cowards of us all; 
 And thus the native hue of resolution 
 Is sicklied 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.— Shakespeare. 
 
 575. CONSCIENCE : a witness. 
 
 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. 
 
 Watkyns. 
 
 576. CONSECRATION. Entire 
 
 If so poor a worm as I 
 May to Thy great glory live, 
 
 All my actions sanctify, 
 
 All my words and thoughts receive ; 
 
 Claim me for Thy service, claim 
 All I have, and all I am. 
 
 Take my soul and body’s powers ; 
 
 Take my mem’ry, mind, and will; 
 
 All my goods, and all my hours ; 
 
 All I know, and all I feel; 
 
 All I think, or speak, or do ; 
 
 Take my heart, but make it new. 
 
 Now, O God, Thine own I am ; 
 
 Now I give Thee back Thine own ; 
 Freedom, friends, and health, and fame, 
 Consecrate to Thee alone : 
 
 Thine I live, thrice happy I ! 
 
 Happier still if Thine I die.— Charles Wesley. 
 
 577 - CONSISTENCY. 
 
 Thou must be true thyself, 
 
 If thou the truth wouldst teach ; 
 
 Thy soul must overflow, if thou 
 Another’s soul wouldst reach. 
 
 It needs the overflow of heart 
 To give the lips full speech. 
 
 Think truly, and thy thoughts 
 Shall the world’s famine feed ; 
 
 Speak truly, and each word of thine 
 Shall be a fruitful seed ; 
 
 Live truly, and thy life shall be 
 A great and noble creed. 
 
 578- CONSOLATION. Compensatory 
 
 So, Christian ! though gloomy and sad be thy days, 
 And the tempest of sorrow encompass thee black ; 
 Though no sunshine of promise or hope sheds its 
 rays 
 
 To illumine and cheer thy life’s desolate track 
 Though thy soul writhes in anguish, and bitter tears 
 flow 
 
 O’er the wreck of fond joys from thy bleeding 
 heart riven, 
 
 Check thy murmuring sorrows, thou lorn one, and 
 know 
 
 That the chasten’d on earth are the purest for 
 heaven: 
 
 And remember, though gloomy the present may be, 
 That ‘the Master is coming,’ and coming to thee. 
 
 Patterson. 
 
 579. CONSOLATION : in Christ. 
 
 ‘ If any consolation be 
 In Christ! ’ Oh words of mild reproof 
 To all who sit in misery, 
 
 Holding their griefs and cares aloof 
 From that dear Helper—bowing low 
 Beneath the heavy weights of woe, 
 
 Yet seeking not the sweet relief 
 To purchase which He bore our grief. 
 
 If there no consolation be 
 
 In Christ, or comfort in His love, 
 
 Ah ! where for succour can we flee ? 
 
 Too heavy must our burden prove 
 If we must bear its weight alone— 
 
 So deathly faint as we have grown ; 
 
 Beneath this long suspense and fear 
 What if there were no comfort near ? 
 
 Alone, and all-forsaken by 
 
 The hearts that we have served in need, 
 
 While keen reproaches multiply, 
 
 And gaping wounds afresh do bleed, 
 
 If in the spirit we can see 
 No fellowship of sympathy, 
 
 No tender pity of our need, 
 
 Then are we desolate indeed ! 
 
CO NS OLA TION 
 
 118 
 
 CONSTANCY 
 
 Comfort the hearts that ache and bleed, 
 
 O blessed Jesus ! Soothe the woe 
 Of trembling lips that vainly plead ; 
 
 How rough these earthly paths can grow, 
 Thy pierced, wounded feet attest ; 
 
 Give to the heavy laden rest, 
 
 Draw all the weary unto Thee, 
 
 Till they Thy consolation see.— Hildreth. 
 
 580. CONSOLATION. Time’s 
 
 And when Time, sweet opiate, flings 
 From his swift, invisible wings, 
 
 Bearing from the heart away 
 Some slight anguish day by day ; 
 
 Grief, through Memory’s medium scann’d, 
 Mellow, sweet, and soft appears ; 
 
 Though no smile the Past demand, 
 
 Still it does not ask for tears. 
 
 And when better still than this, 
 
 Comes Religion’s soothing kiss, 
 
 Breathing on the wounded heart 
 Balm no other can impart, 
 
 Grief thenceforth is grief no more ; 
 
 All its power on earth shall cease, 
 
 But shall give, when life is o’er, 
 
 Birth to deathless joy and peace.— Clinch. 
 
 581. CONSOLATION. True 
 
 One adequate support 
 For the calamities of mortal life 
 Exists, one only an assured belief 
 That the procession of our fate, howe’er 
 Sad or disturb’d, is order’d by a Being 
 Of infinite benevolence and power, 
 
 Whose everlasting purposes embrace 
 All accidents, converting them to good. 
 
 The darts of anguish fix not, where the seat 
 Of suffering hath been thoroughly fortified 
 By acquiescence in the will supreme, 
 
 For time and for eternity by faith, 
 
 Faith absolute in God, including hope, 
 
 And the defence that lies in boundless love 
 Of His perfections ; with habitual dread 
 Of aught unworthily conceived, endured 
 Impatiently, ill-done, or left undone, 
 
 To the dishonour of His holy name.' 
 
 Soul of our souls, and Safeguard of the world, 
 Sustain—Thou only canst—the sick of heart; 
 Restore their languid spirits, and recall 
 Their lost affections unto Thee and Thine ! 
 
 • •••*’ 
 
 Come labour, when the worn-out frame lequiie^ 
 Perpetual sabbath ; come disease, and want, 
 
 And sad exclusion through decay of sense : 
 
 But leave me unabated trust in Thee, 
 
 And let Thy favour to the end of life 
 
 Inspire me with ability to seek 
 
 Repose and hope among eternal things,— 
 
 Father of heaven and earth ! and I am rich, 
 
 And will possess my portion in content! 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 582. CONSTANCY. Emblem of 
 
 I AM constant as the northern star ; 
 
 Of whose true, fix’d, and resting quality 
 
 There is no fellow in the firmament. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 583. CONSTANCY. Friendly 
 
 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— 
 
 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. Doanc. 
 
 584. CONSTANCY. Virtuous 
 
 Who is the honest man ? 
 
 He that doth still and strongly good pursue, 
 
 To God, his neighbour, and himself most true ; 
 
 Whom neither force nor fawning can 
 Unpin, or wrench from giving all their due. 
 
 Whose honesty is not 
 So loose or easy, that a ruffling wind 
 Can blow away, or glittering look it blind : 
 
 Who rides his sure and even trot, 
 
 While the world now rides by, now lags behind. 
 
 Who, when great trials come, 
 
 Nor seeks, nor shuns them, but doth calmly stay, 
 Till he the thing and the example weigh : 
 
 All being brought into a sum, 
 
 What place or person calls for, he doth pay. 
 
 Whom none can work or woo, 
 
 To use in anything a trick or sleight ; 
 
 For above all things he abhors deceit : 
 
 Ilis words and works and fashion too 
 All of a piece, and all are clear and straight. 
 
CONTEMPLA TION 
 
 CONTENTMENT 
 
 119 
 
 Who never melts or thaws 
 At close temptations : when the day is done, 
 
 His goodness sets not, but in dark can run : 
 
 The sun to others writeth laws, 
 
 And is their virtue ; virtue is his sun. 
 
 Who when he is to treat 
 
 With sick folks, women, those whom passions sway, 
 Allows for that, and keeps his constant way ; 
 
 Whom others’ faults do not defeat; 
 
 But though man fail him, yet his part doth play. 
 
 Whom nothing can procure, 
 
 When the wide world runs bias, from his will 
 To writhe his limbs, and share, not mend, the ill. 
 
 This is the marksman, safe and sure, 
 
 Who still is right, and prays to be so still. 
 
 George Herbert. 
 
 When all things have their trial, you shall find 
 Nothing is constant but a virtuous mind. 
 
 Shirley. 
 
 585. CONTEMPLATION. Votary of 
 
 He sat within a silent cave, apart 
 
 From men, upon a chair of diamond stone ; 
 Words he had not, companions he had none, 
 
 But steadfastly pursued his thoughtful art; 
 
 And as he mused he pull’d a slender string 
 Which evermore within his hand he held ; 
 
 And the dim curtain rose which had conceal’d 
 His thoughts, the city of the immortal King : 
 
 There, pictured in its solemn pomp, it lay, 
 
 A glorious country stretching round about, 
 
 And through its golden gates pass’d in and out 
 Men of all nations, on their heavenly way. 
 
 On this he mused, and mused the whole day long, 
 Feeding his feeble faith till it grew strong.— Croly. 
 
 586. CONTENTMENT : a Christian duty. 
 
 Be still, my soul, Jehovah loveth thee ; 
 
 Fret not, nor murmur at thy weary lot ; 
 
 Though dark and lone thy journey seems to be, 
 
 Be sure that thou art ne’er by Him forgot. 
 
 He ever loves ; then trust Him, trust Him still; 
 Let all thy care be this—the doing of His will; 
 Canst thou not trust His rich and bounteous hand, 
 Who feeds all living things on sea and land ? 
 
 Be thou content. 
 
 587. CONTENTMENT : a crown. 
 
 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. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 588. CONTENTMENT : brings happiness. 
 
 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.— Gay. 
 
 He that holds fast the golden mean, 
 
 And lives contentedly between 
 The little and the great, 
 
 Feels not the want that pinch the poor, 
 
 Nor plagues that haunt the rich man’s door, 
 Embittering all his state.— Cowper. 
 
 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, 
 
 Finds heavenly peace a willing guest, 
 
 And bears the promise in his breast 
 
 Of treasure in the skies ?— Mrs Sigourney. 
 
 589. CONTENTMENT : characteristic of the 
 
 noblest minds. 
 
 The noblest mind the best contentment has. 
 
 Spenser. 
 
 All great souls still make their own content ; 
 
 We to ourselves may all our wishes grant; 
 
 For, nothing coveting, we nothing want. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 590* CONTENTMENT : comes from within. 
 
 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 ., 
 
 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. 
 
 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 traced thee on the peasant’s cheek ; 
 
 I’ve mark’d thee in the milkmaid’s smile ; 
 
 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 combined, 
 
CONTENTMENT 
 
 120 
 
 CONTENTMENT 
 
 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 Manners , 
 
 Some murmur when their sky is clear, 
 
 And wholly bright to view, 
 
 If one small speck of dark appear 
 In their great heaven of blue ; 
 
 And some with thankful love are fill’d, 
 
 If but one streak of light, 
 
 One ray of God’s good mercy, gild 
 The darkness of their night. 
 
 In palaces are hearts that ask, 
 
 In discontent and pride, 
 
 Why life is such a weary task, 
 
 And all good things denied ? 
 
 And hearts in poorest huts admire, 
 
 How love has in their aid 
 (Love that not ever seems to tire) 
 
 Such rich provision made. — Trench. 
 
 591. CONTENTMENT. Contrast of 
 
 Ten poor men sleep in peace on one straw heap, as 
 Saadi sings, 
 
 But the immensest empire is too narrow for two 
 kings.— Oriental. 
 
 592. CONTENTMENT. Cultivating 
 
 If we cannot have all that we wish upon earth, 
 
 Let us try to be happy with less if we can ; 
 
 If wealth be not always the guerdon of worth, 
 
 Worth, sooner than wealth, makes the happier 
 man. 
 
 Is it wise to be anxious for pleasures afar, 
 
 And the pleasures around us to slight or decry ? 
 Asking Night for the sun,—asking Day for the star ? 
 Let us conquer such faults, or at least let us try. 
 
 If the soil of a garden be worthy our care, 
 
 Its culture delightful, though ever so small ; 
 
 Oh then let the heart the same diligence share, 
 
 And the flowers of affection will rival them all. 
 
 There ne’er was delusion more constantly shown, 
 Than that wealth every charm of existence can buy; 
 As long as love, friendship, and truth are life’s own, 
 All hearts may be happy, if all hearts will try / 
 
 Charles Swain. 
 
 593. CONTENTMENT : gained. 
 
 My conscience is my crown, contented thoughts my 
 rest, 
 
 My heart is happy in itself, my bliss is in my breast. 
 
 Enough I reckon wealth : a mean the surest lot, 
 That lies too high for base contempt, too low for 
 envy’s shot. 
 
 My wishes are but few, all easy to fulfil, 
 
 I make the limits of my power the bonds unto my 
 will. 
 
 I have no hopes but one, which is of heavenly reign ; 
 Effects attain’d, or not desired, all lower hopes 
 refrain. 
 
 I feel no care of coin, well-doing is my wealth, 
 
 My mind to me an empire is, while grace affordeth 
 health. — Southwell. 
 
 594. CONTENTMENT. Growth of 
 
 O YEARS gone down into the past ! 
 
 What pleasant memories come to me 
 Of your untroubled days of peace, 
 
 And hours of almost ecstasy ! 
 
 Yet would I have no moon stand still, 
 
 Where life’s most pleasant valleys lie ; 
 
 Nor wheel the planet of the day 
 
 Back on his pathway through the sky. 
 
 For though, when youthful pleasures died, 
 
 My youth itself went with them, too; 
 
 To-day, ay ! ev’n this very hour, 
 
 Is the best hour I ever knew. 
 
 Not that my Father gives to me 
 
 More blessings than in days gone by, 
 Dropping in my uplifted hands 
 
 All things for which I blindly cry ; 
 
 But that His plans and purposes 
 
 Have grown to me less strange and dim; 
 And where I cannot understand, 
 
 I trust the issues unto Him. 
 
 And spite of many broken dreams, 
 
 This have I truly learn’d to say— 
 
 Prayers which I thought unanswer’d once 
 Were answer’d in God’s own best way. 
 
 And though some hopes I cherish’d once, 
 Perish’d untimely in their birth, 
 
 Yet have I been beloved and blest 
 Beyond the measure of my worth. 
 
 Phoebe Carey. 
 
 595. CONTENTMENT : its power. 
 
 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 nought— content. 
 
 Wilbye. 
 
CONTENTMENT 
 
 CONTRITION 
 
 121 
 
 Contentment gives a crown, 
 
 Where fortune hath denied it.— Ford. 
 
 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 me far above them all. 
 
 Churchill. 
 
 ;p6. CONTENTMENT. Nobility of 
 
 Ev’n I—but I can laugh and sing, 
 
 Though fetter’d and confined,— 
 
 My mind I may to fortune bring, 
 
 Not fortune to my mind. 
 
 How seldom is our good enjoy’d, 
 
 Our ill how hardly borne, 
 
 When all our fancies are employ’d 
 To kick against the thorn ! 
 
 But, sure, ourselves aright to see 
 True wisdom well may bear : 
 
 ’Tis nobly great to dare to be 
 No greater than we are. 
 
 Samuel Wesley , Jr. 
 
 597. CONTENTMENT. Profession of 
 
 I WEIGH not fortune’s frown or smile ; 
 
 I joy not much in earthly joys ; 
 
 I seek not state, I seek not style ; 
 
 I am not fond of fancy’s toys ; 
 
 I rest so pleased with what I have, 
 
 I wish no more, no more I crave. 
 
 I see ambition never pleased; 
 
 I see some Tantals starved in store ; 
 
 I see gold’s dropsy seldom eased ; 
 
 I see e’en Midas gape for more : 
 
 I neither want, nor yet abound— 
 
 Enough’s a feast, content is crown’d. 
 
 I feign not friendship where I hate ; 
 
 I fawn not on the great in show ; 
 
 I prize, I praise a mean estate— 
 
 Neither too lofty nor too low : 
 
 This, this is all my choice, my cheer— 
 
 A mind content, a conscience clear. 
 
 Joshua Sylvester. 
 
 598. CONTENTMENT : the object of universal 
 
 pursuit. 
 
 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. 
 
 599. CONTENTMENT : widely diffused. 
 
 Whate’er the passion, knowledge, fame, or pelf, 
 Not one will change his neighbour with himself. 
 The learn’d is happy nature to explore, 
 
 The fool is happy that he knows no more ; 
 
 The rich is happy in the plenty given, 
 
 The poor contents him with the care of Heaven. 
 See the blind beggar dance, the cripple sing, 
 
 The sot a hero, lunatic a king, 
 
 The starving chemist in his golden views 
 Supremely bless’d, the poet in his muse.— Pope. 
 
 600. CONTRIBUTION-BOX. The 
 
 Two spiders, so the story goes, 
 
 Upon a living bent, 
 
 Enter’d the meeting-house one day, 
 
 And hopefully were heard to say, 
 
 ‘ Here we shall have at least fair play, 
 
 With nothing to prevent.’ 
 
 Each chose his place and went to work, 
 
 The light webs grew apace ; 
 
 One on the sofa spun his thread, 
 
 But shortly came the sexton dread, 
 
 And swept him off, and so, half-dead, 
 
 He sought another place. 
 
 ‘ I’ll try the pulpit next,’ said he, 
 
 * There surely is a prize ; 
 
 The desk appears so neat and clean, 
 
 I’m sure no spider there has been ; 
 
 Besides, how often have I seen 
 The pastor brushing flies ! ’ 
 
 He tried the pulpit, but alas ! 
 
 His hopes proved visionary ; 
 
 With dusting-brush the sexton came, 
 
 And spoilt his geometric game, 
 
 Nor gave him time nor space to claim 
 The right of sanctuary. 
 
 At length, half-starved and weak and lean, 
 He sought his former neighbour, 
 
 Who now had grown so sleek and round, 
 
 He weigh’d the fraction of a pound, 
 
 And look’d as if the art he’d found 
 Of living without labour. 
 
 ‘How is it, friend,’ he ask’d, ‘that I 
 Endured such thumps and knocks, 
 
 While you have grown so very gross ? ’ 
 
 ‘Tis plain,’he answer’d, ‘not a loss 
 I’ve met since first I spun across 
 
 The contribution-box.’— Alice Clark. 
 
 601. CONTRITION. Late 
 
 If. gracious God, in life’s green, ardent year, 
 
 A thousand times Thy patient love I tried ; 
 
CONTRITION 
 
 122 
 
 CONVERT 
 
 With reckless heart, with conscience hard and sere, 
 Thy gifts perverted and Thy power defied; 
 
 Oh grant me, now that wintry snows appear 
 
 Around my brow, and youth’s bright promise hide— 
 Grant me with reverential awe to hear 
 
 Thy holy voice, and in Thy word confide ! 
 
 Blot from my book of life its early stain ! 
 
 Since days misspent will never more return, 
 
 My future path do Thou in mercy trace ; 
 
 So cause my soul with pious zeal to burn, 
 
 That all the trust which in Thy name I place, 
 
 Frail as I am, may not prove wholly vain. 
 
 Pietro Bembo. 
 
 602. CONTRITION. Power of , 
 
 All powerful is the penitential sigh 
 Of true contrition ; like the placid wreaths 
 Of incense, wafted from the righteous shrine 
 Where Abel minister’d, to the blest seat 
 Of Mercy, an accepted sacrifice, 
 
 Humiliation’s conscious plaint ascends.— Hayes. 
 
 603. CONTROVERSY : leads to conflict. 
 
 Some day the live coal behind the thought, 
 
 Whether from Baal’s stone obscene, 
 
 Or from the shrine serene 
 Of God’s pure altar brought, 
 
 Bursts up in flame ; the war of tongue and pen 
 Learns with what deadly purpose it was fraught, 
 And, helpless in the fiery passion caught, 
 
 Shakes all the pillar’d state with shock of men: 
 Some day the soft Ideal that we woo’d 
 Confronts us fiercely foe-beset, pursued, 
 
 And cries reproachful: ‘ Was it, then, my praise, 
 And not myself was loved ? Prove now thy truth ; 
 I claim of thee the promise of thy youth ; 
 
 Give me thy life, or cower in empty phrase, 
 
 The victim of thy genius, not its mate ! ’— Lcnoell. 
 
 604. CONVERSATION. 
 
 Would you both please and be instructed too, 
 Watch well the rage of shining to subdue: 
 
 Hear every man upon his favourite theme, 
 
 And ever be more knowing than you seem. 
 
 The lowest genius will afford some light, 
 
 Or give a hint that had escaped your sight. 
 
 Stillingfieet. 
 
 ’Tis remarkable, that they 
 
 Talk most who have the least to say.— Prior. 
 
 Be silent always when you doubt your sense ; 
 
 And speak, though sure, with seeming diffidence. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Discourse may want an animated ‘ No ! ’ 
 
 To brush the surface, and to make it flow; 
 
 But still remember, if you mean to please, 
 
 To press your point with modesty and ease. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 Words iearn’d by rote a parrot may rehearse, 
 
 But talking is not always to converse ; 
 
 Not more distinct from harmony divine 
 
 The constant creaking of a country sign.— Cowper. 
 
 But, light and airy, stood on the alert, 
 
 And shone in the best part of dialogue : 
 
 By humouring always what they might assert, 
 
 And list’ning to the topics most in vogue ; 
 
 Now grave, now gay, but never dull or pert ; 
 
 And smiling but in secret—cunning rogue ! 
 
 He ne’er presumed to make an error clearer: 
 
 In short, there never was a better hearer.— Byron. 
 
 Nor did we fail to see within ourselves 
 What need there is to be reserved in speech, 
 
 And temper all our thoughts with charity. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 605. CONVERSION : needed. 
 
 I NEED a cleansing change within: 
 
 My life must once again begin ; 
 
 New hope I need, and youth renew’d, 
 
 And more than human fortitude ; 
 
 New faith, new love, and strength to cast 
 Away the fetters of the past. 
 
 Hartley Coleridge. ■ 
 
 606. CONVERT. Happiness of the 
 
 Oh how happy.are they 
 Who the Saviour obey, 
 
 And have laid up their treasure above ! 
 
 Tongue can never express 
 The sweet comfort and peace 
 Of a soul in its earliest love. 
 
 That sweet comfort was mine, 
 
 When the favour divine 
 I received through the blood of the Lamb ; 
 When my heart first believed, 
 
 What a joy I received— 
 
 What a heaven in Jesus’s name ! 
 
 Oh, the rapturous height 
 Of that holy delight 
 Which I felt in the life-giving blood ! 
 
 Of my Saviour possess’d, 
 
 I was perfectly blest, 
 
 As if fill’d with the fulness of God.— C. Wesley. 
 
CONVICTION 
 
 COUNTRY LIFE 
 
 123 
 
 607. CONVICTION : resisted. 
 
 In the silent midnight watches, 
 
 List,—thy bosom door ! 
 
 How it knocketh, knocketh, knocketh, 
 Knocketh evermore ! 
 
 Say not *tis thy pulse is beating : 
 
 ’Tis thy heart of sin : 
 
 ’Tis thy Saviour knocks, and crieth, 
 
 Rise, and let Me in ! 
 
 Death comes down, with reckless footstep, 
 
 To the hall and hut: 
 
 Think you Death will stand a-knocking 
 Where the door is shut ? 
 
 Jesus waiteth, waiteth, waiteth ; 
 
 But thy door is fast! 
 
 Grieved, away thy Saviour goeth : 
 
 Death breaks in at last. 
 
 Then ’tis thine to stand entreating 
 Christ to let thee in ; 
 
 At the gate of heaven beating, 
 
 Wailing for thy sin. 
 
 Nay, alas ! thou foolish virgin, 
 
 Hast thou then forgot ? 
 
 Jesus waited long to know thee, 
 
 But He knows thee not! 
 
 A. Cleveland Coxe. 
 
 608. CONVICTION. Strife in 
 
 How shall my cold and lifeless prayer ascend, 
 Father of Mercies ! to Thy seat on high, 
 
 If, while my lips for Thy deliverance call, 
 
 My heart against that liberty contend ? 
 
 Do Thou, who knowest all, Thy rescue send, 
 Though every power of mine the help deny. 
 Eternal God ! oh, pardon that I went 
 Erring so long ! whence have my eyes been smit 
 With darkness, nor the good from evil known ? 
 To spare offenders, being penitent, 
 
 Is even ours ; to drag them from the pit, 
 Themselves resisting, Lord, is Thine alone ! 
 
 A riosto. 
 
 609. CORRUPTION. Basest 
 
 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 its dignity ; 
 
 For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds; 
 Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 5 io. COUNTRY LIFE. 
 
 None can describe the sweets of country life, 
 
 But those blest men that do enjoy and taste them. 
 
 Plain husbandmen, though far below our pitch 
 Of fortune placed, 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. 
 
 This our life, exempt from public haunt, 
 
 Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, 
 Sermons in stones, and good in everything. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Dear solitary groves, where peace does dwell! 
 
 Sweet harbours of pure love and innocence ! 
 
 How willingly could I for ever stay 
 Beneath the shade of your embracing greens, 
 List’ning to the harmony of warbling birds, 
 
 Tuned with the gentle murmur of the streams. 
 
 Rochester. 
 
 How rich in humble poverty is he 
 Who leads a quiet country life ; 
 
 Discharged of business, void of strife !— Dryden. 
 
 Here too dwells simple truth ; plain innocence; 
 Unsullied beauty ; sound unbroken youth, 
 
 Patient of labour, with a little pleased ; 
 
 Health ever blooming ; unambitious toil; 
 
 Calm contemplation ; and poetic ease.— Thomson. 
 
 O knew he but his happiness, of men 
 The happiest he ! who, far from public rage, 
 
 Deep in the vale, with a choice few retired, 
 
 Drinks the pure pleasures of the rural life. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 O blest retirement ! friend to life’s decline, 
 
 Retreats from care, that never must be mine: 
 
 How blest is he who crowns, in shades like these, 
 
 A youth of labour with an age of ease ; 
 
 Who quits a world where strong temptations try, 
 And, since ’tis hard to combat, learns to fly ! 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 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. 
 
 The statesman, lawyer, merchant, man of trade, 
 Pants for the refuge of some rural shade, 
 
 Where, all his long anxieties forgot 
 Amidst the charms of a sequester'd spot, 
 
com AGE 
 
 Or recollected only to gild o’er 
 And add a smile to what was sweet before, 
 
 He may possess the joys he thinks he sees,’ 
 
 Lay his old age upon the lap of ease, 
 
 Improve the remnant of his wasted span, 
 
 And, having lived a trifler, die a man.— Cmvper. 
 
 Oh friendly to the best pursuits of man, 
 
 Friendly to thought, to virtue, and to peace, 
 Domestic life in rural leisure pass’d ! 
 
 Few know thy value, and few taste thy sweets, 
 Though many boast thy favours, and affect 
 To undei stand and choose thee for their own. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 To one who has been long in city pent, 
 
 ’Tis very sweet to look into the fair 
 And open face of heaven, to breathe a prayer 
 Full in the smile of the blue firmament.— Keats. 
 
 Leave the mere country to mere country swains, 
 And dwell where life in all life’s glory reigns. 
 
 Walter Harte. 
 
 611. COURAGE. Christian 
 
 Stand but your ground, your ghostly foes will fly,_ 
 
 Hell trembles at a heaven-directed eye ; 
 
 Choose rather to defend than to assail,— 
 Self-confidence will in the conflict fail: 
 
 When you are challenged, you may dangers meet,_ 
 
 Tiue courage is a fix’d, not sudden heat; 
 
 Is always humble, lives in self-distrust, 
 
 And will itself into no danger thrust. 
 
 Devote yourself to God, and you will find 
 God fights the battles of a will resign’d. 
 
 Love Jesus ! love will no base fear endure ; 
 
 Love Jesus ! and of conquest rest secure.— Ken. 
 
 612. COURAGE: defined. 
 
 1 HE biave 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. 
 
 613* COURAGE. Demand for 
 
 Thy life’s a warfare, thou a soldier art, 
 
 Satan’s thy foeman, and a faithful heart 
 Thy two-edged weapon ; patience is thy shield, 
 Heaven is thy chieftain, and the world thy field, 
 lobe afraid to die, or wish for death, 
 
 Are words and passions of despairing breath. 
 
 Who doth the first, the day doth faintly yield ; 
 
 And who the second, basely flies the field .—Quarles. 
 
 I2 4 COURAGE 
 
 614. COURAGE : displayed in affliction. 
 
 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. 
 
 615. COURAGE : does not court danger need 
 lessly. 
 
 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 other virtues, 
 They’re all unseasoned without it .—Jonson. 
 
 616. COURAGE: ensures safety. 
 
 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 .—Rowe. 
 
 Be not dismay’d,—fear nurses up a danger ; 
 
 And resolution kills it in the birth.— Phillips. 
 
 Errors not to be recall’d do find 
 Their best redress from presence of the mind ; 
 Courage our greatest failings does supply. 
 
 Waller. 
 
 617. COURAGE. Field of 
 
 Not to the ensanguined 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.— Smollett. 
 
 618. COURAGE : gives happiness. 
 
 Brave spirits are a balsam to themselves, 
 
 There is a nobleness of mind, that heals 
 Wounds beyond salves.— Cartwright. 
 
 619. COURAGE. Marks of true 
 
 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.— Shakespeare. 
 
 The brave man seeks not popular applause, 
 
 Nor, overpower’d with arms, deserts his cause; 
 
COURAGE 
 
 CREA TION 
 
 nshamed, though foil’d, he does the best he can: 
 )rce is of brutes, but honour is of man. Dry den. 
 
 aurage from hearts, and not from numbers, grows. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 -ue valour, friends, on virtue founded strong, 
 eets all events alike.— Mallet. 
 
 lis is true courage, not the brutal force 
 f vulgar heroes, but the firm resolve 
 f virtue and of reason. He who thinks 
 r ithout their aid to shine in deeds of arms, 
 adds on a sandy basis his renown ; 
 dream, a vapour, or an ague-fit 
 ay make a coward, of him.— Whitehead. 
 
 rue fortitude is seen in great exploits 
 
 hat justice warrants, and that wisdom guides ; 
 
 11 else is tow’ring phrensy and distraction. 
 
 Addison. 
 
 622. COVETOUSNESS: as displayed, by land- 
 
 owners. 
 
 Woe to the worldly man, whose covetous 
 Ambition labours to join house to house, 
 
 Lay field to field, till their inclosure edge 
 The plain, girdling a country with one hedge : 
 They leave no place unbought, no piece of earth 
 Which they will not engross ; making a dearth 
 Of all inhabitants ; until they stand 
 Unneighbour’d as unblest within the land.— King. 
 
 623. COVETOUSNESS. Influence of 
 
 O LIFE misspent! O foulest waste of time ! 
 
 No time has he his grovelling mind to store 
 With history’s truths, or philosophic lore. 
 
 No charms for him has God’s all-blooming earth ; 
 His only question this : ‘ What are they worth? 
 Art, nature, wisdom, are no match for gain ; 
 
 And e’en religion bids him pause in vain.— Ward. 
 
 True valour 
 
 ies in the mind, the never-yielding purpose, 
 or owns the blind award of giddy fortune. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 620. COURAGE : needs the support of hope. 
 
 OURAGE uncertain dangers may abate, 
 ut who can bear th’ approach of certain fate ? 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 621. COURTIERS. 
 
 624. COWARDICE. 
 
 Cowards die many times before their deaths ; 
 The valiant never taste of death but once. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 A hundred times in life a coward dies.— Marston. 
 
 When desperate ills demand a speedy cure, 
 Distrust is cowardice, and prudence folly. 
 
 Johnson. 
 
 r is the curse of kings to be attended 
 iy slaves, that take their humours for a warrant 
 'o break within the bloody house of life : 
 aid on the winking of authority, 
 
 'o understand a law ; to know the meaning 
 )f dangerous majesty, when, perchance, it frowns 
 lore upon humour than advised respect. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 ’Tis the curse of kings 
 To be surrounded by a venal herd 
 Of flatterers, that soothe his darling vices, 
 And rob their master of his subjects’ love. 
 
 Brook. 
 
 Those that go up-hill, use to bow 
 Their bodies forward, and stoop low, 
 
 To poise themselves, and sometimes creep, 
 When th’ way is difficult and steep : 
 
 So those at court, that do address 
 By low ignoble offices, 
 
 Can stoop at anything that’s base 
 To wriggle into trust and grace, 
 
 Are like to rise to greatness sooner 
 Than those that go by worth and honour. 
 
 Butler. 
 
 That all men would be cowards if they dare, 
 
 Some men have had the courage to declare. 
 
 Crabbe. 
 
 625. CREATION : absurdity of Atheism. 
 
 Then from whate’er we can to sense produce, 
 Common and plain, or wondrous and abstruse, 
 From Nature’s constant or eccentric laws, 
 
 The thoughtful soul this gen’ral inference draws, 
 That an effect must presuppose the cause.— Prior. 
 
 Ye sons of art, one curious piece devise, 
 
 From whose construction motion shall arise. 
 
 Blackmore. 
 
 Who taught the nations of the field and wood 
 To shun their poison, and to choose their food ? 
 Prescient, the tides or tempests to withstand, 
 
 Build on the wave, or arch beneath the sand ? 
 
 Pope. 
 
 626. CREATION : absurdity of the atomic theory. 
 
 Could atoms, which, with undirected flight, 
 
 Roam’d through the void, and ranged the realms of 
 night, 
 
CREATION 
 
 126 
 
 CREED 
 
 In order march, and to their posts advance, 
 
 Led by no guide but undesigning chance ? 
 
 Blackmore. 
 
 Atheist, use thine eyes ; 
 
 And, having view’d the order of the skies, 
 
 Think (if thou canst) that matter, blindly hurl’d 
 Without a guide, should frame this wondrous world. 
 
 Creech. 
 
 627. CREATION. Cathedral of 
 
 Your voiceless lips, O flowers, are living preachers, 
 Each cup a pulpit, every leaf a book, 
 
 Supplying to my fancy numerous teachers 
 From loneliest nook. 
 
 ’Neath cloister’d boughs each floral bell that swingeth, 
 And tolls its perfume on the passing air, 
 
 Makes Sabbath in the fields, and ever ringeth 
 A call to prayer,— 
 
 Not to the domes where crumbling arch and column 
 Attest the feebleness of mortal hand, 
 
 But to that fane most catholic and solemn 
 Which God hath plann’d,— 
 
 To that cathedral, boundless as our wonder, 
 
 Whose quenchless lamps the sun and moon supply, 
 Its choir the winds and waves, its organ thunder, 
 
 Its dome the sky,— 
 
 There, amid solitude and shade, I wander 
 
 Through the green aisles, and, stretch’d upon the 
 sod, 
 
 Amid the silence reverently ponder 
 
 The ways of God.— Longfellozv. 
 
 628. CREATION. Conservation of 
 
 With what an awful world-revolving power 
 Were first the unwieldy planets launch’d along 
 The illimitable void ! Thus to remain, 
 
 Amid the flux of many thousand years, 
 
 That oft had swept the toiling race of men 
 And all their labour’d monuments away, 
 
 Firm, unremitting, matchless, in their course ; 
 
 To the kind-temper’d change of night and day, 
 And of the seasons, ever stealing round 
 Minutely faithful; such the All-perfect Hand, 
 That poised, impels, and rules the steady whole. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 What but God ! 
 
 Inspiring God ! who, boundless spirit all, 
 
 And unremitting energy, pervades, 
 
 Adjusts, sustains, and agitates the whole. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 629. CREATION. Godin. 
 
 The God of nature and of Grace 
 In all His works appears ; 
 
 His goodness through the earth we trace, 
 
 His grandeur in the spheres. 
 
 Behold this fair and fertile globe, 
 
 By Him in wisdom plann’d ; 
 
 ’Twas He who girded like a robe 
 The ocean round the land. 
 
 His blessings fall in plenteous showers 
 Upon the lap of earth, 
 
 That teems with foliage, fruit, and flowers, 
 
 And rings with infant mirth. 
 
 If God hath made this world so fair, 
 
 Where sin and death abound, 
 
 How beautiful beyond compare 
 
 Will Paradise be found !—James Montgomery 
 
 630. CREATION: still the scene of the Divim 
 
 energy. 
 
 All the world by Thee at first was made, 
 
 And daily yet Thou dost the same repair : 
 
 Nor aught on earth that merry is and glad, 
 
 Nor aught on earth that lovely is and fair, 
 
 But Thou the same for pleasure didst prepare. 
 
 Spenser. 
 
 A mind which through each part infused doth pass, 
 Fashions and works, and wholly doth transpierce 
 All this great body of the universe.— Raleigh. 
 
 631. CREATOR. Praise to the 
 
 Adam. These are Thy glorious works, Parent c 
 good, 
 
 Almighty, Thine this universal frame, 
 
 Thus wondrous fair ; Thyself how wondrous then ! 
 Unspeakable, who sitt’st above these heavens 
 To us invisible, or dimly seen 
 In these Thy lowest works ; yet these declare 
 Thy goodness beyond thought, and power Divine. 
 Speak, ye who best can tell, ye sons of light, 
 
 Angels ; for ye behold Him, and with songs 
 And choral symphonies, day without night, 
 
 Circle His throne rejoicing; ye in heaven, 
 
 On earth join, all ye creatures, to extol 
 
 Him first, Him last, Him midst, and without end. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 632. CREED : of the future. 
 
 ‘I don’t believe in either God or Man. 
 
 Conscious Automata, we nothing can, 
 
CREED 127 CRISIS 
 
 e as our atoms feel tyrannic chance, 
 
 is heredity and circumstance. 
 
 science,—Freewill ,—absurd ! And if you ask 
 
 w on these terms fulfil life’s daily task ? 
 
 at motives ? And what conduct ?—look at me : 
 
 a more respectable you’ll scarcely see. 
 
 family-man, friend, citizen, professor, 
 
 you, or public judgment, my assessor.’ 
 
 ;>od, my dear sir !—but we must wait, I doubt, 
 notice how your grandchildren turn out, 
 n in the doctrine, rear’d upon the plan, 
 total disbelief in God and Man. 
 this experiment be fairly made, 
 r Science mourn, by her high-priests betray’d ; 
 
 , let her teach them, from their tenderest youth, 
 
 ; Truth, the whole Truth, nothing but the Truth— 
 terial Atoms, and Mechanic Force; 
 d send the boys and girls rejoicing on their course ! ’ 
 
 ,33. CREED. The first 
 
 cursed by doubt, our earliest creed we take; 
 
 : love the precepts for the teacher’s sake; 
 e simple lessons which the nursery taught 
 1 soft and stainless on the buds of thought, 
 d the full blossom owes its fairest hue 
 those sweet tear-drops of affection’s dew. 
 
 0 oft the light that led our earlier hours 
 ies with the perfume of our cradle flowers ; 
 e clear, cold question chills to frozen doubt; 
 ed of beliefs, we dread to live without : 
 then, if Reason waver at thy side, 
 
 ; humbler Memory be thy gentle guide; 
 to thy birthplace, and if faith was there, 
 peat thy father’s creed, thy mother’s prayer ! 
 
 Holmes. 
 
 334. CRISIS. A Nation’s 
 
 [CE to every man and nation comes the moment 
 to decide, 
 
 the strife of Truth with Falsehood, for the good 
 or evil side; 
 
 me great cause, God’s new Messiah, offering each 
 the bloom or blight, 
 
 Irts the goats upon the left hand, and the sheep 
 upon the right, 
 
 /id the choice goes by for ever ’twixt that darkness 
 and that light. 
 
 list thou chosen, O my people, on whose party 
 thou shalt stand, 
 
 lc the Doom from its worn sandals shakes the dust 
 against our land ? 
 
 bough the cause of Evil prosper, yet ’tis Truth 
 alone is strong, 
 
 And, albeit she wander outcast now, I see around 
 her throng 
 
 Troops of beautiful, tall angels, to enshield her from 
 all wrong. 
 
 Backward look across the ages and the beacon- 
 , ' 'moments see, 
 
 That, like peaks of some sunk continent, jut through 
 
 * 
 
 Oblivion’s sea ; 
 
 Not an ear in court or market for the low foreboding 
 cry 
 
 Of those Crises, God’s stern winnowers, from whose 
 feet earth’s chaff must fly ; 
 
 Never shows the choice momentous till the judgment 
 hath pass’d by.— Lowell. 
 
 635. CRISIS. A Soul’s 
 
 There is a time, we know not when, 
 
 A point, we know not where, 
 
 That marks the destiny of men 
 To glory or despair. 
 
 There is a line, by us unseen. 
 
 That crosses every path ; 
 
 The hidden boundary between 
 God’s patience and His wrath. 
 
 To pass that limit is to die— 
 
 To die as if by stealth ; 
 
 It does not quench the beaming eye, 
 
 Nor pale the glow of health. 
 
 The conscience may be still at ease, 
 
 The spirit light and gay, 
 
 That which is pleasing still may please. 
 
 And care be thrust away. 
 
 Oh, where is this mysterious bourne 
 By which our path is cross’d ? 
 
 Beyond which God Himself hath sworn 
 That he who goes is lost. 
 
 How far may we go on in sin ? 
 
 How long will God forbear ? 
 
 Where does hope end ? and where begin 
 The confines of despair ? 
 
 An answer from the skies is sent: 
 
 Ye that from God depart, 
 
 While it is call’d to-day, repent, 
 
 And harden not your heart. 
 
 J. A. Alexander. 
 
 636. CRISIS. The important 
 
 At every motion of our breath 
 
 Life trembles on the brink of death, 
 
 A taper’s flame that upward turns, 
 
 While downward to the dust it burns. 
 
CRITICS 128 CROSS 
 
 A moment usher’d us to birth, 
 
 Heirs to the commonwealth of earth ; 
 
 Moment by moment years are past, 
 
 And one ere long will be our last. 
 
 ’Twixt that, long fled, which gave us light, 
 And that which soon shall end in night, 
 
 There is a point no eye shall see, 
 
 Yet on it hangs eternity.. 
 
 This is that moment,—who can tell 
 Whether it leads to heaven or hell ? 
 
 This is that moment,— as we choose, 
 
 The immortal soul we save or lose. 
 
 Time past and time to come are not; 
 
 Time present is our only lot: 
 
 O God ! henceforth our hearts incline 
 To seek no other love than Thine. 
 
 James Montgomery. 
 
 637. CRITICS. 
 
 Many knotty points there are, 
 
 Which all discuss, but few can clear.— Prior. 
 
 Let those teach others who themselves excel; 
 And censure freely, who have written well. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Those heads, as stomachs, are not sure the best, 
 Which nauseate all, and nothing can digest. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer, 
 And, without sneering, teach the rest to sneer ; 
 Willing to wound, and yet afraid to strike, 
 
 Just hint a fault, and hesitate dislike : 
 
 Alike reserved to blame or to commend; 
 
 A tim’rous foe, and a suspicious friend.— Pope. 
 
 The gen’rous critic fann’d the poet’s fire, 
 
 And taught the world with reason to admire. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 The critic eye, that microscope of wit, 
 
 Sees hairs and pores, examines bit by bit. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 To observations which ourselves we make, 
 
 We grow more partial for the observer’s sake. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 638. CRITICISM. Bitter 
 
 A CRITIC was of old a glorious name, 
 
 Whose sanction handed merit up to fame ; 
 Beauties as well as faults he brought to view : 
 His judgment great, and great his candour too. 
 No servile rules drew sickly taste aside ; 
 
 Secure he walk’d, for Nature was his guide. 
 
 But now, O strange reverse ! our critics brawl. 
 In praise of candour with a heart of gall. 
 
 Conscious of guilt, and fearful of the light; 
 
 They lurk enshrouded in the veil of night: 
 
 Safe from destruction seize th’ unwary prey, 
 
 And stab, like bravoes, all who come that way. 
 
 Churchill. 
 
 639. CRITICISM. Laws of 
 
 Whoever thinks a faultless piece to see, 
 
 Thinks what ne’er was, nor is, nor e’er shall be. 
 In every work regard the writer’s end, 
 
 Since none can compass more than they intend: 
 And, if the means be just, the conduct true, 
 Applause, in spite of trivial faults, is due.— Pope , 
 
 A perfect judge will read each work of wit 
 With the same spirit that its author writ; 
 
 Survey the whole, nor seek slight faults to find, 
 Where nature moves, and rapture charms the mine 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Learn then what morals critics ought to show : 
 ’Tis not enough wit, art, and learning join ; 
 
 In all you speak, let truth and candour shine. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Shun their fault, who, scandalously nice, 
 Will needs mistake an author into vice. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Eye Nature’s walks, shoot folly as it flies, 
 
 And catch the manners living as they rise; 
 Laugh where we must, be candid where we can. 
 But vindicate the ways of God to man.— Pope. 
 
 Ah ! ne’er so dire a thirst of glory boast, 
 
 Nor in the critic let the man be lost! 
 
 Good nature and good sense must ever join : 
 To err is human ; to forgive, divine.— Pope. 
 
 Prune the luxuriant, the uncouth refine, 
 
 But show no mercy to an empty line.— Pope 
 
 Great wits sometimes may gloriously offend, 
 And rise to faults true critics dare not mend. 
 
 Pope 
 
 Some beauties yet no precepts can declare ; 
 For there’s a happiness as well as care : 
 
 Music resembles poetry ; in each 
 
 Are nameless graces, which no methods teach 
 
 And which a master-hand alone can reach. 
 
 Pope 
 
 640. CROSS. Kneeling at the 
 
 O Jesus ! sweet the tears I shed, 
 
 Whilst at Thy cross I kneel, 
 
 Gaze on Thy wounded, fainting head, 
 
 And all Thy sorrows feel. 
 
CROSS 
 
 129 
 
 CROSS 
 
 My heart dissolves to see Thee bleed, 
 
 This heart so hard before ; 
 
 I hear Thee for the guilty plead, 
 
 And grief o’erflows the more. 
 
 ’Tvvas for the sinful Thou didst die, 
 
 And I a sinner stand : 
 
 What love speaks from Thy dying eye; 
 
 And from each pierced hand ! 
 
 I know this cleansing blood of Thine 
 Was shed, dear Lord, for me ; 
 
 For me, for all—O Grace Divine !— 
 
 Who look by faith on Thee. 
 
 O Christ of God ! O spotless Lamb ! 
 
 By love my soul is drawn ; 
 
 Henceforth, for ever, Thine I am ; 
 
 Here life and peace are born. 
 
 In patient hope the cross I’ll bear, 
 
 Thine arm shall be my stay ; 
 
 And Thou, enthroned, my soul shalt spare, 
 
 On Thy great judgment-day !—Ray Palmer. 
 
 641. CROSS. My 
 
 r is not heavy, agonizing woe, 
 
 Bearing me down with hopeless, crushing weight; 
 lo ray of comfort in the gathering gloom, 
 
 A heart bereaved—a household desolate. 
 
 t is not sickness, with her withering hand, 
 Keeping me low upon a couch of pain; 
 .onging each morning for the weary night; 
 At night, for weary day to come again. 
 
 t is not slander, with her evil tongue; 
 
 ’Tis no presumptuous sin against my God ; 
 Jot reputation lost, or friends betray’d : 
 
 That such is not my cross I thank my God. 
 
 dine is a daily cross of petty cares, 
 
 Of little duties pressing on my heart, 
 
 )f little troubles hard to reconcile, 
 
 Of inward struggles—overcome in part. 
 
 t Ay feet are weary in their daily round, 
 
 My heart is weary of its daily care, 
 
 ;dy sinful nature often doth rebel: 
 
 I pray for grace my daily cross to bear. 
 
 t is not heavy, Lord, yet oft I pine ; 
 
 It is not heavy, but ’tis everywhere ; 
 
 3 y day and night each hour my cross I bear : 
 
 I dare not lay it down—Thou keep’st it there. 
 
 1 dare not lay it down. I only ask 
 That, taking up my daily cross, I may 
 Follow my Master humbly, step by step, 
 
 Through clouds and darkness, unto perfect day. 
 
 9 
 
 642. CROSS. The : the source of comfort. 
 
 Is it not strange, the darkest hour 
 That ever dawn’d on sinful earth 
 Should touch the heart with softer power 
 For comfort, than an angel’s mirth? 
 
 That to the cross the mourner’s eye should turn 
 Sooner than where the stars of Christmas burn ? 
 
 .Sooner than where the Easter sun 
 Shines glorious on yon open grave, 
 
 And to and fro the tidings run, 
 
 ‘ Who died to heal, is risen to save ’ ? 
 Sooner than where upon the Saviour’s friends 
 The very Comforter in light and love descends ? 
 
 Keble . 
 
 643. CROSS : to be borne willingly. 
 
 The cross is always ready, and waits for thee in every place. 
 .... Why hopest then to avoid that from which no human 
 being has been exempt? . . . Thou art deceived, wretchedly 
 deceived, if thou expect anything but tribulation; for this 
 whole mortal life is full of care, and signed on every side 
 with the cross. 
 
 If thou bearest the cross willingly it will soon bear thee beyond 
 the reach of suffering, where God shall take away all sorrow 
 from thy heart.— Thomas d Kcmpis. 
 
 On every side, dear Lord, on every side, 
 
 Waits there an ‘always ready’ cross for me? 
 
 May not I find, through all this world so wide, 
 
 Some restful place from all cross-bearing free? 
 
 The way is dark, thorn-lined and sharp with flints, 
 Whose jagged edges bruise and pierce my feet ; 
 
 Thou knowest, Lord, they mark with bloody prints 
 The toilsome path. Ah, rest would seem so sweet! 
 
 So sweet to lay aside this heavy cross— 
 
 So sweet to find some quiet resting-place— 
 
 So sweet to cease from care and pain and loss, 
 
 And breathe all fulness of life’s joy and grace. 
 
 O wretched heart, why seekest thou to find 
 Exemption from the common mortal lot ? 
 
 Deceitful heart, and discontented mind, 
 
 Thy Master’s Sad Way hast thou then forgot ? 
 
 Was there on earth for Him a place of rest? 
 
 Was there an hour wherein He might not feel 
 
 The weight of Calvary’s cross upon Him prest ? 
 
 The pang of mocking thorn and piercing steel ? 
 
 With prescient sorrow did He not endure 
 Through all the way the dolour of that hour, 
 
 When, thy eternal freedom to secure, 
 
 He met alone the last foe’s cruel power? 
 
 And wilt thou basely shun that blessed sign, 
 
 His mark and seal, inscribing thee His own? 
 
 Nay, rather shout, ‘ Thou blessed cross ! be mine ; 
 I’ll bear thee gladly—by thy sign be known.’ 
 
CROSS 
 
 130 
 
 CURIOSITY 
 
 1 
 
 So shall I, heedless all of earthly loss, 
 
 In glad cross-bearing find my spirit’s rest; 
 
 Soon shall I be, while bearing yet my Cross, 
 
 Lifted upon its arms, to Jesus’ breast. 
 
 Mary E. C. Wyeth. 
 
 644. CROSS. Yesterday’s 
 
 One cross the less remains for me to bear; 
 
 Already borne is that of yesterday ; 
 
 That of to-day shall no to-morrow share ; 
 To-morrow’s, with itself, shall pass away. 
 
 That which is added to the troubled past 
 Is taken from the future, whose sad store 
 Grows less and less each day, till soon the last 
 Dull wave of woe shall break upon our shore. 
 
 The storm that yesterday plough’d up the sea 
 Is buried now beneath its level blue ; 
 
 One storm the fewer now remains for me, 
 
 Ere sky and earth are made for ever new.— Bonar. 
 
 645. CRUCIFIXION. Mystery of the 
 
 Wonder of wonders ! On the cross He dies ! 
 
 Man of the ages, David’s mighty Son, 
 
 The Eternal Word, who spake and it was done, 
 What time, of old, He fonn’d the earth and skies. 
 
 Abash’d be all the wisdom of the wise ! 
 
 Let the wide earth through all her kingdoms know 
 The promised Lamb of God, whose blood should 
 flow,— 
 
 For human guilt the grand, sole sacrifice. 
 
 No more need altar smoke, nor victim bleed : 
 
 ’Tis finish’d !—the great mystery of love. 
 
 Ye sin-condemn’d, by this blood ’tis decreed 
 Ye stand absolved : behold the curse remove ! 
 
 O Christ! Thy deadly wounds, Thy mortal strife 
 Crush death and hell, and give immortal life ! 
 
 Ray Palmer. 
 
 646. CRUELTY. 
 
 I WOULD not enter on my list of friends 
 (Though graced with polish’d manners and fine sense, 
 Yet wanting sensibility) the man 
 Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm. 
 
 An inadvertent step may crush the snail 
 That crawls at evening in the public path, 
 
 But he that has humanity, forewarn’d, 
 
 Will tread aside and let the reptile live. — Cowper. 
 
 Man’s inhumanity to man 
 
 Makes countless thousands mourn.— Burns. 
 
 647. CURIOSITY. 
 
 See its power expand 
 When first the coral fills the infant’s hand ; 
 
 Throned in its mother’s lap, it dries each tear, 
 
 As her sweet legend falls upon the ear ; 
 
 Next it assails him in his top’s strange hum, 
 
 Breathes in his whistle, echoes in his drum. 
 
 Each gilded toy that doting love bestows 
 He longs to break, and every spring expose. 
 
 Placed by your hearth, with what delight he pores 
 O’er the bright pages of the pictured stores ; 
 
 How oft he steals upon your graver task, 
 
 Of this to tell you, and of that to ask. 
 
 And when the warning hour to bedward bids, 
 Though gentle sleep sits waiting on his lids, 
 
 How winningly he bends to gain you o’er, 
 
 That he may read one little story more. 
 
 Nor yet alone to toys and tales confined, 
 
 It sits dark-brooding o’er his embryo mind. 
 
 Take him between your knees, peruse his face, 
 
 While all you know, or think you know, you trace ; 
 Tell him who spoke creation into birth, 
 
 Arch’d the broad heavens and spread the rolling 
 earth; 
 
 Who form’d a pathway for the obedient sun, 
 
 And bade the seasons in their circles run ; 
 
 Who fill’d the air, the forest, and the flood, 
 
 And gave man all for comfort or for food ; 
 
 Tell him he sprang at God’s creating nod— 
 
 He stops you short with, ‘Father, who made God?’ 
 
 Turn to the world—its curious dwellers view, 
 
 Like Paul’s Athenians, seeking Something New. 
 
 Be it a bonfire’s or a city’s blaze, 
 
 The gibbet’s victim, or the nation’s gaze, 
 
 A female atheist, or a learned dog, 
 
 A monstrous pumpkin, or a mammoth hog, 
 
 A murder, or a muster,—’tis the same, 
 
 Life’s follies, glories, griefs, all feed the flame. 
 
 Hark, where the martial trumpet fills the air, 
 
 How the roused multitude come round to stare ; 
 Sport drops his ball, toil throws his hammer by, 
 Thrift breaks a bargain off, to please his eye ; 
 
 Up fly the windows, even fair mistress cook, 
 
 Though dinner bum, must run to take a look. 
 
 Sprague. 
 
 Faith we may boast, undarken’d by a doubt, 
 
 We thirst to find each awful secret out. 
 
 Sprague. 
 
 The inquiring spirit will not be controll’d, 
 
 We would make certain all, and all behold. 
 
 Sprague. 
 
 4 
 
CURSES 
 
 DANGER 
 
 648. CURSES. 
 
 But curses are like arrows shot upright, 
 
 That oftentimes on our own heads do light. 
 
 649. CUSTOM. Breach of 
 
 But to my mind—though I am native here, 
 
 And to the manner born,—it is a custom 
 More honour’d in the breach than the observance. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 650. CUSTOM. Dupes of 
 
 Such dupes are men to custom, and so prone 
 To rev’rence what is ancient, and can plead 
 A course of long observance for its use, 
 
 That even servitude, the worst of ills, 
 
 Because deliver’d down from sire to son, 
 
 Is kept and guarded as a sacred thing. — Cozoper. 
 
 651. CUSTOM : its influence on habit. 
 
 That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat 
 Of habits evil, is angel yet in this ; 
 
 That to the use of actions fair and good, 
 
 He likewise gives a frock, or livery, 
 
 That aptly is put on : refrain to-night; 
 
 And that shall lend a kind of easiness 
 To the next abstinence; the next, more easy; 
 For use can almost change the stamp of nature, 
 And master ev’n the devil, or throw him out, 
 With wondrous potency.— Shakespeare. 
 
 All habits gather by unseen degrees ; 
 
 As brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 652. CUSTOM. Power of 
 
 Man yields to custom as he bows to fate, 
 
 In all things ruled—mind, body, and estate ; 
 
 In pain, in sickness, we for cure apply 
 To them we know not, and we know not why. 
 Habit with him has all the test of truth, 
 
 It must be right: I’ve done it from my youth. 
 
 Crabbe. 
 
 Custom, ’tis true, a venerable tyrant, 
 
 O’er servile man extends her blind dominion. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 As custom arbitrates, whose shifting sway 
 Our life and manners must alike obey.— Byron. 
 
 Custom does often reason overrule, 
 
 And only serves for reason to the fool. 
 
 Earl of Rochester. 
 
 Custom forms us all; 
 
 Our thoughts,' our morals, our most fix’d belief 
 Are consequences of our place of birth.— Hill. 
 
 
 653. CUSTOM. Precedent of 
 
 Away with custom ! ’tis the plea of fools, 
 
 Where crimes enormous, that debase the man, 
 Rise in their own defence : the long-drawn roll 
 Where the ascent and fall of states or men 
 Stand variously portrayed ; what is it else 
 Than a sad series of collective guilt, 
 
 Whence custom for each wantonness of ill 
 May draw the shameful precedent ?— Layard. 
 
 654. DAILY SERVICE : the Christian’s desire. 
 
 Something, my God, for Thee, 
 
 Something for Thee ; 
 
 That each day’s setting sun may bring 
 Some penitential offering ; 
 
 In Thy dear name some kindness done ; 
 
 To Thy dear love some wanderer won; 
 
 Some trial meekly borne for Thee, 
 
 Dear Lord, for Thee. 
 
 Something, my God, for Thee, * 
 
 Something for Thee ; 
 
 That to Thy gracious throne may rise 
 Sweet incense from some sacrifice,— 
 
 Uplifted eyes undimm’d by tears, 
 
 Uplifted faith unstain’d by fears, 
 
 Hailing each joy as light from Thee, 
 
 Dear Lord, from Thee. 
 
 Something, my God, for Thee, 
 
 Something for Thee ; 
 
 For the great love that Thou hast given, 
 
 For the great hope of Thee and heaven, 
 
 My soul her first allegiance brings, 
 
 And upward plumes her heavenward wings, 
 
 ‘ Nearer, my God, to Thee 
 Nearer to Thee ! ’ 
 
 6^5. DANGER. 
 
 The absent danger greater still appears ; 
 
 Less fears he, who is near the thing he fears. 
 
 Daniel. 
 
 Speak, speak, let terror strike slaves mute, 
 
 Much danger makes great hearts most resolute. 
 
 Marston. 
 
 What is danger 
 
 More than the weakness of our apprehensions ? 
 
 A poor cold part o’ th’ blood ; who takes it hold of? 
 Cowards and wicked livers : valiant minds 
 Were made the masters of it. 
 
 Beaumont and Fletcher. 
 
 Our dangers and delights are near allies ; 
 
 From the same stem the rose and prickle rise. 
 
 Alyen. 
 
DARKNESS 
 
 132 
 
 DAY 
 
 656. DARKNESS. Spiritual 
 
 If in thy heart no golden sunlight lingers 
 To brighten life within, 
 
 And to thy ears earth’s sweet and joyous singers 
 Make only doleful din ; 
 
 If, while the world is robed in peerless beauty, 
 Around thy spirit coil 
 Serpents of doubt and fear, and sacied duty 
 Is heavy, joyless toil; 
 
 If when thy knees are bow’d in supplication, 
 Struggling to cast thy care 
 On Heaven, there comes no strength or consolation 
 In answer to thy prayer— 
 
 Seek not to find a reason for thy sadness 
 In Him who changeth not, 
 
 As if His hand withheld the light and gladness 
 Which thou hast vainly sought. 
 
 His loving-kindness is a fount unfailing, 
 
 For ever full and free ; 
 
 If life is dark and prayer is unavailing, 
 
 The hindrance is in thee. 
 
 Arise and search thy heart—let nothing stay thee ; 
 
 The fatal cause is there ; 
 
 This traitor in thy soul may else betray thee 
 To ruin and despair. 
 
 Nor doubt, when thou with heart contrite and lowly 
 Hast all thy sins confess’d, 
 
 Thy night shall pass away, and God the holy 
 Shall hear and give thee rest .— Dewart. 
 
 Not Thou from us, O Lord! but we 
 Withdraw ourselves from Thee. 
 
 When we are dark and dead, 
 
 And Thou art cover’d with a cloud, 
 
 Hanging before Thee like a shroud, 
 
 So that our prayer call find no way, 
 
 Oh teach us that we do not say, 
 
 ‘ Where is Thy brightness fled ?’ 
 
 But that we search and try 
 What in ourselves has wrought this blame, 
 
 For Thou remainest still the same; 
 
 But earth’s own vapours earth may fill 
 With darkness and thick clouds, while still 
 The sun is in the sky. — Trench. 
 
 657. DAVID. Psalms of 
 
 See Judah’s promised king, bereft of all, 
 
 Driven out an- exile from the face of Saul. 
 
 To distant caves the lonely wanderer flies, 
 
 To seek that peace a tyrant’s frown denies. 
 
 Hear the sweet accents of his tuneful voice ; 
 
 Hear him, o’erwhelm’d with sorrows, yet rejoice ; 
 No womanish or wailing grief has part, 
 
 No, not a moment, in his royal heart; 
 
 ’Tis manly music, such as martyrs make, 
 
 Suffering with gladness for a Saviour’s sake: 
 
 His soul exults ; hope animates his lays ; 
 
 The sense of mercy kindles into praise ; 
 
 And wilds, familiar with the lion’s roar, 
 
 Ring with ecstatic sounds unheard before. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 658. DAY. Beginning the 
 
 Begin the day with God ! 
 
 He is thy sun and day ; 
 
 His is the radiance of thy dawn, 
 
 To Him address thy lay. 
 
 Sing a new song at morn ! 
 
 Join the glad woods and hills ; 
 
 Join the fresh winds and seas and plains, 
 Join the bright flowers and rills. 
 
 Awake, cold lips, and sing ! 
 
 Arise, dull knees, and pray ; 
 
 Lift up, O man, thy heart and eyes ; 
 
 Brush slothfulness away. 
 
 Take thy first meal with God ! 
 
 He is thy heavenly food ; 
 
 Feed with and on Him ; He with thee 
 Will feast in brotherhood. 
 
 Take thy first walk with God ! 
 
 Let Him go forth with thee ; 
 
 By stream or sea or mountain-path, 
 
 Seek still His company. 
 
 Thy first transaction be 
 With God Himself above ; 
 
 So shall thy business prosper well, 
 
 And all the day be love.— Bonar. 
 
 659. DAY. Dawn of 
 
 A wind came up out of the sea, 
 
 And said, ‘ O mists, make room for me!’ 
 
 It hail’d the ships, and cried, ‘ Sail on, 
 
 Ye mariners, the night is gone.’ 
 
 And hurried landward far away, 
 
 Crying, ‘ Awake ! it is the day. ’ 
 
 It said unto the forest, ‘ Shout! 
 
 Hang all your leafy banners out ! ’ 
 
 It touch’d the wood-bird’s folded wing, 
 
 And said, ‘ O bird, awake and sing ! ’ 
 
 And o’er the farms, ‘ O chanticleer, 
 
 Your clarion blow ; the day is near! ’ 
 
DAY 
 
 DA Y OF JUDGMENT 
 
 i 
 
 
 jo 
 
 It whisper’d to the fields of corn, 
 
 ‘ Bow down, and hail the coming mom ! ’ 
 
 It shouted through the belfry-tower, 
 
 ‘ Awake, O bell ! proclaim the hour. ’ 
 
 It cross’d the churchyard with a sigh, 
 
 And said, ‘ Not yet! in quiet lie.’— Longfellow. 
 
 660. DAY. Lost 
 
 Lost ! lost! lost! 
 
 A gem of countless price, 
 
 Cut from the living rock, 
 
 And graved in Paradise : 
 
 Set round with three times eight 
 Large diamonds, clear and bright, 
 
 And each with sixty smaller ones, 
 
 All changeful as the light. 
 
 Lost where the thoughtless throng 
 In fashion’s mazes wind, 
 
 Where trilleth folly’s song, 
 
 Leaving a sting behind. 
 
 Yet to my hand ’twas given, 
 
 A golden harp to buy, 
 
 Such as the white-robed choir attune 
 To deathless minstrelsy. 
 
 Lost! lost! lost! 
 
 I feel all search in vain ; 
 
 That gem of countless cost 
 Can ne’er be mine again : 
 
 I offer no reward,— 
 
 For till these heart-strings sever 
 I know that Heaven’s intrusted gift 
 Is reft away for ever. 
 
 But when the sea and land, 
 
 Like burning scroll, have fled, 
 
 I’ll see it in His hand, 
 
 Who judgeth quick and dead ; 
 
 And when of scathe and loss 
 That man can ne’er repair, 
 
 The dread inquiry meets the soul, 
 
 What shall it answer there ? 
 
 Mrs Sigourney. 
 
 661. DAY. Question for each 
 
 At evening to myself I say, 
 
 Soul, where hast thou glean’d to-day, 
 
 Thy labours how bestow’d ? 
 
 What hast thou rightly said, or done ? 
 
 What grace attain’d, or knowledge won, 
 
 In following after God?— Charles Wesley. 
 
 662. DAY. Rainy 
 
 The day is cold, and dark, and dreary ; 
 
 It rams, and the wind is never weary ; 
 
 The vine still clings to the mouldering wall, 
 
 But at every gust the dead leaves fall, 
 
 And the day is dark and dreary. 
 
 My life is cold, and dark, and dreary ; 
 
 It rains, and the wind is never weary; 
 
 My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past, 
 
 But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast, 
 And the days are dark and dreary. 
 
 Be still, sad heart ! and cease repining; 
 
 Behind the clouds is the sun still shining; 
 
 Thy fate is the common fate of all, 
 
 Into each life some rain must fall, 
 
 Some days must be dark and dreary. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 663. DAY OF JUDGMENT : a day of joy. 
 
 Lo, the Day !—the Day of Life, 
 
 Day of unimagined light, 
 
 Day when Death itself shall die, 
 
 And there shall be no more night ! 
 
 Steadily that Day approacheth, 
 
 When the just shall find their rest, 
 
 When the wicked cease from troubling, 
 
 And the patient reign most blest. 
 
 See the King desired for ages, 
 
 By the just expected long, 
 
 Long implored, at length He hasteth, 
 Cometh with salvation strong. 
 
 Oh, how past all utterance happy, 
 
 Sweet, and joyful it will be 
 When they who, unseen, have loved Him, 
 Jesus face to face shall see ! 
 
 In that Day, how good and pleasant 
 This poor world to have despised ! 
 
 And how mournful, and how bitter, 
 
 Dear that lost world to have prized! 
 
 Blessed, then, earth’s patient mourners, 
 Who for Christ have toil’d and died, 
 Driven by the world’s rough pressure 
 In those mansions to abide ! 
 
 There shall be no sighs or weeping, 
 
 Not a shade of doubt or fear ; 
 
 No old age, no want, or sorrow, 
 
 Nothing sick or lacking there. 
 
 There the peace will be unbroken, 
 
 Deep and solemn joy be shed, 
 
 Youth in fadeless flower and freshness, 
 
 And salvation perfected. 
 
 What will be the bliss and rapture 
 None can dream and none can tell, 
 
 There to reign among the angels, 
 
 In that heavenly home to dwell. 
 
 I 
 
DA Y OF JUDGMENT 
 
 134 
 
 DEAD 
 
 To those realms, just Judge, oh, call me ! 
 
 Deign to open that blest gate, 
 
 Thou whom, seeking, looking, longing, 
 
 I, with eager hope, await! 
 
 Tr. from the Latin by Mrs Charles. 
 
 664. DAY OF JUDGMENT. Dies Ira. 
 
 Day of wrath ! that Day foretold 
 By the saints and seers of old, 
 
 Shall the world in flames infold. 
 
 What a trembling, what a fear, 
 
 When the dread Judge shall appear, 
 Strictly searching far and near ! 
 
 Hark ! the trumpet’s wondrous tone, 
 Through the tombs of every zone, 
 Summons all before the throne. 
 
 Death shall shiver, nature quake, 
 
 When the creatures shall awake, 
 
 Answer to their Judge to make. 
 
 Lo, the book of ages spread, 
 
 From which all the deeds are read 
 Of the living and the dead. 
 
 Now, before the Judge severe, 
 
 Hidden things must all appear ; 
 
 Nought shall pass unpunish’d here. 
 
 Wretched man, what shall I plead, 
 
 Who for me will intercede, 
 
 When the righteous mercy need ? 
 
 King of dreadful majesty, 
 
 Author of salvation free, 
 
 Fount of pity, save Thou me ! 
 
 Recollect, good Lord, I pray, 
 
 I have caused Thy bitter way : 
 
 Don’t forget me on that Day ! 
 
 Weary sat’st Thou seeking me, 
 
 Died’st, redeeming, on the tree, 
 
 Let such toil not fruitless be! 
 
 Judge of righteousness severe, 
 
 Grant me full remission here, 
 
 Ere the reckoning-Day appear. 
 
 Sighs and tears my sorrow speak, 
 
 Shame and grief are on my cheek : 
 
 Mercy, mercy, Lord! I seek. 
 
 Thou didst Mary’s guilt forgive, 
 
 And absolve the dying thief: 
 
 Even I may hope relief. 
 
 Worthless are my prayers, I know ; 
 
 Yet, O Christ! Thy mercy show : 
 
 Save me from eternal woe ! 
 
 Make me with Thy sheep to stand, 
 
 Far from the convicted band, 
 
 Placing me at Thy right hand. 
 
 When the cursed are put to shame, 
 
 Cast into devouring flame, 
 
 With the blest then call my name ! 
 
 Suppliant at Thy feet I lie, 
 
 Contrite in the dust I cry : 
 
 Care Thou for me when I die ! 
 
 Thomas of Celano , tr. by Schaff. 
 
 665. DAYS : not to be despised. 
 
 Why do we heap huge mounds of years before us 
 and behind, 
 
 And scorn the little days that pass like angels on the 
 wind ? 
 
 Each turning round a small, sweet face as beautiful 
 as near, 
 
 Because it is so small a face we will not see it clear ; 
 And so it turns from us, and goes away in sad dis¬ 
 dain ; 
 
 Though we could give our lives for it, it never comes 
 again. 
 
 666. DEAD. State of the 
 
 Hamlet. To be, or not to be,—that is the question: 
 Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer 
 The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, 
 
 Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, 
 
 And, by opposing, end them ?—To die,—to sleep ;— 
 No more ; and, by a sleep, to say we end 
 The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks 
 That flesh is heir to,—’tis a consummation 
 Devoutly to be wish’d. To die,—to sleep ;— 
 
 To sleep ! perchance to dream :—ay, there’s the rub ; 
 For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, 
 When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, 
 
 Must give us pause : there’s the respect 
 That makes calamity of so long life ; 
 
 For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, 
 The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely, 
 The pangs of despised love, the law’s delay, 
 
 The insolence of office, and the spurns 
 That patient merit of the unworthy takes, 
 
 When he himself might his quietus make 
 With a bare bodkin ? who would fardels bear, 
 
 To grunt and sweat under a weary life, 
 
 But that the dread of something after death— 
 
 That undiscover’d country, from whose bourn 
 No traveller returns—puzzles the will, 
 
 And makes us rather bear those ills we have, 
 
 Than fly to others that we know not of? 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
DEA TH 
 
 135 
 
 DEATH 
 
 667. DEATH : a blessed transition. 
 
 Out of the shadows of sadness, 
 Into the sunshine of gladness, 
 Into the light of the Blest; 
 
 Out of a land very dreary, 
 
 Out of the world of the weary, 
 Into the rapture of Rest. 
 
 Out of to-day’s sin and sorrow, 
 Into a blissful to-morrow, 
 
 Into a day without gloom ; 
 
 Out of a land fill’d with sighing ; 
 Land of the dead and the dying ; 
 Into a land without tomb. 
 
 
 
 
 Out of a life of commotion, 
 Tempest-swept oft as the ocean, 
 
 Dark with the wrecks drifting o’er ; 
 Into a land calm and quiet, 
 
 Never a storm cometh nigh it— 
 
 Never a wreck on its shore. 
 
 Out of a land in whose bowers 
 Perish and fade all the flowers— 
 
 Out of the land of decay; 
 
 Into the Eden where fairest 
 Of flow’rets, and sweetest and rarest, 
 Never shall wither away. 
 
 Out of the world of the wailing, 
 Throng’d with the anguish’d and ailing, 
 Out of the world of the sad ; 
 
 Into the world that rejoices ; 
 
 World of bright visions and voices ; 
 
 Into the world of the glad. 
 
 Out of a life ever lornful, 
 
 Out of a land very mournful, 
 
 Where in bleak exile we roam ; 
 
 Into a joy-land above us, 
 
 Where there’s a Father to love us ; 
 
 Into ‘ Our Home, Sweet Home.’— Ryan. 
 
 668. DEATH. A Child’s 
 
 Full short his journey was ; no dust 
 Of earth unto his sandals clave ; 
 
 The weary weight that old man must, 
 
 He bore not to the grave. 
 
 He seem’d a cherub who had lost his way 
 
 And wander’d hither, so his stay 
 
 With us was short, and ’twas most meet 
 
 That he should be no delver in earth’s clod, 
 Nor need to pause and cleanse his feet 
 To stand before his God : 
 
 O blest word—Evermore !— Lowell. 
 
 669. DEATH. A Christian’s 
 
 • 
 
 You tell me I am dying ; 
 
 Is this to die ? 
 
 In sweet composure lying, 
 
 No thought of pain or sighing: 
 
 Is Death so nigh ? 
 
 I feel no fear in dying; 
 
 Is this to die? 
 
 On Jesus’ grace relying, 
 
 No doubt my calm heart trying, 
 
 Serene I lie. 
 
 Where is the sting of dying, 
 
 If thus I die ? 
 
 My soul in peace replying, 
 
 To love all-satisfying, 
 
 And Christ so nigh ! 
 
 Why should I shrink from dying 
 When thus I die ? 
 
 My Faith its watchword crying, 
 
 My Love with banner flying, 
 
 In victory. 
 
 From Earth to Heaven is dying? 
 
 I joy to die ! 
 
 The blissful ramparts nighing, 
 
 Their light and glories spying, 
 
 I mount on high. 
 
 My Saviour comes in dying, 
 
 In Him I die ! 
 
 With His soft call complying, 
 
 On His warm bosom lying, 
 
 To live I die. — Taylor, 
 
 670. DEATH : a departure described. 
 
 In the June twilight, in the soft, grey twilight, 
 
 The yellow sun-glow trembling through the rainy 
 eve, 
 
 As my love lay quiet, came the solemn fiat, 
 
 ‘ All these things for ever, for ever thou must 
 leave.’ 
 
 My love she sank down quivering, like a pine in 
 tempest shivering, 
 
 ‘ I have had so little happiness as yet beneath the 
 sun; 
 
 I have call’d the shadow sunshine, and the merest 
 frosty moonshine 
 
 I have, weeping, bless’d the Lord for, as if day¬ 
 light had begun. 
 
 ‘ Till He sent a sudden angel, with a glorious sweet 
 evangel, 
 
 Who turn’d all my tears to pearl-gems, and crown’d 
 me, — so little worth ; 
 
DEATH 
 
 136 
 
 DEATH 
 
 
 Me! and through the rainy even changed my poor 
 earth into heaven, 
 
 Or, by wondrous revelation, brought the heavens 
 down to earth. 
 
 ‘ Oh the strangeness of the feeling !—oh the infinite 
 revealing, — 
 
 To think how God must love me to have made 
 me so content! 
 
 Though I would have served Him humbly, and 
 patiently, and dumbly, 
 
 Without any angel standing in the pathway that I 
 went.’ 
 
 In the June twilight, in the lessening twilight, 
 
 My love cried from my bosom an exceeding bitter 
 cry: 
 
 ‘ Lord, wait a little longer, until my soul is stronger ! 
 Oh wait till Thou hast taught me to be content to 
 die ! ’ 
 
 Then the tender face, all woman, took a glory super¬ 
 human, 
 
 And she seem’d to watch for something, or see 
 some I could not see : 
 
 From my arms she rose full-statured, all transfigured, 
 queenly-featured, — 
 
 ‘ As Thy will is done in heaven, so on earth still 
 let it be ! ’ 
 
 I go lonely, I go lonely, and I feel that earth is only 
 The vestibule of palaces whose courts we never 
 win: 
 
 Yet I see my palace shining, where my love sits 
 amaranths twining, 
 
 And I know the gates stand open, and I shall 
 enter in !— D. M. Muloch . 
 
 671. DEATH: a passage. 
 
 Death’s but a path that must be trod 
 If man would ever pass to God.— Parnell. 
 
 What is death 
 
 To him who meets it with an upright heart ? 
 
 A quiet haven, where his shatter’d bark 
 Harbours secure, till the rough storm is past. 
 Perhaps a passage overhung with clouds 
 But at its entrance ; a few leagues beyond 
 Opening to kinder skies, and milder suns, 
 
 And seas pacific as the soul that seeks them. 
 
 Hurdis. 
 
 672. DEATH. A Poet’s 
 
 The dew is on the summer’s greenest grass, 
 
 Through which the modest daisy blushing peeps ; 
 
 The gentle wind, that like a ghost doth pass, 
 
 A waving shadow on the corn-fields keeps ; 
 
 But I who love them all shall never be 
 
 Again among the woods, or on the moorland lea ! 
 
 The sun shines sweetly—sweeter may it shine— 
 Bless’d is the brightness of a summer’s day ; 
 
 It cheers lone hearts ; and why should I repine, 
 Although among green fields I cannot stray ? 
 Woods ! I have grown, since last I heard you wave, 
 Familiar with death, and neighbour to the grave ! 
 
 These words have shaken mighty human souls— 
 Like a sepulchre’s echo drear they sound— 
 
 E’en as the owl’s wild whoop at midnight rolls 
 The ivied remnants of old ruins round. 
 
 Yet wherefore tremble? Can the soul decay?— 
 
 Or that which thinks and feels in aught e’er fade 
 away ? 
 
 Are there not aspirations in each heart 
 After a better, brighter world than this ? 
 
 Longings for beings nobler in each part— 
 
 Things more exalted—steep’d in deeper bliss? 
 Who gave us these ? What are they ? Soul! in thee 
 The bud is budding now for immortality ! 
 
 1 Death comes to take me where I long to go ; 
 
 One pang, and bright blooms the immortal flower; 
 Death comes to lead me from mortality 
 
 To lands which know not one unhappy hour:— 
 
 I have a hope, a faith ;—from sorrow here 
 
 I’m led by death away—why should I start and fear? 
 
 If I have loved the forest and the field, 
 
 Can I not love them deeper, better, there ? 
 
 If all that power hath made, to me doth yield 
 
 Something of good and beauty—something fair— 
 Freed from the grossness of mortality, 
 
 May I not love them all, and better all enjoy ? 
 
 A change from woe to joy—from earth to heaven, 
 Death gives me this—it leads me calmly where 
 The souls that long ago from mine were riven 
 
 May meet again ! Death answers many a prayer. 
 Bright day ! shine on—be glad :—Days brighter far 
 Are stretch’d before my eyes than those of mortal are! 
 
 I would be laid among the wildest flowers, 
 
 I would be laid where happy hearts can come :— 
 The worthless clay I heed not; but in hours 
 Of gushing noontide joy, it may be some 
 Will dwell upon my name ; and I will be 
 A happy spirit there, affection’s look to see. 
 
 Death is upon me, yet I fear not now:— 
 
 Open my chamber-window—let me look 
 Upon the silent vales—the sunny glow— 
 
 That fills each alley, close, and copsewood 
 nook :— 
 
 I know them—love them—mourn not them to leave, 
 Existence and its change my spirit cannot grieve ! 
 
 Nicoll. 
 
137 
 
 DEATH 
 
 DEATH 
 
 573. DEATH : a sleep. 
 
 Asleep in Jesus ! blessed sleep, 
 
 From which none ever wakes to weep, 
 
 A calm and undisturb’d repose, 
 
 Unbroken by the last of foes ! 
 
 Asleep in Jesus ! oh, how sweet 
 To be for such a slumber meet! 
 
 With holy confidence to sing 
 
 That death hath lost his venom’d sting. 
 
 Asleep in Jesus ! peaceful rest, 
 
 Whose waking is supremely blest ; 
 
 No fear, no woe, shall dim that hour, 
 
 That manifests the Saviour’s power. 
 
 Asleep in Jesus ! oh for me 
 May such a blissful refuge be ; 
 
 Securely shall my ashes lie, 
 
 Waiting the summons from on high ! 
 
 Asleep in Jesus ! time nor space 
 Debars this precious ‘ hiding-place ; 
 
 On Indian plains, or Lapland snows, 
 Believers find the same repose. 
 
 Asleep in J esus ! far from thee 
 Thy kindred and their graves may be ; 
 
 But thine is still a blessed sleep, 
 
 From which none ever wakes to weep ! 
 
 Margaret Mackay. 
 
 >74. DEATH. Best time for 
 
 D could we choose the time, and choose aright, 
 s best to die, our honour at the height, 
 len we have done our ancestors no shame, 
 t served our friends, and well secured our fame ; 
 1 en should we wish our happy life to close, 
 
 I d leave no more for fortune to dispose ; 
 should we make our death a glad relief 
 )m future shame, from sickness, and from grief: 
 joying while we live the present hour, 
 d dying in our excellence and flower, 
 len round our death-bed every friend should run, 
 
 i d joyous of our conquest early won: 
 lile the malicious world with envious tears, 
 jould grudge our happy end, and wish it theirs. 
 
 Drydtn. 
 
 1)75. DEATH: cannot be delayed. 
 
 No kings nor nations 
 
 One moment can retard th’ appointed hour. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 All has its date below. The fatal hour 
 Was register’d in heaven ere time began. 
 
 We turn to dust, and all our mightiest works 
 Die too.— Cowper. 
 
 676. DEATH. Chamber of 
 
 The death-bed of the just! is yet undrawn 
 By mortal hands ; it merits a Divine: 
 
 Angels should paint it ; angels ever there, 
 
 There on a post of honour and of joy. 
 
 The chamber where the good man meets his fate 
 Is privileged beyond the common walk 
 Of virtuous life, quite in the verge of heaven. 
 
 Here, tired dissimulation drops her mask ; 
 
 Through life’s grimace, that mistress of the scene ! 
 Here, real and apparent are the same. 
 
 You see the man ; you see his hold on heaven, 
 
 If sound his virtue. . . . 
 
 Heaven waits not the last moment; owns her friends 
 On this side death ; and points them out to men: 
 
 A lecture silent, but of sovereign power ! 
 
 To vice, confusion—and to virtue, peace. — Young. 
 
 677. DEATH : comes to all. 
 
 To now my glory smear’d in dust and blood! 
 
 My parks, my walks, my manors that I had, 
 
 Ev’n now forsake me ; and of all my lands 
 Is nothing left me, but my body’s length ! 
 
 Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and dust ? 
 And live we how we can, yet die we must. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 From earth all came, to earth must all return, 
 Frail as the cord, and brittle as the urn.— Prior. 
 
 Since every man who lives is bom to die, 
 
 And none can boast sincere felicity, 
 
 With equal mind what happens let us bear, 
 
 Nor joy nor grieve for things beyond our care. 
 Like pilgrims to the appointed place we tend ; 
 The world’s an inn, and death the journey’s end. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 The best, the dearest fav’rite of the sky 
 Must taste that cup ; for man is born to die. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, 
 
 And all that beauty, all that wealth e’er gave, 
 Await alike the inevitable hour : 
 
 The paths of glory lead but to the grave. 
 
 Gray. 
 
 Time rolls his ceaseless course. The race of yore, 
 Who danced our infancy upon their knee, 
 
 And told our marvelling boyhood legends store 
 Of strange adventures happ’d by land or sea, 
 
 How are they blotted from the things that be! 
 
 Scott. 
 
 Oft, too, when that disheartening fear 
 Which all who love beneath this sky 
 Feel when they gaze on what is dear, — 
 
 The dreadful thought that it must die!— Moore. 
 
DEATH 
 
 138 
 
 DEATH 
 
 The black camel death kneeleth once at each door, 
 And a mortal must mount to return nevermore. 
 
 Oriental , tr. by W. R. Alger. 
 
 678. DEATH : comfort for the dying. 
 
 Alone ! to land alone upon that shore ! 
 
 With no one sight that we have seen before ; 
 Things of a different hue, 
 
 And the sounds all new, 
 
 And fragrances so sweet, the soul may faint; 
 Alone ! Oh that first hour of being a saint! 
 
 Alone! to land alone upon that shore ! 
 
 On which no wavelets lisp, no billows roar ; 
 Perhaps no shape of ground, 
 
 Perhaps no sight or sound, 
 
 No form of earth our fancies to arrange. 
 
 But to begin alone that mighty change! 
 
 Alone ! to land alone upon that shore! 
 
 Knowing so well we can return no more! 
 
 No voice or face of friend, 
 
 None with us to attend 
 Our disembarking on that awful strand. 
 
 But to arrive alone in such a land I 
 
 Alone ! to land alone upon that shore ! 
 
 To begin alone to live for evermore ! 
 
 To have no one to teach 
 The manners or the speech 
 Of that new life, or put us at our ease,— 
 
 Oh that we might die in pairs or companies! 
 
 Alone ? No ! God hath been there long before ; 
 Eternally hath waited on that shore 
 For us who were to come 
 To our eternal home. 
 
 And He hath taught His angels to prepare 
 In what way we are to be welcomed there. 
 
 Like one that waits and watches, He hath sat 
 As if there were none else for whom to wait— 
 Waiting for us, for us 
 Who keep Him waiting thus, 
 
 And who bring less to satisfy His love 
 Than any other of the souls above. 
 
 Alone ? The God we know is on that shore, 
 
 The God of whose attractions we know more 
 Than of those who may appear 
 Nearest and dearest here. 
 
 Oh is He not the life-long Friend we know 
 More privately than any friend below ? 
 
 Alone ? The God we trust is on that shore ; 
 
 The faithful One, whom we have trusted more 
 In trials and in woes 
 Than we have trusted those 
 
 On whom we lean’d most in our earthly strife: 
 Oh we shall trust Him more in that new life! 
 
 Alone ? The God we love is on that shore ; 
 Love not enough, yet whom we love far more, 
 And whom we’ve loved all through, 
 
 And with a love more true 
 Than other loves,—yet we shall love far more: 
 True love of Him begins upon that shore. 
 
 So not alone we land upon that shore ; 
 
 ’Twill be as though we had been there before ; 
 We shall meet more we know 
 Than we can meet here below, 
 
 And find our rest, like some returning dove, 
 
 And be at home at once with our Eternal Love ! 
 
 Faber. 
 
 679. DEATH. Comfort in 
 
 Will toys amuse, when med’cines cannot cure? 
 When spirits ebb, when life’s enchanting scenes 
 Their lustre lose, and lessen in our sight, 
 
 As lands and cities, with their glittering spires, 
 
 To the poor shatter’d bark by sudden storm 
 Thrown off to sea, and soon to perish there ? 
 
 Will toys amuse? No: thrones will then be toys, 
 And earth and skies seem dust upon the scale. 
 
 Young. 
 
 Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul; 
 Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raise, 
 And his last faltering accents whisper’d praise. 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 That tender farewell on the shore 
 Of this rude world, when all is o’er, 
 
 Which cheers the spirit, ere its bark 
 Puts off into the unknown dark.— Moore. 
 
 680. DEATH : conquered. 
 
 In the bonds of Death He lay. 
 
 Who for our offence was slain : 
 
 But the Lord is risen to-day, 
 
 Christ hath brought us life again ! 
 
 Wherefore let us all rejoice, 
 
 Singing loud, with cheerful voice: 
 
 Hallelujah ! 
 
 Of the sons of men was none 
 
 Who could break the bonds of Death: 
 
 Sin this mischief dire had done, 
 
 Innocent was none on earth ; 
 
 Wherefore Death grew strong and bold, 
 
 Would all men in his prison hold : 
 
 Hallelujah ! 
 
 Jesus Christ, God’s only Son, 
 
 Came at last our foe to smite ; 
 
DEATH 
 
 All our sins away hath done, 
 
 Done away Death’s power and right; 
 
 Only the form of Death is left, 
 
 Of his sting he is bereft: 
 
 Hallelujah ! 
 
 That was a wondrous war I trow, 
 
 When Life and Death together fought; 
 
 But Life hath triumph’d o’er his foe, 
 
 Death is mock’d and set at nought; 
 
 ’Tis even as the Scripture saith, 
 
 Christ through death has conquer’d Death: 
 
 Hallelujah ! 
 
 The rightful Paschal Lamb is He, 
 
 On whom alone we all must live, 
 
 Who to death upon the tree, 
 
 Himself in wondrous love did give. 
 
 Faith strikes His blood upon the door, 
 
 Death sees, and dares not harm us more: 
 
 Hallelujah !— Martin Luther. 
 
 681. DEATH. Contemplating 
 
 Yes, ’tis the hand 
 Df Death I feel press heavy on my vitals, 
 
 Slow sapping the warm current of existence. 
 
 My moments now are few—the sand of life 
 Ebbs fastly to its finish. Yet a little, 
 
 And the last fleeting particle will fall 
 Silent, unseen, unnoticed, unlamented. 
 
 Come, then, sad Thought, and let us meditate, 
 
 While meditate we may. We have now 
 But a small portion of what men call time 
 To hold communion ; for even now the knife, 
 
 The separating knife, I feel divide 
 
 The tender bond that binds my soul to earth. 
 
 Y es, I must die—I feel that I must die ; 
 
 \nd though to me has life been dark and dreary, 
 [’hough Hope for me has smiled but to deceive, 
 
 \nd disappointment still pursued her blandishments, 
 Yet do I feel my soul recoil within me 
 \.s I contemplate the dim gulf of Death, 
 
 The shuddering void, the awful blank—futurity. 
 
 Ay, I had plann’d full many a sanguine scheme 
 Df earthly happiness—romantic schemes, 
 
 \.nd fraught with loveliness ; and it is hard 
 To feel the hand of Death arrest one’s steps, 
 
 Throw a chill blight o’er all one’s budding hopes, 
 Vnd hurl one’s soul untimely to the shades, 
 
 .x>st in the gaping gulf of blank oblivion. 
 r ifty years hence, and who will hear of Henry? 
 
 )h ! none ; another busy brood of beings 
 Yill shoot up in the interim ; and none 
 Yill hold him in remembrance. I shall sink 
 V.s sinks a stranger in the crowded streets 
 )f busy London: some short bustle’s caused, 
 
 139 DEATH 
 
 A few inquiries, and the crowds close in, 
 
 And all’s forgotten.— H. K. White. 
 
 682. DEATH. Court of 
 
 For within the hollow crown, 
 
 That rounds the mortal temples of a king, 
 
 Keeps Death his court; and there the antick sits 
 Scoffing his state, and grinning at his pomp ; 
 Allowing him a breath, a little scene 
 To monarchize, be fear’d, and kill with looks ; 
 Infusing him with self and vain conceit, 
 
 As if this flesh, which walls about our life, 
 
 Were brass impregnable: and, humour’d thus, 
 
 Comes at the last, and with a little pin 
 
 Bores through his castle-walls, and farewell king ! 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 683. DEATH. Desire for 
 
 To languish for his native air 
 
 Can the poor wandering exile cease ? 
 
 The tired his wish of rest forbear? 
 
 The tortured help desiring ease ? 
 
 The slave no more for freedom sigh, 
 
 Or I no longer pine to die ? 
 
 As shipwreck’d mariners desire 
 
 With eager grasp to reach the shore ; 
 
 As hirelings long to obtain their hire, 
 
 And veterans wish their warfare o’er ; 
 
 I languish from this earth to flee, 
 
 And gasp for immortality.— Charles Wesley. 
 
 684. DEATH : dreadful to the worldling. 
 
 How shocking must thy summons be, O Death ! 
 To him that is at ease in his possessions, 
 
 Who, counting on long years of pleasure here, 
 
 Is quite unfurnish’d for that world to come ! 
 
 In that dread moment, how the frantic soul 
 Raves round the walls of her clay tenement, 
 
 Runs to each avenue, and shrieks for help, 
 
 But shrieks in vain! How wishfully she looks 
 On all she’s leaving, now no longer hers ! 
 
 A little longer, yet a little longer, 
 
 Oh, might she stay, to wash away her stains, 
 
 And fit her for her passage ! Mournful sight! 
 
 Her very eyes weep blood, and every groan 
 She heaves is big with horror; but the foe, 
 
 Like a stanch murderer, steady to his purpose, 
 Pursues her close through every lane of life, 
 
 Nor misses once the track, but presses on, 
 
 Till, forced at last to the tremendous verge, 
 
 At once she sinks to everlasting ruin.— Blair. 
 
 685. DEATH. Duty the best preparation for 
 
 If I were told that I must die* to-morrow, 
 
 That the next, sun 
 
 { 
 
DEATH 
 
 140 
 
 DEATH 
 
 Which sinks should bear me past all fear and sorrow 
 For any one, 
 
 All the fight fought, all the short journey through, 
 What should I do ? 
 
 I do not think that I should shrink or falter, 
 
 But just go on, 
 
 Doing my work, nor change, nor seek to alter 
 Aught that is gone ; 
 
 But rise, and move, and love, and smile, and pray 
 For one more day. 
 
 And lying down at night, for a last sleeping, 
 
 Say in that ear 
 
 Which hearkens ever, ‘ Lord, within Thy keeping, 
 How should I fear? 
 
 And when to-morrow brings Thee nearer still, 
 
 Do Thou Thy will.’ 
 
 I might not sleep for awe ; but peaceful, tender, 
 
 My soul would lie 
 
 All the night long ; and when the morning splendour 
 Flash’d o’er the sky, 
 
 I think that I could smile,—could calmly say, 
 
 ‘ It is His day.’ 
 
 But if a wondrous hand from the blue yonder 
 Held out a scroll 
 
 On which my life was writ, and I with wonder 
 Beheld unroll 
 
 To a long century’s end its mystic clew, 
 
 What should I do ? 
 
 What could I do, O blessed Guide and Master ! 
 Other than this,— 
 
 Still go on as now, not slower, faster, 
 
 Nor fear to miss 
 
 The road, although so very long it be, 
 
 While led by Thee ? 
 
 Step by step, feeling Thee close beside me, 
 
 Although unseen; 
 
 Through thorns, through flowers, whether the tem¬ 
 pest hide Thee, 
 
 Or heavens serene,— 
 
 Assured Thy faithfulness cannot betray, 
 
 Thy love decay. 
 
 I may not know, my God ; no hand revealeth 
 Thy counsels wise ; 
 
 Along the path no deepening shadow stealeth ; 
 
 No voice replies 
 
 To all my questioning thought, the time to tell, 
 
 And it is well. 
 
 \ 
 
 Let me keep on, abiding and unfearing 
 Thy will always ; 
 
 Through a long century’s ripening fruition, 
 
 Or a short day’s ; 
 
 Thou canst not come too soon; and I can wait 
 If Thou come late ! 
 
 686. DEATH. Early 
 
 Last night, on coughing slightly, with sharp pain 
 There came arterial blood, and with a sigh 
 Of absolute grief I cried in bitter vein, 
 
 That drop is my death-warrant: I must die. 
 
 Poor, meagre life is mine, meagre and poor ! 
 
 Rather a piece of childhood thrown away ; 
 
 An adumbration faint; the overture 
 
 To stifled music ; year that ends in May ; 
 
 The sweet beginning of a tale unknown,— 
 
 All its deep rich vermilion crush’d and kill’d 
 I’ th’ bud by frost :—Thus in false fear I cried, 
 Forgetting that to abolish death Christ died. 
 
 Gray. 
 
 687. DEATH: encouragement for the dying. 
 
 Happy soul! thy days are ended, 
 
 All thy mourning days below : 
 
 Go, by angel guards attended, 
 
 To the sight of Jesus go ! 
 
 Waiting to receive thy spirit, 
 
 Lo, the Saviour stands above, 
 
 Shows the purchase of His merit, 
 
 Reaches out the crown of love ! 
 
 Struggle through thy latest passion 
 To thy dear Redeemer’s breast, 
 
 To His uttermost salvation, 
 
 To His everlasting rest! 
 
 For the joy He sets before thee, 
 
 Bear a momentary pain ; 
 
 Die, to live the life of glory ; 
 
 Suffer, with thy Lord to reign ! 
 
 Charles Wesley. 
 
 688. DEATH. Equality in 
 
 What is death? ’Tis to be free, 
 
 No more to love or hope or fear, 
 
 To join the great equality ; 
 
 All, all alike are humbled there. 
 
 The mighty grave 
 Wraps lord and slave ; 
 
 Nor pride nor poverty dares come 
 Within that refuge-house—the tomb.— Croly. 
 
 It is a monitory truth, I ween, 
 
 That, turning up the ashes of the grave, 
 
 One can discern no difference between 
 The richest sultan and the poorest slave. 
 
 Oriental, tr. by IV. R. Alger. 
 
DEATH 
 
 DEA TH 
 
 141 
 
 689. DEATH : feared. 
 
 Ah, what a sign it is of evil life 
 
 When death’s approach is seen so terrible ! 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Poor abject creatures ! how they fear to die 
 Who never knew one happy hour in life, 
 
 Yet shake to lay it down ! Is load so pleasant ? 
 Or has Heaven hid the happiness of death, 
 
 That man may dare to live ? Dryden. 
 
 690. DEATH : foreseen and feared. 
 
 £ach son of Adam’s family beheld, 
 
 Yhere’er he turn’d, whatever path of life 
 EPe trod, thy goblin form before him stand, 
 
 Like trusty old assassin, in his aim 
 Steady and sure as eye of destiny, 
 
 With scythe, and dart, and strength invincible, 
 Equipp’d, and ever menacing his life. 
 
 He turn’d aside, he drown’d himself in sleep, 
 
 In wine, in pleasure; travell’d, voyaged, sought 
 Receipts for health from all he met; betook 
 To business speculate ; retired ; return d 
 Again to active life ; again retired ; 
 
 Return’d ; retired again ; prepared to die ; 
 
 Talk’d of thy nothingness; conversed of life 
 To come ; laugh’d at his fears ; fill’d up the cup; 
 Drank deep ; refrain’d ; fill’d up ; refrain’d again ; 
 Plann’d; built him round with splendour, won 
 
 applause ; 
 
 Made large alliances with men and things ; 
 
 Read deep in science and philosophy, 
 
 To fortify his soul; heard lectures prove 
 The present ill, and future good ; observed 
 His pulse beat regular ; extended hope ; 
 
 Thought, dissipated thought, and thought again ; 
 Indulged, abstain’d, and tried a thousand schemes 
 To ward thy blow, or hide thee from his eye , 
 
 But still thy gloomy terrors, dipp’d in sin, 
 
 Before him frown’d, and wither’d all his joy. 
 
 Still, fear’d and hated thing, thy ghostly shape 
 Stood in his avenues of fairest hope ; 
 
 Unmannerly, and uninvited, crept 
 Into his haunts of most select delight: 
 
 Still, on his halls of mirth, and banqueting, 
 
 And'revelry, thy shadowy hand was seen 
 Writing thy name of-Death. Vile worm, that 
 
 gnaw’d 
 
 The root of all his happiness terrene ; the gall 
 Of all his sweet ; the thorn of every rose 
 Of earthly bloom ; cloud of his noon-day sky ; 
 
 Frost of his spring ; sigh of his loudest laugh , 
 
 Dark spot on every form of loveliness ; 
 
 Rank smell amidst his rarest spiceries ; 
 
 Harsh dissonance of all his harmony ; 
 
 Reserve of every promise, and the if 
 Of all to-morrows.— Pollok. 
 
 691. DEATH : forgotten. 
 
 Behold the inexorable hour at hand ! 
 
 Behold the inexorable hour forgot ! 
 
 And to forget it the chief aim of life, 
 
 Though well to ponder it is life’s chief end. 
 
 Is death, that ever-threatening, ne’er remote, 
 
 That all-important, and that only sure, 
 
 (Come when he will) an unexpected guest ? 
 
 Nay, though invited by the loudest calls 
 Of blind imprudence, unexpected still, 
 
 Though numerous messengers are sent before 
 To warn his great arrival. What the cause, 
 
 The wondrous cause, of this mysterious ill ? 
 
 All heaven looks down, astonish d at the sight. 
 
 Is it that Life has sown her joys so thick 
 We can’t thrust in a single care between ? 
 
 Is it that Life has such a swarm of cares, 
 
 The thought of death can’t enter for the throng ? 
 
 Is it that Time steals on with downy feet, 
 
 Nor wakes indulgence from her golden dream ? 
 To-day is so like yesterday, it cheats , 
 
 We take the lying sister for the same. 
 
 Life glides away, Lorenzo, like a brook, 
 
 For ever changing, unperceived the change. . 
 
 In the same brook none ever bathed him twice : 
 
 To the same life none ever twice awoke. . 
 
 We call the brook the same ; the same we thin 
 Our life, though still more rapid in its flow, 
 
 Nor mark the much irrevocably lapsed, 
 
 And mingled with the sea. Or shall we say 
 (Retaining still the brook to bear us on) 
 
 That life is like a vessel on the stream ? 
 
 In life embark’d, we smoothly down the tide 
 Of time descend, but not on time intent; 
 
 Amused, unconscious of the gliding wave, 
 
 Till on a sudden we perceive a shock. „ 
 
 We start—awake—look out. W hat see we t rere . 
 Our brittle bark is burst on Charon’s shore. 
 
 Is this the cause death flies all human thought . 
 Or is it judgment by the will struck blind, 
 
 That domineering mistress of the soul ! 
 
 Like him so strong by Delilah the fair ? 
 
 Or is it fear turns startled reason back, 
 
 From looking down a precipice so steep ? 
 
 ’Tis dreadful; and the dread is wisely placed 
 By nature, conscious of the make of man. 
 
 A dreadful friend it is, a terror kind, 
 
 A flaming sword to guard the tree of life. 
 
 By that unawed, in life’s most smiling hour. 
 
 The good man would repine ; would suffer joys. 
 And burn impatient for his promised skies. 
 
 The bad, on each punctilious pique of pride, 
 
DEATH 
 
 142 
 
 DEATH 
 
 Or gloom of humour, would give rage the rein, 
 Bound o’er the barrier, rush into the dark, 
 
 And mar the schemes of providence below.— Young. 
 
 692. DEATH: forgotten. 
 
 They pass’d their precious hours in plays and sports, 
 -OH Death behind came stalking on unseen. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 All men think all men mortal but themselves. 
 
 693. DEATH. Fruits of 
 
 Young. 
 
 hen Death strikes down the innocent and young, 
 For every fragile form from which he lets 
 The parting spirit free, 
 
 A hundred virtues rise, 
 
 In shapes of mercy, charity, and love, 
 
 To walk the world and bless it. 
 
 Of every tear 
 
 That son owing mortals shed on such green graves, 
 Some good is born, some gentler nature comes. 
 
 Dickens. 
 
 694. DEATH. Gain by 
 
 1 GO to life and not to death ; 
 
 From darkness to life’s native sky ; 
 
 I go from sickness and from pain 
 To health and immortality. 
 
 Let our farewell, then, be tearless, 
 
 Since I bid farewell to tears; 
 
 Write this day of my departure 
 Festive in your coming years. 
 
 I go from poverty to wealth, 
 
 From rags to raiment angel-fair. 
 
 From the pale leanness of this flesh 
 To beauty such as saints shall wear. 
 
 I go from chains to liberty, 
 
 These fetters will be broken soon ; 
 
 Forth over Eden’s fragrant fields 
 I walk beneath a glorious noon. 
 
 For toil there comes the crowned rest ; 
 
 Instead of burdens, eagles’ wings ; 
 
 And I, ev’n I, this life-long thirst 
 Shall quench at everlasting springs. 
 
 God lives ! Who says that I must die ? 
 
 I cannot, while Jehovah liveth ! 
 
 Christ lives ! I cannot die, but live ; 
 
 He life to me for ever giveth. — Bojiar. 
 
 695. DEATH : God’s angel. 
 
 Two angels, one of Life and one of Death, 
 
 Pass d o er the village as the morning broke; 
 
 The dawn was on their faces, and beneath 
 
 The sombre houses, hearsed with plumes of smoke. 
 
 Their attitude and aspect was the same, 
 
 Alike their features, and their robes of white ; 
 
 But one was crown’d with amaranth as a flame/ 
 
 And one with asphodels like flakes of lio-ht 
 
 I saw them pause on their celestial way; 
 
 Then said I, with deep fear and doubt oppress’d, 
 
 * - Beat not so loud > m y heart, lest thou betray 
 The place where thy beloved are at rest! ’ 
 
 And he who wore the crown of asphodels, 
 Descending at my door, began to knock ; 
 
 And my soul sank within me, as in wells 
 1 he water sinks, before an earthquake’s shock. 
 
 I lecognized the nameless agony, 
 
 The terror, and the tremor, and the pain, 
 
 That oft before had fill’d and haunted me, 
 
 And now return’d with threefold strength again. 
 
 The dooi I open d to my heavenly guest, 
 
 And listen’d, for I thought I heard God’s voice; 
 And, knowing whatsoe’er He sent was best, 
 
 Dared neither to lament nor to rejoice. 
 
 Then, with a smile that fill’d the house with light, 
 
 ‘ My errand is not death, but life,’ he said ; 
 
 And > ere I answer’d, passing out of sight, 
 
 On his celestial embassy he sped. 
 
 ’Twas at thy door, O friend, and not at mine, , 
 
 The angel with the amaranthine wreath, 
 
 Pausing, descended, and, with voice divine, 
 
 Whisper’d a word that had a sound like ‘death.’ 
 
 Then fell upon the house a sudden gloom, 
 
 A shadow on those features fair and thin, 
 
 And, softly from the hush’d and darken’d room, 
 
 Two angels issued, where but one went in. 
 
 All is of God ! if He but w^ave His hand, 
 
 The mists collect, the rains fall thick and loud, 
 
 Till, with a smile of light on sea and land, 
 
 Lo ! He looks back from the departing cloud. 
 
 Angels of Life and Death alike are His; 
 
 M ithout His leave they pass no threshold o’er; 
 
 Who, then, would wish or dare, believing this, 
 
 Against His messenger to shut the door? 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 696. DEATH. Heathen view of 
 
 What has this bugbear Death to frighten men, 
 
 If souls can die as well as bodies can ? 
 
 For, as before our birth we felt no pain, 
 
 M hen Punic arms infested land and main, 
 
DEATH 
 
 143 
 
 DEATH 
 
 When heaven and earth were in confusion hurl’d, 
 For the debated empire of the world, 
 
 Which awed with dreadful expectation lay, 
 
 Sure to be slaves, uncertain who should sway; 
 
 So, when our mortal frame shall be disjoin’d, 
 
 The lifeless lump uncoupled from the mind, 
 
 From sense of grief and pain we shall be free ; 
 
 We shall not feel, because we shall not be. 
 
 Lucretius , tr. by John Dryden. 
 
 697. DEATH. Hope in 
 
 There came a little child, with sunny hair, 
 
 All fearless to the brink of death’s dark river, 
 
 And with a sweet confiding in the care 
 Of Him who is of life the joy and giver ; 
 
 And as upon the waves she left our sight, 
 
 We heard her say, ‘ My Saviour makes them bright.’ 
 
 Next came a youth, with bearing most serene, 
 
 Nor turn’d a single backward look of sadness ; 
 
 But as he left each gay and flowery scene, 
 
 Smiling declared, ‘ My soul is thrill’d with glad¬ 
 ness ; i 
 
 What earth deems bright, for ever I resign, 
 
 Joyful but this to know, that Christ is mine!’ 
 
 An aged mourner, trembling, totter’d by, 
 
 And paused a moment by the swelling river ; 
 
 Then glided on beneath the shadowy sky, 
 
 Singing, ‘ Christ Jesus is my strength for ever : 
 Upon His arm my feeble soul I lean ; 
 
 My glance meets His without a space between.’ 
 
 And scarce her last triumphant note had died, 
 
 Ere hasten’d on a man of wealth and learning, 
 
 Who cast at once his bright renown aside, 
 
 These only words unto his friends returning : 
 
 ‘ Christ for my wisdom thankfully I own, 
 
 And as a little child I seek His throne.’ 
 
 Then saw I this—that, whether guileless child, 
 
 Or youth, or age, or genius, won salvation, 
 
 Each self-renouncing came ; on each God smiled; 
 
 Each found the love of Christ rich compensation 
 For loss of friends—earth’s pleasures and renown ; 
 Each enter’d heaven, and ‘ by His side sat down.’ 
 
 698. DEATH : how soon its lessons are forgotten. 
 
 We bleed, we tremble—we forget, we smile. 
 
 The mind turns fool before the cheek is dry. 
 
 Our quick returning folly cancels all 
 
 As the tide rushing razes what is writ 
 
 In yielding sands, and smooths the letter’d shore. 
 
 Young. 
 
 699. DEATH: how the fear of it is to be over 
 come. 
 
 There are who tell me I should be 
 So firm of faith, so void of fear, 
 
 So fill’d with calm, courageous cheer 
 (Assured through Christ’s security 
 There is a place prepared), that I 
 Should dare not be afraid to die. 
 
 They question of the nameless dread 
 With lifted brow, as if I let 
 Untoward human weakness fret 
 My spirit overmuch, and tread 
 
 Through even sunshine paths beneath 
 The ever conscious chill of death. 
 
 They talk about the fuller life, 
 
 Ungarmented of clinging clay ; 
 
 And marvel I should care to stay 
 ’Mid the distraction and the strife 
 
 That rasp the flesh and blur the eye— 
 
 Since only they are safe who die. 
 
 Who calls it cowardice to shrink 
 Before the avouchment that not one 
 Of all time’s myriad myriads—none 
 Whose feet have cross’d the fatal brink— 
 
 Has ever come to breathe life’s breath 
 Again, and tell us what is death ? 
 
 We know that into outmost space, 
 
 Snatch’d sheer of earth, the spirit goes, 
 
 Alone, stark, silent. But who knows 
 The awful whitherward ?—the place 
 That never any mortal eye 
 Had glimpse of, into which we die ? 
 
 Who knows ? God only. On His word 
 I wholly rest, I solely lean— 
 
 The single voice that sounds between 
 Th’ eternities ! No ear hath heard 
 One whisper else, one faintest breath, 
 
 That hath reveal’d the why of death. 
 
 I think of all who’ve pass’d the strife— 
 
 Wan women, who have fail’d to face 
 With bravery of timorous grace 
 The daily apprehensive life— 
 
 Who yet, with passionate arms stretch’d high, 
 Through ecstasy, could smile and die. 
 
 Sweet, tender children, who would scare 
 To walk beneath the dark alone, 
 
 With none whose hand might hold their own, 
 Who’ve met the Terror unaware, 
 
 And call’d it, with their passing breath, 
 
 An angel, dreaming not ’twas Death. 
 
DEA TH 
 
 U4 
 
 DEATH 
 
 And I am comforted. Because 
 
 The grace that bore these tremblers through 
 Can fold its strength about me too, 
 
 And show me that my quailing was, 
 
 As theirs, a phantom that will fly, 
 Dawn-smitten, when I come to die. 
 
 Hope, a fair vision, calm and bright, 
 
 Points where my risen Lord hath lain ; 
 
 And Faith accepts His bitter pain 
 (My other angel clothed in white !), 
 
 As borne for love of me, and saith : 
 
 ‘ Behold ! He slays the slayer, Death ! ’ 
 
 Therefore I cleave with simple trust, 
 
 Amid my griefs, amid my fears, 
 
 Through the procession of my years, 
 
 The years that bear me back to dust, 
 
 And cry: ‘ Ah ! Christ, if Thou be nigh, 
 
 I shall be strong and glad to die. ’ 
 
 Margaret J. Preston. 
 
 700. DEATH : impartial. 
 
 We look at man, and wonder at such odds 
 ’Twixt things that were the same by birth : 
 
 We look on kings as giants of the earth; 
 
 These giants are but pigmies to the gods. 
 
 The humblest bush, and proudest oak, 
 
 Are but of equal proof against the thunder-stroke. 
 Beauty, and strength, and wit, and wealth, and 
 power, 
 
 Have their short flourishing hour ; 
 
 And love to see themselves and smile, 
 
 And joy in their pre-eminence awhile ; 
 
 Ev’n so, in the same land, 
 
 Poor weeds, rich corn, gay flowers, together stand: 
 Alas ! death mows down all with an impartial hand. 
 
 Cowley. 
 
 701. DEATH : inevitable. 
 
 Men must endure 
 
 Their going hence, even as their coming hither. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 We cannot hold mortality’s strong hand. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 702. DEATH : is going home. 
 
 Safe home, safe home in port! 
 
 Rent cordage, shatter’d deck, 
 
 Torn sails, provisions short, 
 
 And only not a wreck : 
 
 But, oh, the joy upon the shore 
 To tell our voyage-perils o’er ! 
 
 Bare all he could endure, 
 
 And bare not always well: 
 
 But he may smile at troubles gone, 
 Who sets the victor-garland on ! 
 
 No more the foe can harm ! 
 
 No more of leaguer’d camp, 
 
 And cry of night-alarm, 
 
 And need of ready lamp: 
 
 And yet how nearly he had fail’d ! 
 How nearly had that foe prevail’d ! 
 
 The lamb is in the fold, 
 
 In perfect safety penn’d ; 
 
 The lion once had hold, 
 
 And thought to make an end: 
 
 But One came by with wounded side, 
 And for the sheep the Shepherd died ! 
 
 ■f. 
 
 h 
 
 The exile is at home ! 
 
 O nights and days of tears ! 
 
 O longings not to roam ! 
 
 O sins and doubts and fears ! 
 
 A 
 
 What matter now, when, so men say, 
 
 The King has wiped those tears away ! 
 
 O happy, happy bride ! 
 
 Thy widow’d hours are past, 
 
 The Bridegroom at thy side, 
 
 Thou all His own at last! 
 
 The sorrows of thy former cup 
 In full fruition swallow’d up ! 
 
 St Joseph of the Studium, tr. by J. M. Neale. 
 
 703. DEATH : is release. 
 
 If one had watch’d a prisoner many a year, 
 Standing behind a barred window-pane, 
 
 Fetter’d with heavy handcuff and with chain, 
 
 And gazing on the blue sky, far and clear ; 
 
 And suddenly some morning he should hear 
 The man had in the night contrived to gain 
 His freedom, and was safe, would this bring pain ? 
 Ah ! would it not to dullest heart appear 
 Good tidings ? 
 
 Yesterday I look’d on one 
 Who lay as if asleep in perfect peace. 
 
 His long imprisonment for life was done. 
 
 Eternity’s great freedom his. release 
 Had brought. Yet they who loved him call’d him 
 dead, 
 
 And wept, refusing to be comforted.— Helen Hunt. 
 
 704. DEATH : its approach. 
 
 The prize, the prize secure ! 
 The athlete nearly fell; 
 
 I feel death rising higher still, and higher 
 Within my bosom ; every breath I fetch 
 
DEA TIT 
 
 145 
 
 DEA TH 
 
 Shuts up my life within a shorter compass: 
 
 And, like the vanishing sound of bells, grows less 
 And less each pulse, till it be lost in air.— Dryden. 
 
 705. DEATH : its period uncertain. 
 
 Leaves have their time to fall, 
 
 And flowers to wither at the north wind’s breath, 
 And stars to set—but all, 
 
 Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death ! 
 
 Day is for mortal care, 
 
 Eve for glad meetings round the joyous hearth, 
 Night for the dreams of sleep, the voice of prayer,— 
 But all for thee, thou mightiest of the earth. 
 
 The banquet hath its hour, 
 
 Its feverish hour of mirth, and song, and wine ; 
 
 There comes a day for grief’s o’erwhelming power, 
 A time of softer tears—but all are thine. 
 
 Youth and the opening rose 
 May look like things too glorious for decay, 
 
 And smile at thee ; but thou art not of those 
 That wait the ripen’d bloom to seize their prey. 
 
 We know when moons shall wane, 
 
 When summer birds from far shall cross the sea, 
 When Autumn’s hue shall tinge the golden grain ; 
 But who shall teach us when to look for thee ? 
 
 Mrs Hemans. 
 
 706. DEATH : its place and period uncertain. 
 
 Thou inevitable day, 
 
 When a voice to me shall say, 
 
 ‘ Thou must rise and come away; 
 
 ‘ All thine other journeys past, 
 
 Gird thee, and make ready fast 
 For thy longest and thy last,’— 
 
 Day deep-hidden from our sight 
 In impenetrable night, 
 
 Who may guess of thee aright ? 
 
 Art thou distant, art thou near ? 
 
 Wilt thou seem more dark or clear? 
 
 Day with more of hope or fear ? 
 
 Wilt thou come, not seen before 
 Thou art standing at the door, 
 
 Saying,—light and life are o’er? 
 
 Or with such a gradual pace, 
 
 As shall leave me largest space 
 To regard thee face to face ? 
 
 Shall I lay my drooping head 
 On some loved lap ; round my bed 
 Prayer be made, and tears be shed ? 
 
 Or at distance from mine own, 
 
 Name and kin alike unknown, 
 
 Make my solitary moan? 
 
 Will there yet be things to leave, 
 
 Hearts to which this heart must cleave, 
 
 From which, parting, it must grieve? 
 
 Or shall life’s best ties be o’er, 
 
 And all loved things gone before 
 To that other happier shore ? 
 
 Shall I gently fall on sleep, 
 
 Death, like slumber, o’er me creep, 
 
 Like a slumber sweet and deep ? 
 
 Or the soul long strive in vain 
 To get free, with toil and pain, 
 
 From its half-divided chain? 
 
 Little skills it where or how, 
 
 If thou comest then or now, 
 
 With a smooth or angry brow. 
 
 Come thou must, and we must die: 
 
 Jesus, Saviour, stand Thou by, 
 
 When that last sleep seals our eye. — Trench. 
 
 707. DEATH : its power. 
 
 By thee high thrones to earth are flung— 
 
 By thee the sword and sceptre rust— 
 
 By thee the beautiful and young 
 Lie mouldering in the dust. 
 
 Into thy cold and faded reign 
 
 All glorious things of earth depart; 
 
 The fairest forms are early slain, 
 
 And quench’d the fiery heart. — Colton. 
 
 708. DEATH : may come without warning. 
 
 They tell me a solemn story, but it is not sad to me, 
 For in its sweet unfolding my Saviour’s love I see; 
 They say that, at any moment, the Lord of life may 
 come, 
 
 To lift me from this cloud-land into the light of 
 home. 
 
 They say I may have no warning ; I may not even 
 hear 
 
 The rustling of His garments as He softly draweth 
 near ; 
 
 Suddenly, in a moment, upon my ear may fall 
 The summons to leave our homestead, to answer the 
 Master’s call. 
 
 Perhaps He will come in the noontide of some bright 
 and sunny day, 
 
 When, with dear ones all around me, my life seems 
 bright and gay. 
 
 10 
 
DEATH 
 
 146 
 
 DEATH 
 
 Pleasant must be the pathway, easy the shining road, 
 
 Up from this dimmer sunlight into the light) of God. 
 
 Perhaps He will come in the stillness of the mild and 
 quiet night, 
 
 When the earth is calmly sleeping ’neath the moon¬ 
 beam’s silvery light, 
 
 When the stars are softly shining o’er slumbering 
 land and sea, 
 
 Perhaps in the holy stillness the Master will come 
 for me. 
 
 I think I would rather hear it, that Voice so low and 
 sweet, 
 
 Calling me out from the shadows, my blessed Lord 
 to meet, 
 
 Up through the glowing splendours of a starry, 
 earthly night, 
 
 To ‘see the King in His beauty,’ in a land of purer 
 light. 
 
 709. DEATH. Meeting after 
 
 What a world were this, 
 
 How unendurable its weight, if they 
 
 Whom death hath sunder’d did not meet again! 
 
 Southey. 
 
 710. DEATH. Mors janua vitee. 
 
 All day the sun hath hid his face, 
 
 The sky is one dull leaden cloud, 
 
 Joy seemeth but a vanish’d dream, 
 
 And grief and gloom the world enshroud. 
 
 Across the river’s sullen waves 
 
 With ceaseless moan the chill winds blow, 
 And through the storm I hear afar 
 The church-bell tolling sad and slow. 
 
 O blessed dead ! though ‘ dust to dust ’ 
 
 The winds with wailing voice repeat, 
 
 And wild as Love’s rebellious tears 
 The sobbing rains above thee beat, 
 
 For thee earth’s Winter, bleak and drear, 
 
 Hath changed to never-ending Spring ; 
 
 For thee the heavenly amaranths bloom, 
 
 And birds in happy valleys sing ; 
 
 And yet we kneel beside the grave 
 
 With all God’s wise decrees at strife,— 
 
 O doubting hearts, so slow to learn 
 That Death is but the door of Life! 
 
 We follow not on wings of faith 
 
 The freed soul soaring swift and far, 
 
 Nor see, beyond the azure fields, 
 
 Christ’s hand the golden gate unbar. 
 
 Our sad tears blind us to the light 
 
 Of heaven’s glad day, serene and long; 
 
 We chant our dirges, and forget 
 The rapture of the angels’ song. 
 
 Mary B. Sleight. 
 
 711. DEATH. Mors janua vitce. 
 
 Yes, He is risen who is the First and Last; 
 
 Who was and is ; who liveth and was dead : 
 
 Beyond the reach of death He now has pass’d, 
 
 Of the one glorious Church the glorious Head. 
 
 The tomb is empty ; so, ere long, shall be 
 The tombs of all who in this Christ repose ; 
 
 They died with Him who died upon the tree, 
 
 They live and rise with Him who lived and rose. 
 
 Death has not slain them ; they are freed, not slain : 
 
 It is the gate of life, and not of death, 
 
 That they have enter’d ; and the grave in vain 
 Has tried to stifle the immortal breath. 
 
 All that was death in them is now dissolved ; 
 
 For death can only what is death’s destroy ; 
 
 And, when this earth’s short ages have revolved, 
 
 The disimprison’d life comes forth with joy. 
 
 | Their life-long battle with disease and pain 
 And mortal weariness is over now : 
 
 Youth, health, and comeliness return again ; 
 
 The tear has left the cheek, the sweat the brow. 
 
 They are not tasting death, but taking rest, 
 
 On the same holy couch where Jesus lay, 
 
 Soon to awake all glorified and blest, 
 
 When day has broke and shadows fled away. 
 
 Bonar. 
 
 712. DEATH. Mystery of 
 
 See before us in our journey broods a mist upon the 
 ground ; 
 
 Thither leads the path we walk in, blending with 
 that gloomy bound. 
 
 Never eye hath pierced its shadows to the mystery 
 they screen, 
 
 Those who once have pass’d within it, never more on 
 earth are seen. 
 
 Now it seems to stoop beside us, now at seeming 
 distance lowers, 
 
 Leaving banks that tempt us onward bright with 
 summer green and flowers. 
 
 Yet it blots the way for ever; there our journey ends 
 at last: 
 
 Into that dark cloud we enter and are gather’d to the 
 past. 
 
 Thou who in this flinty pathway, leading through a 
 stranger land, 
 
 Passeth down the rocky valley, walking with me 
 hand in hand, 
 
DEATH 
 
 147 
 
 DEATH 
 
 Which of us shall be the soonest folded to that dim 
 Unknown, 
 
 Which shall leave the other walking in this flinty 
 path alone ? 
 
 Even now I see thee shudder, and thy cheek is white 
 with fear, 
 
 And thou clingest to my side as the dark mist comes 
 sweeping near. 
 
 ‘Here,’ thou say’st, ‘the path is nigged, sown with 
 thorns that wound the feet; 
 
 But the shelter’d glens are lovely, and the rivulet’s 
 song is sweet : 
 
 Roses breathe from tangled thickets; lilies bend 
 from ledges brown; 
 
 Pleasantly between the pelting showers the sunshine 
 gushes down. 
 
 Far be yet the hour that takes me where that chilly 
 shadow lies, 
 
 From the things I know and love, and from the sight 
 of loving eyes. ’ 
 
 So thou murmurest, fearful one, but see, we tread a 
 rougher way ; 
 
 Fainter grow the gleams of sunshine that upon the 
 dark rocks play ; 
 
 Rude winds strew the faded flowers upon the crags 
 o’er which we pass ; 
 
 Banks of verdure, when we reach them, hiss with 
 tufts of wither’d grass. 
 
 Yet upon the mist before us fix thine eyes with closer 
 view, 
 
 See, beneath its sullen skirts the rosy morning glim¬ 
 mers through. 
 
 One, whose feet the thorns have wounded, enter’d 
 thither and came back, 
 
 With a glory on His footsteps lighting yet the dreary 
 track. 
 
 Boldly enter where He enter’d : all that seems but 
 darkness here, 
 
 When thou once hast pass’d beyond it, haply shall be 
 crystal clear; 
 
 See from that serener realm the walks of human life 
 may lie 
 
 Like the page of some familiar volume open to mine 
 eye. 
 
 Haply from the o’erhanging shadow thou may’st 
 stretch an unseen hand 
 
 To support the wavering steps that print with blood 
 the rugged land. 
 
 Haply, leaning o’er the pilgrim all unweeting thou 
 art near, 
 
 Thou may’st whisper words of warning and of com¬ 
 fort in his ear, 
 
 Till, beyond the border where that brooding mystery 
 bars the sight, 
 
 Those whom thou hast fondly cherish’d stand with 
 thee in peace and light.— Bryant. 
 
 713- DEATH. Mystery of 
 
 That undiscover’d country, from whose bourn 
 No traveller returns.— Shakespeare. 
 
 I ere long that precipice must tread, 
 
 Whence none return, that leads unto the dead. 
 
 Sandys. 
 
 The rest are vanish’d, none repass the gate, 
 And not a man appears to tell their fate. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 714. DEATH. Nature of 
 
 What is death ? oh ! what is death ? 
 
 ’Tis the snapping of the chain ; 
 
 ’Tis the breaking of the bowl; 
 
 ’Tis relief from every pain ; 
 
 ’Tis freedom to the soul ; 
 
 ’Tis the setting of the sun 
 To rise again to-morrow, 
 
 A brighter course to run, 
 
 Nor sink again in sorrow. 
 
 Such is death ! yes, such is death ! 
 
 What is death? oh! what is death ! 
 
 ’Tis slumber to the weary ; 
 
 ’Tis rest to the forlorn; 
 
 ’Tis shelter to the dreary; 
 
 ’Tis peace amid the storm ; 
 
 ’Tis the entrance to our home ; 
 
 ’Tis the passage to that God 
 Who bids His children come 
 When their weary course is trod. 
 
 Such is death ! yea, such is death ! 
 
 715. DEATH: never really longed for. 
 
 Whatever crazy sorrow saith, 
 
 No life that breathes with human breath, 
 
 Has ever truly long’d for death. 
 
 ’Tis life whereof our nerves are scant; 
 
 Oh, life, not death, for which we pant ! 
 
 More life, and fuller, that I want !— Tennyson. 
 
 716. DEATH : not to be feared. 
 
 The sense of death is most in apprehension ; 
 And the poor beetle that we tread upon 
 In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great 
 As when a giant dies.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Cowards die many times before their deaths ; 
 
 The valiant never taste of death but once. 
 
 Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, 
 
 It seems to me most strange that men should fear; 
 Seeing that death, a necessary end, 
 
 Will come, when it will come.— Shakespeare. 
 
DEATH 
 
 DEATH 
 
 14S 
 
 This world death’s region is, the other life’s; 
 
 And here, it should be one of our first strifes, 
 
 So to front death, as each might judge us past it: 
 For good men but see death, the wicked taste it. 
 
 Jonson. 
 
 Death is not dreadful to a mind resolved, 
 
 It seems as natural as to be born. 
 
 Groans and convulsions, and discolour’d faces, 
 Friends weeping round us, blacks, and obsequies, 
 Make death a dreadful thing. The pomp of death 
 Is far more terrible than death itself.— Lee. 
 
 What life refused, to gain by death he thought: 
 
 For life and death are but indiff’rent things. 
 
 And of themselves not to be shunn’d nor sought, 
 But for the good or ill that either brings. 
 
 Earl of Stirling. 
 
 Fond, foolish man! with fear of death surprised, 
 Which either should be wish’d for, or despised : 
 This, if our souls with bodies death destroy ; 
 
 That, if our souls a second life enjoy : 
 
 What else is to be fear’d ? when we shall gain 
 Eternal life, or have no sense of pain.— Denham. 
 
 717. DEATH : not to be feared. 
 
 Why start at death? where is he? death arrived, 
 
 Is past; not come or gone, he’s never here. 
 
 Ere hope, sensation fails ; black-boding man 
 Receives, not suffers death’s tremendous blow. 
 
 The knell, the shroud, the mattock, and the grave ; 
 The deep damp vault, the darkness and the worm; 
 These are the bugbears of a winter’s eve, 
 
 The terrors of the living, not the dead. 
 
 Imagination’s fool, and error’s wretch, 
 
 Man makes a death, which nature never made; 
 
 Then on the point of his own fancy falls ; 
 
 And feels a thousand deaths, in fearing one. — Young. 
 
 Death is the crown of life : 
 
 Were death denied, poor man would live in vain. 
 Death wounds to cure; we fall, we rise, we reign ; 
 Spring from our fetters, fasten to the skies, 
 
 Where blooming Eden withers from our sight. 
 
 This king of terrors is the prince of peace.— Young. 
 
 718. DEATH : not to be feared. 
 
 Why should these eyes be tearful 
 For years too swiftly fled ? 
 
 And why these feet be fearful 
 The onward path to tread ? 
 
 Why should a chill come o’er me 
 At thoughts of death as near ? 
 
 Or when I see before me 
 The silent gates appear ? 
 
 Behold my Saviour dying ! 
 
 I hear His parting breath; 
 Entomb’d I see him lying, 
 
 A captive held of death ; 
 
 Yet peacefully He sleepeth, 
 
 No foe disturbs Him now, 
 
 And love divine still keepeth 
 Its impress on His brow. 
 
 But lo ! the seal is broken ! 
 
 Roll’d back the mighty stone, 
 
 In vain was set the token 
 
 That friend and foe should own. 
 
 The weeping Mary bending 
 Sees not her Saviour there ; 
 
 But sons of light attending 
 A joyful message bear. 
 
 The Lord is risen : He liveth, 
 
 The First-born from the dead ; 
 
 To Flim the Father giveth 
 To be creation’s Head. 
 
 O’er all for ever reigning, 
 
 Of death He holds the keys ; 
 
 And hell—his might constraining— 
 Obeys His high decrees. 
 
 Flies now the gloom that shaded 
 The vale of death to me ; 
 
 The terrors that invaded 
 Are lost, O Christ, in Thee! 
 
 The grave, no more appalling, 
 
 Invites me to repose ; 
 
 Asleep in Jesus falling, 
 
 To rise as Jesus rose. 
 
 Oh ! when to life awaking, 
 
 The night for ever gone, 
 
 My soul, this dust forsaking, 
 
 Puts incorruption on, 
 
 Lord, in Thy lustre shining, 
 
 In Thine own beauty drest, 
 
 My sun no more declining, 
 
 Thy service be my rest .—Ray Palmer. 
 
 719. DEATH : not to be sought. 
 
 If thou covet death, as utmost end 
 Of misery, so thinking to evade 
 The penalty pronounced, doubt not but God 
 Hath wiselier arm’d his vengeful ire, than so 
 To be forestall’d.— Milton. 
 
 To death I with such joy resort 
 As seamen from a tempest to their port; 
 
 Yet to that port ourselves we must not force, 
 Before our pilot, Nature, steers our course. 
 
 Denham. 
 
DEATH 
 
 149 
 
 DBA TH 
 
 720. DEATH : of how little it can bereave us. 
 
 Take them, O Death, and bear away 
 Whatever thou canst call thine own! 
 
 Thine image stamp’d upon this clay 
 Doth give thee that, but that alone. 
 
 Take them, O Grave, and let them lie 
 Folded upon thy narrow shelves, 
 
 As garments by the soul laid by, 
 
 And precious only to ourselves ! 
 
 Take them, O great Eternity ! 
 
 Our little life is but a gust, 
 
 That bends the branches of thy tree, 
 
 And trails its blossoms in the dust! 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 721. DEATH: of the gifted. 
 
 Why do we moan, and wonderingly complain, 
 
 And murmur, ‘ O mysterious ways of God ! 
 
 When the fine gold whence beams His image plain 
 Is stored within His innermost abode ? 
 
 It were mysterious if the Master’s hand 
 
 Lavish d its skill some choice work to prepare, 
 And then, unfinish’d, cast it on the strand 
 To perish incomplete and broken there. 
 
 But when the last completing touch is given, 
 
 The master-touch that all the rest inspires, 
 
 And the rich colours and the gold of heaven,— 
 Enamell’d in the last of many fires,— 
 
 Shine forth at length to full perfection wrought, 
 
 A vessel meet the Master’s House to grace, 
 
 A picture breathing with the Master’s thought, 
 
 A portrait beaming back the Master’s Face ;— 
 
 What wonder if His treasure then He take, 
 
 When earthly damps the burnish’d gold might 
 dim, 
 
 When careless hands the gracious formmight break, 
 Take to the Father’s House, within, with Him ? 
 
 What wonder, when the training of the schools 
 Has done such work as schools and lessons can; 
 When through the discipline of tasks and rules 
 The boy compacts, expands into the man,— 
 
 If to the field the Father bids him come, 
 
 Where manhood’s earnest standards are unfurl’d ? 
 Is not the school an exile from the home? 
 
 Is not the school the threshold of a world ? 
 
 Who wonders, when the finish’d gem is borne 
 Its light upon the sovereign’s brow to yield ?— 
 Who would not wonder if the ripen’d corn 
 Were left to perish on the harvest-field ? 
 
 | Yet we who wander o’er the leafless land, 
 
 Where golden seas waved musical and fair; 
 
 On us falls heavily, as thus we stand, 
 
 The blank and silence of the falling year. 
 
 Still at the school we miss the brother’s eye, 
 
 Whose working near us made us work our best, 
 Whose generous smile still drew our aims on high, 
 Whose ripe achievement shamed self-soothing rest. 
 
 We mourn, £ O God ! we needed him so much ! 
 
 Here are so many tangling coils to loose, 
 
 So many hearts that need the tenderest touch, 
 
 So few hands train’d like his to finest use ! 
 
 ‘And hast Thou thus through blows and fires,’ we 
 sigh, 
 
 And subtlest touches shaped this instrument 
 For choicest work, only to rest on high?’ 
 
 But swift the answer smites our discontent: 
 
 ‘ This earth is but for learning and for training, 
 Earth’s highest work but such as children do, 
 
 The workmen here their priceless skill are gaining, 
 The true life-work is yonder, out of view.’ 
 
 Lord, we would bow, while faith our grief controls, 
 And thank Thee for the liberating blow, 
 
 Which breaks these chains wherewith we cramp our 
 souls 
 
 To little rounded dreams of life below;— 
 
 Which shows this life doth but our life begin, 
 
 Is but outside, the porch of the Abode, 
 
 And death the going home, the entering in, 
 
 The stepping forth on the wide world of God. 
 
 E. C. 
 
 722. DEATH : of the gifted. 
 
 All who work for Him, 
 
 Both small and great, shall find a rich reward,— 
 
 No debt to them, but won by Jesus’ blood. 
 
 Whoever treads the path of holiness, 
 
 God’s hand shall keep. The weakest shall not fail, 
 And even a cup of water, for His sake 
 Bestow’d, He counts as precious ; but the man 
 Who used ten talents in his Master’s name, 
 
 And by his Master’s grace, wisely, and well, 
 
 Had the ten cities given him to rule. 
 
 He who gives grace, gives glory, and the wise 
 Shall shine before His face as doth the sun— 
 
 They who turn many unto righteousness 
 Be as the stars for ever. He, the Lord, 
 
 The source of life, and light, and intellect, 
 
 When a great heart was on His altar laid, 
 
 And a great mind was given to His cause, 
 
 Did He not prize the gift and know its worth, 
 
 Who gave the grace that kept it for Himself? 
 
DEATH 
 
 150 
 
 DEATH 
 
 And when that heart was set to do His work, 
 
 ’Mid failing strength that had been spent for Him 
 Before its time, and that long yearning grew 
 To see once more the far-off harvest-field, 
 
 Where all the years of sowing had been pass’d ; 
 Jesus who loves His own, and cares for them 
 In all their cares and griefs, did He not know, 
 
 And feel, and count most precious in His sight 
 That work of patience, and that heart’s desire, 
 Which yet He did not grant, because His time 
 Was come to give His servant higher life, 
 
 And say that 4 Well done,’ which must be the crown 
 Of bliss to finite spirits? All the way 
 By which the Lord had led him, weariness, 
 
 Sickness, or grief,—he knows the reason now, 
 
 And sees the Lord’s end in the light of heaven, 
 
 With every shadow gone, and more than rest. 
 
 C. M. S. 
 
 723. DEATH; of the gifted. 
 
 The death of those distinguish’d by their station, 
 But by their virtue more, awakes the mind 
 To solemn dread, and strikes a saddening awe. 
 
 Not that we grieve for them, but for ourselves, 
 
 Left to the toil of life. And yet the best 
 Are, by the playful children of this world, 
 
 At once forgot, as they had never been. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 Death loves a shining mark, a signal blow. 
 
 Young. 
 
 Can that man be dead 
 Whose spiritual influence is upon his kind ? 
 
 He lives in glory ; and his speaking dust 
 Has more of life than half its breathing moulds. 
 
 Miss London. 
 
 724. DEATH : of the just. 
 
 The bad man’s death is horror ; but the just 
 Keeps something of his glory in the dust. 
 
 Habington. 
 
 725. DEATH : our liberator. 
 
 The wisest men are glad to die; no fear 
 Of death can touch a true philosopher : 
 
 Death sets the soul at liberty to fly, 
 
 Which, whilst imprison’d in the body here, 
 
 She cannot learn.— May. 
 
 Then doth th’ aspiring soul the body leave, 
 
 Which we call death ; but were it known to all, 
 What life our souls do by this death receive, 
 
 Men would it birth or gaol delivery call.— Davies. 
 
 When death is coming near, 
 
 When thy heart shrinks in fear, 
 
 And thy limbs fail ; 
 
 Then raise thy hands and pray 
 To Him who smooths thy way 
 Through the dark vale. 
 
 Seest thou the eastern dawn ? 
 
 Hear’st thou in the red morn 
 The angels’ song ? 
 
 Oh lift thy drooping head, 
 
 Thou who in gloom and dread 
 Hast lain so long! 
 
 Death comes to set thee free : 
 
 Oh meet him cheerily 
 As thy true friend. 
 
 And all thy fears shall cease, 
 
 And in eternal peace 
 Thy penance end. 
 
 De La Motte Fouque. 
 
 726. DEATH. Postponement of 
 
 Tell me, some god ! my guardian angel, tell 
 What thus infatuates ? what enchantment plants 
 The phantom of an age ’twixt us and death, 
 
 Already at the door ? He knocks ; we hear him, 
 And yet we will not hear. What mail defends 
 Our untouch’d heart ? what miracle turns off 
 The pointed thought, which from a thousand quivers 
 Is daily darted, and is daily shunn’d ? 
 
 We stand as in a battle, throngs on throngs 
 Around us falling, wounded oft ourselves ; 
 
 Though bleeding with our wounds, immortal still! 
 We see Time’s furrows on another’s brow, 
 
 And Death intrench’d, preparing his assault: 
 
 How few themselves in that just mirror see ! 
 
 Or seeing, draw their inference as strong ! 
 
 There, Death is certain ; doubtful here ; he must, 
 And soon ; we may, within an age, expire. 
 
 1 hough grey our heads, our thoughts and aims are 
 green ! 
 
 Like damaged clocks, whose hand and bell dissent, 
 Folly sings six, while Nature points at twelve. 
 
 • Young. 
 
 727. DEATH. Postponement of 
 
 To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, 
 Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, 
 
 To the last syllable of recorded time ; 
 
 And all our yesterdays have .lighted fools 
 The way to dusty death.— Shakespeare. 
 
 To-morrow comes ; ’tis noon ; ’tis night; 
 
 This day like all the former flies ; 
 
 Yet on he runs to seek delight 
 
 To-morrow, till to-night he dies .— Prior. 
 
DEATH 
 
 DEATH 
 
 iSi 
 
 Since, howe’er protracted, death will come, 
 Why fondly study with ingenious pains 
 To put it off! To breathe a little longer 
 Is to defer our fate, but not to shun it. 
 
 Hannah More. 
 
 728. DEATH. Prayer in prospect of 
 
 Why am I loath to leave this earthly scene? 
 
 Have I so found it full of pleasing charms ? 
 Some drops of joy with draughts of ill between, 
 Some gleams of sunshine ’mid renewing storms : 
 Is it departing pangs my soul alarms ? 
 
 Or death’s unlovely, dreary, dark abode ? 
 
 For guilt, for guilt my terrors are in arms ! 
 
 I tremble to approach an angry God, 
 
 And justly smart beneath His sin-avenging rod ! 
 
 Fain would I say, 1 Forgive my foul offence,’ 
 
 Fain promise nevermore to disobey ; 
 
 But, should my Author health again dispense, 
 Again I might desert fair virtue’s way ; 
 
 Again in folly’s path might go astray ; 
 
 Again exalt the brute and sink the man ; 
 
 Then how should I for heavenly mercy pray, 
 Who act so counter heavenly mercy’s plan ! 
 
 Who sin so oft have mourn’d, yet to temptation ran ! 
 
 O Thou great Governor of all below ! 
 
 If I may dare a lifted eye to Thee ; 
 
 Thy nod can make the tempest cease to blow, 
 
 Or still the tumult of the raging sea : 
 
 With that controlling power assist ev’n me 
 Those headlong, furious passions to confine ; 
 
 For all unfit I feel my powers to be 
 To rule their torrent in the allowed line : 
 
 Oh aid me with Thy help, Omnipotence Divine ! 
 
 Burns. 
 
 729. DEATH. Premature 
 
 Death lies on her like an untimely frost 
 Upon the sweetest flower of all the field. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 So many worlds, so much to do, 
 
 So little done, such things to be, 
 
 How know I what had need of thee, 
 
 For thou wert strong as thou wert true? 
 
 The fame is quench’d that I foresaw, 
 
 The head hath miss’d an earthly wreath : 
 
 I curse not nature, no, nor death ; 
 
 For nothing is that errs from law. 
 
 We pass ; the path that each man trod 
 Is dim, or will be dim, with weeds: 
 
 What fame is left for human deeds 
 In endless age? It rests with God. 
 
 O hollow wraith of dying fame, 
 
 Fade wholly, while the soul exults, 
 
 And self-enfolds the large results 
 Of force that would have forged a name. 
 
 Tennyson. 
 
 730. DEATH. Preparation for 
 
 ’Tis our first intent 
 
 To shake all cares and business from our age, 
 Conferring them on younger strengths, whilst we 
 Unburthen’d crawl towards death.— Shakespeare. 
 
 If from society we learn to live, 
 
 ’Tis solitude should teach us how to die ; 
 
 It hath no flatterers: vanity can give 
 
 No hollow aid ; alone, man with his God must 
 strive.— Byron. 
 
 So live, that, when thy summons comes to join 
 The innumerable caravan, that moves 
 To that mysterious realm where each shall take 
 His chamber in the silent halls of death, 
 
 Thou go not like the quarry-slave at night 
 Scourged to his dungeon ; but, sustain’d and soothed 
 By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave 
 Like one that wraps the drapery of his couch 
 About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams. 
 
 Bryant. 
 
 731. DEATH. Presence of 
 
 Close the door lightly, 
 
 Bridle the breath, 
 
 Our little earth Angel 
 Is talking with Death ; 
 
 Gently he woos her, 
 
 She wishes to stay, 
 
 His arms are about her, 
 
 He bears her away ! 
 
 Music comes floating 
 Down from the dome ; 
 
 Angels are chanting 
 The sweet welcome home. 
 
 Come, stricken weeper ! 
 
 Come to the bed, 
 
 Gaze on the sleeper ; 
 
 Our idol is dead ! 
 
 Smooth out the ringlets, 
 
 Close the blue eyes ; 
 
 No wonder such beauty 
 Was claim’d in the skies ; 
 
 Cross the hands gently 
 O’er the white breast ; 
 
 So like a wild spirit 
 Stray’d from the blest, 
 
DEATH 
 
 152 
 
 DEATH 
 
 Bear her out softly, 
 
 This idol of ours, 
 
 Let her grave-slumbers 
 Be ’mid the sweet flowers. 
 
 732. DEATH. Providence in 
 
 When obedient nature knows His will, 
 
 A fly, a grape-stone, or a hair can kill.— Prior. 
 
 When mortal man resigns his breath, 
 
 ’Tis God directs the stroke of death ; 
 
 Casual howe’er the stroke appear, 
 
 He sends the fatal messenger. 
 
 The keys are in that Hand Divine ; 
 
 That Hand must first the warrant sign, 
 
 And arm the death, and wing the dart 
 Which doth His message to our heart. 
 
 Charles Wesley. 
 
 733 - DEATH. Readiness for 
 
 As precious gums are not for lasting fire, 
 
 They but perfume the temple, and expire ; 
 
 So was she soon exhaled, and vanish’d hence, 
 
 A short, sweet odour, of a vast expense. 
 
 She vanish’d, we can scarcely say she died ; 
 
 For but a now did heaven and earth divide ; 
 
 She pass’d serenely with a single breath ; 
 
 This moment perfect health, the next was death : 
 One sigh did her eternal bliss assure ; 
 
 So little penance needs, when souls are almost pure. 
 As gentle dreams our waking thoughts pursue ; 
 
 Or, one dream pass’d, we slide into a new ; 
 
 So close they follow, such wild order keep, 
 
 We think ourselves awake, and are asleep : 
 
 So softly death succeeded life in her: 
 
 She did but dream of heaven, and she was there. 
 
 No pains she suffer’d, nor expired with noise ; 
 Her soul was whisper’d out with God’s still voice ; 
 As an old friend is beckon’d to a feast, 
 
 And treated like a long-familiar guest. 
 
 He took her as He found, but found her so, 
 
 As one in hourly readiness to go : 
 
 E’en on that day, in all her trim prepared ; 
 
 As early notice she from heaven had heard, 
 
 And some descending courier from above 
 Had given her timely warning to remove ; 
 
 Or counsell’d her to dress the nuptial room, 
 
 For on that night the Bridegroom was to come. 
 He kept His hour, and found her where she lay 
 Clothed all in white, the livery of the day. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 734. DEATH. Readiness for 
 
 A wand’rer I’ve been, and have travell’d for years, 
 By the stage-coach, the steam-boat, the train ; 
 
 I have known joyful meetings, have shed parting 
 tears, 
 
 With friends I might ne’er meet again. 
 
 And I’ve leam’d—let my farewells be joyous or sad— 
 No haste or distraction to show, 
 
 But with baggage pre-check’d, and with passage pre¬ 
 paid, 
 
 To have nothing to do but to go. 
 
 The loiterer, when over the iron-clad track 
 The train is heard coming apace, 
 
 For his ticket will clamour, and urge for his check, 
 In a whirl of impatient distress ; 
 
 While others, more timeful, with undisturb’d mien, 
 Will composedly pace to and fro, 
 
 Or, quietly seated, will wait for the train, 
 
 With nothing to do but to go. 
 
 Oh ! thus—I have thought—when we’re call’d to 
 depart 
 
 For the land whence we never return, 
 
 May we feel we are fully prepared for the start, 
 
 M hen the death-sounding note we discern. 
 
 With our ticket secured, and our cares all at rest, 
 
 No disquieting thoughts may we know, 
 
 But tranquilly waiting be found at the last, 
 
 With nothing to do but to go.— T. D. James. 
 
 735 - DEATH: rebukes ambition. 
 
 Ill-weaved ambition, how much art thou shrunk ! 
 When that this body did contain a spirit, 
 
 A kingdom for it was too small a bound: 
 
 But now two paces of the vilest earth 
 Is room enough.— Shakespeai'e. 
 
 O mighty Caesar ! dost thou lie so low ? 
 
 Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils, 
 Shrunk to this little measure ?— Shakespeare. 
 
 Why should man’s high aspiring mind 
 Burn in him with so proud a breath ; 
 
 When all his haughty views can find 
 In this world, yield to death ; 
 
 The fair, the brave, the vain, the wise, 
 
 The rich, the poor, and great and small, 
 
 Are each but worms’ anatomies, 
 
 To strew his quiet hall.— Marvel. 
 
 736. DEATH. Rejoicing at 
 
 There is weeping on earth for the lost! 
 
 There is bowing in grief to the ground ! 
 
 But rejoicing and praise ’mid the sanctified host, 
 
 For a spirit in Paradise found ! 
 
 Though brightness hath pass’d from the earth, 
 
 Yet a star is new-bom in the sky, 
 
DEATH 
 
 153 
 
 DEATH 
 
 And a soul hath gone home to the land of its birth, 
 
 Where are pleasures and fulness of joy, 
 
 And a new harp is strung, and a new song is given 
 To the breezes that float o’er the garden of heaven ! 
 
 Burleigh. 
 
 737. DEATH : reveals character. 
 
 A death-bed’s a detector of the heart: 
 
 Here tired dissimulation drops her mask, 
 
 Through life’s grimace that mistress of the scene ; 
 
 Here real and apparent are the same.— Young. 
 
 738. DEATH : reveals the worth of our treasures. 
 
 Not to understand a treasure’s worth 
 Till time has stolen away the slighted good, 
 
 Is cause of half the poverty we feel, 
 
 And makes the world the wilderness it is. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 739 * DEATH: should be kept constantly in view. 
 
 On death and judgment, heaven and hell, 
 
 Who oft doth think, must needs die well. 
 
 Raleigh. 
 
 740. DEATH : should be submitted to cheerfully. 
 
 Comfort, dear mother: God is much displeased 
 
 That you take with unthankfulness His doing ; 
 
 In common worldly things ’tis call’d ungrateful 
 
 With dull unwillingness to repay a debt 
 
 Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent; 
 
 Much more to be thus opposite with Heaven, 
 
 For it requires the royal debt it lent you. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 741. DEATH. Shrinking from 
 
 With terror thou dost strike me now, life’s fearful 
 dying day ! 
 
 My heart is sad, my loins are weak, my spirit faints 
 away, 
 
 While, to my sadden’d soul, thy sight my anxious 
 thoughts display. 
 
 Who can that dreadful sight describe, or without 
 trembling see, 
 
 When from the ended course of life the weary soul 
 would flee, 
 
 And, sick of all the bonds of flesh, it struggles to be 
 free ? 
 
 The senses fail, the tongue is stiff, the eyes un¬ 
 certain stray; 
 
 The panting breath, the gasping throat, the coming 
 end betray ; 
 
 From palsied limbs, and pallid lips, all charm has 
 fled away. 
 
 Now spring at once to view past thoughts, and 
 words, and deeds, and life ; 
 
 Before unwilling eyes they come all crowding fresh 
 and rife, 
 
 And stand reveal’d before the mind, that shrinks 
 with timid strife. 
 
 And biting conscience tortures now the trembling, 
 guilty breast, 
 
 And weeps the loss of perish’d hours, that might 
 have given rest: 
 
 Too late repentance, full of grief, no proper fruit has 
 bless’d. 
 
 Of the false sweetness of the flesh, what bitterness 
 remains, 
 
 When the brief pleasure of this life is turn’d to end¬ 
 less pains, 
 
 And all life’s idols here below the dying hour dis¬ 
 dains ! 
 
 I pray, dear Jesus, grant me then, Thine own 
 almighty aid, 
 
 When I shall enter at the last in death’s dark valley 
 shade ; 
 
 Let not the tyrant foe, I pray, my trembling soul 
 invade. 
 
 Oh, from the prince of darkness, then, and hell’s 
 dark prison-save ! 
 
 And take me ransom’d to Thy home, Good Shepherd, 
 now I crave, 
 
 Where I may live in endless life, with Thee, be¬ 
 yond the grave ! 
 
 Cardinal Damiani , tr. by E. C. Benedict. 
 
 742. DEATH. Sudden 
 
 ‘ Servant of God, well done ; 
 
 Rest from thv loved employ; 
 
 The battle fought, the victory won, 
 
 Enter thy Master’s joy.’ 
 
 The voice at midnight came ; 
 
 He started up to hear, 
 
 A mortal arrow pierced his frame ; 
 
 He fell, but felt no fear. 
 
 Tranquil amidst alarms, 
 
 It found him in the field, 
 
 A veteran slumbering on his arms, 
 
 Beneath his red'-cross shield : 
 
 His sword was in his hand, 
 
 Still warm with recent fight ; 
 
 Ready that moment, at command, 
 
 Through rock and steel to smite. 
 
 At midnight came the cry, 
 
 ‘ To meet thy God prepare ! ’ 
 
 He woke, and caught his Captain’s eye ; 
 Then, strong in faith and prayer, 
 
DEATH 
 
 154 
 
 DEATH 
 
 His spirit, with a bound, 
 
 Burst its encumbering clay ; 
 
 His tent, at sunrise, on the ground 
 A darken’d rain lay. 
 
 The pains of death are past, 
 
 Labour and sorrow cease ; 
 
 And life’s long warfare closed at last, 
 
 His soul is found in peace. 
 
 Soldier of Christ! well done ; 
 
 Praise be thy new employ ; 
 
 And while eternal ages run, 
 
 Rest in thy Saviour’s joy. 
 
 Montgomery. 
 
 743. DEATH. Support in 
 
 ’Tis not the stoic’s lesson got by rote, 
 
 The pomp of words, and pedant dissertations, 
 That can sustain thee in that hour of terror : 
 
 Books have taught cowards to talk nobly of it; 
 But when the trial comes, they stand aghast. 
 
 Hast thou consider’d what may happen after it? 
 How thy account may stand, and what to answer ? 
 
 Rowe. 
 
 % 
 
 744. DEATH : terrible only to the happy. 
 
 Death ! to the happy thou art terrible ; 
 
 But how the wretched love to think of thee, 
 
 O thou true comforter; the friend of all 
 Who have no friend beside !— Southey. 
 
 745 - DEATH : the believer’s enfranchisement. 
 
 The Apostle sleeps,—a light shines in the prison,— 
 An angel touch’d his side, 
 
 ‘ Arise, ’ he said, and quickly he hath risen, 
 
 His fetter’d arms untied. 
 
 The watchmen saw no light at midnight gleaming, 
 They heard no sound of feet; 
 
 The gates fly open, and the saint, still dreaming, 
 Stands free upon the street. 
 
 So when the Christian’s eyelid droops and closes 
 In Nature’s parting strife, 
 
 A friendly angel stands where he reposes 
 To wake him up to life. 
 
 He gives a gentle blow, and so releases 
 The spirit from its clay ; 
 
 From sin’s temptations, and from life’s distresses, 
 
 He bids it come away. 
 
 It rises up, and from its darksome mansion 
 It takes its silent flight, 
 
 And feels its freedom in the large expansion 
 Of heavenly air and light. 
 
 746. DEATH : the end of cares. 
 
 Duncan is in his grave ; 
 
 After life’s fitful fever he sleeps well: 
 
 Treason has done his worst : nor steel, nor poison 
 Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing, 
 
 Can touch him further.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Death is the port where all may refuge find, 
 
 The end of labour, entry unto rest ; 
 
 Death hath the bounds of misery confined, 
 
 Whose sanctuary shrouds affliction best. 
 
 Earl of Stirling. 
 
 To die is landing on some silent shore, 
 
 Where billows never break, nor tempests roar ; 
 Ere well we feel the friendly stroke, ’tis o’er. 
 
 Garth. 
 
 When I rise again to life, 
 
 From the tranquil sleep of death, 
 
 And, released from earthly strife, 
 
 Breathe that morning’s balmy breath, 
 
 I shall wake to other thought : 
 
 The race is run, the fight is fought ; 
 
 All the pilgrim’s cares are dreams, 
 
 When that dawn of morning gleams ! 
 
 Klopstock. 
 
 747. DEATH : the end of our exile. 
 
 From Nature’s continent, immensely wide, 
 Immensely bless’d, this little isle of life, 
 
 This dark incarcerating colony, 
 
 Divides us. Happy day that breaks our chain ; 
 That manumits ; that calls from exile home ; 
 
 That leads to Nature’s great metropolis, 
 
 And readmits us, through the guardian hand 
 Of elder brothers, to our Father’s throne.— Young. 
 
 748. DEATH : the hour of Hope’s greatest 
 
 triumphs. 
 
 Unfading Hope ! when life’s last embers burn, 
 When soul to soul and dust to dust return, 
 
 Heaven to thy charge resigns the awful hour. 
 
 Oh, then thy kingdom comes ! Immortal power ! 
 What though each spark of earth-born rapture fly 
 The quivering lip, pale cheek, and closing eye ! 
 Bright to the soul thy seraph hands convey 
 The morning dream of life’s eternal day : 
 
 Then, then, the triumph and the trance begin, 
 
 And all the phoenix spirit burns within !— Campbell. 
 
 749. DEATH: the soul’s parting. 
 
 She sat within Life’s banquet-hall at noon, 
 
 When word was brought unto her secretly, 
 
 ‘ The Master cometh onward quickly ; soon 
 Across the threshold He will call for thee.’ 
 
DEATH 
 
 155 
 
 DEATH 
 
 Then she rose up to meet him at the door, 
 
 But turning, courteous, made a farewell brief 
 To those that sat around. From Care and Grief 
 She parted first. ‘ Companions sworn and true 
 Have ye been ever to me ; but for friends 
 I knew ye not till later, and did miss 
 Much solace through that error; let this kiss, 
 
 Late known and prized, be taken for amends : 
 
 Thou, too, kind, constant Patience, with thy slow 
 Sweet counsels aiding me ; I did not know 
 That ye were angels, until you display’d 
 Your wings for flight; now bless me! ’ But they said, 
 ‘ We blest thee long ago. ’ 
 
 Then turning unto twain 
 
 That stood together, tenderly and oft 
 
 She kiss’d them on their forehead, whispering soft, 
 
 ‘ Now must we part; yet leave me not before 
 Ye see me enter safe within the door ; 
 
 Kind bosom-comforters, that by my side 
 The darkest hour found ever closest bide, 
 
 A. dark hour waits me, ere for evermore, 
 
 N’ight, with its weariness, be overpast; 
 
 Stay with me till I cross the threshold o’er.’ 
 
 So Faith and Hope stay’d by her till the last; 
 
 But giving both her hands 
 To one that stood the nearest—‘ Thou and I 
 May pass together; for the holy bands 
 God knits on earth are never loosed on high. 
 
 Long have I walk’d with thee ; thy name arose 
 L’en in my sleep, and sweeter than the close 
 Of music was thy voice; for thou wert sent 
 To lead me homewards from my banishment 
 By devious ways, and never hath my heart 
 Swerved from thee, though our hands were wrung 
 apart 
 
 By spirits sworn to sever us ; above 
 Soon shall I look upon thee as thou art.’ 
 
 So she cross’d o’er with Love. 
 
 750. DEATH : the surrender of the soul to Christ. 
 He at Venice gave 
 
 His body to that pleasant country’s earth, 
 
 And his pure soul unto his captain Christ, 
 
 Under whose colours he had fought so long. 
 
 I Shakespeare. 
 
 75 DEATH : the universal conqueror. 
 
 Thus yields the cedar to the axe’s edge, 
 
 Whose arms gave shelter to the princely eagle, 
 
 Under whose shade the ramping lion slept ; 
 
 \Vhose top-branch overpeer’d Jove’s spreading tree, 
 And kept low shrubs from winter’s powerful wind. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 But yesterday the word of Caesar might 
 
 Have stood against the world : now lies he there, 
 
 And none so poor to do him reverence. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Death levels all things in his march, 
 
 Nought can resist his mighty strength ; 
 
 The palace proud,—triumphal arch, 
 
 Shall mete their shadow’s length ; 
 
 The rich, the poor, one common bed 
 Shall find in the unhonour’d grave, 
 
 Where weeds shall crown alike the head 
 Of tyrant and of slave.— Marvel. 
 
 Poets themselves must fall, like those they sung : 
 Deaf the praised ear, and mute the tuneful tongue. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 The prince, who kept the world in awe, 
 
 The judge, whose dictate fix’d the law, 
 
 The rich, the poor, the great, the small, 
 
 Are levell’d : death confounds them all. 
 
 Gay. 
 
 Where the prime actors of the last year’s scene ; 
 Their post so proud, their buskin, and their plume ? 
 How many sleep, who kept the world awake 
 With lustre and with noise !— Young. 
 
 All flesh is grass, and all its glory fades, 
 
 Like the fair flower dishevell’d in the wind ; 
 Riches have wings, and grandeur is a dream ; 
 The man we celebrate must find a tomb, 
 
 And we that worship him, ignoble graves. 
 
 Coivper. 
 
 Can this be death ? then what is life or death ? 
 
 ‘ Speak ! ’ but he spoke not : ‘ wake ! ’ but still he 
 slept : 
 
 But yesterday, and who had mightier breath ? 
 
 A thousand warriors by his word were kept 
 In awe : he said, as the centurion saith, 
 
 ‘ Go,’ and he goeth ; * come,’ and forth he stepp’d. 
 The trump and bugle till he spake were dumb, 
 
 And now nought left him but the muffled drum. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 752. DEATH : the universal conqueror. 
 
 The glories of our birth and state 
 Are shadows, not substantial things ; 
 
 There is no armour against fate : 
 
 Death lays his icy hands on kings ; 
 
 Sceptre and crown 
 Must tumble down, 
 
 And in the dust be equal made 
 
 With the poor crooked scythe and spade. 
 
 Some men with swords may reap the field, 
 
 And plant fresh laurels where they kill ; 
 
DEATH 
 
 DEATH 
 
 But their strong nerves at last must yield : 
 They tame but one another still; 
 
 Early or late 
 They stoop to fate, 
 
 And must give up their murmuring breath, 
 When they, pale captives, creep to death. 
 
 The garlands wither on your brow; 
 
 Then boast no more your mighty deeds ; 
 Upon death’s purple altar, now, 
 
 See where the victor victim bleeds ! 
 
 All heads must come 
 To the cold tomb ! 
 
 Only the actions of the just 
 
 Smell sweet, and blossom in the dust. — Shirley. 
 
 753 - DEATH : to the believer there is no death. 
 
 It is not death to die, 
 
 To leave this weary road, 
 
 And ’midst the brotherhood on high 
 To be at home with God. 
 
 It is not death to close 
 
 The eye long dimm’d by tears, 
 
 And wake in glorious repose, 
 
 To spend eternal years. 
 
 It is not death to bear 
 The wrench that sets us free 
 From dungeon chain, to breathe the air 
 Of boundless liberty. 
 
 It is not death to fling 
 Aside this sinful dust, 
 
 And rise, on strong, exulting wing, 
 
 To live among the just. 
 
 Jesus, Thou Prince of Life ! 
 
 Thy chosen cannot die ; 
 
 Like Thee, they conquer in the strife, 
 
 To reign with Thee on high. 
 
 A/a/an, tr. by Bethune. 
 
 No, no, it is not dying, 
 
 To go unto our God ; 
 
 The glowing earth forsaking, 
 
 Our journey homeward taking 
 Along the starry road. 
 
 No, no, it is not dying, 
 
 Heaven’s citizen to be ; 
 
 A crown immortal wearing, 
 
 And rest unbroken sharing, 
 
 From care and conflict free. 
 
 No, no, it is not dying, 
 
 To hear this gracious word, 
 
 ‘ Receive a Father’s blessing, 
 
 For evermore possessing 
 The favour of thy Lord.’ 
 
 156 
 
 I 
 
 No, no, it is not dying, 
 
 The Shepherd’s voice to know ; 
 
 His sheep He ever leadeth, 
 
 His peaceful dock He feedeth, 
 
 Where living pastures grow. 
 
 No, no, it is not dying, 
 
 To wear a lordly crown ; 
 
 Among God’s people dwelling, 
 
 The glorious triumph swelling 
 Of Him whose sway we own. 
 
 Oh, no, this is not dying, 
 
 Thou Saviour of mankind ! 
 
 There, streams of love are flowing, 
 
 No hindrance ever knowing ; 
 
 Here, drops alone we find. 
 
 Malan , tr. by R. P. Dunn , 
 
 754 - DEATH : to the believer there is no death. 
 
 The star is not extinguish’d when it sets 
 Upon the dull horizon ; it but goes 
 
 To shine in other skies, then reappear 
 In ours, as fresh as when it first arose. 
 
 The river is not lost, when, o’er the rock, 
 
 It pours its flood into the abyss below : 
 
 Its scatter’d force re-gathering from the shock, 
 
 It hastens onward with yet fuller flow. 
 
 The bright sun dies not, when the shading orb 
 Of the eclipsing moon obscures its ray ; 
 
 It still is shining on ; and soon to us 
 Will burst undimm’d into the joy of day. 
 
 The lily dies not, when both flower and leaf 
 
 Fade, and are strew’d upon the chill, sad ground ; 
 
 Gone down for shelter to its mother-earth, 
 
 Twill rise, re-bloom, and shed its fragrance round. 
 
 The dew-drop dies not, when it leaves the flower, 
 
 And passes upward on the beam of morn ; 
 
 It does but hide itself in light on high, 
 
 To its loved flower at twilight to return. 
 
 The fine gold has not perish’d, when the flame 
 Seizes upon it with consuming glow ; 
 
 In freshen’d splendour it comes forth anew, 
 
 I o sparkle on the monarch’s throne or brow. 
 
 Thus nothing dies, or only dies to live : 
 
 Star, stream, sun, flower, the dew-drop, and the 
 gold ; 
 
 Each goodly thing, instinct with buoyant hope, 
 
 Hastes to put on its purer, finer mould. 
 
 Thus in the quiet joy of kindly trust, 
 
 We bid each parting saint a brief farewell ; 
 
 Weeping, yet smiling, we commit their dust 
 To the safe keeping of the silent cell. 
 
DEATH 
 
 157 
 
 BE A TH 
 
 Softly within that peaceful resting-place 
 
 We lay their wearied limbs, and bid the clay 
 Press lightly on them till the night be past, 
 
 And the far east give note of coming day. 
 
 The day of re-appearing ! how it speeds ! 
 
 He who is true and faithful speaks the word. 
 
 Then shall we ever be with those we love— 
 
 Then shall we be for ever with the Lord. 
 
 The shout is heard ; the archangel’s voice goes forth ; 
 
 The trumpet sounds; the dead awake and sing ; 
 The living put on glory ; one glad band, 
 
 They hasten up to meet their coming King. 
 
 Short death and darkness ! Endless life and light! 
 
 Short dimming ; endless shining in yon sphere, 
 Where all is incorruptible and pure— 
 
 The joy without the pain, the smile without the 
 tear.— Bonar. 
 
 755. DEATH : to the believer there is no death. 
 
 There is no death ! The stars go down 
 To rise upon some fairer shore; 
 
 And bright in Heaven’s jewell’d crown 
 They shine for evermore. 
 
 There is no death ! The dust we tread 
 Shall change beneath the summer showers 
 To golden grain of mellow fruit, 
 
 Or rainbow-tinted flowers. 
 
 The granite rocks disorganize 
 
 To feed the hungry moss they bear ; 
 
 The forest leaves drink daily life 
 From out the viewless air. 
 
 There is no death ! The leaves may fall, 
 
 The flowers may fade and pass away; 
 
 They only wait through wintry hours 
 The coming of the May. 
 
 There is no death ! An angel form 
 Walks o’er the earth with silent tread; 
 
 He bears our best loved things away, 
 
 And then we call them ‘ dead.’ 
 
 He leaves our hearts all desolate, 
 
 He plucks our fairest, sweetest flowers ; 
 Transplanted into bliss, they now 
 Adorn immortal bowers. 
 
 The bird-like voice, whose joyous tones 
 Made glad these scenes of sin and strife, 
 
 Sings now an everlasting song 
 Amid the tree of life. 
 
 And where he sees a smile too bright, 
 
 Or heart too pure for taint and vice, 
 
 He bears it to that world of light, 
 
 To dwell in Paradise. 
 
 Born unto that undying life, 
 
 They leave us but to come again ; 
 
 With joy we welcome them—the same, 
 Except in sin and pain. 
 
 And ever near us, though unseen, 
 
 The dear immortal spirits tread ; 
 
 For all the boundless Universe 
 
 Is life—there are no dead.— Lytton. 
 
 756. DEATH. Triumph in 
 
 Therefore, now, a last good-night! 
 
 Sun, and moon, and stars of fire, 
 Farewell to your splendour bright ! 
 
 Higher now I soar, far higher. 
 
 Where there is such glorious day, 
 
 Ye will vanish quite away. 
 
 Weep not, that I bid farewell 
 To the world and all its errors ; 
 
 Far from vanity to dwell, 
 
 Far from darkness and its terrors ; 
 
 Weep not, that I take my flight 
 To the land of endless light ! 
 
 Weep not, my Redeemer lives, 
 
 High above dark earth ascending : 
 
 Hope, her heavenly comfort gives ; 
 
 Faith stands by, her shield extending ; 
 Love eternal whispers near, 
 
 ‘ Child of God, no longer fear ! ’ 
 
 Arndt, tr. by F. E. Cox . 
 
 757. DEATH. Triumph in 
 
 Ye golden lamps of heaven, farewell, 
 
 With all your feeble light; 
 
 Farewell, thou ever-changing moon, 
 
 Pale empress of the night. 
 
 And thou, refulgent orb of day, 
 
 In brightest flames array’d, 
 
 My soul, that springs beyond thy sphere, 
 No more demands thine aid. 
 
 Ye stars are but the shining dust 
 Of my divine abode, 
 
 The pavement of those heavemy courts, 
 Where I shall reign with God. 
 
 The Father of eternal light 
 
 Shall there His beams display ; 
 
 Nor shall one moment’s darkness mix 
 With that unvaried day. 
 
 No more the drops of piercing grief 
 Shall swell into mine eyes ; 
 
 Nor the meridian sun decline 
 Amid those brighter skies. 
 
DEATH 
 
 158 
 
 DEATH 
 
 There all the millions of His saints 
 Shall in one song unite, 
 
 And each the bliss of all shall view 
 With infinite delight.— Doddridge. 
 
 758- DEATH: unbribeable. 
 
 If hoarded gold possess’d the power 
 To lengthen life’s too fleeting hour, 
 
 And purchase from the hand of Death 
 A little span, a moment’s breath, 
 
 How I would love the precious ore ! 
 
 And every hour should swell my store ; 
 
 That when Death came, with shadowy pinion, 
 To waft me to his bleak dominion, 
 
 I might, by bribes, my doom delay, 
 
 And bid him call some distant day. 
 
 But since not all earth’s golden store 
 Can buy for us one bright hour more, 
 
 Why should we vainly mourn our fate, 
 
 Or sigh at life’s uncertain date? 
 
 Nor wealth nor'grandeur can illume 
 The silent midnight of the tomb. 
 
 A uaci-eon , tr. by Thomas Moore. 
 
 759. DEATH. Various experiences in 
 
 There is a stream, whose narrow tide 
 The known and unknown worlds divide, 
 Where all must go. 
 
 Its waveless waters, dark and deep, 
 
 ’Mid sullen silence downward sweep, 
 
 With noiseless flow. 
 
 I saw where at that dreary flood 
 A smiling infant prattling stood, 
 
 Whose hour had come ; 
 
 Untaught of ill, it near’d the tide, 
 
 Sank, as to cradle rest, and died, 
 
 Like going home. 
 
 Follow’d, with languid eye, anon, 
 
 A youth, diseased, and pale, and wan, 
 
 Whose time had come ; 
 
 He gazed upon that leaden stream ; 
 
 I saw him plunge, I heard a scream, 
 
 And he was gone. 
 
 And next a form, in manhood’s strength, 
 
 Came bustling on, till there at length 
 He saw life’s bound ; 
 
 To heaven he raised his bitter prayer, 
 
 Too late—his shriek of wild despair 
 The waters drown’d. 
 
 I saw when to that stream again 
 Another child of mortal man, 
 
 V\ ith smiles drew nigh ; 
 
 ’Tis the last pang, he calmly said; 
 
 To me, O Death, thou hast no dread ; 
 Saviour, I come. 
 
 Spread but Thine arms on yonder shore 
 I see ; ye waters, bear me o’er, 
 
 There is my home. 
 
 760. DEATH. Waiting fox 
 
 I am waiting by the river, 
 
 And my heart has waited long ; 
 
 Now I think I hear the chorus 
 Of the angels’ welcome song ; 
 
 Oh, I see the dawn is breaking 
 On the hill-tops of the blest, 
 
 ‘ Where the wicked cease from troubling, 
 
 And the weary are at rest.’ 
 
 Far away beyond the shadows 
 Of this weary vale of teal's, 
 
 There the tide of bliss is sweeping 
 Through the bright and changeless years ; 
 Oh ! I long to be with Jesus, 
 
 In the mansions of the blest, 
 
 ‘ Where the wicked cease from troubling, 
 
 And the weary ai'e at rest.’ 
 
 761. DEATH : why it is feared. 
 
 Death is a fearful thing, 
 
 And shamed life a hateful. 
 
 To die and go we know not where ; 
 
 To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot; 
 
 This sensible warm motion to become 
 A kneaded clod ; and the delighted spirit 
 To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside 
 In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice ; 
 
 To be imprison’d in the viewless winds, 
 
 And blown with restless violence round about 
 The pendant world, or to be worse than worst 
 Of those, that lawless and uncertain thoughts 
 Imagine howling !—’tis too horrible ! 
 
 The weariest and most loathed worldly life, 
 That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment 
 Can lay on Nature, is a paradise 
 To what we fear of death.— Shakespeare. 
 
 It must be done, my soul: but ’tis a strange, 
 
 A dismal and mysterious change, 
 
 V hen thou shalt leave this tenement of clay, 
 
 And to an unknown—somewhere—wing away ; 
 
 W hen time shall be eternity, and thou 
 Shalt be thou know’st not what—and live —thou 
 know’st not how ! 
 
 Amazing state ! no wonder that we dread 
 To think of death, or view the dead: 
 
DEATH OF CHRIST 
 
 J 59 
 
 DEA THS 
 
 d'hou’rt all wrapt up in clouds, as if to thee 
 Our very knowledge had antipathy. 
 
 Death could not a more sad retinue find: 
 
 Sickness and pain before, and darkness still behind. 
 
 A T orris. 
 
 Meiely to die no man of reason fears ; 
 
 For certainly we must, 
 
 As we are born, return to dust; 
 
 Tis the last point of many ling’ring years : 
 
 But whither then we go, 
 
 ^ hither we fain would know ; 
 
 But human understanding cannot show: 
 
 This makes us tremble.— Pomfret. 
 
 Sure, ’tis a serious thing to die, my soul! 
 
 What a strange moment must it be, when near 
 Thy journey’s end thou hast the gulf in view ! 
 
 That awful gulf no mortal e’er repass’d, 
 
 To tell what’s doing on the other side l 
 Nature runs back and shudders at the sight 
 And every life-string bleeds at thought of parting 
 
 Blair. 
 
 762. DEATH OF CHRIST. Sympathy with 
 the 
 
 Hail, thou Head ! so bruised and wounded, 
 With the crown of thorns surrounded ; 
 
 Smitten with the mocking reed, j 
 
 Wounds which may not cease to bleed 
 Trickling faint and slow. 
 
 Hail! from whose most blessed brow 
 None can wipe the blood-drops now ! 
 
 All the flower of life has fled, 
 
 Mortal paleness there instead: 
 
 Thou, before whose presence dread 
 Angels trembling bow. 
 
 All Thy vigour and Thy life 
 Fading in this bitter strife ; 
 
 Death his stamp on Thee has set, 
 
 Hollow and emaciate, 
 
 Faint and drooping there. 
 
 Thou this agony and scorn 
 Hast for me, a sinner, borne, 
 
 Me, unworthy, all for me ! 
 
 With those signs of love on Thee, 
 
 Glorious Face, appear. 
 
 ^ et, in this Thine agony, 
 
 Faithful Shepherd, think of me ; 
 
 From whose lips of love Divine 
 Sweetest draughts of life are mine, 
 
 Purest honey flows. 
 
 All unworthy of Thy thought, 
 
 Guilty, yet reject me not; 
 
 Unto me Thy head incline, 
 
 Let that dying head of Thine 
 In mine arms repose ! 
 
 Tet me true communion know 
 M ith Thee in Thy sacred woe, 
 
 Counting all beside but dross, 
 
 Dying with Thee on Thy cross: 
 
 ’Neath it will I die ! 
 
 Thanks to Thee with every breath, 
 
 Jesus, for 1 hy bitter death ; 
 
 Grant Thy guilty one this prayer, 
 
 M hen my dying hour is near, 
 
 Gracious God, be nigh ! 
 
 When my dying hour must be, 
 
 Be not absent then from me ; 
 
 In that dreadful hour, I pray, 
 
 Jesus, come without delay ; 
 
 See and set me free ! 
 
 When Thou biddest me depart, 
 
 W horn I cleave to with my heart, 
 
 Lover of my soul, be near ; 
 
 With Thy saving Cross appear, 
 
 Show Thyself to me ! 
 
 Bernard of Clairvaux , tr. by Mrs Charles. 
 
 763. DEATHS. Peaceful 
 
 He was exhaled; his great Creator drew 
 His spirit as the sun the morning dew. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 While resignation gently slopes the way, 
 
 And, all his prospects brightening to the last 
 His heaven commences ere the world be past. 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 Behold the bed of death, 
 d he pale and lovely clay. 
 
 Heard ye the sob of parting breath ? 
 
 Mark’d ye the eye’s last ray ? 
 
 B. o ; life so sweetly ceased to be, 
 
 It lapsed in immortality ! 
 
 764- DEATHS. Peaceful 
 
 We watch’d her breathing through the night, 
 Her breathing soft and low, 
 
 As in her breast the wave of life 
 Kept heaving to and fro. 
 
 So silently we seem’d to speak, 
 
 So slowly moved about, 
 
 As we had lent her half our powers 
 T o eke her living out. 
 
 Our very hopes belied our fears, 
 
 Our fears our hopes belied,— 
 
 We thought her dying when she slept, 
 
 And sleeping when she died. 
 
DEB ATE 
 
 160 
 
 DECEPTION 
 
 For when the morn came dim and sad, 
 And chill with early showers, 
 
 Her quiet eyelids closed—she had 
 Another morn than ours.— Hood. 
 
 Her suffering ended with the day; 
 
 Yet lived she at its close, 
 
 And breathed the long, long night away 
 In statue-like repose. 
 
 But when the sun, in all his state, 
 Illumed the eastern skies, 
 
 She pass’d through glory’s morning-gate, 
 And walk’d in Paradise !— Aldrich. 
 
 765. DEBATE: useless. 
 
 Ye powers who rule the tongue, if such there are, 
 And make colloquial happiness your care, 
 
 Preserve me from the thing I dread and hate, 
 
 A duel in the form of a debate. 
 
 The clash of arguments and jar of words, 
 
 Worse than the mortal blunt of rival swords, 
 Decide no question with their tedious length, 
 
 For opposition gives opinion strength. 
 
 Divert the champions prodigal of breath ; 
 
 And put the peaceably disposed to death. 
 
 O, thwart me not, Sir Soph, at every turn, 
 
 Nor carp at every flaw you may discern ! 
 
 Though syllogism hang not on my tongue, 
 
 I am not surely always in the wrong ; 
 
 ’Tis hard if all is false that I advance ; 
 
 A fool must now and then be right by chance. 
 Not that all freedom of dissent I blame ; 
 
 No,—there I grant the privilege I claim. 
 
 A disputable point is no man’s ground ; 
 
 Rove where you please, ’tis common all around. 
 Discourse may want an animated No 
 To brush the surface, and to make it flow : 
 
 But still remember, if you mean to please, 
 
 To press your point with modesty and ease. 
 
 The mark at which my juster aim I take, 
 
 Is contradiction for its own dear sake. 
 
 Set your opinion at whatever pitch, 
 
 Knots and impediments make something hitch; 
 Adopt his own, ’tis equally in vain, 
 
 Your thread of argument is snapp’d again. 
 
 The wrangler, rather than accord with you, 
 
 Will judge himself deceived, and prove it too. 
 Vociferated logic kills me quite, 
 
 A noisy man is always in the right. 
 
 I twirl my thumbs, fall back into my chair, 
 
 Fix on the wainscot a distressful stare, 
 
 And when I hope his blunders are all out, 
 
 Reply discreetly, To be sure—no doubt. 
 
 Ccnoper. 
 
 766. DECAY. Examples of 
 
 Cities have been, and vanish’d ; fanes have sunk, 
 Heap’d into shapeless ruin ; sands o’erspread 
 Fields that were Edens ; millions too have shrunk 
 To a few starving hundreds, or have fled 
 From off the page of being. Now the dead 
 Are the sole habitants of Babylon ; 
 
 Kings, at whose bidding nations toil’d and bled, 
 Heroes, who many a field of carnage won, 
 
 Their names—their boasted names to utter death 
 are done. 
 
 Such is the fate of empire: Asshur rose 
 
 Where elder thrones and prouder warriors stood ; 
 Before the Memphian priest his precepts chose, 
 
 Men reason’d greatly of the highest good ; 
 
 Before Troy was, or Xanthus roll’d in blood, 
 
 Armies were ranged in battle’s dread array ; 
 
 ! They fought—their glory wither’d in its bud ; 
 
 They perish’d—with them ceased their tyrant 
 sway ; 
 
 New wars, new heroes came—their story pass d 
 away. — Perciv al. 
 
 767. DECAY. General 
 
 The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces, 
 
 The solemn temples, the great globe itself, 
 
 Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve ; 
 
 And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, 
 
 Leave not a rack behind !— Shakespeare. 
 
 768. DECEIT. 
 
 What man so wise, what earthly wit so ware, 
 
 As to descry the crafty cunning train 
 By which deceit doth mask in visor fair 
 And cast her colours dyed deep in grain, 
 
 To seem like truth, whose shape she well can feign? 
 
 Spenser. 
 
 Thou’lt fall into deception unaware, 
 
 Not keeping strictest watch.— Milton. 
 
 An honest man may take a knave’s advice, 
 
 But idiots only may be cozen’d twice.— Dryden. 
 
 Oh what a tangled web we weave 
 When first we practise to deceive !— Scott. 
 
 769. DECEPTION : common. 
 
 I live among the cold, the false, 
 
 And I must seem like them ; 
 
 And much I am, for I am false 
 As these I most condemn ; 
 
 I teach my lip its sweetest smile, 
 
 My tongue its softest tone, 
 
 I borrow others’ likeness, till 
 
 I almost lose my own.— Chandler. 
 
DECEPTION 
 
 DEDICA TION 
 
 770. DECEPTION. Earthly 
 
 The branch is stooping to thy hand, 
 
 And pleasant to behold ; 
 
 Yet gather not, although its fruit 
 Be streak’d with hues of gold. 
 
 The cup is dancing to thy lip, 
 
 And fragrant is the wine ; 
 
 Yet dash the untasted goblet down, 
 
 Though lusciously it shine. 
 
 For bitter ashes lurk conceal’d 
 Beneath that golden skin, 
 
 And though the coat be smooth, there lies 
 But rottenness within. 
 
 The wings of pleasure fan the bowl, 
 
 And bid it overflow, 
 
 Yet drugg’d with poison are its lees, 
 
 And death is found below.— Smedley. 
 
 771. DECEPTION. The world’s 
 
 This world is all a fleeting show, 
 
 For man’s illusion given ; 
 
 The smiles of joy, the tears of woe, 
 
 Deceitful shine, deceitful flow— 
 
 There’s nothing true but Heaven ! 
 
 And false the light on Glory’s plume, 
 
 As fading hues of Even ; 
 
 And Love, and Hope, and Beauty’s bloom, 
 Are blossoms gather’d for the tomb— 
 
 There’s nothing bright but Heaven ! 
 
 Poor wanderers of a stormy day, 
 
 From wave to wave we’re driven, 
 
 And Fancy’s flash and Reason’s ray 
 Serve but to light the troubled way— 
 
 There’s nothing calm but Heaven !— Moore. 
 
 77 2 - DEDICATION : of the heart to Christ. 
 
 I give my heart to Thee, 
 
 O Jesus most desired ! 
 
 And heart for heart the gift shall be, 
 
 For Thou my soul hast fired: 
 
 Thou hearts alone would’st move; 
 
 Thou only hearts dost love. 
 
 I would love Thee as Thou lov’st me, 
 
 O Jesus most desired ! 
 
 What offering can I make, 
 
 Dear Lord, to love like Thine ? 
 
 That Thou, the God, didst stoop to take 
 A human form like mine ! 
 
 ‘ Give me thy heart, My son : ’ 
 
 Behold my heart,—’tis done ! 
 
 I would love Thee as Thou lov’st me, 
 
 O Jesus most desired ! 
 
 161 
 
 Thy heart is open’d wide, 
 
 Its offer’d love most free, 
 
 That heart to heart I may abide, 
 
 And hide myself in Thee ! 
 
 Ah, how Thy love doth burn, 
 
 Till I that love return ! 
 
 I would love Thee as Thou lov’st me, 
 
 O Jesus most desired ! 
 
 Here finds my heart its rest, 
 
 Repose that knows no shock, 
 
 The strength of love that keeps it blest : 
 
 In Thee, the riven Rock, 
 
 My soul, as girt around, 
 
 Her citadel hath found. 
 
 I would love Thee as Thou lov’st me, 
 
 O Jesus most desired ! 
 
 Tr. from the Latin by Ray Palmer. 
 
 773 - DEDICATION : of the heart to Christ. 
 
 Here behold me, as I cast me 
 At Thy throne, O glorious King ! 
 
 Tears fast thronging, childlike longing, 
 
 Son of man, to Thee I bring. 
 
 Let me find Thee ! let me find Thee ! 
 
 Me a poor and worthless thing. 
 
 Look upon me, Lord, I pray Thee, 
 
 Let Thy spirit dwell in mine; 
 
 Thou hast sought me, Thou hast bought me, 
 Only Thee to know I pine. 
 
 Let me find Thee ! let me find Thee ! 
 
 Take my heart and grant me Thine ! 
 
 Nought I ask for, nought I strive for, 
 
 But Thy grace so rich and free, 
 
 That Thou givest whom Thou lovest, 
 
 And who truly cleave to Thee. 
 
 Let me find Thee ! let me find Thee ! 
 
 He hath all things who hath Thee ! 
 
 Earthly treasure, mirth and pleasure, 
 
 Glorious name, or richest hoard, 
 
 Are but weary, void, and dreary, 
 
 To the heart that longs for God. 
 
 Let me find Thee! let me find Thee! 
 
 I am ready, mighty Lord. 
 
 774. DEDICATION : of the heart to Christ. 
 
 King of kings, and wilt Thou deign 
 O’er this wayward heart to reign ? 
 
 Henceforth take it for Thy throne, 
 
 Rule here, Lord, and rule alone. 
 
 Then, like heaven’s angelic bands, 
 
 Waiting for Thine high commands, 
 
 All my powers shall wait on Thee, 
 
 Captive, yet divinely free. 
 
DEEDS 
 
 162 
 
 DEFENCE 
 
 At Thy Word my will shall bow, 
 
 Judgment, reason, bending low ; 
 
 Hope, desire, and every thought, 
 
 Into glad obedience brought. 
 
 Zeal shall haste on eager wing, 
 
 Hourly some new gift to bring ; 
 
 Wisdom, humbly casting down 
 At Thy feet her golden crown. 
 
 Tuned by Thee in sweet accord, 
 
 All shall sing their gracious Lord ; 
 
 Love, the leader of the choir, 
 
 Breathing round her seraph fire. 
 
 Be it so : my heart’s Thy throne, 
 
 All my powers Thy sceptre own, 
 
 And, with them on Thine own hill, 
 
 Live rejoicing in Thy will.— Muhlenberg. 
 
 I cannot love Thee as I would, 
 
 Yet pardon me, O Highest Good! 
 
 My life, and all I call mine own, 
 
 I lay before Thy mercy-throne : 
 
 And if a thousand lives were mine, 
 
 O sweetest Lord ! they should be Thine. 
 
 And scanty would the offering be, 
 
 So richly hast thou loved me. 
 
 From the German. 
 
 775. DEEDS : better than words. 
 
 One day, when roses were in fullest flower, 
 
 A nightingale unto a falcon said : 
 
 ‘ Tell me, O silent bird ! where is thy power ? 
 
 One word to cheer the king in saddest hour 
 
 Thou dost not speak, yet thou art ever led 
 
 Like courtier forth, and royally art fed 
 
 From his own hand ; while I, who have such dower 
 
 Of song, sit lonely in my thorny bower 
 
 And feed on worms and scanty berries red. 
 
 Then said the falcon : 
 
 ‘ Nightingale, give ear 
 
 For once ! An empty boast fills all thy song. 
 
 My silence in the king’s esteem is dear 
 Because my wings are bold and swift and strong. 
 Content thee with thy fare. No better cheer 
 To idle, useless singers should belong.’ 
 
 Tr. from the Persian by Helen Hunt. 
 
 776. DEEDS : indelible. 
 
 The deeds of reasonable men, 
 
 As if engraven with pen of iron grain, 
 
 And laid in flinty rock, they stand unchanged, 
 Written on the various pages of the past : 
 
 If good, in rosy characters of love ; 
 
 If bad, in letters of vindictive fire. 
 
 God may forgive, but cannot blot them out. 
 Systems begin, and end ; eternity 
 Rolls on His endless years ; and men absolved - 
 By mercy from the consequence, forget 
 The evil deed ; and God imputes it not : 
 
 But neither systems ending nor begun, 
 
 Eternity that rolls his endless years, 
 
 Nor men absolved, and sanctified, and wash’d 
 By mercy from the consequence, nor yet 
 Forgetfulness, nor God imputing not, 
 
 Can wash the guilty deed once done, from out 
 The faithful annals of the past; who reads, 
 
 And many read, there finds it, as it was, 
 
 And is, and shall for ever be—a dark, 
 
 Unnatural, and loathly moral spot.— Pollok. 
 
 777. DEEDS. Virtuous 
 
 From lowest place when virtuous things proceed, 
 The place is dignified by th’ doei-’s deed. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 778. DEFEAT. 
 
 ’TlS 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 
 
 779. DEFENCE. God our 
 
 A SAFE stronghold our God is, still, 
 
 A trusty shield and weapon ; 
 
 He’ll help us clear from all the ill 
 That hath us now o’ertaken ; 
 
 The ancient Prince of Hell, 
 
 Hath risen with purpose fell, 
 
 .Strong mail of Craft and Power 
 He weareth in this hour, 
 
 On earth is not his fellow. 
 
 With force of arms we nothing can, 
 
 Full soon we were down-ridden ; 
 
 But for us fights the proper Man, 
 
 Whom God Himself hath bidden. 
 
 Ask ye what is His name ? 
 
 The Lord Zebaoth’s Son ; 
 
 He, and no other one, 
 
 Shall conquer in the battle. 
 
 And were this world all Devils o’er, 
 
 And watching to devour us, 
 
 We lay it not to heart so sore, 
 
 Not they can overpower us. 
 
DEGREES OF GLORY 
 
 163 
 
 DELAY 
 
 And let the Prince of Ill 
 Look grim as e’er he will, 
 
 He harms us not a whit; 
 
 For why? His doom is writ— 
 
 A word shall quickly slay him. 
 
 God’s word, for all their craft and force, 
 One moment will not linger, 
 
 But, spite of Hell, shall have its course, 
 ’Tis written by His finger. 
 
 And though they take our life, 
 
 Goods, honour, children, wife, 
 
 Yet is their profit small. 
 
 These things shall vanish, all; 
 
 The City of God remaineth. 
 
 Luther , tr. by Carlyle. 
 
 780. DEGREES OF GLORY. 
 
 There are distinctions that will live in heaven, 
 \\ hen time is a forgotten circumstance ! 
 
 The elevated brow of kings will lose 
 The impress of regalia, and the slave 
 Will wear his immortality as free 
 Beside the crystal waters ; but the depth 
 Of glory in the attributes of God, 
 
 Will measure the capacities of mind ; 
 
 And as the angels differ, will the ken 
 Of gifted spirits glorify Him more.— Willis. 
 
 781. DEITY. Inferring a 
 
 From Nature’s constant or eccentric laws, 
 
 The thoughtful soul this general inference draws \ 
 That an effect must presuppose a cause. 
 
 And, while she does her upward flight sustain, 
 Touching each link of the continued chain, 
 
 At length she is obliged and forced to see 
 A first, a source, a life, a Deity; 
 
 What has for ever been, and must for ever be. 
 
 Prior. 
 
 782. DELAY. Avoid 
 
 Shun delays, they breed remorse ; 
 
 Take thy time while time is lent thee: 
 Creeping snails have weakest force ; 
 
 Fly their fault lest thou repent thee. 
 Good is best when sooner wrought, 
 Ling’ring labours, come to nought. 
 
 Hoist up sail while gale doth last; 
 
 Tide and wind stay no man’s pleasure !, 
 Seek not time when time is past— 
 
 Sober speed is wisdom’s leisure : 
 After-wits are dearly bought; 
 
 Let thy fore-wit guide thy thought. 
 
 Time wears all his locks before, 
 
 Take thou hold upon his forehead : 
 
 When he flees, he turns no more, 
 
 And behind his scalp is naked. 
 
 Works adjourn’d have many stays ; 
 
 Long demurs breed new delays.— Southwell. 
 
 783. DELAY: fatal. 
 
 Late, late, so late ! and dark the night, and chill! 
 Late, late, so late ! but we can enter still. 
 
 ‘ Too late, too late ! ye cannot enter now.’ 
 
 No light had we ; for that we do repent; 
 
 And, learning this, the Bridegroom will relent. 
 ‘Too late, too late ! ye cannot enter now.’ 
 
 No light, so late ! and dark and chill the night! 
 
 Oh let us in, that we may find the light ! 
 
 ‘Too late, too late ! ye cannot enter now.’ 
 
 Have we not heard the Bridegroom is so sweet ? 
 
 Oh let us in, though late, to kiss His feet ? 
 
 ‘ No, no ; too late ! ye cannot enter now.’ 
 
 Tennyson. 
 
 784. DELAY. Folly of 
 
 Defer not till to-morrow to be wise: 
 
 1 o-morrow’s sun to thee may never rise. 
 
 Congreve. 
 
 Think not to-morrow still shall be your care ; 
 Alas ! to-morrow like to-day will fare. 
 
 Reflect that yesterday’s to-morrow’s o’er,— 
 Thus one ‘ to-morrow, ’ one ‘ to-morrow ’ more. 
 Have seen long years before them fade away, 
 And still appear no nearer than to-day. 
 
 Gifford. 
 
 Be wise to-day ; ’tis madness to defer ; 
 
 Next day the fatal precedent will plead; 
 
 Thus on, till wisdom is push’d out of life. 
 Procrastination is the thief of time ; 
 
 Year after year it steals, till all are fled, 
 
 And to the mercies of a moment leaves 
 The vast concerns of an eternal scene. 
 
 If not so frequent, would not this be strange ? 
 That ’tis so frequent, this is stranger still. 
 
 Young. 
 
 785. DELAY: frustrates many purposes. 
 
 Time, thou anticipat’st my dread exploits; 
 
 The flighty purpose never is o’ertook, 
 
 Unless the deed go with it.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Our greatest actions, or of good or evil, 
 
 The hero’s and the murderer’s, spring at once 
 From their conception : Oh ! how many deeds 
 Of deathless virtue and immortal crime 
 
DELAY 
 
 164 
 
 DE NO MINA TIONS 
 
 The world had wanted, had the actor said, 
 
 I will do this to-morrow. — Lord John Russell. 
 
 786. DELAY : is dangerous. 
 
 Omission to do what is necessary 
 Seals a commission to a blank of danger ; 
 
 And danger, like an ague, subtly taints 
 Even then when we sit idly in the sun. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 787. DELAY : its irksomeness. 
 
 How slow the time 
 
 To the warm soul, that in the very instant 
 It forms would execute a great design. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 788. DELAY : leads to beggary. 
 
 I have learn’d that fearful commenting 
 Is leaden servitor to dull delay ; 
 
 Delay leads impotent and snail-paced beggary. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 789. DELAY. Repenting of 
 
 Oh gather roses while they blow, 
 To-morrow’s not to-day; 
 
 Let not one moment vainly flow, 
 
 Time fleeth fast away. 
 
 He who defers a noble deed 
 Too oft repents delay ; 
 
 Live while thou canst, such is my creed, 
 
 Time fleeth fast away. — Gleim. 
 
 790. DELIGHTS. 
 
 These violent delights have violent ends. 
 
 And in their triumph die ; like fire and powder, 
 Which, as they meet, consume.— Shakespeare. 
 
 791. DELUSION. Common 
 
 How oft that virtue, which some women boast, 
 And pride themselves in, is but an empty name, 
 No real good: in thought alone possess’d. 
 
 Safe in the want of charms, the homely dame, 
 Secure from the seducing arts of men, 
 
 Deceives herself, and thinks she’s passing chaste ; 
 Wonders how others e’er could fall, yet when 
 She talks most loud about the noisy nothing, 
 Look on her face, and there you read her virtue. 
 
 Froude. 
 
 792. DELUSION. Vanity of 
 
 Oh, who can hold a fire in his hand, 
 
 By thinking on the frosty Caucasus ? 
 
 Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite, 
 
 By bare imagination of a feast ? 
 
 Or wallow naked in December snow, 
 
 By thinking on fantastic summer’s heat ? 
 
 Oh no ! the apprehension of the good 
 Gives but the greater feeling to the worse: 
 Fell sorrow’s tooth doth never rankle more, 
 Than when it bites, but lanceth not the sore. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 793. DEMAGOGUES. 
 
 I do despise these demagogues, that fret 
 The angry multitude: they are but as 
 The froth upon the mountain wave—the bird 
 That shrieks upon the sullen tempest’s wing. 
 
 Hunt. 
 
 794. DENOMINATIONS. Diverse 
 
 I STAND without here in the porch, 
 
 I hear the bell’s melodious din, 
 
 I hear the organ peal within, 
 
 I hear the prayer with words that scorch 
 Like sparks from an inverted torch : 
 
 I hear the sermon upon sin, 
 
 With threat’nings of the last account. 
 
 And all, translated in the air, 
 
 Reach me but as our dear Lord’s prayer, 
 And as the Sermon on the Mount. 
 
 Must it be Calvin, and not Christ ? 
 
 Must it be Athanasian creeds, 
 
 Or holy water, books, and beads ? 
 
 Must struggling souls remain content 
 With Councils and Decrees of Trent? 
 
 And can it be enough for these 
 The Christian Church the year embalms 
 With evergreens and boughs of palms, 
 And fills the air with litanies? 
 
 I know that yonder Pharisee 
 Thanks God that he is not like me ; 
 
 In my humiliation dress’d, 
 
 I only stand and beat my breast, 
 
 And pray for human charity. 
 
 Not to one Church alone, but seven, 
 
 The voice prophetic spake from heaven : 
 And unto each the promise came, 
 Diversified, but still the same ; 
 
 For him that overcometh are 
 
 The new names written on the stone, 
 
 The raiment white, the crown, the throne, 
 And I will give him the morning star ! 
 
 Ah ! to how many faith has been 
 No evidence of things unseen, 
 
 But a dim shadow that recasts 
 The creed of the phantasiasts, 
 
 For whom no Man of Sorrow died, 
 
 For whom the tragedy divine 
 
DEPARTED 
 
 DEPARTED 
 
 Was but a symbol and a sign, 
 
 And Christ a phantom crucified. 
 
 For others a diviner creed 
 Is living in the life they lead. 
 
 The passing of their beautiful feet 
 Blesses the pavement of the street, 
 
 And all their looks and words repeat 
 Old Fuller’s saying, wise and sweet, 
 
 Not as a vulture, but a dove, 
 
 The Holy Ghost came from above. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 795- DEPARTED. Blessedness of the 
 
 Hail, heavenly voice, once heard in Patmos, ‘Write, 
 Henceforth the dead who die in Christ are blest; 
 Yea, saith the Spirit, for they now shall rest 
 From all their labours!’ But no dull dark night 
 That rest o’ershadows : ’tis the day-spring bright 
 Of bliss ; the foretaste of a richer feast; 
 
 A sleep, if sleep it be, of lively zest, 
 
 Peopled with visions of intense delight. 
 
 And though the secrets of that resting-place 
 The soul embodied knows not \ yet she knows 
 No sin is there God’s likeness to deface, 
 
 To stint His love no purgatorial woes ; 
 
 Her dross is left behind, nor mixture base 
 Mars the pure stream of her serene repose.— Mant. 
 
 796 . DEPARTED. Dreams of the 
 
 Voice after voice hath died away, 
 
 Once in my dwelling heard ; 
 
 Sweet household name by name hath changed 
 To griefs forbidden word ! 
 
 From dreams of night on each I call, 
 
 Each of the far removed ; 
 
 And waken to my own wild cry, 
 
 Where are ye, my beloved ?— Hetnans. 
 
 797- DEPARTED. Mantles of the 
 
 F rom the eternal shadow rounding 
 All unseen and starlight there, 
 
 Voices of our lost ones sounding, 
 
 Bid us be of heart and cheer 
 ' hrough the silence, down the spaces, falling on the 
 inward ear. 
 
 Know we not our dead are looking 
 Downward, as in sad surprise, 
 
 All our strife of words rebuking 
 With their mild and earnest eyes ? 
 hall we grieve the holy angels ; shall we cloud their 
 blessed skies? 
 
 Let us draw their mantles o’er us, 
 
 Which have fallen in our way : 
 
 165 
 
 Let us do the work before us 
 Calmly, bravely, while we may, 
 
 Ere the long night-silence cometh, and with us it is 
 not day!— IVhittier. 
 
 798 . DEPARTED. Memorials of the 
 
 We gather up with pious care 
 
 What happy saints have left behind ; 
 
 Their writings in our memory bear, 
 
 Their sayings on our faithful mind. 
 
 Their works which traced them to the skies 
 For patterns to ourselves we take, 
 
 And dearly love, and highly prize, 
 
 The mantle for the wearer’s sake. 
 
 Charles IVesley. 
 
 799- DEPARTED. Memory of the 
 
 When musing on companions gone, 
 
 We doubly feel ourselves alone.— Scott. 
 
 When the hours of day are number’d, 
 
 And the voices of the night 
 Wake the bitter soul that slumber’d 
 To a holy, calm delight,— 
 
 Ere the evening lamps are lighted, 
 
 And, like phantoms grim and tall, 
 
 Shadows from the fitful firelight 
 Dance upon the parlour wall ; 
 
 Then the forms of the departed 
 Enter at the open door,— 
 
 The beloved ones, the true-hearted, 
 
 Come to visit me once more ; 
 
 He the young and strong, who cherish’d 
 Noble longings for the strife, 
 
 By the roadside fell and perish’d, 
 
 Weary with the march of life ! 
 
 They, the holy ones and weakly, 
 
 Who the cross of suffering bore, 
 
 Folded their pale hands so meekly, 
 
 Spake with us on earth no more! 
 
 And with them the being beauteous 
 Who unto my youth was given, 
 
 More than all things else to love me, 
 
 And is now a saint in heaven. 
 
 With a slow and noiseless footstep 
 Comes that messenger divine, 
 
 Takes the vacant chair beside me, 
 
 Lays her gentle hand in mine ; 
 
 And she sits and gazes at me 
 
 With those deep and tender eyes, 
 
 Like the stars, so still and saint-like, 
 
 Looking c^ownward from the skies. 
 
DEPARTED 
 
 DEPARTED 
 
 166 
 
 Utter’d not, yet comprehended, 
 
 Is the spirit’s voiceless prayer, 
 
 Soft rebukes, in blessings ended j 
 Breathing from her lips of air. 
 
 Oh, though oft depress’d and lonely, 
 
 All my fears are laid aside, 
 
 If I but remember only 
 
 Such as these have lived and died ! 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 800. DEPARTED. Rejoicing in the joy of the 
 
 Rejoice for a brother deceased ! 
 
 Our loss is his infinite gain ! 
 
 A soul out of prison released, 
 
 And freed from its bodily chain. 
 
 With songs let us follow his flight, 
 
 And mount with his spirit above, 
 
 Escaped to the mansions of light, 
 
 And lodged in the Eden of Love. 
 
 Our brother the haven hath gain’d, 
 
 Out-flying the tempest and wind ; 
 
 His rest he hath sooner obtain’d, 
 
 And left his companions behind, 
 
 Still toss’d on a sea of distress, 
 
 Hard toiling to make the blest shore, 
 Where all is assurance and peace, 
 
 And sorrow and sin are no more. 
 
 There all the ship’s company meet 
 Who sail’d with the Saviour beneath ; 
 With shouting each other they greet, 
 
 And triumph o’er trouble and death : 
 
 The voyage of life’s at an end, 
 
 The mortal affliction is past : 
 
 The age that in heaven they spend 
 For ever and ever shall last. 
 
 Charles Wesley. 
 
 801. DEPARTED. The: are not dead. 
 
 Those that he loved so long, and sees no more, 
 
 Loved and still loves,—not dead, but gone before. 
 
 Rogers. 
 
 802. DEPARTED. The : are not to be pitied. 
 
 Weep not for him that dieth, 
 
 For he hath ceased from tears. 
 
 And a voice to his replieth 
 
 Which he hath not heard for years. 
 
 Mrs Norton. 
 
 Weep not for those 
 Who sink within the arms of death, 
 
 Ere yet the chilling wintry breath 
 Of sorrow o’er them blows ; 
 
 But weep for them who here remain, 
 
 The mournful heritors of pain, 
 
 Condemn’d to see each bright joy fade, 
 
 And mark griefs melancholy shade 
 Flung o’er Hope’s fairest rose. 
 
 Mrs Embury. 
 
 803. DEPARTED. The: unite us to the un¬ 
 
 seen world. 
 
 The dead are like the stars by day, 
 Withdrawn from mortal eye, 
 
 Yet holding unperceived their way 
 Through the unclouded sky. 
 
 By them, through holy hope and love, 
 
 We feel, in hours serene, 
 
 Connected with a world above, 
 
 Immortal and unseen. 
 
 For Death his sacred seal hath set 
 On bright and by-gone hours ; 
 
 And they we mourn are with us yet,— 
 
 Are more than ever ours ;— 
 
 Ours by the pledge of love and faith ; 
 
 By hopes of heaven on high ; 
 
 By trust triumphant over death, 
 
 In immortality.— Barnard. 
 
 804. DEPARTED. The: where are they ? 
 
 He that hath found some fledged bird’s nest, may 
 know 
 
 At first sight if the bird be flown ; 
 
 But what fair dell or grove he sings in now, 
 
 That is to him unknown.— Vaughan. 
 
 Does the dark and soundless river 
 Stretch so wide— 
 
 The homeward rolling tide 
 Over which have cross’d 
 Our loved and early lost, 
 
 That their unsealed eyes may never see 
 The further side, 
 
 Where still amid this toil and misery 
 We hide ? 
 
 Is the realm of their transition 
 Close at hand 
 To this our living land? 
 
 Nearer than we dream ? 
 
 Can they catch the gleam 
 Of our smiles and hear the words we speak ? 
 And see our deeds ? 
 
 And, looking deeper than our eyes may see, 
 
 Our needs ? 
 
DEPARTED 
 
 DEPRAVITY 
 
 167 
 
 Do they mingle in our gladness ? 
 
 Do they grieve 
 
 When ways of goodness we leave ? 
 
 Do they know each thought and hope, 
 While we in shadow grope ? 
 
 Can they hear the Future’s high behest, 
 
 Yet lack the power 
 To lead us from our ills or arrest 
 The hour ? 
 
 When they find us bow’d with sorrow 
 Do they sigh ? 
 
 Or when earth passes by 
 For them do they forget 
 The cares that here beset 
 Their well beloved ? Or do they wait 
 (Oh, be it thus !) 
 
 And watch beside the golden gate 
 For us ? 
 
 We are yearning for their secret : 
 
 Though we call, 
 
 No answers ever fall 
 Upon our dullard ears, 
 
 To quell our nameless fears. 
 
 Yet God is over all, whate’er may be, 
 
 And trusting so, 
 
 Patience, my heart! a little while, and we 
 Shall know. 
 
 We wait, then, in patience; or 
 We pant, we strain, like birds against the wires. 
 With beating our bruised wings against the rim 
 That bounds our utmost flying, 
 
 When we seek the distant and the dim, 
 
 But—we wait.— Cooper. 
 
 805. DEPARTED. Voices of the 
 
 ORD, the lights are gleaming from the distant shore, 
 v here no billows threaten, where no tempests roar ; 
 ong-beloved voices calling me I hear,— 
 h, how sweet their summons falls upon my ear ! 
 ere are foes and strangers, faithless hearts and cold ; 
 here is fond affection, fondly proved of old ! 
 et me haste to join them ; may it not be so ? 
 
 Loose the cable, let me go ! 
 
 806. DEPARTED SOUL. Emblem of the 
 
 cloud lay cradled near the setting sun, 
 
 A gleam of crimson tinged its braided snow ; 
 ong had I watch’d the glory moving on 
 O’er the still radiance of the lake below : 
 ranquil its spirit seem’d, and floated slow, 
 
 E’en in its every motion there was rest, 
 
 ^hile every breath of eve that chanced to blow 
 V afted the traveller to the beauteous west. 
 
 Emblem, methought, of the departed soul, 
 
 To whose white robe the gleam of bliss is given, 
 And by the breath of mercy made to roll 
 Right onward to the golden gates of heaven, 
 While to the eye of faith it peaceful lies, 
 
 And tells to man his glorious destinies.— Wilson. 
 
 807. DEPENDENCE : on man. 
 
 I hate dependence on another’s will, 
 
 W hich changes with the breath of every whisper, 
 Just as the sky and weather with the winds : 
 
 Nay, with the winds, as they blow east or west, 
 
 To make his temper pleasant or unpleasant; 
 
 So are our wholesome or unwholesome days. 
 
 Crown. 
 
 808. DEPENDENCE. Spiritual 
 
 To keep the lamp alive, 
 
 With oil we fill the bowl; 
 
 ’Tis water makes the willow thrive, 
 
 And grace that feeds the soul. 
 
 The Lord’s unsparing hand 
 Supplies the living stream ; 
 
 It is not at our own command, 
 
 But still derived from Him. 
 
 Beware of Peter’s word, 
 
 Nor confidently say, 
 
 ‘ I never will deny Thee, Lord,’ 
 
 But, ‘ Grant I never may.’ 
 
 Man’s wisdom is to seek 
 His strength in God alone ; 
 
 And e’en an angel would be weak 
 Who trusted in his own. 
 
 Retreat beneath His wings, 
 
 And in His grace confide ; 
 
 This more exalts the King of kings 
 Than all your works beside.— Co7vper. 
 
 809. DEPRAVITY : confessed. 
 
 Physician of my sin-sick soul, 
 
 To Thee I bring my case ; 
 
 My raging malady control, 
 
 And heal me by Thy grace. 
 
 Pity the anguish I endure, 
 
 See how I mourn and pine ; 
 
 For never can I hope a cure 
 From any hand but Thine. 
 
 I would disclose my whole complaint, 
 
 But where shall I begin ? 
 
 No words of mine can fully paint 
 That worst distemper, sin. 
 
DEPRA VITY 
 
 DESERTION 
 
 168 
 
 It lies not in a single part, 
 
 But through my frame is spread ; 
 
 A burning fever in my heart, 
 
 A palsy in my head. 
 
 It makes me deaf, and dumb, and blind, 
 
 And impotent and lame; 
 
 It overclouds, and fills my mind 
 With folly, fear, and shame. 
 
 A thousand evil thoughts intrude 
 Tumultuous in my breast; 
 
 Which indispose me for my food, 
 
 And rob me of my rest. 
 
 Lord, I am sick, -regard my cry, 
 
 And set my spirit free : 
 
 Say, canst Thou let a sinner die, 
 
 Who longs to live to Thee ? 
 
 John Newton. 
 
 810. DEPRAVITY. Development of 
 
 Not at once, 
 
 In men or angels, the abhorrent plague 
 Appear’d in all its loathsomeness. But as 
 In some fair virgin’s bosom a small spot, 
 
 As if a thorn had prick’d the delicate skin, 
 
 Rises and spreads an ever-fretting sore, 
 
 Creeping from limb to limb, corrosive, foul, 
 
 Until the miserable leper lives 
 A dying life, and dies a living death : 
 
 So there. 
 
 Men with men 
 
 Wrought wickedness. Nor less the spirits malign, 
 The which when first they fell, as I have known, 
 Compassionated even the wreck they made, 
 
 Grew in malignity, till crime and craft 
 Became to them what virtue once had been, 
 
 Their joy, their nature, their essential life : 
 
 Lovers of darkness, foul, obscene, impure; 
 
 Some darker, fouler than the rest.— Bickersteth. 
 
 811. DEPRAVITY. Growth of 
 
 On every human soul there lies 
 A little dusky speck of sin, 
 
 As small as a mite’s eye in size : 
 
 But when that speck doth once begin 
 To work, it swift and swift extends, 
 
 Till the whole soul it comprehends, 
 
 And all its powers overclouds 
 With condemnation’s thunder-shrouds. 
 
 Then fierce and far the fear-fires flash, 
 
 And dire and dread the doom-bolts dash. 
 
 Thus doth the sin-speck spread, in sight, 
 
 O’er all the soul a baleful night,— 
 
 A blotting night of horror deep, 
 
 That knows no dawn and knows no sleep ! 
 
 Oriental , tr. by W. R. Alger. 
 
 812. DEPRAVITY. Taint of 
 
 In paths unknown we hear the feet 
 Of fear before, and guilt behind ; 
 
 We pluck the wayside fruit, and eat 
 Ashes and dust beneath its golden rind. 
 
 From age to age descends uncheck’d 
 The sad bequest of sire to son, 
 
 The body’s taint, the mind’s defect,— 
 Through every web of life the dark threads run. 
 
 Whittier. 
 
 813. DEPRAVITY. Unconsciousness of 
 
 The sick in body call for aid .... the sick 
 In mind are covetous of more disease ; 
 
 And when at worst, they dream themselves quit 
 well. 
 
 To know ourselves diseased is half our cure. 
 
 When nature’s blush by custom is wiped off, 
 
 And conscience, deaden’d by repeated strokes, 
 
 Has into manners naturalized our crimes ; 
 
 The curse of curses is, our curse to love— 
 
 To triumph iq the blackness of our guilt 
 (As Indians glory in the deepest jet), 
 
 And throw aside our senses with our peace.— Young 
 
 814. DE PROFUNDIS. 
 
 Up from the deeps, O God, I cry to Thee! 
 
 Hear the soul’s prayer, hear Thou her litany, 
 
 O Thou who sayest, ‘ Come, wanderer, home to me. 
 
 Up from the deeps of sorrow, wherein lie 
 Dark secrets veil’d from earth’s unpitying eye, 
 
 My prayers, like star-crown’d angels, Godward fly. 
 
 From the calm bosom when in quiet hour 
 God’s Holy Spirit reigns with largest power, 
 
 Then shall each thought in prayer’s white blossorr 
 flower. 
 
 Not from life’s shallows, where the waters sleep, 
 
 A dull, low marsh, where stagnant vapours creep, 
 But ocean-voiced, deep calling unto deep. 
 
 As he of old, King David, call’d to Thee, 
 
 As cries the heart of poor humanity, 
 
 ‘Clamavi, Domine, exaudi me !’— C. S. Fenner. 
 
 815. DESERTION. Thought of 
 
 Oh, say not thou art left of God, because His tokens 
 in the sky 
 
 Thou canst not read ; this earth He trod, to teach 
 thee He was ever nigh. 
 
DESIGN 
 
 169 
 
 DESIRE 
 
 He sees, beneath the fig-tree green, Nathaniel con 
 His sacred lore; 
 
 Should’st thou thy chamber seek, unseen He enters 
 through the unopen’d door. 
 
 And when thou liest, slumber-bound, out-wearied in 
 the Christian fight, 
 
 In glory girt with saints around, He stands above 
 thee through the night.— J. H. Newman. 
 
 816. DESIGN. 
 
 He that intends well, yet deprives himself 
 Of means to put his good thoughts into deed, 
 Deceives his purpose of the due reward. 
 
 Beaumont and Fletcher. 
 
 When men’s intents are wicked, their guilt haunts 
 them; 
 
 But when they’re just, they’re arm’d, and nothing 
 daunts them.— Middleton. 
 
 When any great design thou dost intend, 
 
 Think on the means, the manner, and the end. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 817. DESIRE. Benefits of 
 
 Vain are these dreams, and vain these hopes ; 
 
 And yet ’tis these give birth 
 To each high purpose, generous deed, 
 
 That sanctifies our earth. 
 
 He who hath highest aim in view, 
 
 Must dream at first what he will do. 
 
 Miss Landon. 
 
 I look into my heart. 
 
 And see how full it is of mighty schemes ; 
 
 Some that shall ripen, some be ever dreams, 
 
 And yet, though dreams, shall act a real part. 
 
 Faber. 
 
 818. DESIRE. Disappointments of 
 
 How large are our desires ! and yet how few 
 Events are answerable ! So the dew, 
 
 Which early on the top of mountains stood, 
 
 Meaning, at least, to imitate a flood ; 
 
 When once the sun appears, appears no more, 
 
 And leaves that parch’d which was too moist before. 
 
 Gomersall. 
 
 819. DESIRE. Fierce 
 
 O fierce desire, the spring of sighs and tears, 
 Relieved with want, impoverish’d with store, 
 
 Nurst with vain hopes, and fed with doubtful fears, 
 Whose force withstood, increaseth more and more. 
 
 Brandon. 
 
 820. DESIRE. Holy 
 
 Oh that mine eye might closed be 
 To what concerns me not to see ; 
 
 That deafness might possess mine ear 
 To what concerns me not to hear ; 
 
 That truth my tongue might always tie 
 From ever speaking foolishly ; 
 
 That no vain thought might ever rest, 
 
 Or be conceived, in my breast; 
 
 That by each word and deed and thought, 
 Glory may to my God be brought!— Ellwood. 
 
 821. DESIRE. Limit of 
 
 Whole houses, of their whole desires possest. 
 
 Are often ruin’d, at their own request. 
 
 In wars, and peace, things hurtful we require; 
 When made obnoxious to our own desire. 
 
 With laurels some have fatally been crown’d’; 
 
 Some in the depth of eloquence were drown’d. 
 
 . . . What then remains ? Are we deprived of will, 
 Must we not wish, for fear of wishing ill ? 
 
 Receive my counsel, and securely move ; 
 
 Intrust thy fortune to the Powers above. 
 
 Leave them to manage for thee, and to grant 
 What their unerring wisdom sees thee want: 
 
 In goodness as in greatness they excel; 
 
 Ah that we loved ourselves but half so well! 
 
 Juvenal , tr. by John Dryden. 
 
 822. DESIRE. Nature of 
 
 Desire himself runs out of breath, 
 
 And, getting, doth but gain his death ; 
 
 Desire nor reason hath, nor rest, 
 
 And, blind, doth seldom choose the best: 
 Desire attain’d is not desire, 
 
 But as the cinders of the fire. 
 
 As ships in ports desired are drown’d ; 
 
 As fruits once ripe then fall to ground ; 
 
 As flies that seek for flames are brought 
 To cinders by the flames they sought: 
 
 So fond desire when it attains, 
 
 The life expires, the woe remains.— Raleigh. 
 
 823. DESIRE: outruns Hope. 
 
 Desire’s the vast extent of human mind ; 
 
 It mounts above, and leaves poor Hope behind. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 824. DESIRE. Power of 
 
 The band of thy resolve is a fine hair ; 
 
 The wolf of thy desire would break a chain : 
 
 One day this ravening wolf that band will tear, 
 And then thy bitter cries will be in vain. 
 
 Oriental , tr. by IV. R. Alger. 
 
DESIRE 
 
 170 
 
 DESPAIR 
 
 825. DESIRE. Quality of 
 
 Think, and be careful what thou art within ; 
 
 For there is sin in the desire of sin: 
 
 Think, and be thankful, in a different case ; 
 
 For there is grace in the desire of grace.— Byron. 
 
 826. DESOLATION. Social 
 
 Unhappy he ! who from the first of joys, 
 
 Society, cut off, is left alone 
 
 Amid this world of death. Day after day, 
 
 Sad on the jutting eminence he sits, 
 
 And views the main that ever toils below ; 
 
 Still fondly forming in the farthest verge, 
 
 Where the round ether mixes with the wave, 
 Ships, dim discover’d, dropping from the clouds: 
 At evening, to the setting sun he turns 
 A mournful eye, and down his dying heart 
 Sinks helpless.— Thomson. 
 
 No one is so accursed by fate, 
 
 No one so utterly desolate, 
 
 But some heart, though unknown, 
 
 Responds unto his own.— Longfellow. 
 
 827. DESPAIR. Cry of 
 
 ’Tis time this heart should be unmoved 
 Since others it has ceased to move ; 
 
 Yet, though I cannot be beloved, 
 
 Still let me love. 
 
 My days are in the yellow leaf, 
 
 The flowers and fruit of love are gone, 
 
 The worm, the canker, and the grief, 
 
 Are mine alone. 
 
 The fire that in my bosom preys 
 Is like to some volcanic isle, 
 
 No torch is kindled at its blaze ; 
 
 A funeral pile. 
 
 The hope, the fears, the jealous care, 
 
 Th’ exalted portion of the pain 
 And power of love, I cannot share, 
 
 But wear the chain. 
 
 But ’tis not here—it is not here— 
 
 Such thoughts should shake my soul; nor now, 
 Where glory seals the hero’s bier, 
 
 Or binds his brow. 
 
 The sword, the banner, and the field, 
 
 Glory and Greece around us see; 
 
 The Spartan borne upon his shield 
 Was not more free. 
 
 Awake ! not Greece—she is awake ! 
 
 Awake, my spirit,—think through whom 
 My life-blood tastes its parent lake— 
 
 And then strike home ! 
 
 I tread reviving passions down, 
 
 Unworthy Manhood—unto thee 
 Indifferent should the smile or frown 
 Of beauty be. 
 
 If thou regret thy youth,—why live? 
 
 The land of honourable death 
 Is here—up to the field ; and give 
 Away thy breath ! 
 
 Seek out—less often sought than found— 
 
 A soldier’s grave, for thee the best. 
 
 Then look around, and choose thy ground, 
 
 And take thy rest.— Byron. 
 
 828. DESPAIR: drives to desperation. 
 
 I AM one, my liege, 
 
 Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world 
 Have so incensed, that I am reckless what 
 I do to spite the world.— Shakespeare. 
 
 So farewell hope, and with hope farewell fear, 
 Farewell remorse ; all good to me is lost; 
 
 Evil, be thou my good.— Milton. 
 
 Some whose meaning hath at first been fair 
 Grow knaves by use, and rebels by despair. 
 
 Roscommon. 
 
 Consider how the desperate fight;— 
 
 Despair strikes wild,—but often fatal too,— 
 
 And in the mad encounter wins success. 
 
 Havard. 
 
 Be it what it may, or bliss or torment, 
 Annihilation, dark, and endless rest, 
 
 Or some dread thing, man’s wildest range of thought 
 Hath never yet conceived, that change I’ll dare 
 Which makes me anything but what I am. 
 
 Joanna Baillie. 
 
 Loud sung the wind above ; and doubly loud 
 Shook o’er his turret cell the thunder-cloud ; 
 
 And flash’d the lightning by the latticed bar, 
 
 To him more genial than the midnight star: 
 
 Close to the glimmering grate he dragg’d his chain, 
 And hoped that peril might not prove in vain. 
 
 He raised his iron hand to heaven, and pray’d 
 One pitying flash to mar the form it made: 
 
 His steel and impious prayer attract alike— 
 
 The storm roll’d onward, and disdain’d to strike ; 
 
 Its peal wax’d fainter—ceased—he felt alone, 
 
 As if some faithless friend had spurn’d his groan. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 829. DESPAIR. Energy of 
 
 He hangs upon me like a dead man’s grasp 
 On the wreck’d swimmer’s neck. 
 
 Joanna Baillie. 
 
DESPAIR 
 
 830. DESPAIR. Hopeless 
 
 For now I stand as one upon a rock, 
 
 Environ’d with a wilderness of sea ; 
 
 Who marks the waxing tide grow wave by wave, 
 Expecting ever when some envious surge 
 Will in his brinish bowels swallow him. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Me miserable ! which way shall I fly 
 Infinite wrath, and infinite despair? 
 
 Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell; 
 
 And in the lowest deep a lower deep 
 Still threat’ning to devour me opens wide, 
 
 To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 Full many a storm on this grey head has beat; 
 And now, on my high station do 1 stand, 
 
 Like the tired watchman in his rocked tower, 
 
 Who looketh for the hour of his release. 
 
 I’m sick of worldly broils, and fain would rest 
 With those who war no more.— Joanna Baillie. 
 
 To be thus— 
 
 irey-hair’d with anguish, like these blasted pines, 
 Wrecks of a single winter, barkless, branchless, 
 
 \ blighted trunk upon a cursed root, 
 
 Which but supplies a feeling to decay— 
 
 \nd to be thus,—eternally but thus, 
 daving been otherwise ! now furrow’d o’er 
 With wrinkles plough’d by moments, not by years : 
 \nd hours—all tortured into ages—hours 
 Which I outlive ! ye toppling crags of ice ! 
 
 {e avalanches, whom a breath draws down 
 n mountainous o’erwhelming, come and crush me ! 
 
 ’ hear ye momently above, beneath, 
 
 Brash with a frequent conflict; but ye pass, 
 
 \.nd only fall on things that still would live. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 I have no dread, 
 
 \.nd feel the curse to have no natural fear, 
 
 dor fluttering throb, that beats with hopes or wishes, 
 
 > lurking love of something on the earth.— Byron. 
 
 tell you, hopeless grief is passionless:— 
 
 1'hat only men incredulous of despair, 
 dalf taught in anguish, through the midnight air, 
 Beat upward to God’s throne in loud access 
 Df shrieking and reproach.— E. B. Browning. 
 
 831. DESPAIR. Religious 
 
 Some deluded minds, 
 farrow’d by penal terrors, in the gulf 
 ")f black despair are whelm’d. No ray of hope 
 dispels the involving gloom ; a Deity, 
 
 A ith all the thunder of dread vengeance ’round him, 
 s ever present to their tortured thoughts.— IJayes. 
 
 7 1 DESPONDENCY 
 
 832. DESPAIR. Rescue from 
 
 There are dark hours of sadness, dark hours of 
 hopeless pain, 
 
 When thoughts akin to madness flash wildly through 
 the brain ; 
 
 When nameless anguish presses the heart beyond 
 control, 
 
 And deepest gloom possesses the faint and trembling 
 soul; 
 
 When every prop seems taken from life’s receding 
 shore, 
 
 And the mind, tempest-shaken, obeys the will no 
 more. 
 
 But who, from yonder heaven, pities each earthly 
 woe ? 
 
 Who yonder cross hath given for every grief below ? 
 
 Thine arms around it twining, to hope and prayer 
 give room, 
 
 For there a flame is shining to light thy path of 
 gloom. 
 
 An angel-form advances, and leads thee to that 
 strand 
 
 Whence thy delighted glances may see the promised 
 land .—From the German of Novalis, 
 
 833. DESPAIR. Resist 
 
 Beware of desperate steps: the darkest day, 
 Live till to-morrow, will have pass’d away. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 Despair not, Virtue, who in sorrow’s hour 
 Sigh’st to behold some idol overthrown, 
 
 And from the shade of thy domestic bower 
 
 Some green branch gone, some bird of promise 
 flown: 
 
 God chastens but to prove thy faithfulness, 
 
 And in thy weakness He will be thy stay; 
 
 Trust and deserve, and He will soothe and bless ; 
 The darkest hour is on the verge of day. 
 
 Despair not, man, however low thy state, 
 
 Nor scorn small blessings that around thee fall ; 
 
 Learn to disdain the impious creed of fate, 
 
 And own the Providence that governs all. 
 
 If thou art baffled in thy earnest will, 
 
 Thy conscience clear, thy reason not astray, 
 
 Be this thy faith and consolation still,— 
 
 The darkest hour is on the verge of day. 
 
 P. Prince. 
 
 834. DESPONDENCY. Avoid 
 
 Trip lightly over trouble, 
 
 Trip lightly over wrong ; 
 
 We only make grief double 
 By dwelling on it long. 
 
 
DESPONDENCY 172 DESPONDENCY 
 
 Why clasp woe’s hand so tightly ? 
 
 Why sigh o’er blossoms dead? 
 
 Why cling to forms unsightly ? 
 
 Why not seek joy, instead? 
 
 Trip lightly over sorrow ; 
 
 Though all the day be dark, 
 
 The sun may shine to-morrow, 
 
 And gayly sing the lark ; 
 
 Fair hopes have not departed, 
 
 Though roses may have fled ; 
 
 Then never be down-hearted, 
 
 But look for joy instead. 
 
 Trip lightly over sadness, 
 
 Stand not to rail at doom'; 
 
 We’ve pearls to string, of gladness, 
 
 On this side of the tomb : 
 
 While stars are nightly shining, 
 
 And the heaven is overhead, 
 
 Encourage not repining, 
 
 But look for joy instead. 
 
 835. DESPONDENCY. Cure for 
 
 V ; 4 .. Ni / /' 
 
 The recollection of one upward hour 
 Hath more in it to tranquillize and cheer 
 The darkness of despondency, than years 
 Of gaiety and pleasure.— Percival. 
 
 There’s not a star the heaven can show, 
 
 There’s not a cottage hearth below, 
 
 But feeds with solace kind the willing soul : 
 
 Men love us, or they need our love ; 
 
 Freely they own, or heedless prove 
 The curse of lawless hearts, the joy of self-control. 
 
 Then rouse thee from desponding sleep, 
 
 Nor by the wayside lingering weep, 
 
 Nor fear to seek Him farther in the wild, 
 
 Whose love can turn earth’s worst and least 
 Into a conqueror’s royal feast; 
 
 Thou wilt not be untrue, thou shalt not be beguiled. 
 
 Keble. 
 
 836. DESPONDENCY. Discard 
 
 Never go gloomily, man with a mind ; 
 
 Hope is a better companion than fear ; 
 Providence, ever benignant and kind, 
 
 Gives with a smile what you take with a tear. 
 All will be right, 
 
 Look to the light: 
 
 Morning was ever the daughter of night, 
 
 All that was black will be all that is bright. 
 
 Many a foe is a friend in disguise, 
 
 Many a trouble a blessing most true, 
 
 Helping the heart to be happy and wise, 
 
 With love ever precious, and joys ever new. 
 Stand in the van, 
 
 Strive like a man ; 
 
 This is the bravest and cleverest plan ; 
 Trusting in God while you do what you can. 
 
 Tupper. \ 
 
 837. DESPONDENCY. Light in 
 
 When the sky is black and lowering, when thy pat 
 in life is drear, 
 
 Upward lift thy steadfast glances, ’mid the maze < 
 sorrow here. 
 
 From the beaming Fount of gladness shall descen 
 a radiance bright ; 
 
 And the grave shall be a garden, and the hours c 
 darkness light. 
 
 For the Lord will hear and answer when in fait 
 His people pray ; 
 
 Whatsoe’er He hath appointed shall but work the 
 good alway. 
 
 E’en thy very hairs are number’d, God command 
 when one shall fall; 
 
 And the Lord is with His people, helping each ant 
 blessing all.— Luther. 
 
 838. DESPONDENCY. Philosophy of 
 
 But as it sometimes chanceth, from the might 
 Of joy in minds that can no farther go, 
 
 As high as we have mounted in delight 
 In our dejection do we sink as low ; 
 
 To me that morning did it happen so ; 
 
 And fears and fancies thick upon me came ; 
 
 Dim sadness, and blind thoughts, I knew not, noi 
 could name. 
 
 I thought of Chatterton, the marvellous boy, 
 
 The sleepless soul that perish’d in his pride ; 
 
 Of him who walk’d in glory and in joy, 
 
 h ollowing his plough, along the mountain-side : 
 By our own spirits we are deified : 
 
 We poets in our youth begin in gladness ; 
 
 But thereof come in the end despondency and mad¬ 
 ness.— Wordsworth. 
 
 839. DESPONDENCY. Prayer in 
 
 Bear Thou my burden, Thou who bear’st my sin, 
 Both are too heavy, Lord, for me to bear; 
 
 Oh, take them, call them Thine ; yes, Thine, though 
 mine ; 
 
 And give me calm repose in hours of fear and care. 
 
 Let me not fret because of evil men ; 
 
 Smooth Thou each angry ripple of my soul. 
 
 Reviled, oh, let me not revile again, 
 
 And ever let Thy hand my rising warmth control. 
 
DESPONDENCY 
 
 DESPONDENT 
 
 173 
 
 Let not my peace be broken when the wrong 
 Conquers the right; but let me still wait on ; 
 
 The day of right is coming, late, but long,— 
 
 Long right beneath the sway of the all-righteous 
 One. 
 
 When truth is overborne and error reigns, 
 
 When clamour lords it over patient love, 
 
 Give the brave calmness which from wrath refrains, 
 Yet from the steadfast course declines one foot to 
 move. 
 
 When love no refuge finds but silent faith, 
 
 When meekness fain would hide its heavy head, 
 
 When trustful truth, shunning the words of wrath, 
 Waits for the day of right, so long, so long de¬ 
 lay’d ; 
 
 Beneath the load of crosses and of cares ; 
 
 Of thwarted plans, of rude and spiteful words ; 
 
 Gh, bear me up, when this weak flesh despairs. 
 
 And the one arm which faith can lean on is the 
 Lord’s.— Bonar. 
 
 840. DESPONDENCY. Triumph over 
 
 And may I still get there? 
 
 Still reach that heavenly shore ? 
 
 That land for ever fair, 
 
 Where sorrow reigns no more ? 
 
 Shall I, unworthy I, 
 
 To fear and doubting given, 
 
 Mount up at last and fly 
 On angel’s wings to heaven. 
 
 My soul has been a prey 
 To guilt and dark despair ; 
 
 Can God, I used to say, 
 
 Hear such a sinner’s prayer ? 
 
 Or must I groan and weep, 
 
 Unheard by Him on high, 
 
 And sink to torments deep, 
 
 For ever there to die ? 
 
 How often have I fear’d 
 
 I ne’er should see bright heaven, 
 
 But when the Lord appear’d 
 
 Should from His face be driven ; 
 
 Should from the holy part, 
 
 Should bid my friends farewell, 
 
 And seek, with quivering heart, 
 
 My fitting home in hell. 
 
 Hail, love Divine and pure, 
 
 Hail, mercy from the skies ! 
 
 My hopes are now secure, 
 
 Upborne by faith I rise : 
 
 I part with earth and sin, 
 
 And shout the dangers past; 
 
 My Saviour takes me in, 
 
 And I am His at last.— Hunter. 
 
 841. DESPONDENT. Comfort for the 
 
 How weary and how worthless this life at times 
 appears ! 
 
 What days of heavy musings, what hours of bitter 
 tears! 
 
 How dark the storm-clouds gather across the wintry 
 skies ! 
 
 How desolate and cheerless the path before us lies! 
 
 And yet these days of dreariness are sent us from 
 above, 
 
 They do not come in anger, but in faithfulness and 
 love ;— 
 
 They come to teach us lessons which bright ones 
 could not yield ; 
 
 And to leave us blest and thankful when their pur¬ 
 pose is fulfill’d. 
 
 They come to draw us nearer our Father and our 
 God, 
 
 More earnestly to seek His face, and listen to His 
 word, 
 
 And to feel, if now around us a desert land we see, 
 
 Without the star of promise, what would its darkness 
 be ? 
 
 They come to lay us lowly and humbled in the dust, 
 
 All self-deception swept away, all creature-hope and 
 trust, 
 
 Our helplessness, our vileness, our guilt to make us 
 own, 
 
 And flee for hope and refuge to Jesus Christ alone. 
 
 They come to break the fetters, which here detain 
 us fast, 
 
 And force our long-reluctant hearts to rise to heaven 
 at last, 
 
 And brighten ev’ry prospect of that eternal home, 
 
 Where grief, and disappointment, and fear can never 
 come. 
 
 Then turn not in despondence, poor weary heart, 
 away, 
 
 But meekly journey onwards, through the dark and 
 cloudy day; 
 
 E’en now the bow of promise is above thee shining 
 bright, 
 
 And soon a joyful morning shall dissipate the night. 
 
 Thy God hath not forgot thee, and when He sees it 
 best, 
 
 Will lead thee into sunshine, will give thee hours of 
 rest; 
 
DESPONDENT 
 
 174 
 
 DESTRUCTION 
 
 And all thy pain and sorrow, when the pilgrimage is 
 o’er, 
 
 Shall end in heavenly blessedness, and joys for ever¬ 
 more. 
 
 842. DESPONDENT. Comfort for the 
 
 The day so crowded with its hours 
 Of golden possibility 
 Went down behind the sapphire sea ; 
 
 And that sharp sense of squander’d powers, 
 Before whose waste the conscience cowers, 
 
 Was all those hours had left to me. 
 
 Remorsefully I bow’d my head 
 
 And cried: * Dear Christ! Thy heart doth 
 know 
 
 I would not have the record so 
 Written above the day that’s dead— 
 
 Its doing and undoing, done. Instead, 
 
 I’ve nursed for thee a zeal whose glow 
 
 * Has fann’d all day my soul to flame ; 
 
 I felt the effluent rush to write 
 Words that Thy Spirit should indite ; 
 
 And when I named Thy holy Name 
 The cloven inspiration came, 
 
 As with a pentecostal might. 
 
 ‘ I had no other thought to sing 
 Than for Thy glory ; since it grew 
 The grandest thing a soul can do 
 To strain its strength and sweep its wing, 
 
 That so the grace of song might bring 
 Some captured soul to praise Thee too. 
 
 ‘ That rapture past, I plann’d a deed 
 Of costly effort for Thy sake, 
 
 In which I charged that self should take 
 No slightest share, nor flesh have heed, 
 
 Nor shrinking will have let to plead, 
 
 Nor heart betray an inward ache. 
 
 ‘ And now the day within whose life 
 I set my doing is dead and done, 
 
 And all my ends are miss’d. Not one 
 Of those with stirrings of whose strife 
 My inner truest, best was rife 
 
 And restless hath been e’en begun.’ 
 
 As thus I moan’d my self-complaint, 
 
 Across the midnight seem’d to loom 
 A vision, and athwart the gloom 
 A whisper fell, so sweet and faint, 
 
 That I look’d up with strange constraint, 
 
 And lo ! a brightness swam the room. 
 
 I sank o’erawed ; and as I lay 
 
 With downward face I heard a voice 
 Float clear above. It said : ‘ Rejoice! 
 
 Thy dead day wept for lives—a day 
 Breathing with action, though it may 
 Have fail’d to grant thy heart its choice. 
 
 i 
 
 ‘ Thy work undone I take as though 
 Fill’d to completion, and the strain 
 That throbs unsung within thy brain 
 I hear in all its underflow, 
 
 And know, as thou canst never know, 
 
 The mystic music born of pain. 
 
 ‘ ’Twas I who bade the hindrance stir 
 Thy soul from singing ; I who laid 
 My hand upon thy hands and stay’d 
 Their chosen purpose ; while to her 
 Who suffer’d, as a minister, 
 
 I sent thee with that loving aid. 
 
 ‘ And inasmuch as thou hast brought 
 The cup of water, deem’d so small; 
 
 And inasmuch as at my call 
 Thou didst the work thou hadst not sought, 
 
 As doubled deeds, wrought and unwrought, 
 
 I, needing none, accept them all.’ 
 
 Margaret J. Preston. 
 
 843. DESTINY. Hand of 
 
 The king was on his throne, the satraps throng’d 
 the hall: 
 
 A thousand bright lamps shone o’er that high festival. 
 A thousand cups of gold, in Judah deem’d divine ; 
 Jehovah’s vessels hold the godless heathen’s wine ! 
 
 In that same hour and hall, the fingers of a hand 
 Came forth against the wall, and wrote as if on sand ; 
 
 I he fingers of a man, a solitary hand, 
 
 Along the letters ran and traced them like a wand. 
 
 I he monarch saw and shook, and bade no more re¬ 
 joice ; 
 
 All bloodless wax’d his look, and tremulous his voice : 
 
 ‘ Let the men of lore appear, the wisest of the earth, 
 And expound the words of fear which mar our royal 
 mirth. ’— Byron. 
 
 \ 
 
 844. DESTINY. Human 
 
 Whate’er man’s destiny may be, 
 
 His mind is changed accordingly : 
 
 With it his heart in union blends, 
 
 And thus come God’s appointed ends. 
 
 Oriental , tr. by W. R. Alger. 
 
 845. DESTRUCTION. Dream of 
 
 I had a dream. A narrow bridge-way led 
 Across a mighty gulf, in whose deep bosom, 
 
 Down, down a frightful depth, on pointed rocks, 
 
 The mangled carcasses of men were strew’d 
 
DETERMINA TION 
 
 175 
 
 DEVOTION 
 
 In one promiscuous ruin. Death sat there 
 On his dark throne, 'mid one vast sea of blood ! 
 
 I look’d—and lo ! millions of moving men 
 ; Press’d madly on the space which none could tread 
 In safety without care—thousands and thousands fell 
 Each moment in th’ abyss through heedlessness, 
 
 To rise no more for ever ! Still there came 
 Thousands and thousands more—and mark’d the fall 
 Of friends and dear companions, and e’en wept, 
 
 But took no better heed, and fell themselves 
 In the same ruin. Some who came were blind, 
 
 And some were maim’d, and faint, and tottering ; 
 And some seem’d urged by very madness on ; 
 
 And yet ’twas said that all were rational 
 Children of earth—and journeying to the clime 
 Of cloudless skies and peaceful scenes, beyond 
 That gulf, o’er which there was but this one passage. 
 
 I look’d again—and saw that there were those 
 Amid the crowd who pointed out the danger, 
 
 And warn’d and warn’d their fellows to beware, 
 Offer’d to lead the blind, assist the maim’d, 
 
 And strove to win e’en madness back to reason. 
 
 But these were hiss’d at, shunn’d, despised as men 
 Of little wisdom, or ignoble souls ; 
 
 Yet these went cautious on, and all escaped 
 The certain fate of their despisers. 
 
 I woke—it was a dream. But I have thought, 
 
 Oft thought, how like this scene is that we see 
 Daily around, in this our pilgrimage— 
 
 How the world runs to ruin, all are bound 
 O’er the strait way that leads to happy climes 
 Beyond the shores of time. Yet who can count 
 The countless millions of immortal souls 
 Which perish—fall, for ever, in the abyss 
 Df endless death, even through very folly, 
 
 In wending o’er the narrow bridge of life ! 
 
 846. DETERMINATION. Firm 
 
 [Let come what will, I mean to bear it out, 
 
 \nd either live with glorious victory 
 I Dr die with fame, renown’d in chivalry. 
 
 Ie is not worthy of the honeycomb 
 fhat shuns the hive because the bees have stings. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 847. DETERMINATION. Penitential 
 
 I’ll go to Jesus, though my sin 
 Like mountains round me close ; 
 
 I know PI is courts, I’ll enter in, 
 
 Whatever may oppose. 
 
 Prostrate I’ll lie before His throne, 
 
 And there my guilt confess ; 
 
 I’ll tell Him I’m a wretch undone 
 Without His sov’reign grace. 
 
 Perhaps He will admit my plea, 
 
 Perhaps will hear my prayer ; 
 
 But if I perish, I will pray, 
 
 And perish only there. 
 
 I can but perish if I go— 
 
 I am resolved to try ; 
 
 For if I stay away, I know 
 
 I must for ever die. — Wm. Jones. 
 
 848. DETRACTION. Monster of 
 
 Detraction’s a bold monster, and fears not 
 To wound the fame of princes, if it find 
 But any blemish in their lives to work on. 
 
 Massinger. 
 
 849. DEVOTION. Absence of 
 
 The spring-tide hour 
 Brings leaf and flower 
 With songs of life and love ; 
 
 And many a lay 
 Wears out the day 
 In many a leafy grove. 
 
 Bird, flower, and tree 
 Seem to agree 
 
 Their choicest gifts to bring; 
 
 But this poor heart 
 Bears not its part, 
 
 In it there is no spring. 
 
 Dews fall apace, 
 
 The dews of grace, 
 
 Upon this soul of sin ; 
 
 And love Divine 
 Delight to shine 
 Upon the waste within : 
 
 Yet, year by year, 
 
 Fruits, flowers, appear, 
 
 And birds their praises sing ; 
 
 But this poor heart 
 Bears not its part, 
 
 Its winter has no spring. 
 
 Lord, let Thy love, 
 
 Fresh from above, 
 
 Soft as the south wind blow ; 
 
 Call forth its bloom, 
 
 Wake its perfume, 
 
 And bid its spices flow ! 
 
 And when Thy voice 
 Makes earth rejoice, 
 
 And the hills laugh and sing, 
 
 Lord ! make this heart 
 To bear its part, 
 
 And join the praise of spring !— Monsell. 
 
 
DEVOTION 
 
 176 
 
 DEVOTION 
 
 850. DEVOTION. Ardent 
 
 Ye quietists in homage to the skies ! 
 
 Serene ! of soft address ! who mildly make 
 An unobtrusive tender of your hearts, 
 
 Abhorring violence ! who halt, indeed, 
 
 But for the blessing wrestle not with Heaven ! 
 
 Think you my song too turbulent, too warm ? 
 
 Are passions, then, the Pagans of the soul ? 
 
 Reason alone baptized ? alone ordain’d 
 To touch things sacred ? Oh for warmer still! 
 
 Guilt chills my zeal, and age benumbs my powers : 
 Oh for an humbler heart and prouder song ! 
 
 Thou, my much-injured theme l with that soft eye 
 Which melted o’er doom’d Salem, deign to look 
 Compassion to the coldness of my breast, 
 
 And pardon to the winter in my strain. 
 
 O ye cold-hearted, frozen formalists! 
 
 On such a theme ’tis impious to be calm ; 
 
 Passion is reason, transport temper here. 
 
 Shall Heaven, which gave us ardour, and has shown 
 Her own for man so strongly, not disdain 
 The smooth emollients in theology 
 Recumbent virtue’s downy doctors preach, 
 
 That prose of piety, a lukewarm praise? 
 
 Rise odours sweet from incense uninflamed ? 
 Devotion, when lukewarm, is undevout ; 
 
 But when it glows, its heat is struck to heaven : 
 
 To human hearts her golden harps are strung ; 
 
 High Heaven’s orchestra chants Amen to man. 
 
 Young. 
 
 851. DEVOTION : consecrates the sanctuary and 
 
 the worshipper. 
 
 View not this spire by measure given 
 To buildings raised by common hands : 
 
 That fabric rises high as heaven, 
 
 Whose basis on devotion stands.— Prior. 
 
 Heaven asks no surplice round the heart that feels, 
 And all is holy where devotion kneels. 
 
 O. IV. Holmes. 
 
 852. DEVOTION. Constant 
 
 If we with earnest efforts could succeed 
 
 To make our life one long connected prayer, 
 
 As lives of some perhaps have been and are, 
 
 If never leaving Thee, we had no need 
 Our wandering spirits back again to lead 
 Into Thy presence, but continued there, 
 
 Like angels standing on the highest stair 
 Of the sapphire throne, this were to pray indeed. 
 
 But if distractions manifold prevail, 
 
 And if in this we must confess we fail, 
 
 Grant us to keep at least a prompt desire. 
 
 Continual readiness for prayer or praise, 
 
 An altar heap’d and waiting to take fire 
 With the least spark, and leap into a blaze. 
 
 Trench. 
 
 853. DEVOTION : essential. 
 
 In vain doth man the name of just expect, 
 
 If his devotions he to God neglect.— Denham. 
 
 854. DEVOTION. Object of 
 
 Grateful to acknowledge whence his good 
 Descends, thither with heart, and voice, and eyes 
 Directed to devotion, to adore 
 And worship God supreme, who made him chief 
 Of all His works.— Milton. 
 
 855. DEVOTION. Ostentatious 
 
 The immortal gods 
 
 Accept the meanest altars that are raised 
 By pure devotion ; and sometimes prefer 
 An ounce of frankincense, honey, or milk, 
 Before whole hecatombs of Sabsean gems, 
 Offer’d in ostentation.— Massinger. 
 
 One grain of incense with devotion offer’d, 
 
 ’s beyond all perfumes or Sabsean spices, 
 
 By one that proudly thinks he merits it. 
 
 Massinger. 
 
 856. DEVOTION. Prayer of 
 
 Save me alike from foolish pride, 
 
 Or impious discontent, 
 
 At aught Thy wisdom has denied, 
 
 Or aught Thy goodness lent. 
 
 Teach me to feel another’s woe. 
 
 To hide the fault I see; 
 
 That mercy I to others show. 
 
 That mercy show to me. 
 
 Mean though I am, not wholly so, 
 
 Since quicken’d by Thy breath ; 
 
 Oh, lead me wheresoe’er I go. 
 
 Through this day’s life or death ! 
 
 This day be bread and peace my lot; 
 
 All else beneath the sun, 
 
 Thou know’st if best bestow’d or not, 
 
 And let Thy will be done. 
 
 To Thee, whose temple is all space, 
 
 Whose altar, earth, sea, skies ! 
 
 One chorus let all Being raise ! 
 
 All Nature’s incense rise!— Pope. 
 
 857. DEVOTION. Spiritual 
 
 • 
 
 The woman singeth at her spinning-wheel 
 A pleasant chant, ballad or barcarolle; 
 
DEVOTION 
 
 177 
 
 DISAPPOINTMENT 
 
 She thinketh of her song, upon the whole. 
 
 Far more than of the flax ; and yet the reel 
 [s full, and artfully her fingers feel, 
 
 With quick adjustment, provident control, 
 
 The lines, too subtly twisted to unroll, 
 
 Out to a perfect thread. I hence appeal 
 >To the dear Christian Church, that we may do 
 Our Father’s business in these temples mirk, 
 
 Thus swift and steadfast; thus intent and strong 
 While, thus, apart from toil, our souls pursue 
 Some high, calm, spheric tune, and prove our work 
 The better for the sweetness of our song. 
 
 E. B. Browning. 
 
 858. DEVOTION. Temple of 
 
 Man at home, within himself, may find 
 The Deity immense, and in that frame 
 So fearfully, so wonderfully made. 
 
 See and adore His providence and power. 
 
 [ see, and I adore ! O God most bounteous ! 
 
 3 Infinite of goodness and of glory ! 
 
 The knee that Thou hast shaped shall bend to Thee ; 
 The tongue which Thou hast tuned shall chant Thy 
 praise, 
 
 Mid Thine own image, the immortal soul, 
 
 Shall consecrate herself to Thee for ever.— Smart. 
 
 859. DIGNITY. Burden of 
 
 Sreat honours are great burdens ; but on whom 
 They’re cast with envy, he doth bear two loads ; 
 dis cares must still be double to his joys, 
 n any dignity ; where, if he err, 
 de finds no pardon ; and for doing well, 
 
 ^ most small praise, and that wrung out by force. 
 
 Jonson. 
 
 860. DIGNITY: independent of place. 
 
 True dignity is never gain’d by place, 
 
 And never lost when honours are withdrawn. 
 
 Massinger. 
 
 861. Dignity. Relief from 
 
 Wolsey. I know myself now, and I feel within me 
 peace above all earthly dignities, 
 
 . still and quiet conscience. The king has cured 
 me— 
 
 humbly thank his Grace ; and from these shoulders, 
 'hese ruin’d pillars, out of pity ta’en 
 l load would sink a navy, too much honour. 
 
 >h, ’tis a burden, Cromwell, ’tis a burden, 
 
 00 heavy for a man that hopes for heaven ! 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 862. DIGNITY: undeserved. 
 
 Let none presume 
 o wear an undeserved dignity. 
 
 Oh, that estates, degrees, and offices, 
 
 Were not derived corruptly ! and that dear honour 
 Were purchased by the merit of the wearer! 
 
 How many then should cover, that stand bare ? 
 
 How many be commanded that command ? 
 
 How much low peasantry would then be glean’d 
 From the true seed of honour ? and how much honour 
 Pick’d from the chaff and ruin of the times, 
 
 To be new varnish’d ?— Shakespeare. 
 
 863. DISAPPOINTMENT. Benefit of 
 
 Trouble, and loss, and grief, and pain, 
 
 Have crowded all my forty years ; 
 
 I never could my wish obtain, 
 
 And own at last, with joyful tears, 
 
 The man whom God delights to bless 
 He never curses with success. 
 
 How oft didst Thou my soul withhold, 
 
 And baffle my pursuit of fame, 
 
 And mortify my lust of gold, 
 
 And blast me in my surest aim, 
 
 Withdraw my animal delight, 
 
 And starve my grovelling appetite ! 
 
 Thy goodness, obstinate to save, 
 
 Hath all my airy schemes o’erthrown ; 
 
 My will Thou would’st not let me have ; 
 
 With blushing thankfulness I own 
 I envied oft the swine their meat, 
 
 But could not gain the husks to eat. 
 
 Thou would’st not let Thy captive go, 
 
 Or leave me to my carnal will; 
 
 Thy love forbade my rest below: 
 
 Thy patient love pursued me still, 
 
 And forced me from my sin to part, 
 
 And tore the idol from my heart. 
 
 Joy of mine eyes, and more beloved 
 
 (Forgive me, gracious God !) than Thee, 
 
 Thy sudden stroke far off removed, 
 
 And stopt my vile idolatry, 
 
 And drove me from the idol’s shrine, 
 
 And cast me at the feet Divine. 
 
 But can I now the loss lament, 
 
 Or murmur at Thy friendly blow ? 
 
 Thy friendly blow my spirit hath rent 
 From every seeming good below: 
 
 Thrice happy loss, which makes me see 
 My happiness is all in Thee ! 
 
 How shall I bless Thy thwarting love, 
 
 So near in my temptation’s hour? 
 
 It flew my ruin to remove, 
 
 It snatch’d me from my nature’s power, 
 
 12 
 
DISAPPOINTMENT 
 
 178 
 
 DISAPPOINTMENT 
 
 Broke off my grasp of creature good, 
 
 And plunged me in the atoning Blood. 
 
 See, then at last I all resign, 
 
 I yield me up Thy lawful prey ; 
 
 Take this poor long-sought soul of mine, 
 
 And bear me in Thine arms away. 
 
 Whence I may never more remove. 
 
 Secure in Thy eternal Love. — Charles Wesley . 
 
 864. DISAPPOINTMENT. Blight of 
 
 Disappointment rather seem’d 
 Negative of delight. It was a thing 
 Sluggish and torpid, tending toward death. 
 
 Its breath was cold, and made the sportive blood 
 Stagnant, and dull, and heavy round the wheels 
 Of life ; the roots of that whereon it blew 
 Decay’d, and with the genial soil no more 
 Held sympathy; the leaves, the branches droop’d, 
 And moulder’d slowly down to formless dust. 
 
 Pollck. 
 
 865. DISAPPOINTMENT. Compensation of 
 
 Nay, ’tis not that we fancied it, 
 
 This magic world of ours ; 
 
 We thought its skies were only blue, 
 
 Its fields all sun and flowers ; 
 
 Its streams all summer-bright and glad, 
 
 Its seas all smiles and calms. 
 
 Its path, from youth to age, one long 
 Green avenue of palms. 
 
 But clouds came up, with gloom and shade 
 Our sky was overcast. 
 
 The hot mist threw its blight around, 
 
 Sunshine and flowers went past. 
 
 Hopes perish’d that had hung like wreaths 
 Around youth’s buoyant brow. 
 
 And joys, like wither’d autumn leaves, 
 
 Dropp’d from the shaken bough. 
 
 Yet from these clouds comes forth the light,— 
 Light beaming from on high ; 
 
 And from these faded flowers spring up 
 The flowers that cannot die. 
 
 Far fairer is the land we seek, 
 
 A land without a tomb, 
 
 An everlasting resting-place, 
 
 A sure and quiet home.— Bonar. 
 
 866. DISAPPOINTMENT. Ode to 
 
 Come, Disappointment, come ! 
 
 Not in thy terrors clad ; 
 
 Come in thy meekest, saddest guise ; 
 
 Thy chastening rod but terrifies 
 The restless and the bad. 
 
 But I recline 
 Beneath thy shrine, 
 
 And round my brow resign’d thy peaceful cypres 
 twi ne. 
 
 Come, Disappointment, come ! 
 
 1 hough from Hope’s summit hurl’d. 
 
 Still, rigid nurse, thou art forgiven, 
 
 For thou severe wert sent from heaven 
 To wean me from the world; 
 
 To turn my eye 
 From vanity, 
 
 And point to scenes of bliss that never, never die. 
 
 What is this passing scene ? 
 
 A peevish April day ! 
 
 A little sun—a little rain, 
 
 And then night sweeps along the plain, 
 
 And all things fade away. 
 
 Man (soon discuss’d) 
 
 Yields up his trust. 
 
 And all his hopes and fears lie with him in the dust. 
 
 Then, since this world is vain, 
 
 And volatile, and fleet, 
 
 Why should I lay up earthly joys, 
 
 Where rust corrupts and moth destroys, 
 
 And cares and sorrows eat ? 
 
 Why fly from ill 
 With anxious skill, 
 
 When soon this hand will freeze, this throbbing heart 
 be still ?—Henry Kirke White. 
 
 867. DISAPPOINTMENT. Severe 
 
 Like one, who doom’d o’er distant seas 
 His weary path to measure, 
 
 When home, at length, with fav’ring breeze, 
 
 He brings the far-sought treasure ; 
 
 His ship, in sight of shore, goes down, 
 
 That shore to which he hasted, 
 
 And all the wealth he thought his own 
 Is o’er the waters wasted. 
 
 lake him, this heart, through many a track 
 Of toil and sorrow straying, 
 
 One hope alone, brought fondly back, 
 
 Its toil and grief repaying. 
 
 Like him, alas ! I see that ray 
 Of hope before me perish, 
 
 And one dark minute sweep away 
 What took whole years to cherish. 
 
DISCIPLINE 
 
 179 
 
 DISCIPLINE 
 
 
 868. DISCIPLINE. Benefit of 
 
 Peace, peace ; it is not so. Thou dost miscall 
 Thy physic ; pills that change 
 Thy sick accessions into settled health ; 
 
 This is the great elixir that turns gall 
 To wine and sweetness, poverty to wealth, 
 
 And brings man home when he doth range. 
 
 Did not He who ordain’d the day 
 Ordain night too ? 
 
 ( And in the greater world display 
 What in the lesser He would do ? 
 
 All flesh is clay, thou knowest; and but that God 
 Doth use His rod, 
 
 And by a fruitful change of frost and showers 
 Cherish and bind thy powers, 
 
 Thou would’st to weeds and thistles quite disperse, 
 And be more wild than is thy verse. 
 
 Sickness is wholesome, crosses are but curbs 
 To check the mule, unruly man ; 
 
 [ They are heaven’s husbandry, the famous fan, 
 Purging the floor, which chaff disturbs. 
 vVere all the year one constant sunshine, we 
 Should have no flowers ; 
 
 \11 would be drought and leanness; not a tree 
 Would make us bowers. 
 
 3 eauty consists in colours ; and that’s best 
 Which is not fix’d, but flies and flows. 
 
 The settled red is dull, and whites that rest 
 Something of sickness would disclose. 
 
 Vicissitude plays all the game ; 
 
 Nothing that stirs, 
 
 Or hath a name, 
 
 But waits upon this wheel; 
 kingdoms too have their physic, and for steel 
 Exchange their peace and furs, 
 hus doth God key disorder’d man, 
 
 Which none else can, 
 
 'uning his breast to rise and fall; 
 md by a sacred, needful art, 
 
 >ike strings, stretch ev’ry part, 
 
 Taking the whole most musical .—Henvy Vaughan. 
 
 869. DISCIPLINE. Design of 
 
 'HE path of sorrow, and that path alone, 
 
 ,eads to the land where sorrow is unknown. 
 
 <0 traveller e’er reach’d that blest abode, 
 
 V T ho found not thorns and briers in his road. 
 Worldlings may dance along the flowery plain, 
 heer’d, as they go, by many a sprightly strain ; 
 Where Nature has her mossy velvet spread, 
 
 With unshod feet they yet securely tread ; 
 .dmonish’d, scorn the caution and the friend, 
 ent on all pleasure, heedless of its end. 
 
 But He, who knew what human hearts would prove. 
 How slow to learn the dictates of His love, 
 
 That, hard by nature, and of stubborn will, 
 
 A life of ease would make them harder still, 
 
 In pity to the soul His grace design’d 
 To rescue from the ruins of mankind, 
 
 Call’d for a cloud to darken all their years, 
 
 And said, ‘Go spend them in the vale of tears.’ 
 
 Ccnuper. 
 
 870. DISCIPLINE. Mystery of 
 
 As the heart-strings only render 
 All their treasure of sweet sound,— 
 
 All their music, glad or tender,— 
 
 Firmly struck and tightly bound; 
 
 So the hearts of Christians owe 
 Each its deepest, sweetest strain 
 
 To the pressure firm of woe. 
 
 And the tension tight of pain. 
 
 Spices crush’d their pungence yield, 
 
 Trodden scents their sweets respire ; 
 
 Would you have its strength reveal’d. 
 
 Cast the incense in the fire: 
 
 Thus the crush’d and broken frame 
 Oft doth sweetest graces yield ; 
 
 And, through suffering, toil, and shame, 
 
 From the martyr’s keenest flame, 
 
 Heavenly incense is distill’d ! 
 
 Adam of St Vic to?', tr. by Mrs Charles. 
 
 871. DISCIPLINE. Peace in 
 
 The world can neither give nor take, 
 
 Nor can they comprehend 
 
 The peace of God, which Christ has bought— 
 The peace which knows no end. 
 
 The burning bush was not consumed 
 Whilst God remained there ; 
 
 The Three, when Jesus made the Fourth, 
 
 Found fire as soft as air. 
 
 God’s furnace doth in Zion stand ; 
 
 But Zion’s God sits by. 
 
 As the refiner views his gold, 
 
 With an observant eye. 
 
 His thoughts are high, His love is wise, 
 
 His wounds a cure intend ; 
 
 And, though He does not always smile, 
 
 He loves unto the end. 
 
 Cou?itess of Hu?itingdo?i a?id Joh?i Mason. 
 
 872. DISCIPLINE. Prayer for 
 
 In the still air music lies unheard ; 
 
 In the rough marble beauty hides unseen ; 
 
 To wake the music and the beauty needs 
 
 The master’s touch, the sculptor’s chisel keen. 
 
DISCIPLINE 180 DISCONTENT 
 
 Great Master ! touch us with Thy skilful hand ; 
 
 Let not the music that is in us die; 
 
 Great Sculptor ! hew and polish us ; nor let, 
 Hidden and lost, Thy form within us lie. 
 
 Spare not the stroke; do with us as Thou wilt ; 
 
 Let there be nought unfinish’d, broken, marr’d ; 
 Complete Thy purpose, that we may become 
 Thy perfect image, O our God and Lord ! 
 
 873. DISCIPLINE. Purpose of 
 
 Shrink not from suffering. Each dear blow, 
 From which thy smitten spirit bleeds, 
 
 Is but a messenger to show 
 The renovation which it needs. 
 
 The earthly sculptor smites the rock ; 
 
 Loud the relentless hammer rings ; 
 
 And from the rude, unshapen block, 
 
 At length, imprison’d beauty brings. 
 
 Thou art that rude, unshapen stone ; 
 
 And waitest, till the arm of strife 
 Shall make its crucifixions known, 
 
 And smite and carve thee into life. 
 
 The Pleavenly Sculptor works on thee; 
 
 Be patient. Soon His arm of might 
 Shall from thy prison’s darkness free, 
 
 And change thee to a form of light. — Upham, 
 
 874. DISCIPLINE. Weary of 
 
 I would have gone ; God bade me stay: 
 
 I would have work’d ; God bade me rest. 
 
 He broke my will from day to day, 
 
 He read my yearnings unexpress’d, 
 
 And said them nay. 
 
 Now I would stay ; God bids me go : 
 
 Now I would rest; God bids me work. 
 
 He breaks my heart toss’d to and fro, 
 
 My soul is wrung with doubts that lurk 
 And vex it so. 
 
 I go, Lord, where Thou sendest me : 
 
 Day after day I plod and moil : 
 
 But, Christ, my God, when will it be 
 That I may let alone my toil 
 
 And rest with Thee?— C. G. Rossetti. 
 
 875. DISCIPLINE. Wisdom of 
 
 Whate’er my God ordains is right; 
 
 His will is ever just ; 
 
 Howe’er He orders now my cause, 
 
 I will be still and trust. 
 
 He is my God ; 
 
 Though dark my road, 
 
 He holds me that I shall not fall, 
 Wherefore to Him I leave it all. 
 
 Whate’er my God ordains is right ; 
 
 He never will deceive ; 
 
 He leads me by the proper path. 
 
 And so to Him I cleave, 
 
 And take content 
 What He hath sent; 
 
 His hand can turn my grief away, 
 
 And patiently I wait His day. 
 
 Whate’er my God ordains is right; 
 
 He taketh thought for me ; 
 
 The cup that my Physician gives 
 No poison’d draught can be, 
 
 But medicine due; 
 
 For God is true ; 
 
 And on that changeless truth I build, 
 
 And all my heart with hope is fill’d. 
 
 Whate’er my God ordains is right; 
 
 Though I the cup must drink 
 That bitter seems to my faint heart, 
 
 I will not fear nor shrink ; 
 
 Tears pass away 
 With dawn of day ; 
 
 Sweet comfort yet shall fill my heart, 
 
 And pain and sorrow all depart. 
 
 Whate’er my God ordains is right; 
 
 My Light, my Life is He, 
 
 Who cannot will me aught but good ; 
 
 I trust Him utterly ; 
 
 For well I know. 
 
 In joy or woe, 
 
 We soon shall see as sunlight clear, 
 
 How faithful was our Guardian here. 
 
 Whate’er my God ordains is right ; 
 
 Here will I take my stand, 
 
 Though sorrow, need, or death make earth 
 For me a desert land. 
 
 My Father’s care 
 Is round me there ; 
 
 He holds me that I shall not fall. 
 
 And so to Him I leave it all. 
 
 S. Rodigast, tr. by C. Winkworth. 
 
 876. DISCONTENT. Constant 
 
 Man hath a weary pilgrimage 
 As through the world he wends ; 
 
 On every stage, from youth to age, 
 
 Still discontent attends. 
 
 With heaviness he casts his eye 
 Upon the road before, 
 
 And still remembers, with a sigh, 
 
 The days that are no more. 
 
DISCONTENT 
 
 181 
 
 DISCONTENT 
 
 To school the little exile goes, 
 
 Torn from its mother’s arms ; 
 
 What, then, shall soothe his earliest woes, 
 When novelty has lost its charms ? 
 Condemn’d to suffer, through the day, 
 Restraints which no rewards repay, 
 
 And cares where love has no concern, 
 Hope lengthens as she counts the hours 
 Before his wish’d return. 
 
 From hard control and tyrant-rules, 
 
 The unfeeling discipline of schools, 
 
 In thought he loves to roam ; 
 
 And tears will struggle in his eye, 
 
 While he remembers, with a sigh. 
 
 The comforts of his home. 
 
 Youth comes, the toils and cares of life 
 Torment the restless mind : 
 
 Where shall the tired and harass’d heart 
 Its consolation find ? 
 
 Then is not youth, as fancy tells, 
 
 Life’s summer prime of joy? 
 
 Ah, no ! for hopes too long delay’d, 
 
 And feelings blasted or betray’d. 
 
 Its fabled bliss destroy ; 
 
 And youth remembers, with a sigh. 
 
 The careless days of infancy. 
 
 Maturer manhood now arrives, 
 
 And other thoughts come on ; 
 
 But, with the baseless hopes of youth, 
 
 Its generous warmth is gone. 
 
 Cold, calculating cares succeed,— 
 
 The timid thought, the wary deed, 
 
 The dull realities of truth. 
 
 Back on the past he turns his eye, 
 Remembering, »with an envious sigh, 
 
 The happy dreams of youth. 
 
 So reaches he the latter stage 
 Of this our mortal pilgrimage, 
 
 With feeble step and slow : 
 
 New ills that latter stage await, 
 
 And old experience learns too late 
 That all is vanity below. 
 
 Life’s vain delusions are gone by, 
 
 Its hopes are o’er ; 
 
 Yet age remembers, with a sigh, 
 
 The days that are no more.— Southey. 
 
 877. DISCONTENT : cured by great sorrows. 
 
 r GHT human nature is too lightly tost 
 And ruffled without cause ; complaining on— 
 Restless with rest—until, being overthrown, 
 learneth to lie quiet. Let a frost 
 r a small wasp have crept to the innermost 
 
 Of our ripe peach ; or let the wilful sun 
 Shine westward of our window—straight we run 
 A furlong’s sigh as if the world were lost. 
 
 But what time through the heart and through the 
 brain 
 
 God hath transfix’d us, we, so moved beforej 
 
 Attain to a calm. Ay, shouldering weights of pain, 
 We anchor in deep waters, safe from shore; 
 
 And hear submissive, o’er the stormy main, 
 
 God’s charter’d judgments walk for evermore. 
 
 E. B . Browning. 
 
 878. DISCONTENT. Evil of 
 
 Sour discontent, that quarrels with our fate, 
 
 May give fresh smart, but not the old abate ; 
 
 The uneasy passion’s disingenuous wit 
 The ill reveals, but hides the benefit. 
 
 Blackmore , 
 
 It is not well to brood 
 Thus darkly o’er the cares that swell 
 Life’s current to a flood. 
 
 As brook, and torrents, rivers, all 
 Increase the gulf in which they fall, 
 
 Such thoughts, by gathering up the rills 
 Of lesser griefs, spread real ills ; 
 
 And with their gloomy shades conceal 
 The landmarks hope would else reveal. 
 
 Dinnies. 
 
 879. DISCONTENT. Fable of 
 
 The lion craved the fox’s art; 
 
 The fox the lion’s force and heart; 
 
 The cock implored the pigeon’s flight, 
 
 Whose wings were rapid, strong, and light; 
 
 The pigeon strength of wing despised, 
 
 And the cock’s matchless valour prized. 
 
 The fishes wish’d to graze the plain ; 
 
 The beasts to skim beneath the main. 
 
 Thus, envious of another’s state, 
 
 Each blamed the partial hand of fate.— Gay. 
 
 880. DISCONTENT : has its root in the heart. 
 
 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. 
 
 Cowley. 
 
 Against our peace we arm our will ; 
 
 Amidst our plenty something still 
 For horses, houses, pictures, planting, 
 
 To thee, to me, to him is wanting : 
 
 That cruel something unpossest 
 Corrodes and leavens all the rest; 
 
 That something if we could obtain, 
 
 Would soon create a future pain.— Prior. 
 
DISCONTENT 
 
 DISCRETION 
 
 i 
 
 881. DISCONTENT : incurable. 
 
 O’er the rocks we climb, 
 
 Erring, stumbling all the time, 
 
 Till we come out on the plain ; 
 
 But there it feels too wide and broad, 
 
 And soon we seek the narrow road, 
 
 And the mountain path again. 
 
 882. DISCONTENT : unconcealed. 
 
 ’Tis not my talent to conceal my thoughts, 
 
 Or carry smiles and sunshine in my face 
 When discontent sits heavy at my heart. 
 
 Addison. 
 
 883. DISCONTENT: universal. 
 
 Why discontent for ever harbour’d there ? 
 Incurable consumption of our peace ! 
 
 Resolve me why the cottager, and king, 
 
 He whom sea-sever’d realms obey, and he 
 Who steals his whole dominion from the waste, 
 Repelling winter’s blast with mud and straw, 
 Disquieted alike, draw sigh for sigh, 
 
 In fate so distant, in complaint so near. 
 
 Young. 
 
 884. DISCORD. Human 
 
 Oh shame to men ! Devil with Devil damn’d 
 Firm concord holds ; men only disagree 
 Of creatures rational; though under hope 
 Of heav’nly grace, and God proclaiming peace, 
 Yet live in hatred, enmity, and strife 
 Among themselves, and levy cruel wars, 
 
 Wasting the earth, each other to destroy : 
 
 As if (which might induce us to accord) 
 
 Man had not hellish foes enow besides, 
 
 That day and night for his destruction wait. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 885. DISCOURAGEMENT. Prayer in 
 
 ‘ Two hands upon the breast, 
 
 And labour’s done ; 
 
 Two pale feet cross’d in rest— 
 
 The race is won ; 
 
 Two eyes with coin-weights shut, 
 
 And all tears cease ; 
 
 Two lips where grief is mute, 
 
 Anger at peace : ’— 
 
 So pray we sometimes, mourning our lot ; 
 
 God in His kindness answereth not. 
 
 4 Two hands to work addrest 
 Aye for His praise ; 
 
 Two feet that never rest 
 Walking His ways ; 
 
 Two eyes that look above 
 Through all their tears ; 
 
 Two lips still breathing love, 
 
 Not wrath, nor fears — 
 
 So pray we afterwards, low on our knees 
 Pardon those erring prayers! Father, hea 
 these !— D. Muloch Craik. 
 
 886. DISCRETION. Importance of 
 
 Unto fair conclusions argueth generous youth, 
 
 And quickly he starteth on his course, knight-erran 
 to do good. 
 
 His sword is edged with arguments, his vizor terribh 
 with censures; 
 
 He goeth full-mailed in faith, and zeal is flaming a 
 his heart. 
 
 Yet one thing he lacketh, the Mentor of the mind, 
 
 The quiet whisper of Discretion,—Thy time is no 
 yet come. 
 
 For he smiteth an oppressor ; and vengeance for thai 
 smiting 
 
 Is dealt in double stripes on the faint body of the 
 victim; 
 
 He is glad to give and to distribute ; ana clamorous 
 pauperism feasteth, 
 
 While honest labour, pining, hideth his shark ribs : 
 
 He challengeth to a fair field that subtle giant, In¬ 
 fidelity, 
 
 And, worsted in the unequal fight, strengtheneth the 
 hands of error ; 
 
 He hasteth to teach and preach, as the war-horse 
 rusheth to the battle, 
 
 And, to pave a way for truth, would break up the 
 Apennines of prejudice: 
 
 He wearieth by stale proofs, where none looked for 
 a reason, 
 
 And to the listening ear will urge the false argument 
 of feeling. • 
 
 So hath it often been, that, judging by results, 
 
 The hottest friends of Truth have done her deadliest 
 wrong. 
 
 Take a lever by the middle, thou shalt seem to prove 
 it powerless ; 
 
 Argue for truth indiscreetly, thou shalt toil for false¬ 
 hood. 
 
 Discretion guide thee on the way, nobly-minded 
 youth, 
 
 Help thee to humour infirmities, to wink at innocent 
 errors, 
 
 To take small count of forms, to bear with prejudice 
 and fancy; 
 
 Discretion guard thine asking, discretion aid thine 
 answer, 
 
 Teach thee that well-timed silence hath more elo¬ 
 quence than speech, 
 
 Whisper thee, thou art Weakness, though thy cause 
 be strength. 
 
DISEASES 
 
 183 DISHONESTY 
 
 ar 
 
 nt 
 
 rhe snows of Hecla lie around its troubled, smoking 
 Geysers ; 
 
 Let the cool streams of prudence temper the hot 
 spring of zeal; 
 
 50 shalt thou gain thine honourable end, nor lose 
 the midway prize, 
 
 3 o shall thy life be useful, and thy young heart 
 happy— Tupper. 
 
 ■le 
 
 887. DISEASES : reminders of death. 
 
 vVise in his day the heathen emperor, 
 at To whom, each morrow, came a slave, and cried, 
 Philip, remember thou must die: ’ no more. 
 
 To me such daily voice were misapplied,— 
 ot Disease guests with me ; and each cough, or cramp, 
 Dr aching, like the Macedonian slave, 
 it is my memento mori.—David Gray. 
 
 888. DISEASES : spiritually profitable. 
 
 Oft have I sat in secret sighs 
 To feel my flesh decay, 
 
 Then mourn’d aloud with weeping eyes, 
 To view the tott’ring clay. 
 
 But I forbid my sorrows now, 
 
 Nor dares the flesh complain ; 
 Diseases bring their profit too, 
 
 a 
 
 The joy o’ercomes the pain. 
 
 My cheerful soul now all the day 
 Sits waiting here and sings, 
 
 Looks through the ruins of her clay, 
 And practises her wings. 
 
 Faith almost changes into sight, 
 
 While from 'afar she spies 
 Her fair inheritance in light 
 Above created skies. 
 
 Had but the prison walls been strong, 
 Without a flaw therein, 
 
 In darkness she had dwelt too long, 
 And less of glory seen. 
 
 889. DISENCHANTMENT. Process of 
 
 O Saviour ! whose mercy, severe in its kindness, 
 Hath chasten’d my wanderings and guided my way, 
 
 Adored be the power that illumined my blindness, 
 And wean’d me from phantoms that smiled to 
 betray. 
 
 Enchanted with all that was dazzling and fair, 
 
 I follow’d the rainbow, I caught at the toy; 
 
 And still in displeasure Thy goodness was there, 
 Disappointing the hope, and defeating the joy. 
 
 The blossom blush’d bright, but a worm was below ; 
 The moonlight shone fair, there was blight in the 
 beam; 
 
 Sweet whisper’d the breeze—but it whisper’d of woe; 
 And bitterness flow’d in the soft-flowing stream. 
 
 So cured of my folly, yet cured but in part, 
 
 I turn’d to the refuge Thy pity display’d ; 
 
 And still did this eager and credulous heart 
 
 Weave visions of promise that bloom’d but to fade. 
 
 I thought that the course of the pilgrim to heaven 
 Would be bright as the summer, and glad as the 
 morn : 
 
 Thou show’dst me the path ; it was dark and uneven, 
 All rugged with rock, and all tangled with thorn. 
 
 I dream’d of celestial rewards and renown, 
 
 I grasp’d at the triumph that blesses the brave ; 
 
 I ask’d for the palm-branch, the robe, and the crown, 
 I ask’d—and Thou show’dst me a cross and a 
 grave ! 
 
 Subdued and instructed at length to Thy will, 
 
 My hopes and my wishes I freely resign; 
 
 Oh, give me a heart that can wait and be still, 
 
 Nor know of a wish or a pleasure but Thine. 
 
 There are mansions exempted from sin and from woe, 
 But they stand in a region by mortals untrod; 
 
 There are rivers of joy, but they roll not below ; 
 There is rest, but ’tis found in the bosom of God. 
 
 Grant. 
 
 But now the everlasting hills 
 Through ev’ry chink appear, 
 
 And something of the joy she feels, 
 While she’s a prisoner here. 
 
 Oh ! may these walls stand tott’ring still, 
 The breaches never close, 
 
 If I must here in darkness dwell, 
 
 And all this glory lose. 
 
 Oh ! rather let this flesh decay, 
 
 The ruins wider grow, 
 
 Till glad to see th’ enlarged way, 
 
 I stretch my pinions through. — Watts. 
 
 890. DISHONESTY. Excuse for 
 
 A youngster at school, more sedate than the rest, 
 Had once his integrity put to the test : 
 
 His comrades had plotted an orchard to rob, 
 
 And ask’d him to go and assist in the job. 
 
 He was shock’d, sir, like you, and answer’d, * Oh 
 no! 
 
 What ! rob our good neighbour ! I pray you don’t 
 go ; 
 
 Besides, the man’s poor, his orchard’s his bread, 
 
 I Then think of his children, for they must be fed.’ 
 
DISHONOUR 
 
 184 
 
 DISSENSION 
 
 ‘You speak very fine, and you look very grave, 
 
 But apples we want, and apples we’ll have ; 
 
 If you will go with us, you shall have a share, 
 
 If not, you shall have neither apple nor pear.’ 
 
 They spoke and Tom ponder’d, ‘ I see they will go : 
 Poor man ! what a pity to injure him so ! 
 
 Poor man ! I would save him his fruit if I could, 
 
 But staying behind will do him no good. 
 
 ‘ If the matter depended alone upon me, 
 
 His apples might hang till they dropp’d from the 
 tree ; 
 
 But since they will take them, I think I’ll go too, 
 
 He will lose none by me, though I get a few.’ 
 
 His scruples thus silenced, Tom felt more at ease, 
 And went with his comrades the apples to seize : 
 
 He blamed and protested, but join’d in the plan : 
 
 He shared in the plunder, but pitied the man. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 891. DISHONOUR. 
 
 Love’s common unto all the mass of creatures, 
 
 As life and breath ; honour, to man alone : 
 
 Honour being then above life, dishonour must 
 Be worse than death; for fate can strike but one ; 
 Reproach doth reach whole families. — Cartwright. 
 
 Where shall we bury our shame ? 
 
 Where, in what desolate place, 
 
 Hide the last wreck of a name 
 Broken and stain’d by disgrace ? 
 
 Death may dissever the chain, 
 
 Oppression will cease when we’re gone; 
 
 But the dishonour, the stain, 
 
 Die as we may, will live on.— Moore . 
 
 892. DISQUIET. Emblem of 
 
 Behold an emblem of our human mind, 
 
 Crowded with thoughts that need a settled home, | 
 Yet like to eddying balls of foam 
 Within this whirlpool, they each other chase 
 Round and round, and neither find 
 An outlet nor a resting-place ! 
 
 Stranger, if such disquietude be thine, 
 
 [Fall on thy knees and sue for help Divine. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 893. DISQUIET. General 
 
 Eternal troubles haunt thy anxious mind, 
 
 Whose cause and cure thou never hop’st to find ; 
 But still uncertain, with thyself at strife. 
 
 Thou wanderest in the labyrinth of life. 
 
 . . . Uneasy both in country and in town, 
 
 1 hey search a place to lay their burden down. 
 
 One, restless in his palace, walks abroad, 
 
 And vainly thinks to leave behind the load: 
 
 But straight returns ; for he’s as restless there. 
 And finds there’s no relief in -open air. 
 
 Another to his villa would retire, 
 
 And spurs as hard as if it were on fire ; 
 
 No sooner enter’d at his country door, 
 
 But he begins to stretch, and yawn, and snore, 
 
 Or seek the city which he left before. 
 
 Thus ev’ry man o’erworks his weary will, 
 
 To shun himself, and to shake off his ill ; 
 
 The shaking fit returns, and hangs upon him still. 
 
 Lucretius , tr. by John Dryden. 
 
 894. DISSATISFACTION: troubles rich and 
 poor alike. 
 
 A man in his carriage was riding along, 
 
 A gaily-dress’d wife by his side, 
 
 In satin and laces ; she look’d like a queen, 
 
 And he like a king in his pride. 
 
 A wood-sawyer stood in the street as they pass’d; 
 
 The carriage and couple he eyed, 
 
 And said, as he work’d with a saw on a loc. 
 
 ‘ I wish I was rich and could ride.’ 
 
 The man in the carriage remark’d to his wife: 
 
 One thing I would give if I could— 
 
 I’d give all my wealth for the strength and the health 
 Of the man that saweth the wood. ’ 
 
 A pretty young maid with a bundle of work, 
 
 Whose face as the morning was fair, 
 
 Went tripping along with a smile of delight, 
 
 While humming a love-breathing air. 
 
 She look’d on the carriage—the lady she saw, 
 
 Array’d in apparel so fine, 
 
 And said, in a whisper, ‘ I wish from my heart 
 I hose satins and laces were mine.’ 
 
 ^ * 
 
 The lady look’d out on the maid with her work, 
 
 So fair in her calico dress, 
 
 And said, ‘ I’d relinquish possession and wealth 
 Her beauty and youth to possess.’ 
 
 Thus, in this world, whatever our lot, 
 
 Our minds and our time we employ 
 In longing and sighing for what we have not, 
 Ungrateful for what we enjoy. 
 
 We welcome the pleasure for which we have sigh’d, 
 The heart has a void in it still, 
 
 Growing deeper and wider the longer we live. 
 
 That nothing but Heaven can fill. 
 
 895. DISSENSION. Cause of 
 
 Alas ! how light a cause may move 
 Dissension between hearts that love ! 
 
DISTANCE 
 
 185 
 
 DIVINE UNION 
 
 Hearts that the world in vain had tried, 
 
 And sorrow but more closely tied ; 
 
 That stood the storm when waves were rough, 
 
 Yet in the sunny hour fall off 
 
 Like ships that have gone down at sea, 
 
 When heaven was all tranquillity ! 
 
 A something, light as air—a look, 
 
 A word unkind or wrongly taken— 
 
 Oh ! love, that tempests never shook, 
 
 A breath, a touch like this hath shaken. 
 
 And ruder words will soon rush in 
 To spread the breach that words begin; 
 
 And eyes forget the gentle ray 
 They wore in courtship’s smiling day ; 
 
 And voices lose the tone that shed 
 A tenderness round all they said ; 
 
 Till fast declining, one by one, 
 
 The sweetnesses of love are gone, 
 
 And hearts, so lately mingled, seem 
 Like broken clouds,—or like the stream, 
 
 That smiling left the mountain’s brow 
 As though its waters ne’er could sever, 
 
 Yet, ere it reach’d the plain below, 
 
 Breaks into floods, that part for ever. 
 
 Moore. 
 
 896. DISTANCE. Enchantment of 
 
 At summer eve, when Heaven’s ethereal bow 
 Spans with bright arch the glittering hills below, 
 Why to yon mountain turns the musing eye, 
 Whose sun-bright summit mingles with the sky ? 
 Why do those cliffs of shadowy tint appear 
 More sweet than all the landscape smiling near?— 
 ’Tis distance lends enchantment to the view, 
 
 And robes the mountain in its azure hue. 
 
 Thus, with delight, we linger to survey 
 The promised joys of life’s unmeasured way ; 
 Thus, from afar, each dim-discover’d scene 
 More pleasing seems than all the past hath been, 
 And every form, that Fancy can repair 
 From dark oblivion, grows divinely there. 
 
 Campbell . 
 
 The sails we see on the ocean 
 Are as white as white can be ; 
 
 But never one in the harbour 
 As white as the sails at sea. 
 
 And the clouds that crown the mountain 
 With purple and gold delight, 
 
 Turn to cold, grey mist and vapour 
 Ere ever we reach the height. 
 
 The mountains wear crowns of glory 
 Only when seen from afar ; 
 
 And the sails lose all their whiteness 
 Inside of the harbour bar. 
 
 Stately and fair is the vessel 
 That comes not near our beach : 
 
 Stately and grand the mountain 
 Whose height we never may reach. 
 
 O Distance, thou dear enchanter, 
 
 Still hold in thy magic veil 
 The glory of far-off mountains, 
 
 The gleam of the far-off sail ! 
 
 897. DISTRESS. Inconsolable 
 
 Go, when the hunter’s hand hath wrung 
 From forest-cave her shrieking young, 
 
 And calm the lonely lioness: 
 
 But soothe not—mock not my distress. 
 
 Byron . 
 
 898. DISTRUST: of God. 
 
 For days I have been cherishing 
 A little bird with broken wing. 
 
 I love it in my heart of hearts ; 
 
 To win its love I try all arts ; 
 
 I call it by each sweet pet name 
 That I can think, its fear to tame. 
 
 My room is still, and bright, and warm ; 
 The little thing is safe from harm. 
 
 If I had left it where it lay 
 Fluttering in the wintry day, 
 
 No mate remaining by its side, 
 
 Before nightfall it must have died. 
 
 It sips the drink, it eats the food ; 
 
 Plenty of both, all sweet and good. 
 
 But all the while my hand it flies, 
 
 Looks up at me with piteous eyes ; 
 
 From morn till night, restless and swift, 
 Runs to and fro, and tries to lift 
 Itself upon its broken wing, 
 
 And through the window-pane to spring. 
 
 Poor little bird ! Myself I see 
 From morn till night in watching thee. 
 
 A Power I cannot understand 
 Is sheltering me with loving hand: 
 
 It calls me by the dearest name, 
 
 My love to win, my fear to tame ; 
 
 Each day my daily food provides, 
 
 And night and day from danger hides 
 Me safe: the food, the warmth I take, 
 
 Yet all the while ungrateful make 
 Restless and piteous complaints, 
 
 And strive to break the kind restraints. 
 
 Helen Hunt. 
 
 899. DIVINE UNION. Satisfaction of 
 
 To me remains nor place nor time ; 
 
 My country is in every clime; 
 
DIVINE UNION 
 
 DOING GOOD 
 
 186 
 
 I can be calm and free from care 
 On any shore, since God is there. 
 
 While place we seek, or place we shun, 
 The soul finds happiness in none ; 
 
 But with a God to guide our way, 
 
 ’Tis equal joy to go or stay. 
 
 Could I be cast where Thou art not, 
 
 That were indeed a dreadful lot; 
 
 But regions none remote I call, 
 
 Secure of finding God in all. 
 
 My country, Lord, art Thou alone ; 
 
 No other can I claim to own ; 
 
 The point where all my wishes meet, 
 
 My law, my love ; life’s only sweet. 
 
 Madame Guy on. 
 
 900. DIVINE UNION. Simile of 
 
 The brooks rush downward to the sea, 
 
 Arising far in cliffs and mountains ; 
 
 But mingle soon rejoicingly, 
 
 And make great streams from little fountains. 
 
 And then the streams, without delay, 
 
 Still to the sea’s great bosom tending, 
 
 Roll proudly on their winding way, 
 
 At last with ocean’s billows blending. 
 
 And so, O God, our souls to Thee, 
 
 Onward and onward, ever going, 
 
 (We are the fountains, Thou the sea,) 
 
 To Thy great sea of life are flowing. 
 
 Yes ! One with God, as Christ is One, 
 
 No longer tost by earth’s commotion, 
 
 Our little streams, their journey done, 
 
 Shall rest, at last, in God’s great ocean. 
 
 Up ham. 
 
 901. DIVINITY OF CHRIST. Faith in the 
 
 Jesus is God ! the solid earth, 
 
 The ocean broad and bright, 
 
 The countless stars, like golden dust, 
 
 That strew the skies at night, 
 
 The wheeling storm, the dreadful fire, 
 
 The pleasant, wholesome air, 
 
 The summer’s sun, the winter’s frost, 
 
 His own creations were. 
 
 Jesus is God ! the glorious bands 
 Of golden angels sing 
 Songs of adoring praise to Him, 
 
 Their Maker and their King. 
 
 He was true God in Bethlehem’s crib ; 
 
 On Calvary’s cross true God : 
 
 He who in heaven eternal reign’d, 
 
 In time on earth abode. 
 
 Jesus is God ! there never was 
 A time when He was not; 
 
 Boundless, eternal, merciful, 
 
 The Word the Sire begot. 
 
 Backward our thoughts through ages stretch, 
 Onward through endless bliss ; 
 
 For there are two eternities, 
 
 And both alike are His !— Faber. 
 
 902. DOING GOOD. Need of 
 
 Alone, amid life’s griefs and perils, 
 
 The stoutest soul may quail: 
 
 Left to its own unaided efforts, 
 
 The strongest arm may fail. 
 
 Then let us learn to help each other, 
 Hoping unto the end : 
 
 Who sees in every man a brother, 
 
 Shall find in each a friend. 
 
 903. DOING GOOD. Payment for 
 
 Ah ! child ! the stream that brings 
 To thirsty lips their drink, 
 
 Is seldom drain’d ; for springs 
 Pour water to its brink. 
 
 The well-springs that supply 
 The streams are seldom spent, 
 
 For clouds of rain come by 
 To pay them what they lent. 
 
 The clouds that cast their rain 
 On lands that yield our food. 
 
 Have water from the main, 
 
 To make their losses good. 
 
 The sea is paid by lands, 
 
 With streams from ev’ry shore ; 
 
 So give with kindly hands, 
 
 For God can give you more. 
 
 He would that in a ring 
 
 11 is blessings should be sent, 
 
 From living thing to thing, 
 
 But nowhere stay’d or spent. 
 
 And ev’ry soul that takes, 
 
 But yields not on again, 
 
 Is so a link that breaks 
 
 In Heaven’s love-made chain. — Barnes. 
 
 904. DOING GOOD: rewarded. 
 
 ‘ Uphold my feeble branches 
 With thy strong arms, I pray ; ’ 
 
 Thus to the Elm, her neighbour, 
 
 The Vine was heard to say ; 
 
DOING WELL 
 
 1S7 
 
 DOUBT 
 
 ‘ Else, lying low and helpless, 
 
 A weary lot is mine, 
 
 Crawl’d o’er by every reptile, 
 
 And browsed by hungry kine. ’ 
 
 The Elm was moved to pity ; 
 
 Then spoke the generous tree: 
 
 ‘ My hapless friend, come hither, 
 
 And find support in me.’ 
 
 The kindly Elm receiving 
 The graceful Vine’s embrace, 
 
 Became, with that adornment, 
 
 The garden’s pride and grace ; 
 
 Became the chosen covert 
 In which the wild birds sing ; 
 
 Became the love of shepherds, 
 
 And the glory of the spring. 
 
 O beautiful example, 
 
 For youthful minds to heed ! 
 
 The good we do to others 
 Shall never miss its meed ; 
 
 The love of those whose sorrows 
 We lighten’d shall be ours, 
 
 And o’er the path we walk in 
 
 That love shall scatter flowers. — Bryant. 
 
 905. DOING WELL. Ways of 
 
 It is not they who idly dwell 
 In cloister grey, or hermit cell, 
 
 In prayer and vigil, night and day, 
 
 Wearing all their prime away, 
 
 Lord of Heaven ! that serve Thee well. 
 
 Action still must wait on thought ; 
 
 Life’s a voyage rough, though short; 
 
 We must dare the sorrow-wave, 
 
 Many a sin-storm we must brave, 
 
 Ere we reach our destined port. 
 
 4 
 
 Sitting listening on the shore 
 To the ocean’s restless roar, 
 
 Never launching on the main, 
 
 Can the merchant hope to gain 
 Wealth to swell his treasure store ? 
 
 Vain it were to watch beside 
 The pits where we our talents hide ; 
 
 We must face the noise and strife 
 Of the market-place of life, 
 
 That our trustiness be tried. 
 
 Where our Captain bids us go, 
 
 ’Tis not ours to murmur, ‘No.’ 
 
 He that gives the sword and shield, 
 Chooses too the battle-field ,. 
 
 On which we are to fight the foe. 
 
 906. DOMESTIC HAPPINESS. 
 
 Look here, and weep with tenderness and transport ! 
 What is all tasteless luxury to this ? 
 
 To these best joys, which holy love bestows ? 
 
 O Nature, parent Nature, thou alone 
 
 Art the true judge of what can make us happy. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 907. DOMESTIC LOVE : the lost Eden found. 
 
 Daughters of Eve ! your mother did not well: 
 
 She laid the apple in your father’s hand, 
 
 And we have read, O wonder ! what befell— 
 
 The man was not deceived, nor yet could stand ; 
 He chose to lose, for love of her, his throne— 
 
 With her could die, but could not live alone. 
 
 Daughters of Eve ! he did not fall so low, 
 
 Nor fall so far, as that sweet woman fell; 
 
 For something better, than as gods to know, 
 
 That husband in that home left off to dwell: 
 
 For this, till love be reckon’d less than lore, 
 
 Shall man be first and best for evermore. 
 
 Daughters of Eve ! it was for your dear sake 
 The world’s first hero died an uncrown’d king ; 
 But God’s great pity touch’d the grand mistake, 
 
 And made his married love a sacred thing : 
 
 For yet his nobler sons, if aught be true, 
 
 Find the lost Eden in their love to you. 
 
 Jean Bigelow. 
 
 908. DOUBT. Constant 
 
 Life’s sunniest hours are not without 
 The shadow of some lingering doubt; 
 
 Amid its brightest joys will steal 
 Spectres of evil yet to feel : 
 
 Its warmest love is blent with fears, 
 
 Its confidence a trembling one ; 
 
 Its smile—the harbinger of tears ; 
 
 Its hope—the change of April’s sun ! 
 
 A weary lot—in mercy given, 
 
 To fit the chasten’d soul for heaven. 
 
 Whittier. 
 
 909. DOUBT. Cure for 
 
 This pretty bird, oh ! how she flies and sings ! 
 
 But could she do so if she had not wings ? 
 
 Her wings bespeak my faith, her songs my peace ; 
 When I believe and sing, my doubtings cease. 
 
 Bunyan. 
 
 The mountain’s image trembling in the lake ? 
 
 Look up. Perhaps the mountain does not quake. 
 
 910. DOUBT : drives to despair. 
 
 But dreadful is their doom whom doubt has driven 
 To censure fate, and pious hope forego : 
 
DOUBT 
 
 DOUBTERS PRAYER 
 
 Like yonder blasted boughs by lightning riven, 
 Peifection, beauty, life, they never know, 
 
 But frown on all that pass, a monument of woe. 
 
 Beattie. 
 
 911. DOUBT. Hurtfulness of 
 
 Doubting things go ill often hurts more 
 Than to be sure they do ; for certainties 
 Either are past remedies, or, timely knowing, 
 
 The remedy then born.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Our doubts are traitors, 
 
 And make us lose the good we oft might win, 
 
 By fearing to attempt.— Shakespeare. 
 
 I run the gauntlet of a file of doubts, 
 
 Each one of which down hurls me to the ground. 
 
 Bailey. 
 
 912. DOUBT : incurable. 
 
 Known mischiefs have their cure, but doubts have 
 none ; 
 
 And better is despair than fruitless hope 
 Mix’d with a killing fear.— May. 
 
 913- DOUBT. Modest 
 
 The wound of ^eace is surety, 
 
 Surety secure ; but modest doubt is call’d 
 The beacon of the wise ; the tent that searches 
 To the bottom of the worst.— Shakespeare. 
 
 914- DOUBT : not to be encouraged. 
 
 Beware of doubt—faith is the subtle chain 
 Which binds us to the infinite ; the voice 
 Of a deep life within, that will remain 
 Until we crowd it thenc e.—Mrs E. 0 . Smith. 
 
 9 1 5 • DOUBTS. Prayer for deliverance from 
 
 While faith is with me I am blest, 
 
 It turns my darkest night to day; 
 
 But, while I clasp it to my breast, 
 
 I often feel it slide away. 
 
 Then, cold and dark, my spirit sinks, 
 
 To see my light of life depart; 
 
 And every friend of hell, methinks, 
 
 Enjoys the anguish of my heart. 
 
 What shall I do if all my love, 
 
 My hopes, my toil, are cast away; 
 
 And if there be no God above 
 
 d o hear and bless me when I pray ? 
 
 If this be vain delusion all, 
 
 If death be an eternal sleep, 
 
 And none can hear my secret call, 
 
 Or see the silent tears I weep, 
 
 188 
 
 Oh help me, God ! for Thou alone 
 Canst my distracted soul relieve ; 
 
 Forsake it not: it is Thine own, 
 
 Though weak, yet longing to believe. 
 
 Oh drive these cruel doubts away, 
 
 And make me know that Thou art God ! 
 A faith that shines by night and day, 
 
 Will lighten every earthly load. 
 
 If I believed that Jesus died, 
 
 And waking rose to reign above, 
 
 Then surely sorrow, sin, and pride 
 
 Must yield to peace, and hope, and love. 
 
 And all the blessed words He said 
 Will strength and holy joy impart, 
 
 A shield of safety o’er my head, 
 
 A spring of comfort in my heart! 
 
 Anne Bronte. 
 
 916. DOUBTER’S PRAYER. The 
 
 Fever’d by long unrest, of conflict weary, 
 
 Sicken’d by doubt, writhing with inward pain, 
 
 My spirit cries from out the midnight dreary, 
 
 For the old days of long-lost peace again. 
 
 Gone is my early Heaven, with all its radiant story 
 Of fiery throne, and glassy sea, and sapphire blaze; 
 Its white-robed throng, palm-bearing, crown’d with 
 golden glory; 
 
 Its ceaseless service of unhinder’d praise. 
 
 Vanish d my early Faith, with all its untold treasure 
 Of steadfast calm, and questionless repose ; 
 
 Barter d away—lost for a heap’d-up measure 
 
 Of strife, and doubt, and fears, and mental -woes. 
 
 No light, no life, no truth ! now from my soul for 
 ever 
 
 The last dim star withdraws its glimmering ray; 
 Lonely and hopeless, never on me, oh, never! 
 
 Shall break the dawn of the long looked-for day. 
 
 Rudder and anchor gone, on through the darkness 
 lonely 
 
 I drift o’er shoreless seas to deeper night, 
 
 Drifting, still drifting—oh, for one glimmer only, 
 
 One blessed ray of truth’s emerging light! 
 
 Out of the depths I cry—my anguish’d soul reveal¬ 
 ing* 
 
 Light in the darkness shining ! shed Thy life- 
 giving ray ; 
 
 Low at the cross I fall—I plead for aid and healing, 
 Oh, Christ, reveal Thyself, and turn my night to 
 day ! 
 
DO XO LOGY 
 
 189 
 
 DREAMS 
 
 The prayer is heard, else why this strange returning 
 To stranger peace, to calm unknown before ? 
 
 The peace of doubt dispell’d, the calm of vanquish’d 
 yearning, 
 
 A deeper, truer rest than that of yore. 
 
 Dh, Saviour-Man ! Priest, but in garments royal! 
 
 Oh, Light! oh, Truth ! Thyself the inner life ! 
 .Vhile at Thy cross I kneel in homage loyal, 
 
 I hear unmoved the weary din of strife ; 
 
 Content to wait till days of darken’d vision, 
 
 And lisping speech, and childish thought are done, 
 \nd knowledge vanishes in faith’s fruition, 
 
 As fading stars before the morning sun.— I. L. B. 
 
 917. DOXOLOGY. A Woman’s 
 
 Praise God, from whom all blessings flow, 
 Praise Him who sendeth joy and woe, 
 
 The Lord who takes, the Lord who gives,— 
 
 Oh praise Him, all that dies, and lives ! 
 
 He opens and He shuts His hand ; 
 
 But why, we cannot understand : 
 
 Pours, and dries up, His mercies’ flood, 
 
 And yet is still All-perfect Good. 
 
 We fathom not the mighty plan, 
 
 The mystery of God and man ; 
 
 We women, when afflictions come,— 
 
 We only suffer and are dumb. 
 
 And when, the tempest passing by, 
 
 He gleams out, sun-like, through our sky„ 
 
 We look up, and, through black clouds riven, 
 We recognize the smile of Heaven. 
 
 Ours is no wisdom of the wise, 
 
 We have no deep philosophies: 
 
 Child-like, we take both kiss and rod; 
 
 For he who loveth , knoweth God / 
 
 D. M. Midoch Craik. 
 
 918. DREAMS. Causes of 
 
 I talk of dreams, 
 
 Which are the children of an idle brain ; 
 
 Begot of nothing but vain fantasy ; 
 
 Which is as thin of substance as the air, 
 
 And more inconstant than the wind. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Dreams are but interludes which fancy makes ; 
 When monarch reason sleeps, this mimic wakes; 
 Compounds a medley of disjointed things, 
 
 A mob of cobblers, and a court of kings: 
 
 Light fumes are merry, grosser fumes are sad ; 
 Both are the reasonable soul run mad : 
 
 And many monstrous forms in sleep we see, 
 
 That neither were, nor are, nor e’er can be. 
 Sometimes forgotten things long cast behind 
 Rush forward in the brain, and come to mind. 
 
 The nurse’s legends are for truths received, 
 
 And the man dreams but what the boy believed. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 In sleep, when fancy is let loose to play, 
 
 Our dreams repeat the wishes of the day: 
 
 Though further toil his tired limbs refuse, 
 
 The dreaming hunter still the chase pursues ; 
 
 The judge a-bed dispenses still the laws, 
 
 And sleeps again o’er the unfinish’d cause ; 
 
 The dozing racer hears his chariot roll, 
 
 Smacks the vain whip, and shuns the fancied goal : 
 Me too the Muses, in the silent night, 
 
 With wonted chimes of jingling verse delight. 
 
 Claudius. 
 
 What studies please, what most delight, 
 
 And fill men’s thoughts, they dream them o’er at 
 night.— Creech. 
 
 919. DREAMS. Innocent 
 
 Innocent dreams be thine ! thy heart sends up 
 Its thoughts of purity, like pearly bells, 
 
 Rising in crystal fountains.— Willis. 
 
 920. DREAMS. Lessons in 
 
 Some dreams were useless—moved by turbid course 
 Of animal disorder ; not so all: 
 
 Deep moral lessons some impress’d, that nought 
 Could afterwards deface. And oft in dreams, 
 
 The master passion of the soul display’d 
 The huge deformity, conceal’d by day, 
 
 Warning the sleeper to beware, awake. 
 
 And oft in dreams, the reprobate and vile, 
 Unpardonable sinner—as he seem’d 
 Toppling upon the perilous edge of Hell— 
 
 In dreadful apparition, saw before 
 
 His vision pass, the shadows of the damn’d ; 
 
 And saw the glare of hollow, cursed eyes, 
 
 Spring from the skirts of the infernal night; 
 
 And saw the souls of wicked men, new dead, 
 
 By devils hearsed into the fiery gulf; 
 
 And heard the burning of the endless flames ; 
 
 And heard the weltering of the waves of wrath. 
 
 And sometimes, too, before his fancy pass’d 
 The Worm that never dies, writhing its folds 
 In hideous sort, and with eternal Death 
 Held horrid colloquy ; giving the wretch 
 Unwelcome earnest of the woe to come.— Pollok. 
 
DREAMS 
 
 190 
 
 DRESS 
 
 921. DREAMS. Marvels of 
 
 And yet, as angels in some brighter dreams 
 Call to the soul when man doth sleep, 
 
 So some strange thoughts transcend our wonted 
 themes, 
 
 And into glory peep. — Vaughan. 
 
 We walk in dreams on fairy land, 
 Where golden ore lies mix’d with common sand. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 922. DREAMS. Nature of 
 
 Our life is two-fold ; sleep hath its own world, 
 
 A boundary between the things misnamed 
 Death and existence ; sleep hath its own world, 
 And a wide realm of wild reality, 
 
 And dreams in their development have breath, 
 And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy ; 
 They leave a weight upon our waking thoughts, 
 They take a weight from off our waking toils, 
 
 They do divide our being ; they become 
 A portion of ourselves as of our time, 
 
 And look like heralds of eternity; 
 
 They pass like spirits of the past—they speak 
 Like sibyls of the future ; they have power— 
 
 The tyranny of pleasure and of pain ; 
 
 They make us what we were not—what they will, 
 And shake us with the vision that’s gone by, 
 
 The dread of vanish’d shadows. Are they so ? 
 
 Is not the past all shadow ? What are they ? 
 Creations of the mind ? The mind can make 
 Substances, and people planets of its own 
 With beings brighter than have been, and give 
 A breath to forms which can outlive all flesh. 
 
 Bvron. 
 
 m' 
 
 923. DREAMS. Power of 
 
 Strange is the power of dreams ! who has not felt, 
 When in the morning light such visions melt, 
 
 How the veil’d soul, though struggling to be free, 
 Ruled by that deep, unfathom’d mystery, 
 
 Wakes, haunted by the thoughts of good or ill, 
 
 Whose shading influence pursues us still ? 
 
 Mrs Norton. 
 
 924. DREAMS. Significance of 
 
 While o’er my limbs sleep’s soft dominion spread, 
 What though my soul fantastic measures trod 
 O’er fairy fields ; or mourn’d along the gloom 
 Of pathless woods ; or down the craggy steep 
 Hurl’d headlong, swam with pain the mantled pool; 
 Or scaled the cliff, or danced on hollow winds, 
 
 With antic shapes, wild natives of the brain ? 
 
 Her ceaseless flight, though devious, speaks her nature 
 Of subtler essence than the trodden clod ;— 
 
 For human weal, Heaven husbands all events, 
 
 Dull sleep instructs, nor sport vain dreams in vain. 
 
 Young. 
 
 925. DREAMS : sometimes significant. 
 
 God is also in sleep, and dreams advise, 
 
 Which He hath sent propitious, some great good 
 Presaging. — Milton. 
 
 But dreams full oft are found of real events 
 The forms and shadows.— Joanna Baillie. 
 
 926. DREAMS. Waking 
 
 Well may dreams present us fictions, 
 
 Since our waking moments teem 
 With such fanciful convictions 
 As make life itself a dream.— Canipbell. 
 
 927. DRESS. Character and 
 
 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 ? 
 
 Oh no ; good Kate, neither art thou the worse 
 For this poor furniture, and mean array. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 ’Tis the mind that makes the body rich: 
 
 And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds, 
 So honour peereth in the meanest habit. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Rich was his soul, though his attire was poor, 
 
 As Heaven had clothed His own ambassador. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 928. DRESS. Differences in 
 
 Fortune in men has some small difference made: 
 One flaunts in rags, one flutters in brocade ; 
 
 The cobbler apron’d, and the parson gown’d, 
 
 The friar hooded, and the monarch crown’d.— Pope. 
 
 929. DRESS. Extravagance in 
 
 Here, attired beyond our purse, we go 
 For useless ornament and flaunting show : 
 
 We take on trust, in purple robes to shine, 
 
 And poor, are yet ambitious to be fine. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 930. DRESS. Fashions in 
 
 Our dress, still varying, nor to forms confined, 
 Shifts like the sands, the sport of every wind. 
 
 Propertius. 
 
DRESS 
 
 DRUNKENNESS 
 
 191 
 
 931. DRESS. Love of 
 
 ‘ 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. 
 
 932. DRESS. Plain 
 
 A plain suit, since we can make but one, 
 
 Is better than to be by tarnish’d gaud’ry known. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 933 • DRESS. Pride in 
 
 How proud we are ! how fond to show 
 Our clothes, and call them rich and new ! 
 
 When the poor sheep and silkworm wore 
 That very clothing long before. 
 
 The tulip and the butterfly 
 Appear in gayer coats than I; 
 
 Let me be drest fine as I will, 
 
 Flies, worms, and flowers exceed me still. 
 
 Watts. 
 
 934. DRESS. Sacrifice to 
 
 We sacrifice to dress, till household joys 
 And comforts cease. Dress drains our cellar dry, 
 And keeps our larder lean ; puts out our fires: 
 And introduces hunger, frost, and woe, 
 
 Where peace and hospitality might reign. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 935 - DRUNKARDS: their contributions to the 
 national exchequer. 
 
 Ten thousand casks, 
 
 For ever dribbling out their base contents, 
 Touch’d by the Midas finger of the state, 
 
 Bleed gold for ministers to sport away. 
 
 Drink and be mad then. ’Tis your country bids. 
 Gloriously drunk, obey th’ important call, 
 
 Her cause demands the assistance of your throats, 
 Ye all can swallow, and she asks no more. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 936. DRUNKARDS : their talkativeness. 
 
 Thus as they swim in mutual swill, the talk, 
 Vociferous at once from twenty tongues, 
 
 Reels fast from theme to theme; from horses, hounds, 
 To church or mistress, politics or ghost, 
 
 In endless mazes, intricate, perplex’d.— Thomson. 
 
 937. DRUNKENNESS. Degradation of 
 
 Fly drunkenness, whose vile incontinence 
 Takes both away the reason and the sense; 
 
 Till by Circsean cups thy mind possest 
 Leaves to be man, and wholly turns a beast. 
 
 Think while thou swallow’st the capacious bowl, ] 
 Thou lett’st in seas to sack and drown thy soul. 
 That hell is open, to remembrance call, 
 
 And think how subject drunkards are to fall. 
 Consider how it soon destroys the grace 
 Of human shape, spoiling the beauteous face ; 
 Puffing the cheeks, blearing the curious eye, 
 Studding the face with vicious heraldry. 
 
 What pearls and rubies does the wine disclose, 
 Making the parse poor to enrich the nose ! 
 
 How does it nurse disease, infect the heart, 
 Drawing some sickness into every part ! 
 
 It weaks the brain, it spoils the memory, 
 
 Hasting on age, and wilful poverty: 
 
 It drowns thy better parts, making thy name 
 To foes a laughter, to thy friends a shame. 
 
 ’Tis virtue’s poison and the bane of trust, 
 
 The match of wrath, the fuel unto lust. 
 
 Quite leave this vice, and turn not to’t again, 
 
 Upon presumption of a stronger brain ; 
 
 For he that holds more wine than others can 
 I rather count a hogshead than a man. 
 
 Randolph. 
 
 938. DRUNKENNESS: described. 
 
 When fumes of wine do once the brain possess, 
 
 Then follows straight an indisposedness 
 Throughout ; the legs so fetter’d in that case, 
 
 They cannot with their reeling trunk keep pace. 
 
 The tongue trips, mind droops, eyes stand full of 
 water, 
 
 Noise, hiccough, brawls, and quarrels follow after. 
 
 . . . Dire was his thought, who first in poison 
 steep’d 
 
 The weapon form’d for slaughter—direr his, 
 
 And worthier of damnation, who instill’d 
 The mortal venom in the social cup, 
 
 To fill the veins with death instead of life. 
 
 Lucretius, tr. by John Dryden. 
 
 939 - DRUNKENNESS. Folly of 
 
 Oh that men should put an enemy in 
 Their mouths, to steal away their brains ! that we 
 Should with joy, pleasance, revel, and applause, 
 Transform ourselves into beasts.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Man with raging drink inflamed 
 Is far more savage and untamed ; 
 
 Supplies his loss of wit and sense 
 With barb’rousness and insolence ; 
 
 Believes himself, the less he’s able, 
 
 The more heroic, and formidable ; 
 
 Lays by his reason in his bowls, 
 
 As Turks are said to do their souls, 
 
DRUNKENNESS 
 
 DUTY 
 
 192 
 
 Until it has so often been 
 
 Shut out of its lodgings, and let in, 
 
 At length it never can attain 
 To find the right way back again. 
 
 Butler. 
 
 940. DRUNKENNESS. Influence of 
 
 It hath pleased the devil, drunkenness, to 
 Give place to the devil, wrath; one 
 Unperfectness shows me another, to 
 Make me frankly despise myself. 
 
 I will ask him for my place again ; he 
 Shall tell me I am a drunkard: had I 
 As many mouths as Hydra, such an answer 
 Would stop them all. To be now a sensible 
 Man, by and by a fool, and presently 
 A beast! every inordinate cup 
 Is unbless’d, and th’ ingredient is a devil. 
 
 O thou invisible spirit of wine, 
 
 If thou hast no name to be known by, let 
 Us call thee devil.— Shakespeare. 
 
 941. DUNCES. 
 
 Taught, or untaught, the dunce is still the same 
 Yet still the wretched master bears the blame. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 On every thorn delightful wisdom grows, 
 
 In every stream a sweet instruction flows ; 
 
 But some untaught o’erhear the whispering rill: 
 In spite of sacred leisure, blockheads still. 
 
 Young. 
 
 942. DUTY. Calls to 
 
 Away, then, causeless doubts and fears, 
 
 That weaken and enthrall; 
 
 Wipe off, my soul, thy faithless tears, 
 
 And rise to duty’s call. 
 
 How much is there to win and do, 
 
 How much to help and cheer ! 
 
 The fields are white, the labourers few ; 
 
 Wilt thou sit ’plaining here ? 
 
 Awake, my soul, to duty wake ; 
 
 Go pay the debt thou ow’st, 
 
 Go forward,—and the night shall break 
 Around thee as thou go’st. 
 
 A Red Sea may before thee flow, 
 
 Egyptian hosts pursue ; 
 
 But He that bids thee onward go 
 Will ope a pathway through. 
 
 Swift fly the hours, and brief the time 
 For action or repose ; 
 
 Fast flits this scene of woe and crime, 
 
 And soon the whole shall close : 
 
 The evening shadows deeper fall, 
 
 The daylight dies away ; 
 
 Wake, slumberer, at thy Master’s call, 
 
 And work while it is day ! — Lyte. 
 
 I 
 
 943. DUTY. Daily f 
 
 Each day its duty brings. The undone task 
 Of yesterday cannot be now fulfill’d 
 Without some current work’s displacement. ‘ Time 
 And tide will wait for none.’ Then let us act 
 So that they need not wait, and keep abreast 
 With them by the discharge of each day’s claim ; 
 
 For each new dawn, like a prolific tree, ** 
 
 Blossoms with blessings and with duties, which 
 
 So interwoven grow that he who shirks 
 
 The latter, fails the first. You cannot pick 
 
 The dainty and refuse the task. To win 
 
 The smile of Him who did His Father’s will ' y 
 
 In the great work assign’d Him, while ’twas day, 
 
 With love self-sacrificing, His high course ^ 
 
 We must with prayerful footsteps imitate ; 
 
 And, knowing not what one day may bring forth, 
 
 Live so that Death, come when he may, shall find 
 Us not defaulters in arrears with Time, 
 
 Mourning, like Titus, ‘ I have lost a day ! ’ 
 
 But busily engaged on something which 
 Shall cast a blessing on the world, rebound 
 With one to our own breasts, and tend to give 
 To man some benefit, to God some praise. 
 
 944. DUTY. Failures in 
 
 Said I not so,—that I would sin no more ? 
 Witness, my God, I did ; 
 
 Yet I am run again upon the score : 
 
 My. faults cannot be hid. 
 
 What shall I do?—Make vows and break them 
 still ? 
 
 ’Twill be but labour lost; 
 
 My good cannot prevail against mine ill: 
 
 The business will be crost. 
 
 Oh, say not so ; thou canst not tell what strength 
 Thy God may give thee at the length. 
 
 Renew thy vows, and if thou keep the last, 
 
 Thy God will pardon all that’s past. 
 
 Vow while thou canst; while thou canst vow 
 thou mayst 
 
 Perhaps perform it when thou thinkest least. 
 
 Thy God hath not denied thee all, 
 
 Whilst He permits thee but to call. 
 
 Call to thy God for grace to keep 
 
 Thy vows ; and if thou break them, weep. 
 
 Weep for thy broken vows, and vow again : 
 
 Vows made with tears cannot be still in vain. 
 
DUTY 
 
 193 
 
 DUTY 
 
 Then once again 
 I vow to mend my ways ; 
 
 Lord, say amen, 
 
 And thine be all the praise. 
 
 George Herbert. 
 
 945. DUTY. Moderation in 
 
 Without haste ! without rest! 
 
 Bind the motto to thy breast; 
 
 Bear it with thee as a spell; 
 
 Storm or sunshine, guard it well! 
 
 Heed not flowers that round thee bloom, 
 Bear it onward to the tomb ! 
 
 Haste not! Let no thoughtless deed 
 Mar for aye the spirit’s speed ! 
 
 Ponder well, and know the right,' 
 
 Onward then, and know thy might ! 
 
 Haste not! years can ne’er atone 
 For one reckless action done. 
 
 Rest not ! Life is sweeping by, 
 
 Go and dare, before you die ; 
 
 Something mighty and sublime 
 Leave behind to conquer time ! 
 
 Glorious ’tis to live for aye, 
 
 When these forms have pass’d away. 
 
 Haste not! rest not! calmly wait; 
 
 Meekly bear the storms of fate ! 
 
 Duty be thy polar guide ; 
 
 Do the right, whate’er betide ! 
 
 Plaste not! rest not! conflicts past, 
 
 God shall crown thy work at last.— Goethe. 
 
 946. DUTY : must be strictly adhered to. 
 
 To what gulfs 
 
 A single deviation from the track 
 Of human duties leads !— Byron. 
 
 947. DUTY. Our 
 
 Thy sum of duty let two words contain ; 
 
 Oh may they graven in thy heart remain : 
 
 Be humble and be just.— Prior. 
 
 What is our duty here ? To tend 
 From good to better—thence to best; 
 Grateful to drink life’s cup—then bend 
 Unmurmuring to our bed of rest ; 
 
 To pluck the flowers that round us blow, 
 Scattering our fragrance as we go.— Bowring. 
 
 948. DUTY. Results of 
 
 Yet do thy work ; it shall succeed 
 In thine or in another’s day ; 
 
 And if denied the victor’s meed, 
 
 Thou shalt not lack the toiler’s pay. 
 
 Faith shares the future’s promise ; Love’s 
 Self-offering is a triumph won ; 
 
 And each good thought or action moves 
 The dark world nearer to the sun. 
 
 Then faint not, falter not, nor plead 
 Thy weakness ; truth itself is strong ; 
 
 The lion’s strength, the eagle’s speed, 
 
 Are not alone vouchsafed to wrong. 
 
 Hast thou not, on some week of storm, 
 Seen the sweet Sabbath breaking fair, 
 
 And cloud and shadow, sunlit, form 
 The curtains of its tent of prayer ? 
 
 So, haply, when thy task shall end, 
 
 The wrong shall lose itself in right, 
 
 And all thy week-day darkness blend 
 With the long Sabbath of the light! 
 
 Whittier. 
 
 949. DUTY. Rewards of 
 
 Why thus longing, thus for ever sighing, 
 
 For the far-off, unattain’d and dim, 
 
 While the beautiful all around thee lying 
 Offers up its low perpetual hymn ? 
 
 Wouldst thou listen to its gentle teaching, 
 
 All thy restless yearnings it would still; 
 
 Leaf and flower and laden bee are preaching 
 Thine own sphere, though humble, first to fill. 
 
 Poor indeed thou must be, if around thee 
 Thou no ray of light and joy canst throw— 
 
 If no silken cord of love hath bound thee 
 To some little world through weal and woe ; 
 
 If no dear eyes thy fond love can brighten— 
 
 No fond voices answer to thine own; 
 
 If no brother’s sorrow thou canst lighten, 
 
 By daily sympathy and gentle tone. 
 
 Not by deeds that win the crowd’s applauses, 
 Not by works that give thee Avorld-renown, 
 
 Not by martyrdom or vaunted crosses, 
 
 Canst thou win and wear the immortal crown. 
 
 Harriet Winslow. 
 
 950. DUTY. The nearest 
 
 Sad, without hope, I watch’d the falling rain ; 
 One drop alone could not refresh the tree, 
 
 But drop on drop, till from its deepest root 
 The giant oak drank life and liberty. 
 
 Refresh’d, like nature, I afose to try 
 
 And do the duty which should nearest lie; 
 
 13 
 
DUTY 
 
 DUTY 194 
 
 And ere I knew my work was half begun, 
 
 The noble deed I sought in vain was done. 
 
 I sought to do some mighty act of good, 
 
 ' That I might prove how well my soul had striven. 
 I w’aited, while the days and hours pass’d by, 
 
 Yet bore no incense of my deed to heaven. 
 
 951. DUTY : the path to blessedness. 
 
 ‘ Hadst thou stay’d, I must have fled ! ’ 
 That is what the Vision said. 
 
 In his chamber, all alone, 
 
 Kneeling on the floor of stone, 
 
 ' Pray’d the monk in deep contrition 
 For his sins of indecision; 
 
 Pray’d for greater self-denial 
 In temptation and in trial : 
 
 It was noon-day by the dial, 
 
 And the monk was all alone. 
 
 Suddenly, as if it lighten’d, 
 
 An unwonted splendour brighten'd 
 All within him and without him, 
 
 In that narrow cell of stone ; 
 
 And he saw the blessed vision 
 Of our Lord, with light elysian, 
 
 Like a vesture wrapp’d about Him, 
 
 Like a garment round Him thrown. 
 
 Not as crucified and slain. 
 
 Not in agonies of pain, 
 
 Not with bleeding hands and feet, 
 
 Did the monk his Master see; 
 
 But as in the village street, 
 
 In the house or harvest-field, 
 
 Halt and lame and blind He heal’d, 
 
 When He walked in Galilee. 
 
 In an attitude imploring, 
 
 Hands upon his bosom cross’d, 
 
 Wondering, worshipping, adoring, 
 
 Knelt the monk in rapture lost : 
 
 Lord, he thought, in heaven that reignest, 
 Who am I, that thus Thou deignest 
 To reveal Thyself to me ! 
 
 Who am I, that, from the centre 
 Of Thy gloi*y, thou shouldst enter 
 This poor cell, my Guest to be ! 
 
 Then, amid his exaltation, 
 
 Loud the convent-bell appalling, 
 
 From its belfry calling, calling, 
 
 Kang through court and corridor, 
 
 With persistent iteration 
 He had never heard before. 
 
 It was now the appointed hour, 
 
 When, alike in shine or shower,. 
 
 Winter’s cold or summer’s heat. 
 
 To the convent-portals came 
 All the blind and halt and lame, 
 
 All the beggars of the street, 
 
 For their daily dole of food 
 Dealt them by the brotherhood ; 
 And their almoner was he 
 Who, upon his bended knee, 
 
 Rapt m silent ecstasy 
 Of divinest self-surrender, 
 
 Saw the Vision and the Splendour. 
 
 Deep distress and hesitation 
 Mingled with his adoration : 
 
 Should he go, or should he stay ? 
 Should he leave the poor to wait 
 Hungry at the convent-gate, 
 
 Till the Vision pass’d away ? 
 
 Should he slight his heavenly Guest, 
 Slight this Visitant celestial, 
 
 For a crowd of ragged, bestial 
 Beggars at the convent-gate ? 
 
 Would the Vision there remain? 
 Would the Vision come again ? 
 
 Then a voice within his breast 
 Whisper’d, audible and clear, 
 
 As if to the outward ear, 
 
 ‘ Do thy duty ; that is best: 
 
 Leave unto thy Lord the rest! ’ 
 
 Straightway to his feet he started, 
 And, with longing look intent 
 On the blessed Vision bent, 
 
 Slowly from his cell departed, 
 Slowly on his errand went. 
 
 At the gate the poor were waiting, 
 Looking through the iron grating 
 With that terror in the eye 
 That is only seen in those 
 Who, amid their wants and woes, 
 Hear the sound of doors that close, 
 And of feet that pass them by ; 
 Grown familiar with disfavour, 
 Grown familiar with the savour 
 Of the bread by which men die ! 
 
 But to-day, they knew not why, 
 
 Like the gate of Paradise 
 Seem’d the convent-gate to rise ; 
 Like a sacrament divine 
 Seem’d to them the bread and wine. 
 In his heart the monk was praying, 
 Thinking of the homeless poor,— 
 What they suffer and endure ; 
 
 What we see not, what we see : 
 
 And the inward voice was saying, 
 
 ‘ Whatsoever thing thou doest 
 
DUTY 
 
 m 
 
 DWELLING WITH CHRIST 
 
 To the least of mine, and lowest, 
 
 That thou doest unto me! ’ 
 
 Unto me ! but- had the Vision 
 Come to him in beggar’s clothing, 
 Come, a mendicant, imploring, 
 
 Would he then have knelt adorinjr. 
 
 Or have listen’d with derision, 
 
 And have turn’d away with loathing? 
 Thus his conscience put the o x uestion, 
 Full of troublesome suggestion. 
 
 As at length, with hurried pace, 
 Towards his cell he turn’d his face, 
 
 And beheld the convent bright 
 With a supernatural light, 
 
 Like a luminous cloud expanding 
 Over floor and wall and ceilimr. 
 
 But he paused with awe-struck feeling 
 At the threshold of the door ; 
 
 For the Vision still was standing 
 
 o 
 
 As he left it there before, 
 
 When the convent-bell appalling 
 From its belfry, calling, calling, 
 Summon’d him to feed the poor. 
 Through the long hour intervening 
 It had waited his return ; 
 
 And he felt his bosom burn, 
 Comprehending all the meaning, 
 
 When the blessed Vision said, 
 
 ‘ Hadst thou stay’d, I must have fled.’ 
 
 Longfellozv. 
 
 952. DUTY. Time for 
 
 Whate’er our thoughts or purpose be, 
 
 They cannot reach their destined end, 
 Unless, O God, they go with Thee, 
 
 And with Thy thoughts and purpose blend. 
 
 Keep time with God, and then the power, 
 Which in His mighty arm doth lie, 
 
 Shall crown the designated hour 
 With wisdom, strength, and victory. 
 
 Be not too fast, be not too slow ; 
 
 Be not too early, not too late ; 
 
 Go, where His orders bid thee go; 
 
 Wait, when His orders bid thee wait. 
 
 Keep time with God, await His call; 
 
 And step by step march boldly on ; 
 
 And thus thou shalt not faint nor fall, 
 
 And thus shalt wear the victor’s crown. 
 
 Up ham. 
 
 953 - DUTY : to be done fearlessly. 
 
 Time was I shrank from what was right 
 From fear of what was wronu; 
 
 O 7 
 
 I would not brave the sacred fight, 
 
 Because the foe was strong. 
 
 But now I cast that finer sense 
 And surer shame aside : 
 
 Such dread of sin was indolence, 
 
 Such aim at heaven was pride. 
 
 So, when my Saviour calls, I rise 
 And calmly do my best; 
 
 Leaving to Him, with silent eyes 
 Of faith and hope, the rest. 
 
 I step, I mount, where He has led ; 
 
 Then count my haltings o’er : 
 
 I know them ; yet, though self I dread, 
 
 I love His precepts more. 
 
 John II. Newman. 
 
 954. DUTY : transformed to pleasure. 
 
 Duty by habit is to pleasure turn’d : 
 
 He is content who to obey has learn’d. 
 
 Brydges. 
 
 955. DUTY : what it secures for us. 
 
 What shall I do to be for ever known ? 
 
 Thy duty ever. 
 
 This did full many who yet slept unknown— 
 
 Oh ! never, never 1 
 
 Think’st thou, perchance, that they remain un¬ 
 known, 
 
 Whom thou know’st not ? 
 
 By angel-trumpsln heaven their praise is blown— 
 Divine their lot. 
 
 What shall I do to gain eternal life ? 
 
 Discharge aright' 
 
 The simple dues with which each day is rife? 
 
 Yea-, with thy might. 
 
 Ere perfect scheme of action thou devise 
 Life will be fled, 
 
 While he who ever acts as conscience cries, 
 
 Shall live, though dead.— Schiller, 
 
 956. DWELLING WITH CHRIST. 
 
 Holy Ghost, Illuminator, 
 
 Shed Thy beams upon our eyes, 
 
 Help us to look up with Stephen, 
 
 And to see beyond the skies, 
 
 Yv here the Son of Man in glory 
 Standing is at God’s right hand, 
 
 Beckoning on His martyr army, 
 
 Succouring His faithful band. 
 
 See Him, who is gone before us, 
 
 Heavenly mansions to prepare, 
 
 See Him, who is ever pleading 
 For us with prevailing prayer ; 
 
DYING 
 
 196 
 
 EARLY DEATH 
 
 See Him, who with sound of trumpet, 
 
 And with His angelic train, 
 
 Summoning the world to judgment, 
 
 On the clouds shall come again. 
 
 Lift us up from earth to heaven, 
 
 Give us wings of faith and love, 
 
 Gales of holy aspiration 
 
 Wafting us to realms above ; 
 
 That, with hearts and minds uplifted, 
 
 We with Christ our Lord may dwell, 
 Where He sits enthroned in glory 
 In the heavenly citadel. 
 
 So at last, when He appeareth, 
 
 We from out our graves may spring, 
 
 With our youth renew’d like eagles’, 
 
 Flocking round our heavenly King, 
 
 Caught up on the clouds of heaven, 
 
 And may meet Him in the air, 
 
 Rise to realms where He is reigning, 
 
 And may reign for ever there. 
 
 C. Wordsworth. 
 
 957. DYING. Words of the 
 
 The tongues of dying men 
 Enforce attention like deep harmony; 
 
 Where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in 
 vain, 
 
 For they breathe truth, that breathe their words in 
 pain. 
 
 He that no more must say is listen’d more 
 Than they whom youth and ease have taught to glose ; 
 More are men’s ends mark’d, than their lives before : 
 The setting sun, and music at the close, 
 
 As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last; 
 
 Writ in remembrance more than things long past. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 958. EARLY DEATH : an honour. 
 
 Thou hast honour’d my child with the speed of Thy 
 choice, 
 
 Thou hast crown’d him with glory, o’erwhelm’d 
 him with mirth ; 
 
 He sings up in heaven, with his sweet-sounding voice, 
 While I, a saint’s mother, am weeping on earth. 
 
 Yet oh for that voice, which is thrilling through 
 heaven, 
 
 One moment my ears with its music to slake ; 
 
 Oh no ! not for worlds would I have him regiven, 
 Yet I long to have back what I would not retake. 
 
 I grudge him, and grudge him not! Father, Thou 
 knowest 
 
 The foolish confusions of innocent sorrow; 
 
 It is thus in Thy husbandry, Saviour : Thou sowest 
 The grief of to-day for the grace of to-morrow. 
 
 Faber. 
 
 959* EARLY DEATH : Jewish Apologue. 
 
 U P and down his gardens paced a king, 
 
 In the glorious season of the spring. 
 
 Lovely flow’rets there by him were seen 
 In their earliest bud and blossoming. 
 
 How should he those lovely flow’rets pull, 
 
 Half whose glory lay a hidden thing ? 
 
 I 
 
 When a few short days were gone, again 
 Visited his garden-plots the king : 
 
 And those flowers, so dewy, fresh, and fair, 
 Brighter than the brightest insect’s wing, 
 
 J 
 
 Each was hanging now a drooping head, 
 
 Each lay now a wan, discolour’d thing : 
 
 And he thought, Their scent and sweetness I 
 Had rejoiced in, earlier gathering. 
 
 So when in his gardens of delight 
 Did that monarch pace another spring, 
 
 4 
 
 And the folded buds again admired, 
 
 That did round them fragrant odour fling, 
 
 T 
 
 He with timely hand prevented now 
 The sad season of their withering, 
 
 Cull’d them in the glory of their prime, 
 
 Ere their fresh delight had taken wing. 
 
 Cull’d the young and beautiful, and laid 
 
 In his bosom gently, home to bring.— Trench. „ 
 
 960. EARLY DEATH : not an evil. 
 
 Then round our death-bed every friend should run, 
 And joy us of our conquest early won.— Dryden. 
 
 ‘ Whom the gods love die young ’ was said of yore, 
 
 And many deaths do they escape by this : ^ 
 
 The death of friends, and that which slays even more, 
 The death of friendship, love, youth, all that is, A , 
 Except mere breath ; and since the silent shore 
 Awaits at last even those who longest miss 
 The old archer’s shafts, perhaps the early grave 
 Which men weep over may be meant to save. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 1 Ere sin could blight, or sorrow fade, 
 
 Death came with friendly care, { 
 
 The opening bud to heaven convey’d, 
 
 And bade it blossom there. — Coleridge. 
 
 A lovely bud, so soft and fair, 
 
 Call’d hence by early doom ; 
 
EARLY DEATH 
 
 197 
 
 EARLY TRAINING 
 
 Just sent to show how sweet a flower 
 In Paradise would bloom. 
 
 Legh Richmond. 
 
 961. EARLY DEATH. Safety of 
 
 Go to thy rest, my child ; 
 
 Go to thy dreamless bed; 
 
 Gentle, and meek, and mild, 
 
 With blessings on thy head : 
 
 Fresh roses in thy hand, 
 
 Buds on thy pillow laid, 
 
 Haste from this fearful land, 
 
 Where flowers so quickly fade. 
 
 Before thy heart might learn 
 In waywardness to stray ; 
 
 Before thy feet could turn 
 
 The dark and downward way ; 
 
 Ere sin might wound thy breast, 
 
 Or sorrow wake the tear, 
 
 Rise to thy home of rest 
 In yon celestial sphere. ’ 
 
 Because thy smile was fair, 
 
 Thy lips and eyes so bright, 
 
 Because thy cradle-care 
 Was such a fond delight— 
 
 Shall love, with weak embrace, 
 
 Thy heavenward flight detain ? 
 
 No, angel ! seek thy place 
 Amid yon cherub train .—Mrs Sigourney. 
 
 962. EARLY PIETY. Duty of 
 
 Go thou, in life’s fair morning, 
 
 Go in the bloom of youth, 
 
 And buy, for thy adorning, 
 
 The precious pearl of truth : 
 
 Sell all thou hast, and buy it; 
 
 ’Tis worth all earthly things— 
 
 Rubies, and gold, and diamonds, 
 
 Sceptres, and crowns of kings. 
 
 Go, ere the clouds of sorrow 
 Steal o’er the bloom of youth ; 
 
 Defer not till to-morrow: 
 
 Go now, and buy the truth. 
 
 Go seek thy great Creator, 
 
 Learn early to be wise: 
 
 Go, place upon His altar 
 A morning sacrifice! 
 
 963. EARLY PIETY: its rewards. 
 
 Who dreams of God when passionate youth is high, 
 When first life’s weary waste his feet have trod ; 
 Who seeth angels’ footfalls in the sky, 
 
 Working the works of God,— 
 
 His sun shall fade as gently as it rose ; 
 
 Through the dark woof of death’s approaching 
 night, 
 
 His faith shall shoot, at life’s prophetic close, 
 
 Some threads of golden light. 
 
 For him the silver ladder shall be set, 
 
 His Saviour shall receive his latest breath; 
 
 He walketh to a fadeless coronet 
 
 Up through the gate of death. 
 
 From 1 Death of Jacobi by William Alexander. 
 
 964. EARLY PIETY: nobility of. 
 
 1 W.ho shall be greatest in Thy kingdom, Lord ? ’ 
 
 1 hus spake the disciples, grave and bearded men. 
 
 A child stood by; the Master call’d him there ; 
 
 \\ ond’ring, they waited for His gentle word; 
 
 The pity of His looks their spirits stirr’d. 
 
 * O men ! ’ said Christ, * ye needs must be forgiven 
 Much pride ! Your hearts must thrill with sorrow’s 
 chord ! 
 
 The greatest must be like this little child; 
 
 Tender and trustful, true, and meek, and mild.’ 
 
 On the fair head He softly laid His hand ; 
 
 The brave young eyes sought His in sweet sur¬ 
 prise ; 
 
 A sunbeam, shining from the heavenly land, 
 
 Seem’d sifted down from far above the skies. 
 
 965. EARLY TRAINING. Influence of 
 
 A babe in a house is a well-spring of pleasure, a 
 messenger of peace and love: 
 
 A resting-place for innocence on earth; a link be¬ 
 tween angels and men; 
 
 Yet is it a talent of trust, a loan to be render’d back 
 with interest; 
 
 A delight, but redolent of care; honey sweet, but 
 lacking not the bitter ; 
 
 For character groweth day by day, and all things 
 aid it in unfolding, 
 
 And the bent unto good or evil may be given in the 
 hours of infancy. 
 
 Scratch the green rind of a sapling, or wantonly 
 twist it in the soil, 
 
 The scarred and crooked oak will tell of thee for 
 centuries to come; 
 
 Even so mayest thou guide the mind to good, or lead 
 it to the marrings of evil, 
 
 For disposition is builded up by the fashioning of 
 first impressions. 
 
 Wherefore, though the voice of Instruction waiteth 
 for the ear of Reason, 
 
 Yet with his mother’s milk the young child drinketh 
 Education. 
 
Early training 
 
 198 
 
 EARTH 
 
 Patience is the first great lesson ; he may learn it at 
 the breast; 
 
 And the habit of obedience and trust may be grafted 
 on his mind in the cradle: 
 
 Hold the little hands in prayer, teach the weak 
 knees their kneeling; 
 
 Let him see thee speaking to thy God ; he will not 
 forget it afterwards ; 
 
 When old and grey will he feelingly remember a 
 mother’s tender piety, 
 
 And the touching recollection of her prayers shall 
 
 - Tapper. 
 
 arrest the strong man in his sin.- 
 
 966. EARLY TRAINING: is too often super¬ 
 ficial. 
 
 ’Tis granted, and no plainer truth appears, 
 
 Our most important are our earliest years ; 
 
 The mind, impressible and soft, with ease 
 Imbibes and copies what she hears and sees, 
 
 And through life’s labyrinth holds fast the clue 
 That Education gives her, false or true. 
 
 Plants raised with tenderness are seldom strong; 
 Man’s coltish disposition asks the thong; 
 
 And without discipline the favourite child, 
 
 Like a neglected forester, runs wild. 
 
 But we, as if good qualities would grow 
 Spontaneous, take but little pains to sow; 
 
 We give some Latin, and a smatch of Greek ; 
 Teach him to fence and figure twice a week: 
 
 And having done, we think, the best we can, 
 Praise his proficiency, and dub him man. 
 
 Accomplishments have taken virtue’s place, 
 
 And wisdom falls before exterior grace: 
 
 We slight the precious kernel of the stone, 
 
 And toil to polish its rough coat alone. 
 
 A just deportment, manners graced with ease. 
 Elegant phrase, and figure form’d to please, 
 
 Are qualities that seem to comprehend 
 Whatever parents, guardians, schools, intend ; 
 Hence an unfurnish’d and a listless mind, 
 
 Though busy, trifling; empty, though refined : 
 Hence all that interferes and dares to clash 
 With indolence and luxury is trash ; 
 
 While learning, once the man’s exclusive pride, 
 Seems verging fast towards the female side. 
 
 Cowpcr. 
 
 967. EARNESTNESS. Duty of 
 
 Full of vows and full of labour, 
 
 All our days fresh duties bring ; 
 
 I irst to God, and then our neighbour : 
 Christian life is an earnest thine; 
 
 Onward, ever onward pressing, 
 
 Yet untried as angel’s wing, 
 
 Believing, doing, blest and blessing : 
 
 Christian life is an earnest thing. 
 
 968. EARNESTNESS. Time for 
 
 We are living, we are dwelling, 
 
 In a grand and awful time ; 
 
 In an age on ages telling, 
 
 To be living is sublime. 
 
 Worlds are charging—Heaven beholding ; 
 
 Thou hast but an hour to fight: 
 
 Love’s pure banner now unfolding, 
 
 On—right onward for the fight. 
 
 From the crimes that men are crushing, 
 
 War’s dire curse, and slavery’s wrong, 
 
 To deliver him, now rushing, 
 
 Arm thee well—be strong—be strong. 
 
 Fear not! spurn the worldling’s laughter; 
 
 Friendship’s favour trample thou ; 
 
 Thou shalt find a long hereafter 
 To be more than tempts thee now. 
 
 Oh ! let all the soul within you, 
 
 For the truth’s sake go abroad ! 
 
 Strike ! let every nerve and sinew 
 Tell on ages—tell for God.— A. C. Coxe. 
 
 969. EARTH : a vestibule. 
 
 I believe this earth on which we stand 
 Is but the vestibule to glorious mansions, 
 
 Through which a moving crowd' for ever press. 
 
 Joanna Bail lie. 
 
 970. EARTH. Dying view of 
 
 Earth’s cup 
 Is poison’d; her renown, most infamous; 
 
 Pier gold, seem as it may, is really dust; 
 
 Her titles, slanderous names ; her praise, reproach ; 
 Her strength, an idiot’s boast; her wisdom, blind ; 
 Pier gain, eternal loss ; her hope, a dream ; 
 
 Her love, her friendship, enmity with God ; 
 
 Her promises, a lie ; her smile; a harlot’s ; 
 
 Her beauty, paint, and rotten within ; her pleasures, 
 Deadly assassins mask’d ; her laughter, grief; 
 
 Pier breasts, the sting of Death ; her total sum, 
 
 Her all, most utter vanity ; and all 
 Her lovers mad, insane most grievously, 
 
 And most insane, because they know it not. 
 
 Thus did the mighty reasoner, Death, declare ; 
 And volumes more: and in one word confirm’d 
 The Bible whole—Eternity is all.— Pollok. 
 
 971. EARTH. Enticements of 
 
 Sometimes we feel the wish across the mind, 
 
 1 hat we should join with God, and give the world 
 The go-by ; but the world meantime turns round, 
 And peeps us in the face, the wanton world; 
 
EARTH 
 
 199 
 
 EARTH 
 
 We feel it gently pressing down our arm, 
 
 The arm we raised to do for truth such wonders ; 
 We feel it softly bearing on our side; 
 
 We feel it touch and thrill us through the body, 
 And we are fools, and there’s an end of us.— Bailey. 
 
 972. EARTH : its beauties symbolic of Christ. 
 
 Nothing fair on earth I see, 
 
 But I straightway think on Thee ; 
 
 Thou art fairest in mine eyes, 
 
 Source in whom all beauty lies ! 
 
 When I see the reddening dawn, 
 
 And the golden sun of morn, 
 
 Quickly turns this heart of mine 
 To Thy glorious form Divine. 
 
 Oft I think upon Thy light, 
 
 When the grey morn breaks the night; 
 
 Think what glories lie in Thee, 
 
 Light of all eternity ! 
 
 When I see the moon arise, 
 
 ’Mid heaven’s thousand golden eyes, 
 
 Then I think, more glorious far 
 Is the Maker of yon star. 
 
 Or I think in spring’s sweet hours, 
 
 When the fields are gay with flowers, 
 
 As their varied hues I see, 
 
 What must their Creator be ! 
 
 When along the brook I wander, 
 
 Or beside the fountain ponder, 
 
 Straight my thoughts take wing and mount 
 Up to Thee, the purest Fount. 
 
 Sweetly sings the nightingale ; 
 
 Sweet the flute’s soft, plaintive tale : 
 
 Sweeter than their richest tone 
 Is the name of Mary’s Son. 
 
 Sweetly all the air is stirr’d, 
 
 When the echo’s call is heard ; 
 
 But no sounds my heart rejoice 
 Like to my Beloved’s voice. 
 
 Come, then, fairest Lord, appear! 
 
 Come, let me behold Thee here ! 
 
 I would see Thee face to face, 
 
 On Thy glorious light would gaze. 
 
 Take away these veils that blind, 
 
 Jesus, all my soul and mind ; 
 
 Henceforth ever let my heart 
 See Thee truly as Thou art. 
 
 Angelus Silesius, tr. by Catharine Wink-worth. 
 
 {See another translation, No. 485.) 
 
 973 - EARTH. Leaning on the 
 
 Lean not on earth; ’twill pierce thee to the heart; 
 A broken reed at best; but oft a spear ; 
 
 On its sharp point peace bleeds, and hope expires. 
 
 Young. 
 
 974 * EARTH. Living on 
 
 Oh, it is very sweet to live 
 
 Earth’s glorious things among— 
 
 These fingers wrought by God to touch 
 The living harp He’s strung. 
 
 ’Tis sweet to feel life’s warm, free tide 
 Gush through its thousand cells ; 
 
 And passing sweet the tide of soul 
 Refining as it swells. 
 
 Yet earth is but the porter’s lodge, 
 
 Where we admittance wait 
 To those rich palaces which lie 
 Beyond the guarded gate; 
 
 And this sweet life the wakening thrill 
 Felt faintly by a clod, 
 
 E’er yet to tread with Seraphim 
 
 The loftiest courts of God.— Emily Judson . 
 
 975 * EARTH. Need of the 
 
 The earth sad-sweet is deeply attaint with sin ! 
 The pure air, which encloses 
 Her and her starry kin, 
 
 Still shudders with the unspent palpitating 
 Of a great Curse, that to its utmost shore 
 Thrills with a deadly shiver 
 Which has not ceased to quiver 
 Down all the ages, nathless the strong beating 
 Of Angel-wings, and the defiant roar 
 Of Earth’s Titanic thunders. 
 
 Fair and sad, 
 
 In sin and beauty, our beloved Earth 
 Has need of all her sons'to make her glad ; 
 
 Idas need of martyrs to retire the hearth 
 Of her quench’d altars—of heroic men 
 With Freedom’s sword, or Truth’s supernal pen, 
 To shape the worn-out mould of nobleness again. 
 And she has need of Poets who can string 
 Their harps with steel to catch the lightning’s 
 fire, 
 
 And pour her thunders from the clanging wire } 
 To cheer the hero, mingling with his cheer, 
 Arouse the laggard in the battle’s rear, 
 
 Daunt the stern wicked, and from discord wring 
 Prevailing harmony, while the humblest soul 
 Who keeps the tune the warder angels sing 
 In golden choirs above, 
 
 And only wears, for crown and aureole, 
 
 The glow-worm light of lowliest human love, 
 
EARTH 
 
 200 
 
 EARTH 
 
 Shall fill with low, sweet undertones the 
 chasms 
 
 Of silence, ’twixt the booming thunder-spasms. 
 And Earth has need of Prophets fiery-lipp’d 
 And deep-soul’d, to announce the glorious 
 dooms 
 
 Writ on the silent heavens in starry script, 
 
 And flashing fitfully from her shuddering 
 tombs— 
 
 Commission’d Angels of the new-born Faith, 
 
 To teach the immortality of Good, 
 
 The soul’s God-likeness, Sin’s coeval death, 
 
 And Man’s indissoluble Brotherhood. 
 
 Yet never an age, when God has need of him, 
 Shall want its Man, predestined by that need, 
 To pour his life in fiery word or deed,— 
 
 The strong Archangel of the Elohim ! 
 
 Earth’s hollow want is prophet of his 
 coming; 
 
 In the low murmur of her famish’d cry, 
 
 And heavy sobs breathed up despairingly, 
 
 Ye hear the near invisible humming 
 Of his wide wings that fan the lurid sky 
 Into cool ripples of new life and hope, 
 
 While far in its dissolving ether ope 
 Deeps beyond deeps, of sapphire calm, to cheer 
 With Sabbath gleams the troubled Now and 
 Here. 
 
 976. EARTH : not our home. 
 
 I would not live alway—live alvvay below ! 
 
 Oh no, I’ll not linger when bidden to go : 
 
 The days of our pilgrimage granted us here, 
 
 Are enough for life’s woes, full enough for its cheer': 
 Would I shrink from the path which the prophets of 
 God, 
 
 Apostles, and martyrs, so joyfully trod? 
 
 I.ike a spirit unblest, o’er the earth would I roam, 
 While brethren and friends are all hastening home ? 
 
 I would not live alway: I ask not to stay, 
 
 Where storm after storm rises dark o’er the way ; 
 Where seeking for rest we but hover around, 
 
 Like the patriarch’s bird, and no resting is found; 
 Where Hope when she paints her gay bow in the 
 air, 
 
 Leaves its brilliance to fade in the night of despair, 
 And Joy’s fleeting angel ne’er sheds a glad ray, 
 
 Save the gleam of the plumage that bears him away. 
 
 I would not live alway—thus fetter’d by sin, 
 Temptation without and corruption within ; 
 
 In a moment of strength if I sever the chain, 
 
 Scarce the victory is mine, ere I’m captive again ; 
 E’en the rapture of pardon is mingled with fears, 
 
 And the cup of thanksgiving with penitent tears : 
 
 The festival trump calls for jubilant songs, 
 
 But my spirit her own miserere prolongs. 
 
 I would not live alway—no, welcome the tomb, 
 Since Jesus hath lain there, I dread not its gloom ; 
 Where He deign’d to sleep, I’ll too bow my head, 
 All peaceful to slumber on that hallow’d bed. 
 
 Then the glorious daybreak, to follow that night, 
 The orient gleam of the angels of light, 
 
 With their clarion call for the sleepers to rise 
 And chant forth their matins, away to the skies. 
 
 Who, who would live alway? away from his God, 
 Away from yon heaven, that blissful abode 
 Where the rivers of pleasure flow o’er the bright 
 plains, 
 
 And the noon-tide of glory eternally reigns ; 
 
 Where the saints of all ages in harmony meet 
 Their Saviour and brethren, transported to greet, 
 While the songs of salvation exultingly roll, 
 
 And the love of the Lord is the bliss of the soul. 
 
 That heavenly music ! hark, sweet in the air 
 The notes of the harpers how clear ringing there ! 
 And see, soft unfolding those portals of gold, 
 
 The King all array’d in His beauty behold ! 
 
 Oh give me, oh give me, the wings of a dove 
 To adore Him—be near Him—enrapt with His love; 
 I but wait for the summons, I list for the word— 
 Alleluia—Amen—evermore with the Lord. 
 
 Miihlenberg. 
 
 977. EARTH : nothing wholly vile. 
 
 Nought so vile that on the earth doth live. 
 
 But to the earth some special good doth give. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 978. EARTH. Pleasures of 
 
 Hast thou not seen, impatient boy, 51 
 Hast thou- not read the solemn truth, 
 
 That grey experience writes for giddy youth 
 On every mortal joy— 
 
 ‘ Pleasure must be dash’d with pain ! ’ 
 
 And yet, with heedless haste, 
 
 The thirsty boy repeats the taste, 
 
 Nor hearkens to despair, but tries the bowl again. 
 The rills of pleasure never run sincere ; 
 
 Earth has no unpolluted spring ; 
 
 From the cursed soil some dangerous taint they bear; 
 So roses grow on thorns, and honey wears a sting. 
 
 In vain we seek a heaven below the sky ; 
 
 The world has false, but flattering, charms : 
 
 Its distant joys show big in our esteem, 
 
 But lessen still as they draw near the eye ; 
 
 In our embrace the visions die, 
 
 And when we grasp the airy forms, 
 
 We lose the pleasing dream.— Walts. 
 
EARTH 
 
 EARTH AND HEAVEN 
 
 201 
 
 981. EARTH : a shadow. 
 
 As by the light of opening day, 
 
 The stars are all conceal’d, 
 
 So earthly pleasures fade away, 
 
 When Jesus is reveal’d. 
 
 979. EARTH. Prisoner of 
 
 Y et man, fool man ! here buries all his thoughts ; 
 Inters celestial hopes without one sigh. 
 
 Prisoner of earth, and pent beneath the moon, 
 
 Here pinions all his wishes : wing’d by Heaven 
 To fly at infinite ; and reach it there. 
 
 Where seraphs gather immortality, 
 
 On life’s fair tree, fast by the throne of God. 
 
 What golden joys ambrosial clustering glow 
 In His full beam, and ripen for the just, 
 
 Where momentary ages are no more ! 
 
 Where time, and pain, and chance, and death ex¬ 
 pire ! 
 
 And is it in the flight of threescore years, 
 
 To push eternity from human thought, 
 
 And smother souls immortal in the dust ? 
 
 A soul immortal, spending all her fires, 
 
 Wasting her strength in strenuous idleness, 
 
 Thrown into tumult, raptured, or alarm’d, 
 
 At aught this scene can threaten or indulge, 
 Resembles ocean into tempest wrought, 
 
 To waft a feather, or to drown a fly.— Young. 
 
 980. EARTH. Riches of the 
 
 Almighty, hear Thy children raise 
 The voice of thankfulness and praise, 
 
 To Him whose wisdom deign’d to plan 
 This fair and bright abode for man. 
 
 For when this orb of sea and land 
 Was moulded in Thy forming hand, 
 
 Thy calm, benignant smile impress’d 
 A beam of heaven upon its breast. 
 
 Then rose the hills, and broad and green 
 The vale’s deep pathway sank between ; 
 
 Then stretch’d the plains to where the sky 
 Stoops and shuts in th’ exploring eye. 
 
 Beneath that smile earth’s blossoms glow’d, 
 
 Her fountains gush’d, her rivers flow’d, 
 
 And from the shadowy wood was heard 
 The pleasant sounds of breeze and bird. 
 
 Thy hand outspread the billowy plains 
 Of ocean, nurse of genial rains, 
 
 Hung high the glorious sun and set 
 Night’s cressets in her arch of jet. 
 
 Lord, teach us, while th’ unsated gaze 
 Delighted on Thy works delays, 
 
 To deem the forms of beauty here 
 
 But shadows of a brighter sphere.— Bryant. 
 
 This is the desert, this the solitude, 
 
 How populous, how vital is the grave ! 
 
 This is creation’s melancholy vault, 
 
 The vale funereal, the sad cypress gloom ; 
 
 The land of apparitions, empty shades ; 
 
 All, all on earth is shadow ; all beyond 
 Is substance ; the reverse is Foily’s creed : 
 
 How solid all, where change shall be no more ! 
 
 This is the bud of being, the dim dawn, 
 
 The twilight of our day, the vestibule : 
 
 Life’s theatre as yet is shut, and death, 
 
 Strong death, alone can heave the massy bar, 
 This gross impediment of clay remove, 
 
 And make us, embryos of existence, free. 
 
 Young. 
 
 982. EARTH : unconstant. 
 
 Unconstant Earth 1 why do not mortals cease 
 To build their hopes upon so short a lease ? 
 Uncertain lease, whose term but once begun, 
 
 Tells never when it ends till it be done : 
 
 We dote upon thy smiles, not knowing why, 
 
 And whiles we but prepare to live, we die : 
 
 We spring like flowers for a day’s delight, 
 
 At noon we flourish, and we fade at night : 
 
 We toil for kingdoms, conquer crowns, and the 
 We that were gods but now, now less than men. 
 
 If wisdom, learning, knowledge, cannot dwell 
 Secure from change, vain bubble Earth, farewell. 
 
 Quarles. 
 
 983. EARTH AND HEAVEN. Beauty of 
 
 I praised the earth, in beauty seen 
 With garlands gay of various green ; 
 
 I praised the sea, whose ample field 
 Shone glorious as a silver shield ; 
 
 And earth and ocean seem’d to say, 
 
 ‘ Our beauties are but for a day.’ 
 
 I praised the sun, whose chariot roll’d 
 On wheels of amber and of gold ; 
 
 I praised the moon, whose softer eye 
 Gleam’d sweetly through the summer sky. 
 And moon and sun in answer said, 
 
 ‘ Our days of light are numbered.’ 
 
 O God ! O Good beyond compare ! 
 
 If thus Thy meaner works are fair, 
 
 If thus Thy bounties gild the span 
 Of ruin’d earth and sinful man, 
 
 How glorious must the mansion be, 
 
 Where Thy redeem’d shall dwell with Thee ! 
 
 Ilcber. 
 
EARTH AND HEAVEN 
 
 202 
 
 EASTER 
 
 984. EARTH AND HEAVEN: contrasted. 
 
 Here bliss is short, imperfect, insecure ; 
 
 But total, absolute, and perfect there. 
 
 Here, time’s a moment, short our happiest state ; 
 There, infinite duration is our date. 
 
 Here, Satan tempts, and troubles e’en the best; 
 There, Satan’s power extends not to the blest. 
 
 In a weak, simple body, here I dwell; 
 
 But there I drop this frail and sickly shell. 
 
 Here, my best thoughts are stain’d with guilt and fear; 
 But love and pardon shall be perfect there. 
 
 Here, my best duties are defiled with sin; 
 
 The)'e, all is ease without and peace within. 
 
 Here, feeble faith supplies my only light; 
 
 There, faith and hope are swallow’d up in sight. 
 Here, love of self my fairest works destroys ; 
 
 There, love of God shall perfect all my joys. 
 
 Here, things, as in a glass, are darkly shown ; 
 
 There, I shall know as clearly as I’m known. 
 
 Frail are the fairest flowers which bloom below ; 
 There, freshest palms on roots immortal grow. 
 
 Here, wants and cares perplex my anxious mind ; 
 
 But spirits there a calm fruition find. 
 
 The soul on earth is an immortal guest, 
 
 Condemn’d to starve at an unreal feast: 
 
 A spark, which upwards tends by Nature’s force ; 
 
 A stream, diverted from its parent source ; 
 
 A drop, dissever’d from the boundless sea ; 
 
 A moment, parted from eternity ; 
 
 A pilgrim, panting for the rest to come ; 
 
 An exile, anxious for his native home. 
 
 Hannah More. 
 
 985. EASE. 
 
 Like a coy maiden, Ease, when courted most, 
 Farthest retires—an idol at whose shrine 
 Who oft’nest sacrifice are favour’d least. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 986. EASE : in writing. 
 
 True ease in writing comes from art, not chance, 
 As those move easiest who have learn’d to dance. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 987. EASTER. Glad tidings of 
 
 I say to all men, far and near, 
 
 That He is risen again ; 
 
 1 hat He is with us now and here, 
 
 And ever shall remain. 
 
 Now first to souls who thus awake 
 Seems earth a fatherland; 
 
 A new and endless life they take 
 With rapture from His hand. 
 
 The fears of death and of the grave 
 Are whelm’d beneath the sea, 
 
 And every heart now light and brave 
 May face the things to be. 
 
 The way of darkness that He trod 
 To heaven at last shall come, 
 
 And he who hearkens to His word 
 Shall reach His Father’s home. 
 
 Now let the mourner grieve no more, 
 Though his beloved sleep ; 
 
 A happier meeting shall restore 
 Their light to eyes that weep. 
 
 Now every heart each noble deed 
 With new resolve may dare: 
 
 A glorious harvest shall the seed 
 In happier regions bear. 
 
 He lives: His presence hath not ceased. 
 Though foes and fears be rife ; 
 
 And thus we hail in Easter’s feast 
 A world renew’d to life ! 
 
 Novalis, tr. by Miss Winkworth . 
 
 988. EASTER. Joy of 
 
 Christ from the dead is risen—dieth no more. 
 
 Sing out, glad Earth, rejoice from shoi'e to shore. 
 First-fruits of them that slept! O Life in death ! 
 Fair garden lilies, with their odorous breath, 
 
 Salute with grace the world at Easter dawn. 
 
 The tomb is oped, the captive loosed and gone, 
 Christ from the dead is risen—dieth no more. 
 
 Sing out, O Earth, rejoice from shore to shore. 
 
 # 
 
 O wondrous mystery of Love ! through Lenten hours 
 What penitential tears have dimrn’d these eyes of 
 ours; 
 
 What anguish’d sighs have breathed from tortured, 
 quiv’ring hearts, 
 
 Pierced through by all the tempter’s sore envenom’d 
 
 darts. 
 
 Yet, glorious mystery of Love, the Lenten Fast 
 Ends with an angel-minister’d, divine repast. 
 
 Joy out of Sorrow blooms ; Passion’s black, cheer¬ 
 less night 
 
 And what I say, let each this morn 
 Go tell it to his friend. 
 
 That soon in every place shall dawn 
 His kingdom without end. 
 
 Grows fair with glowing rays of Easter Day, alight. 
 
 Hail! glorious mom ; Hail! blessed Day of days* 
 Glad o’er a sorrowing world shine forth thy healing 
 rays. 
 
EASTER 
 
 203 
 
 EASTER 
 
 Hark ! in the ambient glow of Easter morning fair, 
 
 Lo! conqueror’s psalms triumphant sound through 
 all the air: 
 
 ‘Jesus, our risen Lord, hath vanquish’d Death and 
 Hell, 
 
 Through the grave’s pathway pass’d where angels 
 dwell, 
 
 Deliverance wrought, Death’s sharpness done away, 
 
 And oped the Kingdom wide, on Easter Day. ’ 
 
 Mary E. C. Wyeth. 
 
 989. EASTER. Joy of 
 
 ’Txs the day of Resurrection, 
 
 Earth, tell it out abroad ! 
 
 The Passover of gladness, 
 
 The Passover of God ! 
 
 From death to life eternal. 
 
 From earth unto the sky, 
 
 Our Christ hath brought us over, 
 
 With hymns of victory. 
 
 Our hearts be pure from evil, 
 
 That we may see aright 
 The Lord in rays eternal 
 Of resurrection light: 
 
 And, list’ning to His accents, 
 
 May hear, so calm and plain, 
 
 His own ‘All hail! ’ and hearing, 
 
 May raise the victor strain. 
 
 Now let the heavens be joyful! 
 
 Let earth her song begin ! 
 
 Let the round world keep triumph, 
 
 And all that is therein: 
 
 In grateful exultation 
 
 Their notes let all things blend, 
 
 For Christ the Lord hath risen, 
 
 Our joy that hath no end. 
 
 John of Damascus , tr. by J. M. Neale. 
 
 990. EASTER. Joy of 
 
 Come, ye faithful, raise the strain 
 Of triumphant gladness ! 
 
 God hath brought His Israel 
 Into joy from sadness ; 
 
 Loosed from Pharaoh’s bitter yoke 
 Jacob’s sons and daughters ; 
 
 Led them with unmoisten’d foot 
 Through the Red Sea waters. 
 
 ’Tis the spring of souls to-day: 
 
 Christ hath burst Idis prison ; 
 
 And from three days’ sleep in death, 
 
 As a sun, hath risen. 
 
 All the winter of our sins 
 Long and dark, is flying 
 
 From His light, to whom we give 
 Laud and praise undying. 
 
 Now the queen of seasons, bright 
 With the day of splendour, 
 
 With the royal Feast of feasts, 
 
 Comes its joys to render: 
 
 Comes to glad Jerusalem, 
 
 Who with true affection 
 Welcomes, in unwearied strains, 
 
 Jesu’s Resurrection. 
 
 Neither might the gates of death, 
 
 Nor the tomb’s dark portal, 
 
 ' Nor the watchers, nor the seal, 
 
 Hold Thee as a mortal: 
 
 But to-day amidst the twelve 
 Thou didst stand, bestowing 
 That Thy peace, which evermore 
 Passeth human knowing. 
 
 John of Damascus, tr. by J. M. Neale. 
 
 991. EASTER. Lessons of 
 
 Say, my soul, what preparation 
 Makest thou for this high day, 
 
 When the God of thy salvation 
 Open’d through the tomb a way ? 
 
 Dwellest thou with pure affection 
 On this proof of power and love ? 
 
 Doth thy Saviour’s resurrection 
 
 Raise thy thoughts to things above ? 
 
 Hast thou, borne on Faith’s strong pinion; 
 
 Risen with the risen Lord ? 
 
 And, released from sin’s dominion, 
 
 Into purer regions soar’d ? 
 
 Or art thou, in spite of warning, 
 
 Dead in trespasses and sin ? 
 
 Hath to thee the purple morning 
 No true Easter usher’d in? 
 
 Oh, then, let not death o’ertake thee 
 By the shades of night o’erspread ! 
 
 See ! thy Lord is come to wake thee, 
 
 He is risen from the dead. 
 
 While the time as yet allows thee, 
 
 Hear ; the gracious Saviour cries, 
 i ‘ Sleeper, from thy sloth arouse thee ; 
 
 To new life at once arise.’ 
 
 See, with looks of tender pity 
 He extends His wounded hands, 
 
 Bidding thee, with fond entreaty, 
 
 Shake off sin’s enthralling bands: 
 
 ‘ Wait not for some future meetness, 
 
 Dread no punishment from me, 
 
 Rouse thyself, and taste the sweetness 
 Of the new life offer’d thee.’ 
 
204 
 
 EASTER 
 
 EASTER 
 
 Let no precious time be wasted, 
 
 To new life arise at length: 
 
 He who death for thee hath tasted, 
 
 For new life will give new strength. 
 
 Try to rise, at once bestir thee, 
 
 Still press on and persevere ; 
 
 Let no weariness deter thee, 
 
 He who woke thee still is near. 
 
 Waste not so much time in weighing 
 When and where thou shalt begin ; 
 
 Too much thinking is delaying, 
 
 Rivets but the chain of sin. 
 
 He will help thee and provide thee 
 With a courage not thine own, 
 
 Bear thee in His arms and guide thee, 
 
 Till thou leanest to walk alone. 
 
 See ! thy Lord Himself is risen, 
 
 That thou mightest also rise, 
 
 And emerge from sin’s dark prison 
 To new life and open skies, 
 
 Come to Him who can unbind thee. 
 
 And reverse thy awful doom ; 
 
 Come to Him, and leave behind thee 
 Thy old life—an empty tomb 1 
 
 Spitta, tr. by R. Massie. 
 
 99 2 » EASTER. Prayer for 
 
 O risen Lord ! O conquering King ! 
 
 O Life of all that live ! 
 
 To-day that peace of Easter bring 
 Which only Thou canst give ! 
 
 Once Death, our foe, 
 
 Had laid Thee low: 
 
 Now hast Thou rent his bonds in twain, 
 
 N ow ai t d hou risen who once wast slain ! 
 
 The power of Thy great majesty 
 Bursts rocks and tombs away, 
 
 Thy victory raises us with Thee 
 Into the glorious day ; 
 
 Now Satan’s might 
 And Death’s dark night 
 Have lost their power this blessed morn, 
 
 And we to higher life are born. 
 
 Oh that our hearts might inly know 
 Thy victory over death, 
 
 And gazing on Thy conflict glow 
 With eager, dauntless faith ! 
 
 Thy quenchless light, 
 
 Thy glorious might 
 Still comfortless and lonely leave 
 The soul that cannot yet believe. 
 
 Then break through our hard hearts Thy way, 
 O Jesus, conquering King ! 
 
 Kindle the lamp of faith to-day; 
 
 Teach our faint hearts to sing 
 For joy at length, 
 
 That in Thy strength 
 We, too, may rise whom sin had slain, 
 
 And Thine eternal rest attain. 
 
 And, when our tears for sin o’erflow, 
 
 Do Thou in love draw near, 
 
 The precious gift of peace bestow, 
 
 Shine on us bright and clear; 
 
 That so may we, 
 
 O Christ! from Thee 
 Drink in the life that cannot die, 
 
 And keep true Easter feasts on high. 
 
 Yes, let us truly know within 
 Thy rising from the dead ; 
 
 And quit the grave of death and sin, 
 
 And keep that gift, our Head, 
 
 That Thou didst leave 
 For all who cleave 
 
 To Thee through all this earthly strife: 
 
 So shall we enter into life. 
 
 Boehmer , tr. by Miss Winkworth. 
 
 993 - EASTER : the conquest of death. 
 
 The shade and gloom of life are fled 
 This Resurrection-day; 
 
 Henceforth in Christ are no more dead. 
 
 The grave hath no more prey : 
 
 In Christ we live, in Christ we sleep, 
 
 In Christ we wake and rise; 
 
 And the sad tears death makes us weep, 
 
 He wipes from all our eyes. 
 
 And every bird and every tree 
 And every opening flower 
 Proclaim His glorious victory, 
 
 His resurrection-power: 
 
 The folds are glad, the fields rejoice, 
 
 With vernal verdure spread ; 
 d he little hills lift up their voice, 
 
 And shout that Death is dead. 
 
 Then wake, glad heart! awake ! awake! 
 
 And seek thy risen Lord, 
 
 Joy in His resurrection take, 
 
 And comfort in His word ; 
 
 And let thy life, through all its ways. 
 
 One long thanksgiving be, 
 
 Its theme of joy, its song of praise, 
 
 Christ died, and rose for me.’— Monsell. 
 
EASTER 
 
 205 
 
 ECHO 
 
 994. EASTER. Triumphs of 
 
 The foe behind, the deep before, 
 
 Our hosts have dared and pass’d the sea : 
 And Pharaoh’s warriors strew the shore,, 
 
 And Israel’s ransom’d tribes are free. 
 
 Lift up, lift up your voices now ! 
 
 The whole wide world rejoices now ! 
 
 The Lord hath triumph’d gloriously! 
 
 The Lord shall reign victoriously ! 
 
 Happy morrow, 
 
 Turning sorrow 
 
 Into peace and mirth ! 
 
 Bondage ending 
 Love descending 
 O’er the earth ! 
 
 Seals assuring, 
 
 Guards securing, 
 
 Watch His earthly prison: 
 
 Seals are shatter’d, 
 
 Guards-are scatter’d, 
 
 Christ hath risen. 
 
 No longer must the mourners weep, 
 
 Nor call departed Christians dead ; 
 
 For Death is hallow’d into sleep, 
 
 And every grave becomes a bed. 
 
 Now once more 
 Eden’s door 
 
 Open’d stands to mortal eyes ; 
 
 For Christ hath risen, and man shall rise. 
 Now at last, 
 
 Old things past, 
 
 Hope, and joy, and peace begin : 
 
 For Christ hath won, and man shall win. 
 
 It is not exile, rest on high: 
 
 It is not sadness, peace from strife : 
 
 To fall asleep is not to die : 
 
 To dwell with Christ is better life. 
 
 Where our banner leads us, 
 
 We may safely go : 
 
 Where our Chief precedes us, 
 
 We may face the foe : 
 
 His right Arm is o’er us, 
 
 He will guide us through : 
 
 Christ hath gone before us, 
 
 Christians, follow you.— J. M. Neale. 
 
 995. EASTER SUNDAY. 
 
 Hail, Day of days ! in peals of praise 
 Throughout all ages own’d, 
 
 When Christ, our God, hell’s empire trod, 
 And high o’er heaven was throned. 
 
 This glorious morn the world new-bom 
 In rising beauty shows ; 
 
 How, with her Lord to life restored, 
 
 Her gifts and graces rose ! 
 
 The spring serene in sparkling sheen 
 The flower-clad earth arrays, 
 
 Heaven’s portal bright its radiant light 
 In fuller flood displays. 
 
 The fiery sun in loftier noon, 
 
 O’er heaven’s high orbit shines, 
 
 As o’er the tide of waters wide 
 He rises and declines. 
 
 From hell’s deep gloom, from earth’s dark tomb, 
 The Lord in triumph soars ; 
 
 The forests raise their leafy praise ; 
 
 The flowery field adores. 
 
 As star by star He mounts afar, 
 
 And hell imprison’d lies, 
 
 Let stars and light, and depths and height 
 In Hallelujahs rise. 
 
 Lo ! He Who died, the Crucified, 
 
 God over all He reigns ; 
 
 On Him we call, His creatures all, 
 
 Who heaven and earth sustains. 
 
 Tr. from the Latin by Mrs Charles. 
 
 996. ECHO. Moral of the 
 
 Yes, it'was the mountain Echo, 
 
 Solitary, clear, profound, 
 
 Answering to the shouting Cuckoo, 
 
 Giving to her sound for sound ! 
 
 Unsolicited reply 
 
 To a babbling wanderer sent; 
 
 Like her ordinary cry, 
 
 Like, but, oh ! how different! 
 
 Hears not also mortal Life— 
 
 Hear not we, unthinking creatures ! 
 Slaves of folly, love, or Strife- 
 Voices of two different natures ? 
 
 Have not we, too ?—yes, we have 
 Answers, and we know not whence , 
 Echoes from behind the grave, 
 
 Recognized intelligence ! 
 
 Such rebounds our inward ear 
 Catches sometimes from afar ; 
 
 Listen, ponder, hold them dear ; 
 
 For of God—of God they are. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
EDEN 
 
 206 
 
 education 
 
 997 - EDEN. Adam and Eve in 
 
 Thus they, the representatives o'f man, 
 
 "VV eie placed in Eden—choicest spot on earth. 
 With royal honour, and with glory crown’d, 
 Adam, the lord of all, majestic walked, 
 
 W ith godlike countenance sublime, and form 
 Of lofty, towering strength; and by his side 
 E\ e, fair as morning star, with modesty 
 Anay d, with virtue, grace, and perfect love ; 
 In holy marriage wed, and eloquent 
 Of thought and comely words, to worship God 
 And sing His praise, the Giver of all good. 
 Glad, in each other glad, and glad in hope; 
 Rejoicing in their future happy race. 
 
 O lovely, happy, blest, immortal pair, 
 
 Pleased with the present, full of glorious hope; 
 But short, alas, the song that sings their bliss. 
 
 To/M. 
 
 99S. EDEN. Departure from 
 
 In either hand the hastening angel caught 
 Our lingeiing parents, and to the eastern gate 
 Led them direct, and down the cliff as fast 
 To the subjected plain ; then disappear’d. 
 
 They, looking back, all the eastern side beheld 
 Of Paiadise, so late their happy seat, 
 
 Waved over by that flaming brand /the gate 
 With dreadful faces throng’d and fiery arms. 
 
 Some natural tears they dropt, but wiped them soon ; 
 The world was all before them, where to choose 
 Their place of rest, and Providence their guide. 
 They, hand in hand, with wandering steps and slow 
 Tlnough Eden took their solitary way.— Milton. 
 
 999 • EDEN. Memories of 
 
 In lestless pain we heave and toss 
 Like playthings of the Ocean, 
 
 And mourn with sharpest pangs of loss 
 Dead objects of devotion. 
 
 We follow light where’er it gleams, 
 
 Though marsh and mist encumber, 
 
 We reign, anointed kings—in dreams— 
 
 But wake iorlorn, from slumber. 
 
 We grasp at grains of shining dust, 
 
 But in the grasp they perish ; 
 
 W e put in men’s applause our trust_ 
 
 It cheats the hopes we cherish. 
 
 Remoise, a ghostly shadow, blights 
 Each wreath we weave for pleasure; 
 
 But lestless still we scale the heights, 
 
 Or search the mines for treasure. 
 
 Oh, nought of earth can e’er avail 
 While Eden-mem’ries haunt us ! 
 
 Our longings are on larger scale 
 Than lower worlds can grant us, 
 
 Vv e pant within the veil to be, 
 
 1 o roam in fields elysian, ' 
 
 And, ‘in His beauty,’ God to see, 
 
 L or die beneath the vision. 
 
 W. Morlcy Punshon. 
 
 1000. EDUCATION. Advanced 
 
 A little learning is a dangerous thing; 
 
 Drmk deep, or taste not the Pierian spring : 
 
 I here shallow draughts intoxicate the brain, 
 
 And drinking largely sobers us again. 
 
 Tired at first sight with what the Muse imparts, 
 
 In fearless youth we tempt the heights of arts, ’ 
 While from the bounded level of our mind 
 Short views we take, nor see the lengths behind : 
 But more advanced, behold the strange surprise. 
 New distant scenes of endless science rise ! 
 
 So pleased at first the towering Alps we try, 
 
 Mount o’er the vales, and seem to tread the sky; 
 
 I h eternal snows appear already past, 
 
 And tne first clouds and mountains seem the last: 
 But those attain’d, we tremble to survey 
 Tlie growing labours of the lengthen’d way ; 
 
 Th’ increasing prospect tires our wandering eyes, 
 Hills creep o’er hills, and Alps on Alps arise ! 
 
 Pope. 
 
 1001. EDUCATION. Atheistic 
 
 All knowledge is not nourishment. The mind 
 May pine upon its food. In reckless thirst 
 I he scholar sometimes kneels beside the stream 
 Polluted by the lepers of the mind. 
 
 The sceptic, with his doubts of all things good 
 And faith in all things evil, has been there, 
 
 And, as the stream was mingled, he has strowiT 
 d he shore with all bright flowers to tempt the eye, 
 And sloped the banks down gently for the feet; 
 
 And Genius, like a fallen child of light, 
 
 lias fill d the place with magic, and compell’d 
 
 Most beautiful creations into forms 
 
 And images of license, and they come 
 
 And tempt you with bewildering grace to kneel, 
 
 And drink of the wild waters; and behind 
 Stand the strong Passions, pleading to go in ; 
 
 And the approving world looks silent on ; 
 
 I ill the pleased mind conspires against itself, 
 
 And finds a subtle reason why ’tis good. 
 
 M e are deceived, though ; even as we drink, 
 
 M e taste the evil. In his sweetest tone, 
 
 The lying Tempter whispers in our ear, 
 
 Though it may stain, ’twill strengthen your proud 
 wing;’ 
 
 And in the wild ambition of the soul 
 
EDUCATION ■' 
 
 207 
 
 EFFORT 
 
 vVe drink anew, and dream like Lucifer 
 
 I'o mount upon our daring draught to Heaven. 
 
 Willis. 
 
 1002. EDUCATION. Capacity of 
 
 The heart has tendrils like the vine, 
 
 Which round another’s bosom twine, 
 Outspringing from the living tree 
 Of deeply planted sympathy ; 
 
 Whose flowers are hope, its fruits are bliss, 
 Beneficence its harvest is. 
 
 There are some bosoms dark and drear, 
 Which an unwater’d desert are ; 
 
 Yet there a curious eye may trace 
 Some smiling spot, some verdant place. 
 Where little flowers, the weeds between, 
 Spend their soft fragrance all unseen. 
 
 Despise them not—for wisdom’s toil 
 Has ne’er disturb’d that stubborn soil: 
 
 Yet care and culture might have brought 
 The ore of truth from mines of thought; 
 
 And fancy’s fairest flowers had bloom’d 
 Where truth and fancy lie entomb’d. 
 
 Insult him not—his .blackest crime 
 • May* in his Maker’s eye sublime, 
 
 In spite of all thy pride, be less 
 Than e’en thy daily waywardness ; 
 
 Than many a sin and many a stain 
 Forgotten—and impress’d again. 
 
 There is in every human heart 
 Some not completely barren part, 
 
 Where seeds of truth and love might grow 
 And flowers of generous virtue blow : 
 
 To plant, to watch, to water there— 
 
 This, as our duty, be our care ! 
 
 And sweet it is, the growth to trace, 
 
 Of worth, of intellect, of grace, 
 
 In bosoms where our labours first 
 Bid the young seed of spring-time burst, 
 
 And lead it on from hour to hour, 
 
 To ripen into perfect flower.— Bowring. 
 
 1003. EDUCATION. Duty of 
 
 As wrapt and hidden in the stone’s embrace 
 The future statue lies yet undefined ; 
 
 Till the nice chisel clears the form design’d, 
 The trunk, the moving limbs, the speaking face 
 Develops : so instruction’s hand must trace 
 The intellectual form, which lies enshrined 
 ’Mid nature’s rude materials ; and the mind 
 Invest with due proportion, strength, and grace. 
 
 God to thy teaching delegates the art 
 To form the future man: the care be thine, 
 
 No shape unworthy from the marble start, 
 
 Reptile or monster ; but with just design 
 Copy the heavenly model, and impart, 
 
 As best thou canst, similitude divine.— Mant. 
 
 1004. EDUCATION. Early 
 
 Induce not precocity of intellect, for so shouldst thou 
 nourish vanity; 
 
 Neither can a plant, forced in the hotbed, stand 
 against the frozen breath of winter. 
 
 The mind is made wealthy by ideas, but the multi¬ 
 tude of words is a clogging weight : 
 
 Therefore be understood in thy teaching, and instruct 
 to the measure of capacity. 
 
 Analogy is milk for babes, but abstract truths are 
 strong meat; 
 
 Precepts and -rules are repulsive to a child, but happy 
 illustration winneth him ; 
 
 In vain slialt thou preach of industry and prudence, 
 till he learn of the bee and the ant; 
 
 Dimly will he think of his soul, till the acorn and 
 chrysalis have taught him; 
 
 He will fear God in thunder, and worship His love¬ 
 liness in flowers ; 
 
 And parables shall charm his heart, while doctrines 
 seem dead mystery; 
 
 Faith shall he learn of the husbandman casting good 
 corn into the soil. — Tapper. 
 
 ’Tis Education forms the common mind ; 
 
 Just as the twig is bent the tree’s inclined. 
 
 Pope . 
 
 Children, like tender osiers, take the bow, 
 
 And as they first are fashion’d, always grow. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 1005. EDUCATION. Neglected 
 
 Laws hitherto are framed to punish crime. 
 
 All legislators have been slow to deal 
 With vice in its first elements ; and here 
 Lie the pernicious root and seeds of sin. 
 
 That children are permitted to grow up, 
 
 From infancy to youth, without instruction, 
 
 Is a grave wrong, and ne’er to be redeem’d 
 By penal statutes and the prisoner’s cell. 
 
 1006. EFFORT. Duty of 
 
 Scorn not the slightest word or deed, 
 
 Nor deem it void of power; 
 
 There’s fruit in each wind-wafted seed, 
 
 That waits its natal hour. 
 
EFFORT 
 
 208 
 
 ELIJAH 
 
 A whisper’d word may touch the heart, 
 And call it back to life; 
 
 A look of love bid sin depart, 
 
 And still unholy strife. 
 
 No act falls fruitless ; none can tell 
 How vast its powers may be, 
 
 Nor what results infolded dwell 
 Within it silently. 
 
 Work on, despair not; bring thy mite, 
 Nor care how small it be ; 
 
 God is with all that serve the right. 
 
 The holy, true, and free. 
 
 1007. EFFORT. Encouragement to 
 
 What if the little rain should say, 
 
 ‘ So small a drop as I 
 Can ne’er refresh those thirsty fields ; 
 I’ll tarry in the sky ? ’ 
 
 What if a shining beam of noon 
 Should in its fountain stay, 
 
 Because its feeble light alone 
 Cannot create a day ? 
 
 Doth not each rain-drop help to form 
 The cool refreshing shower ? 
 
 And every ray of light to warm 
 And beautify the flower ? 
 
 Go then and strive to do thy share: 
 
 One talent—less than thine— 
 Improved with steady zeal and care, 
 Would gain rewards divine.— Cutter . 
 
 1008. EFFORT. Fruitless 
 
 Or shall I say, Vain word, false thought, 
 Since Prudence hath her martyrs too, 
 And Wisdom dictates not to do. 
 
 Till doing shall be not for nought ? 
 
 Not ours to give or lose is life : 
 
 Will Nature, when her brave ones fall, 
 Remake her Work ? or songs recall 
 Death’s victim slain in useless strife ? 
 
 That rivers flow into the sea 
 Is loss and waste, the foolish say, 
 
 Nor know that back they find their way, 
 Unseen, to where they wont to be. 
 
 Showers fall upon the hills, springs flow, 
 The river runneth still at hand, 
 
 Brave men are born into the land, 
 
 And whence, the foolish do not know. 
 
 No! no vain voice did on me fall, 
 
 Peschiera, when thy bridge I crost: 
 
 ‘ ’Tis better to have fought and lost, 
 
 Than never to have fought at all.’— Clough. 
 
 1009. ELECT. Fewness of the 
 
 Few are the clear, strong spirits, who can bear 
 To look on Truth in her unclouded blaze ; 
 
 Few are the high, heroic souls, who dare, 
 
 Above the low pursuit of gain, to raise 
 Their firm, unbending purpose ; few can gaze 
 At Virtue, on her pure and awful throne— 
 
 Ah ! few can love the ethereal coin she pays— 
 
 But they must love it, for the souls alone 
 Who master self can claim our birthright as their 
 own. — Percival. 
 
 1010. ELIJAH. Voice to 
 
 On Horeb’s rock the Prophet stood ; 
 
 The Lord before him past. 
 
 A hurricane in angry mood 
 Swept by him strong and fast. 
 
 The forests fell before its force, 
 
 The rocks were shiver’d in its course ; 
 
 God was not in the blast. 
 
 ’Twas but the whirlwind of His breath, 
 Announcing danger, wreck, and death. 
 
 It ceased. The air grew mute—a cloud 
 Came muffling up the sufi; 
 
 When through the mountains deep and loud 
 An earthquake thunder’d on. 
 
 The frighted eagle sprang in air, 
 
 The wolf ran howling from his lair: 
 
 God was not in the stun. 
 
 ’Twas but the rolling of His car, 
 
 The trampling of His steeds from far. 
 
 ’Twas still again, and Nature stood 
 And calm’d her ruffled frame ! 
 
 When swift from heaven a fiery flood 
 To earth devouring came. 
 
 Down to his depths the ocean fled, 
 
 The sick’ning sun look’d wan and dead: 
 
 Yet God fill’d not the flame. 
 
 ’Twas but the terrors of His eye 
 That lighten’d through the troubled sky. 
 
 At last a voice all still and small, 
 
 Rose sweetly on the ear, 
 
 Yet rose so clear and shrill, that all 
 In heaven and earth might hear: 
 
 It spoke of peace, it spoke of love, 
 
 It spoke as angels speak above, 
 
 And God Himself was here. 
 
 For, oh, it was a P'ather’s voice 
 That bade His trembling world rejoice. 
 
ELOQUENCE 
 
 209 
 
 ELOQUENCE 
 
 1011. ELOQUENCE. Action is 
 
 In such business 
 
 Action is eloquence, and the eyes of th’ ignorant 
 More learned than the ears.— Shakespeare. 
 
 1012. ELOQUENCE. Dumb 
 
 Her humble gestures made the residue plain, 
 Dumb eloquence persuading more than speech. 
 
 Roscommon. 
 
 1013. ELOQUENCE. Effect of 
 When he speaks, 
 
 The air, a charter’d libertine, is still, 
 
 And the mute wonder lurketh in men’s ears 
 To steal his sweet and honey’d sentences. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Every word he speaks is a syren’s note, 
 
 To draw the careless hearer.— Beaumont. 
 
 Who talks of dying in a voice so sweet, 
 
 That life’s in love with it. — Otway. 
 
 His words seem’d oracles 
 
 That pierced their bosoms ; and each man would 
 turn 
 
 ^ And gaze in wonder on his neighbour’s face, 
 
 That with the like dumb wonder answer’d him. 
 
 You could have heard 
 
 The beating of your pulses while he spoke.— Croly. 
 
 I’ve known the pregnant thinkers of this time, 
 
 • An^l stood by breathless, hanging on their lips. 
 
 When some chromatic sequence of fine thought, 
 
 In learned modulation phrased itself 
 To an unconjectured harmony of truth. 
 
 And yet I’ve been more moved, more raised, I say, 
 By a simple word—a broken, easy thing, 
 
 A three-years’ infant might say after you— 
 
 . A look, a sigh, a touch upon the palm, 
 
 Which meant less than ‘ I love you ’ . . . than by all 
 The full-voiced rhetoric of those master-mouths. 
 
 E. B. Browning. 
 
 y 
 
 1014. ELOQUENCE. Female 
 
 Men are more eloquent than women made; 
 
 » But women are more powerful to persuade. 
 
 Randolph. 
 
 1015. ELOQUENCE. Method of 
 
 There’s a charm in deliv’ry, a magical art, 
 
 That thrills like a kiss from the lips to the heart; 
 
 ’Tis the glance — the expression—the well-chosen 
 word— 
 
 By whose magic the depths of the spirit are stirr’d. 
 
 The lip’s soft persuasion—its musical tone: 
 
 Oh ! such were the charms of that eloquent One. 
 
 Mrs Welby. 
 
 1016. ELOQUENCE: misused. 
 
 His tongue 
 
 Dropp’d manna, and could make the worse appear 
 The better reason, to perplex and dash 
 Maturest counsels.— Milton. 
 
 Too plain thy nakedness of soul espy’d, 
 
 Why dost thou strive the conscious shame to hide, 
 By masks of eloquence, and veils of pride ?— Prior. 
 
 O Eloquence ! thou violated fair ! 
 
 How art thou woo’d, and won to either bed 
 Of right or wrong ! Oh when injustice folds thee, 
 Dost thou not curse thy charms for pleasing him, 
 And blush at conquest.— Havard. 
 
 1017. ELOQUENCE. Overmastering 
 
 The charms of eloquence—the skill 
 To wake each secret string, 
 
 And from the bosom’s chords at will 
 Life’s mournful music bring ; 
 
 The o’ermast’ring strength obmind, which sways 
 The haughty and the free, 
 
 Whose might earth’s mightiest ones obey, 
 
 This charm was given to thee. — Airs Embury. 
 
 1018. ELOQUENCE. Persuasive 
 
 When he spoke, what tender words he used ! 
 
 So softly, that, like flakes of feather’d snow, 
 They melted as they fell.— Dryden. 
 
 1019. ELOQUENCE. Power of 
 
 Power above powers ! O heavenly Eloquence, 
 That with the strong rein of commanding words, 
 Dost manage, guide, and master th’ eminence 
 Of men’s affections, more than all their swords ! 
 Shall we not offer to thy excellence 
 The richest treasures that our wit affords ? 
 
 Thou that canst do so much more with one pen 
 Than all the powers of princes can effect; 
 
 And draw, divert, dispose, and fashion men. 
 
 Better than force or rigour can direct! 
 
 Should we this ornament of glory, then, 
 
 As th’ immaterial fruit of shades, neglect ? 
 
 Daniel. 
 
 1020. ELOQUENCE. Secret of 
 
 The spell is thine that reaches 
 The heart, and makes the wisest head its sport; 
 And there’s one rare, strange virtue in thy speeches, 
 The secret of their mastery—they are short. 
 
 Halleck. 
 
 14 
 
ELOQUENCE 
 
 210 
 
 EMPLOYMENT 
 
 1021. ELOQUENCE. Skilled 
 
 When with greatest art he spoke, 
 
 You’d think he talk’d like other folk.— Butter. 
 
 But when he pleased to show’t, his speech, 
 
 In loftiness of sound, was rich ; 
 
 A Babylonish dialect, 
 
 Which learned pedants much affect. 
 
 It was a party-culour’d dress 
 Of patch’d and piebald languages: 
 
 ’Twas English cut on Greek and Latin, 
 
 Like fustian heretofore on satin.— Butter. 
 
 1022. ELOQUENCE. True 
 
 False eloquence, like the prismatic glass, 
 
 Its gaudy colours spreads in every place: 
 
 The face of nature we no more survey, 
 
 All glares alike, without distinction gay :— 
 
 But true expression, like th’ unchanging sun, 
 Clears and improves whate’er it shines upon ; 
 
 It gilds all objects, but it alters none.— Pope. 
 
 Fit words attended on his weighty sense, 
 
 And mild persuasion flow’d in eloquence. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Thy words had such a melting flow, 
 
 And spoke of truth so sweetly well, 
 
 They dropp’d like heaven’s serenest snow, 
 
 And all was brightness where they fell ! 
 
 Moore. 
 
 His eloquence is classic in its style; 
 
 Not brilliant with explosive coruscations 
 Of heterogeneous thoughts at random caught, 
 
 And scatter’d like a shower of shooting stars, 
 
 That end in darkness : no ; his noble mind 
 Is clear, and full, and stately, and serene. 
 
 His earnest and undazzled eye he keeps 
 
 Fix’d on the sun of Truth, and breathes his words 
 
 As easily as eagles cleave the air ; 
 
 And never pauses till the height is won ; 
 
 And all who listen follow where he leads. 
 
 Sarah J. Hale. 
 
 1023. EMINENCE. Ills of 
 
 Oh think, my son, how wild and vain 
 Are all the dreams of earthly pride ! 
 
 Shouldst thou the height of glory gain, 
 
 What countless ills the great betide ! 
 
 Superior pomp, superior pain— 
 
 The madness of the insatiate brain, 
 
 That looks on earth with proud disdain, 
 
 And sighs for worlds beside ! 
 
 Where is the meteor flash that shone 
 O’er Ecbatane and Babylon, 
 
 And smote the Persian from his throne ? 
 
 Where is the self-exalted god ? 
 
 The hero of immortal birth— 
 
 The lord of Macedon—and earth— 
 
 Is now a vile and nameless clod. 
 
 A few short hours, and they who bow’d, 
 
 The meanest of the servile crowd, 
 
 Had spurn’d the mass of lifeless clay, 
 
 As on its kindred earth it lay, 
 
 In loathsomeness of foul decay. 
 
 Great Caesar rued the hour that gave 
 The free-born Roman for his slave ; 
 
 And who—for all his sated pride— 
 
 Would wish to die as Marius died? 
 
 Know—heroes were by Heaven design’d, 
 
 (If heroes, men like these we call,) 
 
 To rise upon their country’s fall, 
 
 To glut the grave, and scourge mankind. 
 
 And what their guilty toil repays ? 
 
 That falsehood of dissembled praise 
 Which Flattery’s glozing tongue adorns, 
 
 And Vice extols—while Virtue mourns. 
 
 Yes, e’en the fame, for which was given 
 The love of man, the bliss of Heaven— 
 
 The tale of after-times—nay, worse— 
 
 Becomes a proverb and a curse. 
 
 Oh, spurn, my son, the hero’s name, 
 
 And shun the infamy of fame ; 
 
 To thee let nobler praise be given,— 
 
 The friend of man ! the loved of Heaven ! 
 
 Dale. 
 
 1024. EMPIRE. 
 
 Extended empire, like expanded gold, 
 
 Exchanges solid strength for feeble splendour. 
 
 Johnson. 
 
 1025. EMPLOYMENT: demanded. 
 
 Man is no star, but a quick coal 
 Of mortal fire: 
 
 Who blows it not, nor doth control 
 A faint desire, 
 
 Lets his own ashes choke his soul. 
 
 • • 1 
 
 Life is a business, not good cheer; 
 
 Ever in wars. 
 
 The sun still shineth there or here, ■*' 
 
 Whereas the stars 
 Watch an advantage to appear. 
 
 Oh that I were an orange-tree, j 
 
 That busy plant ! 
 
 Then should I ever laden be, 
 
 And never want 
 
 Some fruit for Him that dresseth me. 
 
EMPLOYMENT 
 
 2 11 
 
 END 
 
 But we are still too young or old ; 
 
 The man is gone 
 Before we do our wars unfold : 
 
 So we freeze on, 
 
 Until the grave increases our cold. 
 
 Herbert. 
 
 .1026. EMPLOYMENT. Useful 
 
 ^ Live for something ; be not idle ; 
 
 Look about thee for employ ; 
 
 Sit not down to useless dreaming ; 
 
 Labour is the sweetest joy. 
 
 Folded hands are ever weary, 
 
 Selfish hearts are never gay ; 
 
 Life for thee hath many duties ; 
 
 Active be, then, while you may. 
 
 Scatter blessings in thy pathway ; 
 
 Gentle words and cheering smiles 
 Better are than gold and silver 
 With their grief-dispelling wiles. 
 
 As the pleasant sunshine falleth 
 Ever on the grateful earth, 
 
 So let sympathy and kindness 
 Gladden well the darken’d hearth. 
 
 Hearts there are oppress’d and weary; 
 
 Drop the tear of sympathy ; 
 
 Whisper words of hope and comfort; 
 
 Give, and thy reward shall be 
 Joy unto thy soul returning 
 
 From this perfect fountain-head ; 
 
 Freely as thou freely givest 
 
 Shall the grateful light be shed. 
 
 1027. EMPLOYMENT. Use of 
 
 Sea would be pools without the brushing air 
 To curl the waves ; and sure some little care 
 Should weary Nature so, to make her want repose. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 Life’s cares are comforts; such by Heaven design’d; 
 He that has none, must take them, or be wretched. 
 Cares are employment; and without employ 
 The soul is on a rack ; the rack of rest, 
 
 To souls most adverse ; action all their joy.— Young. 
 
 1028. ENCOURAGEMENT. Faith’s 
 
 Only a few more burdens must we carry 
 In heat and toil beneath the scorching sun ; 
 
 Only a little longer must we tarry— 
 
 Only a little longer ‘till Pie come.’ 
 
 Only a little more of life’s long journey 
 
 Through the world’s desert till the day is done; 
 Only a few more desert scenes of conflict, 
 
 Only a few more Marahs ‘till He come.’ 
 
 Only a little longer, thinking gladly 
 Of the uprising of the brighter Sun ; 
 
 Only a little longer, waiting sadly 
 In the fast-falling twilight ‘ till He come.’ 
 
 Only a few more billows wildly tossing, 
 
 Beating us backward from the long’d-for shore ; 
 Only a few more snares our pathway crossing— 
 Then all the trials of the way ’ll be o’er. 
 
 So let our eyes be on Him in His absence, 
 
 Seeking to serve Him in this day of grace ; 
 
 While the thought cheers us in our constant sadness, 
 Soon He will come and meet us face to face. 
 
 A. S. Ormsby. 
 
 1029. ENCOURAGEMENT. Strong 
 
 Oh for the peace which floweth as a river, 
 
 Making life’s desert places bloom and smile ! 
 
 Oh for the faith to grasp heaven’s bright ‘for ever,’ 
 Amid the shadows of earth’s ‘ little while ! 5 
 
 A little while for patient vigil-keeping, 
 
 To face the stern, to battle with the strong; 
 
 A little while to sow the seed with weeping, 
 
 Then bind the sheaves and sing the harvest-song. 
 
 A little while to wear the weeds of sadness, 
 do pace with weary steps through noisy ways ; 
 Then to pour forth the fragrant oil of gladness, 
 
 And clasp the giidle round the robe of praise. 
 
 A little while, midst shadow and illusion, 
 
 To strive by faith love’s mysteries to spell; 
 
 Then read each dark enigma’s bright solution, 
 
 Then hail sight’s verdict, ‘He doth all things 
 well.’ 
 
 A little while the earthen pitcher taking 
 To wayside brooks from far-off fountains fed ; 
 
 Then the cool lip its thirst for ever slaking 
 Beside the fulness of the fountain-head. 
 
 A little while to keep the oil from failing, 
 
 A little while faith’s flickering lamp to trim ; 
 
 And then, the Bridegroom’s coming footsteps hailing, 
 To haste to meet Him with the bridal-hymn. 
 
 And He who is Himself the Gift and Giver— 
 
 The future glory and the present smile, 
 
 With the bright promise of the glad for ever 
 Will light the shadows of the ‘little while.’ 
 
 Jane Crezudson. 
 
 1030. END. Ignorance of the 
 
 When another life is added 
 To the heaving, turbid mass ; 
 
 When another breath of being 
 Stains creation’s tarnish’d glass ; 
 
END 
 
 212 
 
 ENDEAVOUR 
 
 
 . 
 
 When the first cry, weak and piteous, 
 
 Heralds long-enduring pain, 
 
 And a soul from non-existence 
 
 Springs, that ne’er can die again ; 
 
 When the mother’s passionate welcome, 
 Sorrow-like, bursts forth in tears, 
 
 And a sire’s self-gratulation 
 
 Prophesies of future years— 
 
 It is well we cannot see 
 
 What the end will be. 
 
 1031. END OF THE WORLD. Safety at the 
 
 Stand the omnipotent decree ; 
 
 Jehovah’s will be done ! 
 
 Nature’s end we wait to see, 
 
 And hear her final groan. 
 
 Let this earth dissolve, and blend 
 
 In death the wicked and the just: 
 
 Let those ponderous orbs descend, 
 
 And grind us into dust. 
 
 When the boy, upon the threshold 
 
 Of his all-comprising home, 
 
 Puts aside the arm maternal 
 
 That unlocks him ere he roam ; 
 
 When the canvas of his vessel 
 
 Flutters to the favouring gale, 
 
 Years of solitary exile 
 
 Hid behind the sunny sail; 
 
 When his pulses beat with ardour, 
 
 And his sinews stretch’d for toil, 
 
 And a hundred bold emprises 
 
 Lure him to that eastern soil— 
 
 It is well we cannot see 
 
 What the end shall be. 
 
 Rests secure the righteous man ; 
 
 At his Redeemer’s beck 
 
 Sure to emerge and rise again, 
 
 And mount above the wreck. 
 
 Lo, the heavenly spirit towers, 
 
 Like flame, o’er nature’s funeral pyre ; 
 
 Triumphs in immortal powers, 
 
 And claps his wings of fire. 
 
 Nothing hath the just to lose 
 
 By worlds on worlds destroy’d ; 
 
 Far beneath his feet he views, 
 
 With .smiles, the flaming void ; 
 
 Sees this universe renew’d, 
 
 The grand millennial reign begun ; 
 
 Shouts with all the sons of God 
 
 When the altar of religion 
 
 Greets the expectant bridal pair, 
 
 And the vow that lasts till dying 
 
 Vibrates on the sacred air ; 
 
 When man’s lavish protestations 
 
 Doubts of after-change defy, . 
 
 Comforting the frailer spirit 
 
 Bound his servitor for aye ; 
 
 When beneath love’s silver moonbeams 
 
 Many rocks in shadow sleep, 
 
 Undiscover’d, till possession 
 
 Shows the danger of the deep— 
 
 It is well we cannot see 
 
 What the end shall be. 
 
 Around the eternal throne. 
 
 Resting in this glorious hope 
 
 To be at last restored, 
 
 Yield we now our bodies up. 
 
 To earthquake, plague, or sword : 
 
 Listening for the call divine, 
 
 The latest trumpet of the seven, 
 
 Soon our soul and dust shall join, 
 
 And both fly up to heaven. 
 
 Charles Wesley. 
 
 1032. ENDEAVOUR. Benefit of 
 
 A MOANING cry, as the world rolls by, 
 
 Whatsoever is beginning 
 
 That is wrought by human skill ; 
 
 Every daring emanation 
 
 Of the mind’s ambitious will ; 
 
 Every first impulse of passion, 
 
 Gush of love or twinge of hate ; 
 
 Every launch upon the waters 
 
 Wide-horizon’d by our fate ; 
 
 Every venture in the chances 
 
 Of life’s sad, oft desperate game, 
 
 Whatsoever be our motive, 
 
 Whatsoever be our aim— 
 
 It is well we cannot see 
 
 What the end shall be. 
 
 Through gloom of cloud and glory of sky, 
 
 Rings in my ears for ever : 
 
 And I know not what it profits a man 
 
 To plough and sow, to study and plan, 
 
 And reap the harvest never. 
 
 ‘ Abide, in truth abide,’ 
 
 Spake a low voice at my side, 
 
 ‘Abide thou, and endeavour.’ 
 
 And even though, after care and toil, 
 
 I should see my hopes from a kindly soil, 
 Though late, yet blooming ever, 
 
 Perchance the prize were not worth the pain, 
 Perchance this fretting and wasting of brain 
 
 Wins its true guerdon never. 
 
ENDURANCE 
 
 213 
 
 ENDURANCE 
 
 ‘Abide, in love abide,’ 
 
 The tender voice replied, 
 
 ‘ Abide thou, and endeavour. 5 
 
 ‘ Strive, endeavour : it profits more 
 To fight and fail, than on Time’s dull shore 
 To sit an idler ever ; 
 
 For to him who bares his arm to the strife, 
 Firm at his post in the battle of life. 
 
 The victory faileth never. 
 
 Therefore in faith abide,’ 
 
 The earnest voice still cried, 
 
 ‘Abide thou, and endeavour.’ 
 
 1033. ENDURANCE. Angel of 
 
 A strong and mailed angel, 
 
 With eyes serene and deep, 
 Unwearied and unwearying. 
 
 His patient watch doth keep. 
 
 A strong and mailed angel 
 In the midnight and the day ; 
 Walking with me at my labour. 
 Kneeling by me when I pray. 
 
 What he says no other heareth ; 
 
 None listen save the stars, 
 
 That move in arm’d battalions, 
 
 Clad with the strength of Mars. 
 
 Low are the words he speaketh— 
 ‘Young dreamer, God is great! 
 
 ’Tis glorious to suffer ! 
 
 ’Tis majesty to wait! ’ 
 
 Oh, Angel of Endurance ! 
 
 Oh, saintly and sublime ! 
 
 White are the armed legions 
 That tread the halls of Time ! 
 
 Blessed and brave, and holy ! 
 
 The olive on my heart, 
 
 Baptized with Thy baptizing, 
 
 Shall never more depart. 
 
 Oh, strong and mailed angel! 
 
 Thy trailing robes I see ! 
 
 Read other souls the lesson 
 So meekly read to me ! 
 
 Still chant the same grand anthem—• 
 The beautiful and great— 
 
 ‘ ’Tis glorious to suffer, 
 
 ’Tis majesty to wait!’ 
 
 1034. ENDURANCE. Reward of 
 
 A little longer still—patience, beloved : 
 
 A little longer still, ere heaven unroll 
 
 The glory, and the brightness, and the wonder, 
 Eternal and divine, that waits thy soul. 
 
 A little longer ere life, true, immortal 
 
 (Not this our shadowy life), will be thine own, 
 And thou shalt stand where wing’d archangels wor¬ 
 ship, 
 
 And trembling bow before the Great White Throne. 
 
 A little longer still, and heaven awaits thee, 
 
 And fills thy spirit with a great delight; 
 
 Then our pale joys will seem a dream forgotten. 
 
 Our sun a darkness, and our days a night. 
 
 A little longer, and thy heart, beloved, 
 
 Shall beat for ever with a love divine ; 
 
 And joy so pure, so mighty, so eternal, 
 
 No mortal knows and lives, shall then be thine. 
 
 A little longer yet, and angel voices 
 
 Shall sing in heavenly chant upon thine ear ; 
 Angels and saints await thee, and God needs thee : 
 Beloved, can we bid thee linger here ? 
 
 1035. ENDURANCE : the Christian’s duty. 
 
 ‘ Having done all, to stand ’—the words ring down 
 Th’ echoing corridors of time. No frown 
 Of adverse fortune when in fickle mood ; 
 
 No fear of foes that lie in wait for blood; 
 
 The venom’d sting of friendship, false and dead 
 When sorest needed ; not the crushing tread 
 Of bitter grief upon the bleeding heart; 
 
 Nor yet the great arch-fiend’s most subtle dart 
 Could from those lips the smallest tribute wring, 
 
 That conquering cried: ‘ O Death ! where is thy 
 sting ? 
 
 O Grave ! where is thy victory ? ’ He stood fast 
 Through light and storm ; finish’d his course at last ; 
 And, having kept the faith, the battle won, 
 
 Received the crown from God’s Eternal Son. 
 
 .Should I then simply stand ; my work abate ? 
 
 Sit idly down, folding my hands, and wait ; 
 
 Trusting that God will order all things right ? 
 
 Not so ! Am I not call’d upon to fight? 
 
 Something there is to do, for me, for all; 
 
 • 
 
 The Christians’ trumpets to a battle call. 
 
 And yet resistance wins. In years long fled, 
 
 When Carthage threaten’d Rome with vengeance 
 dread, 
 
 One man, when many others fought in vain, 
 
 By watchful waiting won a great campaign. 
 
 Often on some lone rock, amidst the roar 
 Of winds and waves that lash the savage shore, 
 
 With care and skill is rear’d the massive tower. 
 
 That bold defies the whirling tempest’s power. 
 
ENEMIES 
 
 214 
 
 ENGLAND 
 
 Scorning the foes that in the billows lurk, 
 
 Unawed it stands, and, standing, does its work ; 
 And, though it move not, yet amid the crash 
 Of warring elements, the welcome flash 
 Sends life and hope to thousands. 
 
 So may we, 
 
 With earnest, patient purpose, steadfastly 
 Stand and resist the billows tossing high; 
 
 And, as the lighthouse lenses multiply 
 
 The feeble lamps, so, though our light be faint, 
 
 The young disciple and the strongest saint 
 Can thousand-fold intensity impart, 
 
 Reflected from the mirror of a heart 
 Burnish’d by love for God. Nor shines in vain, 
 
 If from the deep death of the angry main 
 
 One soul be saved, though hundreds, tempest-toss’d, 
 
 Heedless of warning, sink for ever lost. 
 
 Of all sad thoughts that through the memory roll, 
 The saddest this—I might have warn’d a soul. 
 
 So should we strive to keep the mirror bright, 
 
 That o’er life’s sea may shine our feeble light ; 
 
 With childlike faith, holding our Father’s hand. 
 Always look up, and, ‘ having done all, stand.’ 
 
 R. K. Carter. 
 
 1036. ENEMIES. 
 
 Scorn no man’s love, though of a mean degree : 
 Love is a present for a mighty king; 
 
 Much less make any one thine enemy.— Herbert. 
 
 Though all things do to harm him what they can, 
 No greater en’my to himself than man. 
 
 Earl of Sterlhie. 
 
 I love Dinant, mine enemy, nay, admire him; 
 
 His valour claims it from me, and with justice : 
 
 He that could fight thus, in a cause not honest; 
 
 His sword edged with defence of right and honour, 
 Would pierce as deep as lightning, with that speed 
 too. 
 
 And kill as deadly. — Beaumont and Fletcher. 
 
 Tis, methinks, a strange dearth of enemies, 
 
 When we seek foes among ourselves. 
 
 Beaumont and Fletcher. 
 
 The fine and noble way to kill a foe, 
 
 Is not to kill him : you with kindness may 
 So change him, that he shall cease to be so, 
 
 And then he’s slain. Sigismund used to say 
 His pardons put his foes to death; for when 
 He mortified their hate, he kill’d them then. 
 
 Aleyn. 
 
 So artists melt the sullen ore of lead, 
 
 By heaping coals of fire upon its head; 
 
 From the kind warmth the metal learns to flow, 
 And pure from dross the silver runs below. 
 
 I never see a wounded enemy, 
 
 Or hear of foe slain on the battle-field, 
 
 But I bethink me of his pleasant home, 
 
 And how his mother and his sistei's watch 
 For one who never more returns. Poor souls ! 
 I’ve often wept to think how they must weep. 
 
 Mrs Hale. 
 
 1037. ENERGY. Want of 
 
 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. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 1038. ENGLAND. Fi’eedom in 
 
 A Hampden too is thine, illustrious land, 
 
 Wise, strenuous, firm, of unsubmitting soul, 
 
 Y ho stemm’d the torrent of a downward age 
 To slavery prone, and bade thee rise again 
 In all thy native pomp of freedom bold. 
 
 Bright at his call, the age of men effulged, 
 
 Of men on whom late time a kindling eye 
 Shall turn, and tyi'ants tremble while they read. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 ’Tis liberty that crowns Britannia’s Isle, 
 
 And makes her baiTen l'ocks and her bleak moun¬ 
 tains smile.— Addison. 
 
 If to Judaea we our worship trace; 
 
 If our best learning to Achaia’s race ; 
 
 If Europe owes to Rome her noblest laws; 
 
 The freedom of mankind is England’s cause. 
 
 To law, to learning, to religion, she 
 
 Adds Heaven’s own element of liberty.— Bailey. 
 
 Of old sat Fi-eedom on the heights, 
 
 The thunders breaking at her feet : 
 
 Above her shook the starry lights; 
 
 She heard the torrents meet. 
 
 There in her place she did rejoice, 
 
 Self-gather’d in her prophet-mind. 
 
 But fragments of her mighty voice 
 Came rolling on the wind. 
 
 Then stept she down through town and field 
 To mingle with the human race, 
 
 And part by part to men reveal’d 
 The fulness of her face; 
 
 Giave mother of majestic works, 
 
 From her isle-altar gazing down, 
 
 Y ho, God-like, gi'asps the triple forks, 
 
 And, King-like, wears the crowix : 
 
 Her open eyes desire the truth. 
 
 The wisdom of a thousand yeai's 
 Is in them. May perpetual youth 
 Keep dry their light from tears ; 
 
ENGLAND 
 
 215 
 
 ENJOYMENT 
 
 That her fair form may stand and shine, 
 
 Make bright our days and light our dreams. 
 Turning to scorn with lips divine 
 
 The falsehood of extremes !— Tennyson. 
 
 1039. ENGLAND. Homes of 
 
 The free, fair homes of England! 
 
 Long, long, in hut and hall, 
 
 May hearts of native proof be rear’d 
 To guard each hallow’d wall! 
 
 And green for ever be the groves, 
 
 And bright the flowery sod, 
 
 Where first the child’s glad spirit loves 
 Its country and its God !— Mrs Hemans. 
 
 1040. ENGLAND. Love of 
 
 England, with all thy faults, I love thee still— 
 
 My country ! and while yet a nook is left 
 Where English minds and manners may be found, 
 Shall be constrain’d to love thee. Though thy clime 
 Be fickle, and thy year most part deform’d 
 With dripping rains, or wither’d by a frost, 
 
 I would not yet exchange thy sullen skies, 
 
 And fields without a flower, for warmer France 
 With all her vines; nor for Ausonia’s groves 
 Of golden fruitage, and her myrtle bowers. 
 
 To shake thy senate, and, from heights sublime 
 Of patriot eloquence to flash down fire 
 Upon thy foes, was never meant my task : 
 
 But I can feel thy fortunes, and partake 
 Thy joys and sorrows, with as true a heart 
 As any thunderer there. And I can feel 
 Thy follies too ; and with a just disdain 
 Frown at effeminates, whose very looks 
 Reflect dishonour on the land I love.— Cowper. 
 
 England ! my country, great and free ! 
 
 Heart of the world, I leap to thee!—. Bailey. 
 
 1041. ENGLAND. Mission of 
 
 Whether this portion of the world were rent, 
 
 By the rude ocean, from the continent, 
 
 Or thus created ; it was sure design’d 
 
 To be the sacred refuge of mankind.— Waller. 
 
 1042. ENGLAND. Position of 
 
 I’ THE world’s volume 
 Our Britain seems as of it, but not in it; 
 
 In a great pool, a swan’s nest.—Shakespeare. 
 
 This scepter’d isle, 
 
 This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, 
 
 This other Eden, demi-Paradise, 
 
 This fortress, built by Nature for herself. 
 
 Against infection, and the hand of war ; 
 
 This happy breed of men, this little world, 
 This precious stone set in the silver sea, 
 
 Which serves it in the office of a wall; 
 
 Or as a moat defensive to a house, 
 
 Against the envy of less happier lands. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 1043. ENGLAND. Safety of 
 
 Come the three corners of the world in arms, 
 
 And we shall shock them ; nought shall make us rue, 
 If England to itself do rest but true.— Shakespeare. 
 
 England is safe, if true within itself. 
 
 ’Tis better using France, than trusting France. 
 
 Let us be back’d with God and with the seas, 
 Which He hath given for fence impregnable. 
 
 And with their helps only defend ourselves ; 
 
 In them, and in ourselves, our safety lies. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 England never did (nor never shall) 
 
 Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, 
 
 But when it first did help to wound itself. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Britain, the queen of isles, our fair possession 
 Secured by nature, laughs at foreign force; 
 
 Her ships her bulwark, and the sea .her dike, 
 Sees plenty in her lap, and braves the world. 
 
 Havard. 
 
 Island of bliss ! amid the subject seas, 
 
 That thunder round thy rocky coast, set up, 
 
 At once, the wonder, terror, and delight 
 Of distant nations : Whose remotest shores 
 Can soon be shaken by thy naval arm ; 
 
 Not to be shook thyself, but all assaults 
 Baffling, as thy hoar cliffs the loud sea-wave. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 1044. ENGLISH NATION. 
 
 The English nation, like the sea it governs, 
 
 Is bold and turbulent and easily moved; 
 
 And always beats against the shore that bounds it. 
 
 Crown. 
 
 1045. ENJOYMENT. Condition of 
 
 It was, we own, the subject of much debate, 
 
 And worthy men stood on opposing sides, 
 
 Whether the cup of mortal life had more 
 Of sour or sweet. Vain question this, when ask’d 
 In general terms, and worthy to be left 
 Unsolved. If most was sour—the drinker, not 
 The cup, we blame. Each in himself the means 
 Possess’d to turn the bitter sweet, the sweet 
 To bitter; hence from out the self-same fount, 
 
 One nectar drank, another draughts of gall. 
 
ENJOYMENT 
 
 216 
 
 ENNUI 
 
 Hence from the self-same quarter of the sky, 
 
 One saw ten thousand angels look, and smile ; 
 Another saw as many demons frown. 
 
 One discord heard, where harmony inclined 
 Another’s ear. The sweet was in the taste; 
 
 The beauty in the eye ; and in the ear 
 The melody; and in the man—for God 
 Necessity of sinning laid on none— 
 
 To form the taste, to purify the eye, 
 
 And tune the ear, that all he tasted, saw. 
 
 Or heard, might be harmonious, sweet, and fair. 
 Who would, might groan; who would, might sing 
 for joy.— Pollok. 
 
 1046. ENJOYMENT. Lost 
 
 O world, O life, O time ! 
 
 On whose last steps I climb. 
 
 Trembling at that where I had stood before : 
 When will return the glory of your prime ? 
 
 No more ; oh, never more ! 
 
 Out of the day and night 
 A joy has taken flight: 
 
 Fresh spring, and summer, and winter hoar 
 Move my faint heart with grief, but with delight 
 No more—oh, never more !— Shelley. 
 
 1047. ENJOYMENT. Pursuit of 
 
 We all are children in our strife to seize 
 Each petty pleasure, as it lures the sight; 
 
 And like the tall tree, swaying in the breeze, 
 
 Our lofty wishes stoop their tow’ring flight. 
 
 Till, when the prize is won, it seems no more 
 Than gather’d shell from ocean’s countless store, 
 And ever those who would enjoyment gain, 
 
 Must find it in the purpose they pursue. 
 
 Mrs Hale. 
 
 1048. ENNUI. Course of 
 
 It is the constant revolution, stale 
 And tasteless, of the same repeated joys, 
 
 That palls and satiates, and makes languid life 
 A pedler’s pack, that bows the bearer down. 
 
 Health suffers, and the spirits ebb ; the heart 
 Recoils from its own choice—at the full feast 
 Is famish’d—finds no music in the song, 
 
 No smartness in the jest; and wonders why. 
 
 Yet thousands still desire to journey on, 
 
 Though halt, and weary of the path they tread. 
 
 The paralytic, who can hold her cards, 
 
 But cannot play them, borrows a friend’s hand 
 To deal and shuffle, to divide and sort 
 Her mingled suits and sequences ; and sits, 
 
 Spectatrix both and spectacle, a sad 
 And silent cipher, while her proxy plays. 
 
 Others are dragg’d into the crowded room 
 Between supporters ; and, once seated, sit, 
 
 Through downright inability to rise. 
 
 Till the stout bearers lift the corpse again. 
 
 These speak a loud memento. Yet e’en these 
 Themselves love life, and cling to a twig. 
 
 They love it, and yet loathe it; fear to die, 
 
 Yet scorn the purposes for which they live. 
 
 Then wherefore not renounce them ? No—the dread. 
 The slavish dread of solitude, that breeds 
 Reflection and remorse, the fear of shame, 
 
 And their inveterate habits, all forbid.— Cowper. 
 
 1049. ENNUI: its causes. 
 
 Alas ! I have nor hope nor health, 
 
 Nor peace within nor calm around, 
 
 Nor that content surpassing wealth 
 
 The sage in meditation found.— Shelley. 
 
 Social life is fill’d 
 
 With doubts and vain aspirings ; solitude, 
 
 When the imagination is dethroned, 
 
 Is turn’d to weariness and ennui. 
 
 Miss Landon. 
 
 I am tired of looking on what is ; 
 
 One might as well see beauty never more, 
 
 As look upon it with an empty eye. 
 
 I would this world were over. I am tired. 
 
 Bailey. 
 
 1050. ENNUI. Question for 
 
 Ah ! how unjust to nature and himself, 
 
 Is thoughtless, thankless, inconsistent man ! 
 
 Like children babbling nonsense in their sports, 
 
 We censure nature for a span too short : 
 
 That span too short, we tax as tedious too; 
 
 Torture invention, all expedients tire, 
 
 To lash the lingering moments into speed, 
 
 And whirl us (happy riddance !) from ourselves. 
 
 Art, brainless art! our furious charioteer 
 (For nature’s voice, unstifled, would recall), 
 
 Drives headlong towards the precipice of death ! 
 
 Death, most our dread ; death, thus more dreadful 
 made: 
 
 Oh, what a riddle of absurdity ! 
 
 Leisure is pain ; takes off our chariot-wheels : 
 
 How heavily we drag the load of life ! 
 
 Bless’d leisure is our curse: like that of Cain, 
 
 It makes us wander ; wander earth around 
 To fly that tyrant, thought. As Atlas groan’d 
 The world beneath, we groan beneath an hour. 
 
 We cry for mercy to the next amusement: 
 
 The next amusement mortgages our fields ; 
 
 Slight inconvenience ! prisons hardly frown, 
 
ENTHUSIASM 
 
 217 
 
 ENVY 
 
 From hateful time if prisons set us free. 
 
 \ et when Death kindly tenders us relief, 
 
 We call him cruel; years to moments shrink, 
 
 Ages to years. The telescope is turn’d. 
 
 To man’s false optics (from his folly false) 
 
 Time, in advance, behind him hides his wings, 
 And seems to creep, decrepit with his age ; 
 
 Behold him when pass’d by; what then is seen 
 But his broad pinions, swifter than the winds ? 
 
 And all mankind, in contradiction strong, 
 
 Rueful, aghast! cry out on his career. 
 
 O ye Lorenzos of our age ! who deem 
 One moment unamused a misery 
 Not made for feeble man ! who call aloud 
 For every bawble drivell’d o’er by sense ; 
 
 For rattles and conceits of every cast, 
 
 For change of follies and relays of joy, 
 
 To drag you patient through the tedious length 
 Of a short winter’s day—say, sages ! say, 
 
 Wit’s oracles! say, dreamers of gay dreams ! 
 
 How will you weather an eternal night 
 When such expedients fail?— Young. 
 
 1051. ENTHUSIASM. 
 
 No wild enthusiast ever yet could rest, 
 
 Till half mankind were like himself possess’d. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 I gaze upon the thousand stars 
 That fill the midnight sky ; 
 
 And wish, so passionately wish, 
 
 A light like theirs on high. 
 
 I have such eagerness of hope 
 To benefit my kind ; 
 
 I feel as if immortal power 
 
 Were given to my mind.— Miss London, 
 
 1052. ENVY : a kind of praise. 
 
 Fools may our scorn, not envy, raise: 
 
 For envy is a kind of praise.— Gay. 
 
 Envy will merit, as its shade, pursue ; 
 
 But, like a shadow, proves the substance true. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Slander’d in vain, enjoy the spleen of foes ; 
 
 Let these from envy hate—from interest those ! 
 Guilt, like the first, your gratitude requires, 
 Since none can envy till he first admires ; 
 
 And nature tells the last his crime is none 
 Who to your interest but prefers his own. 
 
 Cumberland. 
 
 1053. ENVY: assails only the fortunate. 
 
 Envy is but the smoke of low estate, 
 Ascending still against the fortunate. — Brooke. 
 
 1054. ENVY. Causes of 
 
 For the true condition of envy, is, 
 
 Dolor alienee felicitatis ; to have 
 Our eyes continually fix’d upon another 
 Man’s prosperity, that is, his chief happiness, 
 And to grieve at that.— Jonson. 
 
 With that malignant envy, which turns pale, 
 And sickens, even if a friend prevail, 
 
 Which merit and success pursues with hate, 
 And damns the worth it cannot imitate. 
 
 Churchill. 
 
 Base envy withers at another’s joy, 
 
 And hates that excellence it cannot reach. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 What made the man of envy what he was, 
 
 Was worth in others, vileness in himself; 
 
 A lust of praise, with undeserving deeds, 
 
 And conscious poverty of soul: and still 
 It was his earnest work and daily toil, 
 
 With lying tongue, to make the noble seem 
 Mean as himself. On Fame’s high hill he saw 
 The laurel spread its everlasting green, 
 
 And wish’d to climb; but felt his knees too weak: 
 
 And stood below, unhappy, laying hands 
 
 Upon the strong, ascending gloriously 
 
 The steps of honour, bent to draw them back; 
 
 Involving oft the brightness of their path 
 
 In mists his breath had raised. Whene’er he heard, 
 
 As oft he did, of joy and happiness, 
 
 And great prosperity, and rising worth, 
 
 ’Twas like a wave of wormwood o’er his soul 
 Rolling its bitterness. His joy was woe: 
 
 The woe of others: when, from wealth to want, 
 From praises to reproach, from peace to strife, 
 
 From mirth to tears, he saw a brother fall, 
 
 Or virtue make a slip—his dreams were sweet. 
 
 Pollok. 
 
 1055. ENVY: concealed. 
 
 Cold words that hide the envious thoughts. 
 
 1056. ENVY. Cure for 
 
 Willis. 
 
 Canst thou discern another’s mind? 
 
 What is it you envy ? Envy’s blind. 
 
 Tell Envy, when she would annoy, 
 
 That thousands want what you enjoy.— Gay. 
 
 i° 57 - ENVY: degrading. 
 
 Envy not greatness ; for thou mak’st thereby 
 Thyself the worse ; and so the distance greater. 
 Be not thine own worm : yet such jealousy 
 As hurts not others but makes thee better. 
 
 Is a good spur.— Herbert. 
 
ENVY 
 
 218 
 
 EQUALITY 
 
 1058. ENVY: destructive. 
 
 For everything contains within itself 
 The seeds and sources of its own corruption : 
 The cankering rust corrodes the brightest steel; 
 The moth frets out your garment, and the worm 
 Eats its slow way into the solid oak: 
 
 But Envy, of all evil things the worst, 
 
 The same to-day, to-morrow, and for ever, 
 
 Saps and consumes the heart in which it works. 
 
 Cumberland. 
 
 1059. ENVY: disclaimed. 
 
 I envy not their hap 
 Whom favour doth advance ; 
 
 I take no pleasure in their pain 
 That have less happy chance. 
 
 To rise by others’ fall 
 I deem a losing gain ; 
 
 All states with others’ ruin built. 
 
 To ruin run amain.— South-well. 
 
 1060. ENVY. None exempt from 
 
 My heart laments that virtue cannot live 
 Out of the teeth of emulation.— Shakespeare. 
 
 For envy doth invade 
 Works breathing to eternity, and cast 
 Upon the fairest piece the greatest shade. 
 
 Aleyn. 
 
 1061. ENVY. Pleasure of 
 
 Yet much is talk’d of bliss ; it is the art 
 Of such as have the world in their possession, 
 
 1 o give it a good name, that fools may envy ; 
 
 For envy to small minds is flattery.— Young. 
 
 1062. ENVY. Power of 
 
 Envy’s a sharper spur than pay, 
 
 And, unprovoked, ’twill court the fray.— Gay. 
 
 1063. EPITAPH. A Lady’s 
 
 Wouldst thou hear what man can say 
 In a little ?—reader, stay ! 
 
 Underneath this stone doth lie 
 As much beauty as could die, 
 
 Which in life did harbour give 
 To more virtue than doth live. 
 
 If at all she had a fault. 
 
 Leave it buried in this vault. 
 
 One name was Elizabeth— 
 d h’ other, let it sleep with death : 
 
 Fitter, where it died to t Ji, 
 
 Than that it lived at all. Farewell.— Jonson 
 
 1064. EQUALITY. Claim of 
 
 I CANNOT coldly pass him by, 
 
 Stript, wounded, left by thieves half-dead ; 
 Nor see an infant Lazarus lie 
 At rich men’s gates, imploring bread. 
 
 A frame as sensitive as mine, 
 
 Limbs moulded in a kindred form, 
 
 A soul degraded, yet divine, 
 
 Endear to me my brother-worm. 
 
 He was my equal at his birth, 
 
 A naked, helpless, weeping child: 
 
 And such are born to thrones on earth, 
 
 On such hath every mother smiled. 
 
 My equal he will be again, 
 
 Down in that cold oblivious gloom, 
 
 Where all the prostrate ranks of men 
 Crowd, without fellowship, the tomb. 
 
 My equal in the judgment-day, 
 
 He shall stand up before the throne, 
 
 When every veil is rent away. 
 
 And good and evil only known. 
 
 And is he not mine equal now ? 
 
 Am I less fall’n from God and truth, 
 Though ‘ Wretch ’ be written on his brow. 
 And leprosy consume his youth ? 
 
 Montgomery. 
 
 1065. EQUALITY. Human 
 
 Are we not brothers ? 
 
 So man and man should be ; 
 
 But clay and clay differs in dignity, 
 Whose dust is both alike.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Consider, man, weigh well thy frame, 
 
 The king, the beggar are the same ; 
 
 Dust form’d us all. Each breathes his day. 
 Then sinks into his native clay . — Gay. 
 
 1066. EQUALITY : in emotions. 
 
 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.— Holmes. 
 
 1067. EQUALITY: in freedom. 
 
 Y HO can in reason then or right assume 
 Monarchy over such as live by right 
 His equals, if in power or splendour less, 
 
 In freedom equal?— Milton. 
 
EQUANIMITY 
 
 219 
 
 ERROR 
 
 1068. EQUANIMITY. 
 
 With equal mind what happens let us bear; 
 
 Nor joy nor grieve too much for things beyond our 
 care.— Dry den. 
 
 He laughs at all the vulgar cares and fears, 
 
 At their vain triumphs, and their vainer tears ; 
 
 An equal temper in his mind he found 
 
 When Fortune flatter’d him, and when she frown’d. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 Your steady soul preserves her frame 
 In good and evil times the same.— Swift. 
 
 1069. ERRING. Hope for the 
 
 Nay, deem not thus,—no earth-born will 
 Could ever trace a faultless line ; 
 
 Our truest steps are human still; 
 
 To walk unswerving were divine ! 
 
 Truants from love, we dream of wrath ; 
 
 Oh, rather let us trust the more ! 
 
 Through all the wanderings of the path, 
 
 We still can see our Father’s door !— Holmes. 
 
 1070. ERROR. Avoid 
 
 You have already gone too far, 
 
 When people once are in the wrong, 
 
 Each line they add is much too long. 
 
 Who fastest walks, but walks astray, 
 
 Is only farthest from his way.— Prior. 
 
 1071. ERROR. Flight of 
 
 For look again on the past years ; behold, 
 
 How like the nightmare’s dreams have flown away 
 Horrible in forms of worship, that, of old, 
 
 Held o’er the shuddering realms unquestion’d 
 sway. 
 
 See crimes, that fear’d not once the eye of day, 
 Rooted from men, without a name or place: 
 
 See nations blotted out from earth, to pay 
 The forfeit of deep guilt; with glad embrace 
 The fair disburden’d lands welcome a nobler race. 
 
 Thus error’s monstrous shapes from earth are driven ; 
 They fade, they fly — but Truth survives their 
 flight; 
 
 Earth has no shades to quench that beam of heaven ; 
 Each ray that shone in early time, to light 
 The faltering footstep in the path of right, 
 
 Each gleam of clearer brightness shed to aid 
 In man’s maturer days his bolder sight, 
 
 All blended, like the rainbow’s radiant braid, 
 
 Pour yet, and still shall pour, the blaze that cannot 
 fade.— Bryant. 
 
 1072. ERROR: flourishes in every soil. 
 
 Error is a hardy plant ; it flourisheth in every soil; 
 In the heart of the wise and good, alike with the 
 wicked and foolish: 
 
 For there h no error so crooked, but it hath in it 
 some lines of truth : 
 
 Nor is any poison so deadly, that it serveth not some 
 wholesome use: 
 
 And the just man, enamour’d of the right, is blinded 
 by the speciousness of wrong, 
 
 And the prudent, perceiving an advantage, is con¬ 
 tent to overlook the harm. 
 
 On all things created remaineth the half-effaced sig¬ 
 nature of God, 
 
 Somewhat of fair and good, though blotted by the 
 finger of corruption: 
 
 And if enor cometh in like a flood, it mixeth with 
 the streams of truth ; 
 
 And the adversary loveth to have it so, for thereby 
 many are decoy’d.— Tup per. 
 
 1073. ERROR. Perversity of 
 
 First appetite enlists him, truth-sworn foe ; 
 
 Then obstinate self-will confirms him so. 
 
 Tell him he wanders; that his error leads 
 To fatal ills ; that, though the path he treads 
 Be flowery, and he sees no cause of fear, 
 
 Death and the pains of hell attend him there: 
 
 In vain ; the slave of arrogance and pride, 
 
 He has no hearing on the prudent side. 
 
 His still refuted quirks he still repeats ; 
 
 New raised objections with new quibbles meets. 
 Till, sinking in the quicksand he defends, 
 
 He dies disputing, and the contest ends— 
 
 But not the mischiefs ; they, still left behind, 
 
 Like thistle-seeds, are sown by every wind. 
 
 Thus men go wrong with an ingenious skill, 
 
 Bend the straight rule to their own crooked will ; 
 And with a clear and shining lamp supplied, 
 
 First put it out, then take it for a guide. 
 
 Halting on crutches of unequal size, 
 
 One leg by truth supported, one by lies, 
 
 They sidle to the goal with awkward pace, 
 
 Secure of nothing—but to lose the race.— Cowper. 
 
 1074. ERROR. Progress of 
 
 Pleasure admitted in undue degree 
 Enslaves the will,—nor leaves the judgment free. 
 
 ’Tis not alone the grape’s enticing juice 
 Unnerves the moral powers, and mars their use ; 
 Ambition, avarice, and the lust of fame, 
 
 And woman, lovely woman, does the same. 
 
 The heart, surrender’d to the ruling power 
 Of some ungovern’d passion every hour, 
 
ERROR 
 
 220 
 
 ETERNITY 
 
 Finds by degrees the truths that once bore sway, 
 And all their deep impressions, wear away ; 
 
 So coin grows smooth, in traffic current pass’d ; 
 
 Till Caesar’s image is effaced at last. 
 
 The breach, though small at first, soon opening wide, 
 In rushes folly with a full-moon tide. 
 
 Then welcome errors, of whatever size, 
 
 To justify it by a thousand lies. 
 
 As creeping ivy clings to wood or stone. 
 
 And hides the ruin that it feeds upon; 
 
 So sophistry cleaves close to and protects 
 Sin’s rotten trunk, concealing its defects. 
 
 Mortals, whose pleasures are their only care, 
 
 First wish to be imposed on, and then are. 
 
 And, lest the fulsome artifice should fail, 
 
 Themselves will hide its coarseness with a veil. 
 
 Not more industrious are the just and true 
 To give to virtue what is virtue’s due, 
 
 The praise of wisdom, comeliness, and worth, 
 
 And call her charms to public notice forth,— 
 
 Than vice’s mean and disingenuous race 
 To hide the shocking features of her face. 
 
 Her form with dress and lotion they repair; 
 
 Then kiss their idol, and pronounce her fair. 
 
 Cow per. 
 
 Or swift as couriers homeward go, 
 Or ship to port, or shaft from bow. 
 Ponder, O man, eternity ! 
 
 Eternity ! eternity ! 
 
 How long art thou, eternity ! 
 For even as in a perfect sphere 
 End nor beginning can appear, 
 
 Even so, eternity, in thee, 
 
 Entrance nor exit can there be. 
 Ponder, O man, eternity ! 
 
 Eternity! eternity ! 
 
 How long art thou, eternity ! 
 
 A circle infinite art thou, 
 
 Thy centre an eternal Now : 
 
 Never we name thy outward bound. 
 For never end therein is found. 
 Ponder, O man, eternity ! 
 
 Eternity ! eternity ! 
 
 How long art thou, eternity 
 As long as God is God, so long 
 Endure the pains of hell and wrong, 
 So long the joys of heaven remain : 
 O lasting joy ! O lasting pain ! 
 
 1075. ERROR. Proneness of man to 
 
 Swifter than feather’d arrow in the wind, 
 
 Than winged vessel on the yielding tide, 
 
 Than river shooting down the mountain side, 
 
 Than foot o’er champaign of the slender hind, 
 
 To error’s flowery vale, the headlong mind 
 Is prone, without a curb, to fly aside ; 
 
 Neither by dangers of the path untried, 
 
 Nor roughest road, nor highest Alp confined. 
 
 But if the way of truth upon the right 
 
 It follows, like slow worm, or bird unfledged, 
 
 At every twig it checks, and stone, and rill. 
 Great Guide ! make strong my pinions for the flight! 
 In that true course ; be every other hedged, 
 
 And lift and bring me to Thy holy hill! 
 
 From the Italian of Tarsia. 
 
 1076. ERRORS : should be acknowledged. 
 
 Some positive, persisting fools we know, 
 
 Who, if once wrong, will need be always so ; 
 
 But you with pleasure own your errors past, 
 
 And make each day a critique on the last.— Pope. 
 
 1077. ETERNITY. Duration of 
 
 Eternity ! eternity! 
 
 How long art thou, eternity! 
 
 And yet to thee time hastes away, 
 
 Like as the war-horse to the fray, 
 
 Ponder, O man, eternity !— Wulffer. 
 
 1078. ETERNITY: everlasting. 
 
 What’s time, when on eternity we think? 
 
 A thousand ages in that sea must sink : 
 Time’s nothing but a word ; a million 
 Is full as far from infinite as one.— Denham. 
 
 Oh ! who can strive 
 
 To comprehend the vast, the awful truth, 
 
 Of the eternity that hath gone by, 
 
 And not recoil from the dismaying sense 
 Of human impotence ? The life of man 
 Is summ’d in birthdays and in sepulchres : 
 
 But the eternal God had no beginning ; 
 
 He hath no end. Time had been with Him 
 For everlasting, ere the daedal world 
 Roseffrom the gulf in loveliness. Like Him, 
 
 It knew no source ; like Him, ’twas uncreate.. 
 What is it, then ? The past eternity! 
 
 We comprehend a future without end ; 
 
 W r e feel it possible that even yon sun 
 May roll for ever : but we shrink amazed— 
 
 We stand aghast, when we reflect that time 
 Knew no commencement—that, heap age on age 
 And million upon million, without end, 
 
 And we shall never span the void of days 
 That were and are not but in retrospect. 
 
 The Past is an unfathomable depth, 
 
 Beyond the span of thought ; ’tis an elapse 
 
ETERNITY 
 
 221 
 
 ETERNITY 
 
 Which hath no mensuration, but hath been 
 For ever and for ever. 
 
 Now, look on man 
 
 Myriads of ages hence. Hath time elapsed ? 
 
 Is he not standing in the self-same place 
 Where once he stood ? The same eternity 
 Hath gone before him, and is yet to come ; 
 
 His past is not of longer span than ours, 
 
 Though myriads of ages intervened ; 
 
 For who can add to what has neither sum, 
 
 Nor bound, nor source, nor estimate, nor end? 
 
 Oh, , who can compass the Almighty mind? 
 
 Oh, who unlock the secrets of the High ? 
 
 In speculations of an altitude 
 
 Sublime as this, our reason stands confused, 
 
 Foolish, and insignificant, and mean. 
 
 Who can apply the futile argument 
 Of finite beings to infinity ? 
 
 He might as well compress the universe 
 Into the hollow compass of a gourd, 
 
 Scoop’d out by human art; or bid the whale 
 Drink up the sea it swims in !— Henry Kirke White. 
 
 1079. ETERNITY : feared. 
 
 Sure there is none but fears a future state ; 
 
 And when the most obdurate swear they do not, 
 Their trembling hearts belie their boasting tongues. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 1080. ETERNITY. Hastening to 
 
 My soul, amid this stormy world, 
 
 Is like some flutter’d dove, 
 
 And fain would be as swift of wing 
 To flee to Him I love. 
 
 The cords that bound my heart to earth 
 Are broken by His hand ; 
 
 Before His cross I found myself 
 A stranger in the land. 
 
 My heart is with Him on His throne, 
 
 And ill can brook delay, 
 
 Each moment listening for the voice, 
 
 ‘ Rise up, and come away ! * 
 
 With hope deferr’d, oft sick and faint, 
 
 ‘ Why tarries He ?’ I cry ; 
 
 Let not the Saviour chide my haste, 
 
 For then would I reply : 
 
 * May not an exile, Lord, desire 
 His own sweet land to see ? 
 
 May not a captive seek release, 
 
 A prisoner, to be free ? 
 
 A child, when far away, may long 
 For home and kindred dear ; 
 
 And she that waits her absent lord, 
 
 May sigh till he appear. 
 
 ‘ I would, my Lord and Saviour, know 
 That which no measure knows! 
 
 Would search the mystery of Thy love, 
 
 The depths of all Thy woes ! 
 
 I fain would strike my harp divine, 
 
 Before the Father’s throne, 
 
 There cast my crown of Righteousness, 
 
 And sing what grace has done ! ’ 
 
 R. C. Chapman. 
 
 1081. ETERNITY: incomprehensible. 
 
 We strive with earthly imaginings to reach and un¬ 
 derstand 
 
 The wondrous and the fearful things of an eternal 
 land. 
 
 We talk of amaranthine bowers and living groves of 
 palm, 
 
 Of starry crowns and fadeless flowers and skies for 
 ever calm. 
 
 We talk of wings and raiment white, and pillar’d 
 thrones of gold, 
 
 And cities built with jewels bright, far in the heavens, 
 of old. 
 
 Are these things more than fancy’s play ? are they, 
 in very deed, 
 
 The free soul’s guerdon, far away, its everlasting 
 meed ? 
 
 Or shall the spirit, in its flight beyond the stars sub¬ 
 lime, 
 
 See nothing but the radiance white of never-ending 
 time ? 
 
 Shall things material change again, and wholly be 
 forgot ? 
 
 And round us only God remain, a universe of 
 thought ? 
 
 We know not well—we cannot know : our reason’s 
 glimmering light 
 
 Can nothing but the darkness show of our surround¬ 
 ing night. 
 
 But soon the doubt and toil and strife of earth shall 
 all be done, 
 
 And knowledge of our endless life be in a moment 
 won.— Curry. 
 
 1082. ETERNITY. Launching into 
 
 It was a brave attempt, adventurous he 
 
 Who in the first ship broke the unknown sea, 
 
 And leaving his dear native shores behind, 
 
 Trusted his life to the licentious wind. 
 
 I see the surging brine ; the tempest raves: 
 
 He on a pine-plank rides across the waves, 
 
 Exulting on the edge of thousand gaping graves : 
 
ETERNITY 
 
 222 
 
 EVANESCENT 
 
 He steers the winged boat, and shifts the sails, 
 Conquers the flood, and manages the gales. 
 
 Such is the soul that leaves his mortal land, 
 Fearless when the great Master gives command. 
 Death is the storm ; she smiles to hear it roar, 
 
 And bids the tempest waft her from the shore ; 
 Then with a skilful helm she sweeps the seas, 
 
 And manages the raging storm with ease. 
 
 Her faith can govern death : she spreads her wings 
 Wide to the wind, and as she sails she sings, 
 
 And loses by degrees the sight of mortal things. 
 
 As the shores lessen, so her joys arise, 
 
 The waves roll gentler, and the tempest dies : 
 
 Now vast eternity fills all her sight; 
 
 She floats on the broad deep with infinite delight, 
 The seas for ever calm, the skies for ever bright. 
 
 Watts. 
 
 1083. ETERNITY. Living for 
 
 So live that when the mighty caravan, 
 
 Which halts one night-time in the vale of death, 
 Shall strike its white tents for the morning march, 
 Thou shalt mount onward to the eternal hills, 
 
 Thy foot unwearied, and thy strength renew’d 
 Like the strong eagle’s, for the upward flight. 
 
 1084. ETERNITY. Premonitions of 
 
 And as the better spirit, when she doth bear 
 A scorn of death, doth show she cannot die ; 
 
 So when the wicked soul death’s face doth fear, 
 Even then she proves her own eternity. 
 
 Davies. 
 
 ’Tis the Divinity that stirs within us, 
 
 ’Tis Heaven itself that points out an hereafter, 
 And intimates eternity to man.— Addison. 
 
 1085. ETERNITY. Responsibility for 
 
 Eternity ! Eternity ! 
 
 That boundless, soundless, tideless sea, 
 
 Of mysteries the mystery, 
 
 What is eternity to me ? 
 
 Infinite bliss or misery, 
 
 Woe past, woe present, woe to be; 
 
 The fulness of felicity ; 
 
 These are eternity to me. 
 
 Two voices from eternity ! 
 
 A voice from heaven comes down to me, 
 
 A voice from hell breaks dolefully, 
 
 ‘ Life, death, O man ! are offer’d thee.’ 
 
 The abyss is moved, even wrath cries ‘ Flee ! ’ 
 The height expands, and love cries, ‘ See 
 
 What God hath here prepared for thee; 
 
 Choose thou thine own eternity ! ’ 
 
 Montgomery. 
 
 1086. ETERNITY. Sailing to 
 
 Eternity’s vast ocean lies before thee. 
 
 Give thy mind sea-room ; keep it wide of earth, 
 
 That rock of souls immortal; cut thy cord ; 
 
 Weigh anchor ; spread thy sails ; call every wind; 
 Eye thy great Pole-star; make the land of life. 
 
 Young. 
 
 1087. ETERNITY: unknown. 
 
 Eternity ! thou pleasing, dreadful thought! 
 Through what variety of untried being, 
 
 I hrough what new scenes and changes must we pass? 
 The wide, th’ unbounded prospect lies before me ; 
 But shadows, clouds, and darkness rest upon it. 
 
 Addison. 
 
 1088. EVANESCENCE. Emblem of 
 
 See yonder cloud along the west 
 In gay, fantastic splendour dress’d ; 
 
 Fancy’s bright visions charm the eye, 
 
 Sweet fairy bowers in prospect lie, 
 
 And blooming fields smile from the sky, 
 Deck’d in the hues of even ; 
 
 But short its evanescent stay, 
 
 Its brilliant masses fade away, 
 
 The breeze floats off its visions gay, 
 
 And clears the face of heaven. 
 
 Thus to fond man does Life’s fair scene 
 Delusive spread its cheerful green ; 
 
 Before his path shine pleasure’s bowers, 
 
 Each smiling field seems drest in flowers, 
 Hope leads him on, and shows his hours 
 For peace and pleasure given. 
 
 But one by one his hopes decay, 
 
 Each flattering vision fades away, 
 
 Each cheering scene charms to betray, 
 
 And nought remains but heaven. 
 
 Esther C. Beecher. 
 
 1089. EVANESCENT. Clinging to the 
 
 All that’s bright must fade— 
 
 The brightest still the fleetest; 
 
 All that’s sweet was made 
 But to be lost when sweetest. 
 
 Stars that shine and fall; 
 
 1 he flower that drops in springing; 
 
 These, alas ! are types of all 
 
 To which our hearts are clinging. 
 
 Who would seek or prize 
 Delights that end in aching? 
 
EVENING 
 
 223 
 
 EVENING 
 
 Who would trust to ties 
 
 That every hour are breaking ? 
 
 Better far to be 
 
 In utter darkness lying, 
 
 Than to be bless’d with light, and see 
 That light for ever flying.— Moore. 
 
 1090. EVENING. Duty for 
 
 Morn is the time to act, noon to endure ; 
 
 But oh ! if thou would’st keep thy spirit pure, 
 Turn from the beaten path, by worldlings trod, 
 
 Go forth at eventide, in heart to walk with God. 
 
 Mrs Embury. 
 
 1091. EVENING. Moral of 
 
 Behold the sun, that seem’d but now 
 Enthroned overhead, 
 
 Beginneth to decline below 
 The globe whereon we tread ; 
 
 And he, whom yet we look upon 
 With comfort and delight, 
 
 Will quite depart from hence anon, 
 
 And leave us to the night. 
 
 Thus time, unheeded, steals away 
 The life which nature gave ; 
 
 Thus are our bodies every day 
 Declining to the grave : 
 
 Thus from us all our pleasures fly 
 Whereon we set our heart; 
 
 And when the night of death draws nigh, 
 Thus will they all depart. 
 
 Lord ! though the sun forsake our sight, * 
 And mortal hopes are vain ; 
 
 Let still Thine everlasting light 
 Within our souls remain ! 
 
 And in the nights of our distress 
 Vouchsafe those rays divine, 
 
 Which from the Sun of Righteousness 
 For ever brightly shine !— George Wither. 
 
 1092. EVENING. Prayer at 
 
 Not on a prayerless bed, not on a prayerless bed 
 Compose the weary limbs to rest; 
 
 For they alone are blest 
 With balmy sleep 
 Whom angels keep ; 
 
 Nor, though by care oppress’d, 
 
 Or anxious sorrow, 
 
 Or thought in many a coil perplex’d 
 For coming morrow, 
 
 Lay not thy head 
 On prayerless bed. 
 
 For who can tell, when sleep thine eyes shall close, 
 That earthly cares and woes 
 To thee may e’er return? 
 
 Arouse, my soul! 
 
 Slumber control, 
 
 And let thy lamp burn brightly; 
 
 So shall thine eyes discern 
 Things pure and sightly ; 
 
 Taught by the Spirit, learn 
 Never on prayerless bed 
 To lay thine unblest head. 
 
 Hast thou no pining want, or wish, or care 
 That calls for holy prayer ? 
 
 Has thy day been so bright 
 That in its flight 
 There is no trace of sorrow ? 
 
 And art thou sure to-morrow 
 Will be like this, and more 
 Abundant! Dost thou yet lay up thy store, 
 
 And still make plans for more ? 
 
 Thou fool! this very night 
 Thy soul may wing its flight. 
 
 Hast thou no being than thyself more dear, 
 
 That ploughs the ocean deep, 
 
 And when storms sweep 
 The wintry, lowering sky, 
 
 For whom thou wakest and weepest ? 
 
 Oh, when thy pangs are deepest 
 Seek then the covenant ark of prayer ! 
 
 For He that slumbereth not is there; 
 
 His ear is open to their cry. 
 
 Oh, then, on prayerless bed 
 Lay not thy thoughtless head! 
 
 Arouse thee, weary soul, nor yield to slumber ! 
 
 Till in communion blest 
 With the elect ye rest, 
 
 Those souls of countless number; 
 
 And with them raise 
 The note of praise, 
 
 Reaching from earth to heaven : 
 
 Chosen, redeem’d, forgiven ! , 
 
 So lay thy happy head, 
 
 Prayer-crown’d, on blessed bed. 
 
 Margaret Mercer. 
 
 1093. EVENING. Prayer for 
 
 Father ! by Thy love and power 
 Comes again the evening hour. 
 
 Light has vanish’d, labours cease, 
 
 Weary creatures rest in peace. 
 
 Thou, whose genial dews distil 
 On the lowliest weed that grows, 
 
EVENING 
 
 224 
 
 EVIL 
 
 Father! guard our couch from ill, 
 
 Lull Thy children to repose. 
 
 We to Thee ourselves resign, 
 
 Let our latest thoughts be Thine. 
 
 1094. EVENING. Prayer for 
 
 I come to Thee to-night, 
 
 In my lone closet, where no eye can see, 
 
 And dare to crave communion high with Thee, 
 Father of love and light! 
 
 Softly the moonbeams shine 
 On the still branches of the shadowy trees, 
 
 While all sweet sounds of evening on the breeze 
 Steal through the slumbering vine. 
 
 Thou gavest the calm repose 
 That rests on all,—the air, the birds, the flowers, 
 The human spirit in its weary hours, 
 
 Now, at the bright day’s close. 
 
 ’Tis nature’s time for prayer ; 
 
 The silent praises of the glorious sky, 
 
 And the earth’s orisons profound and high, 
 
 To Heaven their breathings bear. 
 
 With them my soul would bend 
 In humble reverence at Thy holy throne, 
 
 Trusting the merits of Thy Son alone 
 Thy sceptre to extend. 
 
 If I this day have striven 
 With Thy blest Spirit, or have bow’d the knee 
 To aught of earth in weak idolatry, 
 
 I pray to be forgiven. 
 
 If I have turn’d away 
 
 From grief or suffering which I might relieve, 
 Careless the cup of water e’en to give, 
 
 Forgive me, Lord, I pray. 
 
 And teach me how to feel 
 My sinful wanderings with a deeper smart; 
 
 And more of mercy and of grace impart, 
 
 My sinfulness to heal. 
 
 Not for myself alone 
 
 Would I these blessings of Thy love implore ; 
 
 But for each penitent the wide world o’er, 
 
 Whom Thou hast call’d Thine own. 
 
 And now, O Father, take 
 The heart I cast with humble faith on Thee, 
 
 And cleanse its depths from each impurity, 
 
 For my Redeemer’s sake ! 
 
 1095. EVENING. Retirement of 
 
 Then is the time 
 
 For those whom wisdom and whom nature charm, 
 
 To steal themselves from the degenerate crowd, 
 And soar above this little scene of things ; 
 
 To tread low-thoughted vice beneath their feet, 
 
 To soothe the throbbing passions into peace ; 
 
 And woo lone quiet in her silent walks.— Thomson. 
 
 1096. EVENING. Thanks for 
 
 Father of heaven and earth ! 
 
 I bless Thee for the night, 
 
 The soft, still night! 
 
 The holy pause of care and mirth, 
 
 Of sound and light! 
 
 Now far in glade and dell, 
 
 Flower-cup, and bud, and bell 
 Have shut around the sleeping woodlark’s nest; 
 The bee’s long murmuring toils are done, 
 
 And I, -the o’erwearied one, 
 
 Bless Thee, O God, O Father of the oppress’d! 
 With my last waking thought, 
 
 In the still night! 
 
 Yes, ere I sink to rest 
 By the fire’s dying light, 
 
 Thou Lord of earth and heaven! 
 
 I bless Thee, who hast given 
 Unto life’s fainting travellers the night, 
 
 The soft, still, holy night '.‘—Mrs He?nans. 
 
 1097. EVIL. Abstain from 
 
 With caution taste the sweet Circsean cup ; 
 
 He that sips often, at last drinks it up. 
 
 Habits are soon assumed ; but when they strive 
 To strip them off ’tis being flay’d alive. 
 
 Call’d to the temple of impure delight, 
 
 He that abstains, and he alone, does right. 
 
 If a wish wander that way, call it home ; 
 
 He cannot long be safe whose wishes roam. 
 
 But if you pass the threshold, you are caught; 
 
 Die then, if power Almighty save you not. 
 
 There hardening by degrees, till double steel’d, 
 
 Take leave of nature’s God, and God reveal’d; 
 
 Then laugh at all you trembled at before, 
 
 And, joining the free-thinkers’ brutal roar, 
 
 Swallow the two grand nostrums they dispense, 
 
 The Scripture lies, and blasphemy is sense. 
 
 If clemency revolted by abuse 
 Be damnable, then damn’d without excuse. 
 
 Some dream that they can silence, when they will. 
 The storm of passion, and say, ‘ Peace, be still : * 
 But, ‘ Thus far and no farther,’ when address’d 
 To the wild wave, or wilder human breast, 
 
 Implies authority that never can. 
 
 That never ought to be the lot of man.— Coivper. 
 
EVIL 
 
 22; 
 
 EVIL REPORTS 
 
 1098. EVIL. Compensation of 
 
 Pain and sin are convicts, and toil in their fetters 
 for good ; 
 
 The weapons of evil are turned against itself fighting 
 under better banners : 
 
 The leech delighteth in stinging, and the wicked 
 loveth to do harm. 
 
 But the wise Physician of the universe useth that ill 
 tendency for health. 
 
 Verily, from others’ griefs are gendered sympathy 
 and kindness ; 
 
 Patience, humility, and faith spring not seldom from 
 thine own ; 
 
 An enemy, humbled by his own sorrows, cannot be 
 far from thy forgiveness, 
 
 A friend, who hath tasted of calamity, shall fan the 
 dying incense of thy love : 
 
 And for thyself, is it a small thing so to learn thy 
 frailty, 
 
 That from an aching bone thou savest the whole 
 body ? 
 
 The furnace of affliction may be fierce, but if it re- 
 fineth thy soul, 
 
 The good of one meek thought shall outweigh years 
 of torment. — Tripper. 
 
 1099. EVIL: enduring. 
 
 The evil that men do lives after them ; 
 
 The good is oft interred with their bones. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 1100. EVIL. Fruitfulness of 
 
 Oh, how will crime engender crime ! throw guilt 
 Upon the soul, and like a stone cast on 
 The troubled waters of a lake, 
 
 ’Twill form in circles, round succeeding round, 
 
 Each wider than the first.— Colman. 
 
 This is the curse of every evil deed. 
 
 That propagating still, it brings forth evil. 
 
 Coleridge. 
 
 1101. EVIL: its origin. 
 
 The fourteen centuries fall away 
 Between us and the Afric saint, 
 
 And at his side we urge to-day 
 The immemorial quest and old complaint. 
 
 No outward sign to us is given,— 
 
 From sea or earth comes no reply ; 
 
 Hush’d as the warm Numidian heaven 
 He vainly question’d, bends our frozen sky. 
 
 No victory comes of all our strife,— 
 
 From all we grasp the meaning slips ; 
 
 The Sphinx sits at the gate of life, 
 
 With the old question on her awful lips. 
 
 In paths unknown we hear the feet 
 Of fear before and guilt behind ; 
 
 V e pluck the wayside fruit, and eat 
 Ashes and dust beneath its golden rind. 
 
 From age to age descends uncheck’d 
 The sad bequest of sire to son, 
 
 The body’s taint, the mind’s defect,— 
 Through every web of life the dark threads run. 
 
 Oh ! why, and whither ? God knows all; 
 
 I only know that He is good, 
 
 And that whatever may befall, 
 
 Or here or there, must be the best that could. 
 
 Between the dreadful cherubim 
 A Father’s face I still discern, 
 
 As Moses look’d of old on Him, 
 
 And saw His glory into goodness turn. 
 
 For He is merciful as just; 
 
 And so, by faith correcting sight, 
 
 I bow before His will, and trust, 
 
 Howe’er they seem, He doeth all things right. 
 
 Whittier. 
 
 1102. EVIL: limited. 
 
 Evil is limited. One cannot form 
 A scheme for universal evil.— Bailey. 
 
 1103. EVIL. Uprooting 
 
 A SPROUT of evil, ere it has struck root, 
 
 With thumb and finger one up-pulls: 
 
 To start it, when grown up and full of fruit, 
 Requires a mighty yoke of bulls. 
 
 Oriental, tr. by W. R. Alger. 
 
 1104. EVIL: works good. 
 
 * 
 
 The clouds, which rise with thunder, slake 
 Our thirsty souls with rain, 
 
 The blow most dreaded falls to break 
 From off our limbs a chain ; 
 
 And wrongs of man to man but make 
 The love of God more plain, 
 
 As through the shadowy lens of even 
 The eye looks farthest into heaven 
 On gleams of star and depths of blue, 
 
 The glaring sunshine never knew.— Whittier. 
 
 1105. EVIL REPORTS. 
 
 They say—ah ! well, suppose they do, 
 
 But can they prove this story true ? 
 
 Suspicions may arise from nought 
 But malice, envy, want of thought; 
 
 Why count yourself among the ‘ they ’ 
 
 Who whisper what they dare not say ? 
 
 15 
 
EVILS 
 
 226 
 
 EXAMPLE 
 
 They say —but why the tale rehearse, 
 
 And help to make the matter worse ? 
 
 No good can possibly accrue 
 From telling what may be untrue ; 
 
 And is it not a nobler plan 
 To speak of all the best you can? 
 
 They say —well, if it should be so, 
 
 Why need you tell the tale of woe ? 
 
 Will it the bitter wrong redress, 
 
 Or make one pang of sorrow less ? 
 
 Will it the erring one restore, 
 
 Henceforth to ‘go and sin no more ’? 
 
 They say —oh ! pause and look within: 
 
 See how thy heart inclines to sin ; 
 
 Watch, lest in dark temptation’s hour, 
 
 Thou, too, shouldst sink beneath its power. 
 
 Pity the frail, weep o’er their fall, 
 
 But speak of good, or not at all. 
 
 1106. EVILS. Anticipating 
 
 Some of your hurts you have cured, 
 
 And the sharpest you still have survived, 
 
 But what torments of grief you endured 
 From evils which never arrived ! 
 
 From the French , tr. by Emerson. 
 
 1107. EVILS. Imaginary 
 
 Let to-morrow take care of to-morrow,— 
 Leave things of the future to fate ; 
 
 What’s the use to anticipate sorrow ?— 
 
 Life’s troubles come never too late ! 
 
 If to hope overmuch be an error, 
 
 ’Tis one that the wise have preferr’d ; 
 
 And how often have hearts been in terror 
 Of evils that never occurr’d. 
 
 Have faith, and thy faith shall sustain thee— 
 Permit not suspicion and care 
 With invisible bonds to enchain thee, 
 
 But bear what God gives thee to bear. 
 
 By His Spirit supported and gladden’d, 
 
 Be ne’er by forebodings deterr’d ; 
 
 But think how oft hearts have been sadden’d 
 By fear of what never occurr’d. 
 
 Let to-morrow take care of to-morrow: 
 
 Short and dark as our life may appear, 
 
 We may make it still darker by sorrow,— 
 
 Still shorter by folly and fear ! 
 
 Half our troubles are half our invention, 
 
 And often from blessings conferr’d 
 Have we shrunk, in the wild apprehension 
 Of evils that never occurr’d. — Charles Swain. 
 
 1108. EVILS. Improvement of 
 
 There is some soul of goodness in things evil, 
 Would men observingly distil it out; 
 
 For our bad neighbour makes us early stirrers ; 
 Which is both healthful and good husbandry. 
 Besides, they are our outward consciences, 
 
 And preachers to us all ; admonishing, 
 
 That we should dress us fairly for our end, 
 
 That we may gather honey from the sweet, 
 
 And make a moral of the devil himself. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 1109. EXAMPLE. Influence of 
 
 No age hath been, since Nature first began' 
 
 To work Jove’s wonders, but hath left behind 
 Some deeds of praise for mirrors unto man, 
 
 Which more than threatful laws have men inclined : 
 To tread the paths of praise excites the mind ; 
 Mirrors tie thoughts to virtue’s due respects ; 
 Examples hasten deeds to good effects. 
 
 Mirror for Magistrates. 
 
 Your edicts some reclaim from sins, 
 
 But most your life and blest example wins. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 Example is a living law, whose sway 
 Men more than all the written laws obey. 
 
 Sedley. 
 
 A fault doth never with remorse 
 Our minds so deeply move, 
 
 As when another's guiltless life 
 
 Our error doth reprove.— Brandon. 
 
 For as the light 
 
 Not only serves to show but render us 
 Mutually profitable ; so our lives, 
 
 In acts exemplary, not only win 
 Ourselves good names, but do to others give 
 Matter for virtuous deeds, by which we live. 
 
 Chapman. 
 
 On the smooth expanse of crystal lakes, 
 
 The sinking stone at first a circle makes: 
 
 The trembling surface, by the motion stirr’d, 
 Spreads in a second circle, then a third ; 
 
 Wide, and more wide, the floating rings advance, 
 Fill all the wat’ry plain, and to the margin dance. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 1110. EXAMPLE. Influence of 
 
 Still shines the light of holy lives 
 Like star-beams over doubt; 
 
 Each sainted memory, Christ-like, drives 
 Some dark possession out. 
 
EXAMPLE 
 
 227 
 
 EXAMPLE 
 
 O friend ! O brother ! not in vain 
 Thy life so calm and true, 
 
 The silver dropping of the rain, 
 
 The fall of summer dew ! 
 
 With weary hand, yet steadfast will, 
 
 In old age as in youth, 
 
 Thy Master found thee sowing still 
 The good seed of His truth. 
 
 As on thy task-field closed the day 
 In golden-skied decline, 
 
 His angel met thee on the way, 
 
 And lent his arm to thine.— Whittier. 
 
 Ill I. EXAMPLE. License of 
 
 If apostolic gravity be free 
 
 To play the fool on Sundays, why not we ? 
 
 If he the tinkling harpsichord regards 
 As inoffensive, what offence in cards ? 
 
 Strike up the fiddles, let us all be gay ! 
 Laymen have leave to dance, if parsons play. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 1112. EXAMPLE. Need of 
 
 The sexton, tolling his bell at noon, 
 
 Deems not that great Napoleon 
 
 Stops his horse, and lists with delight 
 
 Whilst his files sweep round yon Alpine height; 
 
 Nor knowest thou what argument 
 
 Thy life to thy neighbour’s creed has lent. 
 
 All are needed by each one ; 
 
 Nothing is fair or good alone.— Emerson. 
 
 1113. EXAMPLE: of the great. 
 
 His faults, that in a private station sits, 
 
 Do mainly harm him only that commits: 
 
 Those placed on high a bright example owe,— 
 Much to themselves, more to the crowd below. 
 
 A paltry watch, in private pocket borne, 
 
 Misleads but him alone by whom ’tis worn : 
 
 But the town-clock that domes or towers display, 
 By going wrong, leads half the world astray. 
 
 Colton . 
 
 1114. EXAMPLE. Power of 
 
 Go make thy garden fair as thou canst,— 
 
 Thou workest never alone ; 
 
 Perchance he whose plot is next to thine 
 Will see it, and mend his own. 
 
 And the next may copy his, sweetheart, 
 
 Till all grows fair and sweet; 
 
 And, when the Master comes at eve, 
 
 Happy faces His coming will greet. 
 
 Then shall thy joy be full, sweetheart, 
 
 In the garden so fair to see: 
 
 In the Master’s words of praise for all, 
 
 In a look of His own for thee.— Mrs Charles. 
 
 1115. EXAMPLE. Present 
 
 Present example gets within our guard, 
 
 And acts with double force, by few repell’d. 
 Ambition fires ambition ; love of gain 
 Strikes, like a pestilence, from breast to breast. 
 Riot, pride, perfidy, blue vapours breathe ; 
 
 And inhumanity is caught from man, 
 
 From smiling man ! A slight, a single glance, 
 And shot at random, often has brought home 
 A sudden fever to the throbbing heart 
 Of envy, rancour, or impure desire. 
 
 We see, we hear, with peril; safety dwells 
 Remote from multitude. The world’s a school 
 Of wrong ; and what proficients swarm around ! 
 We must or imitate or disapprove ; 
 
 Must list as their accomplices or foes : 
 
 That stains our innocence, this wounds our peace. 
 
 Young. 
 
 1116. EXAMPLE. Regard for 
 
 Once Sultan Nushirvan the Just, hunting, 
 
 Stopp’d in an open field to take a lunch. 
 
 He wanted salt, and to a servant said, 
 
 ‘ Go get some at the nearest house, but pay 
 The price the peasant asks.’ ‘Great King,’ ex¬ 
 claim’d 
 
 The servant, ‘ thou art lord o’er all this realm ; 
 
 Why take the pains to buy a little salt ? ’ 
 
 ‘It is a little thing,’ said Nushirvan, 
 
 ‘ And so, at first, was all the evil whose 
 Most monstrous load now presses so the world. 
 
 Were there no little wrongs, no great could be. 
 
 If I from off a poor man’s tree should pluck 
 A single apple, straight my slaves would rob 
 The whole tree to its root: if I should seize 
 Five eggs, my ministers at once would snatch 
 A hundred hens. Therefore strict justice must 
 I, even in unimportant acts, observe. 
 
 Bring salt, but pay the peasant what he asks.’ 
 
 Oriental. 
 
 1117. EXAMPLE. Reward of 
 
 If men of good lives, 
 
 Who, by their virtuous actions, stir up others 
 To noble and religious imitation, 
 
 Receive the greater glory after death, 
 
 As sin must needs confess ; what may they feel 
 In height of torment, and in weight of vengeance, 
 Not only they themselves not doing well, 
 
 But set a light up to show men to hell ? 
 
 Middleton , 
 
EXAMPLE 
 
 228 
 
 EXCESS 
 
 1118. EXAMPLE. The great 
 
 Ye who look for great examples 
 O’er the wide historic page,— 
 
 Teachers, who with good ensamples, 
 
 Would the thoughts of youth engage ! 
 
 To the Sacred Record turning, 
 
 There behold the perfect man ! 
 
 There the light, for ever burning; 
 
 Match its lustre if you can ! 
 
 Imitate the Great Example, 
 
 Humbly as a Christian should, 
 
 Ever, like that bright Ensample, 
 
 Speaking well and doing good.— Egone. 
 
 \ 
 
 1119. EXAMPLE. Use of 
 
 Heaven me such uses send ; 
 
 Not to pick bad from bad ; but by bad, mend ! 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 1120. EXCELLENCE. Attainment of 
 
 Saint Augustine ! well hast thou said, 
 
 That of our vices we can frame 
 
 A ladder, if we will but tread 
 
 Beneath our feet each deed of shame ! 
 
 All common things, each day’s events. 
 
 That with the hour begin and end. 
 
 Our pleasures and our discontents, 
 
 Are rounds by which we may ascend. 
 
 The low desire, the base design. 
 
 That makes another’s virtues less ; 
 
 The revel of the ruddy wine, 
 
 And all occasions of excess; 
 
 The longing for ignoble things ; 
 
 The strife for triumph more than truth ; 
 
 The hardening of the heart, that brings 
 Irreverence for the dreams of youth ; 
 
 All thoughts of ill; all evil deeds, 
 
 That have their root in thoughts of ill ; 
 
 Whatever hinders or impedes 
 The action of the nobler will;— 
 
 All these must first be trampled down 
 Beneath our feet, if we would gain 
 
 In the bright fields of fair renown 
 The right of eminent domain. 
 
 We have not wings, we cannot soar; 
 
 But we have feet to scale and climb 
 
 By slow degrees, by more and more, 
 
 The cloudy summits of our time. 
 
 The mighty pyramids of stone 
 
 That wedge-like cleave the desert airs, 
 
 When nearer seen, and better known, 
 
 Are but gigantic flights of stairs. 
 
 The distant mountains, that uprear 
 Their solid bastions to the skies, 
 
 Are cross’d by pathways, that appear 
 As we to higher levels rise. 
 
 The heights by great men reach’d and kept 
 Were not attain’d by sudden flight; 
 
 But they, while their companions slept. 
 
 Were toiling upward in the night. 
 
 Standing on what too long we bore 
 With shoulders bent and downcast eyes, 
 
 We may discern—unseen before— 
 
 A path to higher destinies. 
 
 Nor deem the irrevocable Past 
 As wholly wasted, wholly vain, 
 
 If rising on its wrecks, at last 
 
 To something nobler we attain.— Longfellow. 
 
 1121. EXCELLENCE. Cost of 
 
 No good of worth sublime will Heaven permit 
 To light on man as from the passing air ; 
 
 The lamp of genius, though by nature lit, 
 
 If not protected, pruned, and fed with care, 
 
 Soon dies, or runs to waste with fitful glare ; 
 
 And learning is a plant that spreads and towers 
 Slow as Columbia’s aloe, proudly rare, 
 
 That ’mid gay thousands, with the suns and showers 
 Of half a century, grows alone before it flowers. 
 
 Wilcox. 
 
 1122. EXCELLENCE: possible. 
 
 Even in a palace, life may be led well ! 
 
 So spoke the imperial sage, purest of men, 
 
 Marcus Aurelius. But the stifling den 
 Of common life, where, crowded up pell-mell, 
 
 Our freedom for a little bread we sell, 
 
 And drudge under some foolish master’s ken, 
 
 Who rates us, if we peer outside our pen,— 
 
 Match’d with a palace, is not this a hell ? 
 
 Even in a palace ! On his truth sincere, 
 
 Who spoke these words, no shadow ever came ; 
 
 And when my ill-school’d spirit is aflame 
 Some nobler, ampler stage of life to win, 
 
 I’ll stop, and say : ‘ There were no succour here ! 
 The aids to noble life are all within.’ 
 
 Matthew Arnold. 
 
 1123. EXCESS. Avoiding 
 
 Moderate tasks and moderate leisure, 
 
 Quiet living, strict-kept measure, 
 
 Both in suffering and in pleasure,— 
 
 ’Tis for this thy nature yearns. 
 
EXCESS 
 
 229 
 
 EXILE 
 
 But so many books thou readest, 
 
 But so many schemes thou breedest, 
 
 But so many wishes feedest, 
 
 That thy poor head almost turns. 
 
 And (the world’s so madly fangled, 
 
 Human things so fast entangled,) 
 
 Nature’s wish must now be strangled 
 For that best which she discerns. 
 
 So it must be ! yet while leading 
 A strain’d life, while over-feeding, 
 
 Like the rest, his wit with reading, 
 
 No small profit that man earns, 
 
 Who through all he meets can steer him, 
 
 Can reject what cannot clear him. 
 
 Cling to what can truly cheer him ! 
 
 Who each day more surely learns 
 
 That an impulse, from the distance 
 Of his deepest, best existence, 
 
 To the words ‘Hope, Light, Persistence,’ 
 Strongly stirs and truly burns ! 
 
 Alatthew Arnold. 
 
 1124. EXCESS. Penalty of 
 
 Violent fires soon burn out themselves ; 
 
 Small showers last long, but sudden storms are short; 
 He tires betimes, that spurs too fast betimes; 
 
 With eager feeding, food doth choke the feeder ; 
 Light vanity, insatiate cormorant, 
 
 Consuming means, soon preys upon itself. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 U25. EXCITEMENT. Caution against 
 
 Don’t catch the fidgets ; you have found your place 
 Just in the focus of a nervous race, 
 
 Fretful to change, and rabid to discuss, 
 
 Full of excitements, always in a fuss ; 
 
 Think of the patriarchs ; then compare as men 
 These lean-cheek’d maniacs of the tongue and pen ! 
 Run like a man, but don’t be work’d to death ; 
 
 And with new notions,—let me change the rule,— 
 Don’t strike the iron till it’s slightly cool .—Holmes. 
 
 1126. EXERCISE. 
 
 Weariness 
 
 Can snore upon the flint, when resty Sloth 
 Finds the down pillow hard. —Shakespeare. 
 
 He does allot for every exercise 
 A sev’ral hour; for Sloth, the nurse of vices, 
 And rust of action, is a stranger to him. 
 
 Massinger. 
 
 The wise for cure on exercise depend : 
 
 God never made His work for man to mend. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 By ceaseless action all that is subsists. 
 
 Constant rotation of the unwearied wheel 
 That Nature rides upon maintains her health, 
 
 Her beauty, her fertility. She dreads 
 An instant s pause, and lives but while she moves. 
 Its own revolvency upholds the world. 
 
 Winds from all quarters agitate the air, 
 
 And fit the limpid element for use, 
 
 Else noxious : oceans, rivers, lakes, and streams, 
 All feel the fresh’ning impulse, and are cleansed 
 By restless undulation : e’en the oak 
 Thrives indeed indignant, and to feel 
 The impression of the blast with proud disdain, 
 Frowning, as if in his unconscious arm 
 He held the thunder; but the monarch owes 
 His firm stability to what he scorns— 
 
 More fix’d below, the more disturb’d above. 
 
 1 he law, by which all creatures else are bound, 
 Binds man, the lord of all. Himself derives 
 No mean advantage from a kindred cause, 
 
 From strenuous toil his hours of sweetest ease. 
 
 The sedentary stretch their lazy length 
 When custom bids, but no refreshment find, 
 
 For none they need; the languid eye, the cheek 
 Deserted of its bloom, the flaccid, shrunk, 
 
 And wither’d muscle, and the vapid soul. 
 
 Reproach their owner with that love of rest 
 To which he forfeits e’en the rest he loves. 
 
 Not such the alert and active. Measure life 
 By its true worth, the comforts it affords, 
 
 And theirs alone seems worthy of the name, 
 
 Good health, and, its associate in the most, 
 
 Good temper; spirits prompt to undertake, 
 
 And not soon spent, though in an arduous task ; 
 
 The powers of fancy and strong thought are theirs ; 
 E’en age itself seems privileged in them, 
 
 With clear exemption from its own defects ; 
 
 A sparkling eye beneath a wrinkled front 
 The veteran shows, and, gracing a grey beard 
 With youthful smiles, descends towards the grave 
 Sprightly, and old almost without decay.— Cowper. 
 
 1127. EXILE. Bitterness of 
 
 Home, kindred, friends, and country—these 
 Are ties with which we never part; 
 
 From clime to clime, o’er land and seas, 
 
 We bear them with us in our heart: 
 
 But, 0I1 ! ’tis hard to feel resign’d, 
 
 When these must all be left behind! 
 
 J. Montgomery. 
 
 But doth the exile’s heart serenely there 
 
 In sunshine dwell? Ah ! when was exile blest? 
 
 \\ hen did bright scenes, clear heavens, or summer air 
 Chase from his soul the fever of unrest. 
 
 Mrs ILemans. 
 
EXILE 
 
 230 
 
 EXPECT A TION 
 
 1128. EXILE: impossible to the Christian. 
 
 All countries are my Father’s lands_ 
 
 Thy sun, Thy love, doth shine on all ; 
 
 We may in all lift up pure hands, 
 
 And with acceptance on Thee call. 
 
 What if in prison I must dwell,— 
 
 May I not there converse with Thee ? 
 
 Save me from sin, Thy wrath, and hell, 
 
 Call me Thy child, and I am free. 
 
 v 
 
 No walls or bars can keep Thee out; 
 
 None can confine a holy soul ; 
 
 The streets of heaven it walks about, 
 
 None can its liberty control. 
 
 Richard Baxter. 
 
 1129. EXILE. Influence of 
 
 And they who before were strangers, 
 Meeting in exile, became straightway as friends to 
 each other.— Longfellow. 
 
 113°. EXILE. The first 
 
 Some natural tears they dropt, but wiped them soon ; 
 The world was all before them, where to choose 
 Their place of rest, and Providence their guide : 
 
 They hand in hand, with wand’ring steps and slow, 
 Through Eden took their solitary w r ay.— Milton. 
 
 1131. EXILE. The: his consolation. 
 
 My home in heaven alone to me remains : 
 
 The floods of faction o’er my country sweep ; 
 
 For my uncertain feet, the land retains 
 No resting-place, no friend to weep ; 
 
 No child to soothe the homeless poor forlorn; 
 
 I wander day by day with trembling limbs and torn. 
 
 What lot awaits me ? What my mortal doom ? 
 
 Where shall this jaded body find its rest ? 
 
 Shall this poor trembling flesh e’er find a tomb ? 
 
 By whom shall these dim eyes in death be blest ? 
 Will any watch? Will any pity me? 
 
 W ill they be Christian watchers ? Or shall sinners 
 see ? 
 
 Or shall no grave inclose this mortal frame, 
 
 When laid a heavy breathless corpse of clay? 
 
 Cast on the rock uncover’d and in shame, 
 
 Or toss’d in scorn to birds and beasts of prey ? 
 
 Or burnt to ashes, given to the air? 
 
 Or thrown into the weedy deep to perish there ? 
 
 Thy will be done, O Lord! That day shall spring, 
 When at Thy word this clay shall reappear ! 
 
 No death I dread but that which sin will bring- : 
 
 No fire or flood without Thy wrath I fear ; 
 
 For Thou, O Christ, my Lord! art fatherland to me, 
 My wealth and might and rest, my all I find in Thee. 
 
 Gregory of Nazianzen, ir. by Schaff. 
 
 1132. EXISTENCE. Animal 
 
 There are a number of us creep 
 Into this world, to eat and sleep ; 
 
 And know no reason why we’re born, 
 
 But only to consume the corn, 
 
 Devour the cattle, fowl, and fish, 
 
 And leave behind an empty dish. 
 
 The crows and ravens do the same, 
 
 Unlucky birds of hateful name ; 
 
 Ravens or crows might fill their places, 
 
 And swallow corn and carcasses. 
 
 Then if their tombstone, when they die, 
 
 Be n’t taught to flatter and to lie, 
 
 There’s nothing better will be said 
 Than that ‘ they’ve eat up all their bread, 
 
 Drunk up their drink, and gone to bed.’— Watts. 
 
 11 33 - EXPECTATION. Disappointed 
 
 The distant prospect always seem more fair, 
 
 And when attain’d, another still succeeds, 
 
 Far fairer than before,—yet compass’d round 
 With the same dangers, and the same dismay. 
 And we poor pilgrims in this dreary maze, 
 
 Still discontented, chase the fairy form 
 Of unsubstantial Happiness, to find, 
 
 When life itself is sinking in the strife, 
 
 ’Tis but an airy bubble and a cheat. 
 
 Henry Kirke White. 
 
 1 134 - EXPECTATION. Influence of 
 
 So tedious is this day, 
 
 As is the night before some festival 
 To an impatient child that hath new robes, 
 
 And may not wear them.— Shakespeare. 
 
 ’ Tis expectation makes a blessing dear.— Pope. 
 
 H 35 - EXPECTATION. Promise of 
 
 Oft expectation fails, and most oft there 
 Where most it promises: and oft it hits 
 Where hope is coldest, and despair most sits. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 1136. EXPECTATION. Suspense of 
 
 Oh how impatience gains upon the soul, 
 
 When the long-promised hour of joy draws near ! 
 How slow the tardy moments seem to roll ! 
 
 What spectres ri*e of inconsistent fear ! 
 
 To the fond doubting heart its hopes appear 
 
EXPENDITURE 
 
 231 
 
 EXTASY 
 
 Too brightly fair, too sweet to realize ; 
 
 All seem but day-dreams of delight too dear ! 
 Strange hopes and fears in painful contest rise, 
 
 ► While the scarce-trusted bliss seems but to cheat the 
 ^ eyes. —Mrs Tighe. 
 
 1137 - EXPENDITURE. Rules for 
 
 Be thrifty, but not covetous: therefore give 
 
 Thy need, thine honour, and thy friend his due. 
 Never was scraper brave man. Get to live ; 
 
 Then live, and use it: else, it is not true 
 That thou hast gotten. Surely use alone 
 Makes money not a contemptible stone. 
 
 Never exceed thy income. Youth may make 
 Even with the year: but age, if it will hit. 
 Shoots a bow short, and lessens still his stake, 
 
 As the day lessens, and his life with it. 
 
 Thy children, kindred, friends upon thee call; 
 Before thy journey fairly part with al \.—Herbert. 
 
 1138. EXPERIENCE. Discipline of 
 
 How false is found, as on in life a e go, 
 
 Our early estimate of bliss and wo ■! 
 
 Some sparkling joy attracts us, tha; we fain 
 Would sell a precious birth-right tc obtain. 
 
 There all our hopes of happiness arc placed ; 
 
 Life looks without it like a joyless waste ; 
 
 No good is prized, no comfort sough beside ; 
 
 Piayeis, tears implore, and will not 1 1 denied. 
 
 Heaven pitying hears the intemperate rude appeal, 
 And suits its answer to our truest wea; 
 
 The self-sought idol, if at last bestow’-, 
 
 Proves, \\ hat our wilfulness required, 3 goad 5 
 Ne’er but as needful chastisement, is gi. en 
 The wish thus forced, and torn, and form’d from 
 Heaven: 
 
 But if withheld in pity, from our prayer, 
 
 We rave, awhile, of torment and despair 
 Refuse each proffer’d comfort with disdan, 
 
 And slight the thousand blessings that regain. 
 Meantime Heaven bears the grievous vrong, and 
 waits 
 
 In patient pity till the storm abates; 
 
 Applies with gentlest hand the healing bain, 
 
 Or speaks the ruffled mind into a calm ; 
 
 Deigning, perhaps, to show the mourner soon, 
 
 Twas special mercy that denied the boon. 
 
 Our blasted hopes, our aims and wishes cross’d, 
 
 Aie worth the tears and agonies they cost ; 
 
 When the poor mind, by fruitless efforts spe: t, 
 
 With food and raiment learns to be content. 
 
 Bounding with youthful hope, the restless mi d 
 Leaves that Divine monition far behind; 
 
 But tamed at length by suffering, comprehends 
 The tranquil happiness to which it tends, 
 
 Perceives the high-wrought bliss it aims to share, 
 Demands a richer soil, a purer air ; 
 
 That ’tis not fitted, and would strangely grace 
 The mean condition of our mortal race ; 
 
 And all we need, in this terrestrial spot, 
 
 Is calm contentment with ‘ the common lot.’ 
 
 Jane Taylor. 
 
 1 * 39 - EXPERIENCE: gives authority. 
 
 I KNOW thy loyal heart, and prudent head ; 
 
 Upon whose hairs, time’s child, experience, hangs 
 A milk-white badge of wisdom ; and canst wield 
 Thy tongue in senate, and thy hands in field. 
 
 True Trojans. 
 
 1140. EXPERIENCE: how it is gained. 
 
 Experience is by industry achieved, 
 
 And perfected by the swift course of time. 
 
 Shakespeare . 
 
 1141. EXPERIENCE. Learning from 
 
 ’Tis greatly wise to talk with our past hours ! 
 
 And ask them what report they bore to heaven ; 
 And how they might have borne more welcome news. 
 Their answer forms what men experience call ; 
 
 If wisdom’s friend, her best; if not, worst foe. 
 
 Young. 
 
 1142. EXPERIENCE. Teachings of 
 
 To wilful men, 
 
 The injuries that they themselves procure, 
 
 Must be their schoolmasters.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Experience wounded is the school 
 
 Where man learns piercing wisdom, out of smart. 
 
 Lord Brook. 
 
 Oh teach him, while your lessons last, 
 
 To judge the present by the past; 
 
 Remind him of each wish pursued, 
 
 How rich it glow’d with promised good ; 
 Remind him of each wish enjoy’d, 
 
 How soon his hopes possession cloy’d \—Scott. 
 
 U43. EXPERIENCE. Usefulness of 
 
 Experience join’d with common sense, 
 
 To mortals is a providence.— Green. 
 
 1144. EXTASY. 
 
 Melancholy 
 
 Is not, as you conceive, an indisposition 
 Of body, but the mind’s disease ; so extasy, 
 Fantastic dotage, madness, frenzy, rapture, 
 
EXTRA VA GANCE 
 
 232 
 
 FAILURE 
 
 Of mere imagination, differ partly 
 From melancholy ; which is briefly this: 
 
 A mere commotion of the mind, o’ercharged 
 With fear and sorrow ; first begat i’ th’ brain, 
 The seat of reason, and from thence, derived 
 As suddenly into the heart, the seat 
 Of our affection.— Ford. 
 
 1145 . extravagance. 
 
 The man who builds and wants wherewith to pay, 
 Provides a home from which to run away.— Young. 
 
 Mansions once 
 
 Knew their own masters, and laborious hinds, 
 That had survived the father, served the son. 
 
 Now the legitimate and rightful lord 
 Is but a transient guest, newly arrived, 
 
 And soon to be supplanted. He that saw 
 His patrimonial timber cast its leaf, 
 
 Sells the last scantling, and transfers the price 
 To some shrewd sharper ere it buds again. 
 
 Estates are landscapes, gazed upon awhile, 
 
 Then advertised and auctioneer’d away.— Cowper. 
 
 1146. EXTREMES. End of 
 
 These violent delights have violent ends, 
 
 And in their triumph die: like fire and powder, 
 Which, as they meet, consume. The sweetest honey 
 Is loathsome in its own deliciousness, 
 
 And in the taste confounds the appetite. 
 
 Therefore love moderately, long love doth so ; 
 
 Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Those edges soonest turn that are most keen, 
 
 A sober moderation stands sure, 
 
 No violent extremes endure.— Aleyn. 
 
 Let wealth come in by comely thrift, 
 
 And not by any sordid shift ; 
 
 ’Tis haste 
 Makes waste ; 
 
 Extremes have still their fault. 
 
 Who gripes too hard the dry and slipp’ry sand, 
 Holds none at all, or little, in his hand. 
 
 Herrick. 
 
 1147- EXTREMES: meet. 
 
 c 
 
 Extremes, though contrary, have the like effects ; 
 Extreme heat mortifies like extreme cold ; 
 
 Extreme love breeds satiety, as well 
 As extreme hatred ; and too violent rigout 
 Tempts chastity as much as too much license. 
 
 Chapman. 
 
 They are as sick, that surfeit with too much, ] 
 
 As they that starve with nothing ; therefore it 
 
 Is no mean happiness to be seated 
 In the mean ; superfluity comes sooner 
 By white hairs, but competency lives longer. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 ’Tis in worldly accidents, 
 
 As in the world itself, where things most distant 
 Meet one another: Thus the east and west, 
 Upon the globe a mathematical point 
 Only divides : Thus happiness and misery, 
 
 And all extremes, are still contiguous. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 1148. EXTREMES: to be avoided. 
 
 Avoid extremes, and shun the faults of such 
 Who still are pleased too little, or too much. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 1149. EYES. The 
 
 Sounds which address the ear are lost and die 
 In one short hour j but that which strikes the eye 
 Lives long upon the mind ; the faithful sight 
 Engraves the knowledge with a beam of light. 
 
 I Watts. 
 
 / Those eyes, 
 
 Soft and capacious as a cloudless sky, 
 
 Whose azurefdepth their colour emulates, 
 
 Must needs be conversant with upward looks: 
 Prayer’s voiceless service.— Wordszuorth. 
 
 1150. FACTION. 
 
 Seldom is faction’s ire in haughty minds 
 Extinguish’d fut by death: it oft, like fire 
 Suppress’d, b eaks forth again, and blazes higher. 
 
 May. 
 
 Avoid the pditic, the factious fool, 
 
 The busy, bizzing, talking, harden’d knave; 
 
 The quaint mooth rogue, that sins against his reason, 
 Calls saucy loud sedition public zeal: 
 
 And mutiny the dictates of his spirit.— Otway. 
 
 1 1 5 1 - FAILURE: deplored. 
 
 It is so li.tle, and so poorly done, 
 
 This worV of mine, yet now the evening sun 
 Is low out in the west, 
 
 And I mist give a truthful record in, 
 
 Of all I trove to gain, and fail’d to win, 
 
 Fie I may ask for rest. 
 
 I had sc nany dreams when first the light 
 Broke if the waiting east, and now ’tis night, 
 
 /till they are dreams unwrought; 
 
 I would have made them deeds, all strong and true, 
 But I jjrew tired, and the hours were few, 
 bo they remain but thought. 
 
FAILURE 
 
 233 
 
 FAITH 
 
 So now through falling mists that cling and chill, 
 And deepening, purple shadows, long and still, 
 Groping my way, I come ; 
 
 Within sweet meadows where the,bloom is dim, 
 
 I hear the labourers chant an evening hymn, 
 
 But, Lord, my lips are dumb ! 
 
 for I have fail’d: my day is lost and spent, 
 
 Thy sorrowing look, reproachful, gives assent, 
 
 I know my shame at length. 
 
 Thy pardon, Lord ? ‘ My child, thy faith was meek, 
 
 Thy aim was good—thou in thyself wast weak. 
 Daughter, I had the strength.’ 
 
 Juliet C. Marsh. 
 
 The time for toil has pass’d, and night has come— 
 The last and saddest of the harvest eves ; 
 
 W orn out with labour long and wearisome, 
 
 Drooping and faint, the reapers hasten home, 
 
 Each laden with his sheaves. 
 
 East of the labourers, Thy feet I gain, 
 
 Lord of the harvest! and my spirit grieves 
 That I am burden’d, not so much with grain, 
 
 As with a heaviness of heart and brain : 
 
 Master, behold my sheaves ! 
 
 Few, light and worthless—yet their trifling weight 
 Through all my frame a weary aching leaves ; 
 jFor long I struggled with my hopeless fate, 
 lAnd stay’d and toil’d till it was dark and late— 
 
 Yet these are all my sheaves. 
 
 jFull well I know I have more tares than wheat, 
 Brambles and flowers, dry stalks and wither’d 
 I leaves; 
 
 1 Wherefore I blush and weep, as at Thy feet 
 I kneel down reverently and, repeat, 
 
 ‘ Master, behold my sheaves ! ’ 
 
 •••••» 
 
 Yet do I gather strength and hope anew ; 
 
 For well I know Thy patient love perceives 
 Not what I did but what I strove to do— 
 
 And though the full ripe ears be sadly few, 
 
 Thou wilt accept my sheaves .—Elizabeth Akers. 
 
 1152. FAILURE. Scorn of 
 
 Once more in the matter of wealth : if thou throw 
 thine all on a chance. 
 
 Men will come around thee, and wait and watch the 
 turning of the wheel; 
 
 And if, in the lottery of life, thou hast drawn a splen¬ 
 did prize, 
 
 What foresight hadst thou, and skill ! yea, what 
 enterprise and wisdom ! 
 
 But if it fall out against thee, and thou fail in thy 
 perilous endeavour, 
 
 Behold, the simple did sow, and hath reaped the 
 right harvest of his folly, 
 
 And the world will be gladly accused, nor will reach 
 out his finger to help ; 
 
 For why should this speculative dullard be a whirl¬ 
 pool to all around him ? 
 
 Go to, let him sink by himself; we knew what the 
 end of it would be : 
 
 For the man hath missed his mark, and his fellows 
 look no farther.— M. F. Tupper. 
 
 II 53 * FAITH. A living and a dead 
 
 Not words alone it cost the Lord, 
 
 To purchase pardon for His own ; 
 
 Nor will a soul by grace restored 
 Return the Saviour words alone. 
 
 With golden bells, the priestly vest, 
 
 And rich pomegranates border’d round, 
 
 The need of holiness express’d, 
 
 And call’d for fruit as well as sound. 
 
 Easy, indeed, it were to reach 
 A mansion in the courts above, 
 
 If swelling words and fluent speech 
 Might serve instead of faith and love. 
 
 But none shall gain the blissful place, 
 
 Or God’s unclouded glory see. 
 
 Who talks of free and sov’reign grace, 
 
 Unless that grace has made him free. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 1154. FAITH: and good works. 
 
 A lively faith will bear aloft the mind, 
 
 And leave the luggage of good works behind. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 1155. FAITH: and tradition. 
 
 Faith loves to lean on time’s destroying arm, 
 
 And age, like distance, lends a double charm. 
 
 O. IV. Holmes. 
 
 1156. FAITH. Basis of 
 
 Faith, like an unsuspecting child 
 Serenely resting on its mother’s arm, 
 
 Reposing every care upon her God, 
 
 Sleeps on His bosom, and expects no harm. 
 
 Receives with joy the promises He makes, 
 
 Nor questions of His purpose or His power ; 
 
 She does not doubting ask, ‘ Gan this be so?’ 
 
 The Lord has said it, and there needs no more. 
 
 However deep be the mysterious word, 
 However dark, she disbelieves it not : 
 Where reason would examine, faith obeys, 
 l And ‘ It is written ’ answers every doubt. 
 
FAITH 
 
 234 
 
 FAITH 
 
 As evening’s pale and solitary star 
 
 But brightens while the darkness gathers round ; 
 So faith, unmoved amid surrounding storms, 
 
 Is fairest seen in darkness most profound. 
 
 • Caroline Fry. 
 
 1157. FAITH. Cheerfulness of 
 
 The child leans on its parent’s breast, 
 Leaves there its cares and is at rest; 
 
 The bird sits singing by his nest, 
 
 And tells aloud 
 
 His trust in God, and so is blest 
 
 ’Neath every cloud. 
 
 He has no store, he sows no seed; 
 
 Yet sings aloud, and doth not heed ; 
 
 By flowing stream or grassy mead, 
 
 He sings to shame 
 Men, who forget, in fear of need, 
 
 A Father’s name. 
 
 The heart that trusts for ever sings, 
 
 And feels as light as it had wings ; 
 
 A well of peace within it springs ; 
 
 Come good or ill, 
 Whate’er to-day, to-morrow brings, 
 
 It is His will. 
 
 Isaac Williams. 
 
 1158. FAITH. Clew of 
 
 Hallelujah ! I believe ! 
 
 Now the giddy world stands fast, 
 
 Now my soul has found an anchor 
 Till the night of storm is past. 
 
 All the gloomy mists are rising, 
 
 And the clew is in my hand, 
 
 Through earth’s labyrinth to guide me 
 To a bright and heavenly land. 
 
 Hallelujah ! I believe ! 
 
 Sorrow’s bitterness is o’er, 
 
 And affliction’s heavy burden 
 Weighs my spirit down no more. 
 
 On the cross the mystic writing 
 Now reveal’d before me lies. 
 
 And I read the words of comfort, 
 
 ‘As a father, I chastise.’ 
 
 Hallelujah ! I believe ! 
 
 Now no longer on my soul 
 All the debt of sin is lying : 
 
 One great Friend has paid the whole ! 
 Ice-bound fields of legal labour 
 I have left with all their toil, 
 
 While the fruits of love are growing 
 From a new and genial soil. 
 
 Hallelujah ! I believe ! 
 
 Now life’s mystery is gone ; 
 
 Gladly through its fleeting shadows 
 To the end I journey on. 
 
 Through the tempest or the sunshine, 
 
 Over flowers or ruins led, 
 
 Still the path is hojneward hasting, 
 
 Where all sorrow shall have fled. 
 
 Hallelujah ! I believe ! 
 
 Now, O Love ! I know Thy power 
 Thine no false or fragile fetters, 
 
 Not the rose-wreaths of an hour! 
 
 Christian bonds of holy union 
 Death itself does not destroy ; 
 
 Yes, to live and love for ever, 
 
 Is our heritage of joy !— Mihves. 
 
 1159. FAITH. Christian 
 
 Hear, then, what faith, 
 
 True, Christian faith, which brought salvation, was. 
 Belief in all that God reveal’d to men : 
 
 Observe-—in all that God reveal’d to men ; 
 
 In all He promised, threaten’d, commanded, said, 
 Without exception, and without a doubt. 
 
 Who thus believed, being by the Spirit touch’d, 
 
 As naturally the fruits of faith produced— 
 
 Truth, temperance, meekness, holiness, and love— 
 As human eye from darkness sought the light. 
 
 How could he else ? If he who had firm faith 
 The morrow’s sun should rise, order’d affairs 
 Accordingly ; if he who had firm faith 
 That spring, and summer, and autumnal days 
 Should pass away, and winter really come, 
 Prepared accordingly ; if he who saw 
 A bolt of death approaching, turn’d aside 
 And let it pass ; as surely did the man 
 Who verily believed the word of God, 
 
 Though erring whiles, its general laws obey, 
 
 Turn back from hell, and take the way to heaven. 
 
 Pollok. 
 
 j 1160. FAITH. Consolation of 
 
 Beloved, it is well : 
 
 God’s ways are always right; 
 
 And love is o’er them all, 
 
 Though far above our sight. 
 
 Beloved, it is well : 
 
 Though deep and sore the smart, 
 
 He wounds, who knows and cares 
 - To heal the broken heart. 
 
 Beloved, it is well : 
 
 Though grief benight our way, 
 
 ’Twill make the joy more dear 
 That comes with dawning day. 
 
FAITH 
 
 235 
 
 FAITH 
 
 
 Beloved, it is well: 
 
 , The path that Jesus trod, 
 
 Though rough and dark it be, 
 
 Leads home to heaven and God. 
 
 1161. FAITH. Co-operating with 
 
 Lo ! when the boatman stems the flowing tide, 
 
 And aims direct his little boat to guide ; 
 
 With both oars working he can headway make, 
 
 And leave the waters foaming in his wake ; 
 
 But if one oar within the boat he lays, 
 
 In useless circles round and round he plays. 
 
 So faith and works, when both together brought, 
 With mighty power and heavenly life are fraught, 
 
 To help the Christian on his arduous road, 
 
 And urge him forward on his way to God : 
 
 If faith or works, no matter which, he drops, 
 
 Short of his journey’s end he surely stops.— Holmes. 
 
 1162. FAITH. Deeds of 
 
 Never was a marvel done upon the earth, but it had 
 sprung of faith ; 
 
 Nothing noble, generous, or great, but faith was the 
 root of the achievement; 
 
 Nothing comely, nothing famous, but its praise is 
 faith. 
 
 Leonidas fought in human faith as Joshua in divine : 
 Xenophon trusted to his skill, and the sons of Matta- 
 thias to their cause ; 
 
 In faith Columbus found a path across those untried 
 waters : 
 
 The heroines of Arc and Saragossa fought in earthly 
 faith: 
 
 Margaret by faith was valiant for her son, and Wal¬ 
 lace mighty for his people : 
 
 Faith in his reason made Socrates sublime, as faith 
 in his science, Galileo : 
 
 Ambassadors in faith are bold, and unreproved for 
 boldness ; 
 
 Faith urged Fabius to delays, and sent forth Hanni¬ 
 bal to Cannae ; 
 
 Caesar at the Rubicon, Miltiades at Marathon ; both 
 were sped by faith. — Tupper. 
 
 1163. FAITH. Defective 
 
 His faith perhaps in some nice tenets might 
 Be wrong, his life I’m sure was in the right. 
 
 Cowley. 
 
 1164. FAITH. Elevation of 
 
 The pious man 
 
 In this bad world, where mists and couchant storms 
 Hide heaven’s fine circlet, springs aloft in faith 
 Above the clouds that threat him, to the fields 
 
 Of ether, where the day is never veil’d 
 With intervening vapours ; and looks down 
 Serene upon the troublous sea that hides 
 The earth’s fair breast, that sea whose nether face 
 To grovelling mortals frowns and darkens all; 
 
 But on whose billowy back, from man conceal’d, 
 The glaring sunbeam plays.— Henry Kirke White. 
 
 1165. FAITH: essential to happiness. 
 
 If forced from faith, for ever miserable : 
 
 For what is misery but want of God ? 
 
 And God is lost if faith be overthrown. 
 
 Soliman and Perseda. 
 
 1166. FAITH. Gift of 
 
 O faith, thou workest miracles 
 Upon the hearts of men, 
 
 Choosing thy home in those same hearts 
 We know not how or when. 
 
 O gift of gifts ! O grace of faith ! 
 
 My God ! how can it be 
 
 That Thou, who hast discerning love, 
 Shouldst give that gift to me ? 
 
 There was a place, there was a time. 
 Whither by night or day, 
 
 Thy Spirit came and left that gift, 
 
 And went upon His way. 
 
 How many hearts Thou mightst have had 
 More innocent than mine ! 
 
 Plow many souls more worthy far 
 Of that sweet touch of Thine ! 
 
 Ah, grace ! unto unlikeliest hearts 
 It is Thy boast to come, 
 
 The glory of Thy light to find 
 In darkest spots a home. 
 
 How will they die, how will they die, 
 
 How bear the cross of grief, 
 
 Who have not got the light of faith, 
 
 The courage of belief? 
 
 The crowd of cares, the weightiest cross, 
 Seem trifles less than light, 
 
 Earth looks so little and so low, 
 
 When faith shines full and bright. 
 
 O happy, happy that I am ! 
 
 If thou canst be, O faith ! 
 
 The treasure that thou art in life, 
 
 What wilt thou be in death ? 
 
 F. W. Faber. 
 
 1167. FAITH. Growth of 
 
 From purer manners to sublimer faith 
 Is nature’s unavoidable ascent; 
 
FAITH 
 
 236 
 
 An honest deist, where the gospel shines, 
 Matured to nobler, in the Christian ends. 
 
 Young. 
 
 1168. FAITH : independent of forms. 
 
 True faith nor biddeth nor abideth form. 
 
 The bended knee, the eye uplift, is all 
 
 Which man need render; all which God can bear. 
 
 M hat to the faith are forms ? A passing speck, 
 
 A crow upon the sky.— Bailey. 
 
 1169. FAITH: independent of reason and tradi¬ 
 
 tion. 
 
 If faith with reason never doth advise, 
 
 Nor yet tradition leads her, she is then 
 Fiom heaven inspired ; and secretly grows wise 
 Above the schools, we know not how, nor when. 
 
 Davenant. 
 
 1170. FAITH : its vision intermittent. 
 
 How should I praise Thee, Lord ! how should my 
 rhymes 
 
 Gladly engrave Thy love on steel, 
 
 If what my soul doth feel sometimes, 
 
 My soul might ever feel ! 
 
 Although there were some fourtie heavens, or more, 
 Sometimes I peere above them all; 
 
 Sometimes I hardly reach a score, 
 
 Sometimes to hell I fall. 
 
 O rack me not to such a vast extent ! 
 
 Those distances belong to Thee : 
 
 The world’s too little for Thy tent, 
 
 A grave too big for me. 
 
 M ilt Thou meet arms with man, that Thou dost 
 stretch 
 
 A crunime of dust from heaven to hell ? 
 
 \\ ill great God measure such a wretch ? 
 
 Shall he Thy stature spell ? 
 
 O let me, when Thy roof my soul hath hid, 
 
 O let me roost and nestle there ! 
 
 Then of a sinner Thou art rid, 
 
 And I of hope and fear. 
 
 \ et take Thy way; for sure Thy way is best: 
 
 Stretch or contract me, Thy poore debtor; 
 
 This is but tuning of my breast, 
 
 To make the musick better. 
 
 Whether I flie with angels, fall with dust, 
 
 Thy hands made both, and I am there ; 
 
 Thy power and love, my love and trust, 
 
 Make one place everywhere.— George Hej-bert. 
 
 FAITH 
 
 11 7 1 - FAITH. Lesson of 
 
 Tauler, the preacher, walk’d, one autumn day, 
 M ithout the walls of Strasburg, by the Rhine, 
 Pondering the solemn miracle of life ; 
 
 As one who, wandering in a starless night, 
 
 Feels, momently, the jar of unseen waves, 
 
 And hears the thunder of an unknown sea, 
 Breaking along an unimagined shore. 
 
 And as he walk’d he pray’d. Even the same 
 Old prayer with which, for half a score of years, 
 Morning, and noon, and evening, lip and heart 
 Had groan’d : ‘ Have pity upon me, Lord ! 
 
 Thou seest, while teaching others, I am blind_ 
 
 Send me a man who can direct my steps !’ 
 
 Then, as he mused, he heard along his path 
 A sound as of an old man’s staff among 
 The dry, dead linden leaves; and looking up, 
 
 He saw a stranger, weak, and poor, and old. 
 
 Peace be unto thee, father! ’ Tauler said ; 
 
 Lod give thee a good day! ’ The old man raised 
 Slowly his calm blue eyes: £ I thank thee, son ; 
 
 But all my days are good, and none are ill.’ 
 
 Wondering thereat, the preacher spake again, 
 
 God give thee happy life ! ’ The old man smiled, 
 
 ‘ I never am unhappy..’ 
 
 Tauler laid 
 
 His hand upon the stranger’s coarse, grey sleeve : 
 Tell me, O father, what thy strange words mean. 
 Surely man’s days are evil, and His life 
 Sad as the grave it leads to.’ ‘ Nay, my son, 
 
 Our times are in God’s hands, and all our days 
 Are as our needs : for shadow as for sun, 
 
 For cold as heat, for want as wealth, alike 
 Our thanks are due, since that is best which is : 
 
 And that which is not, sharing not His life, 
 
 Is evil only as devoid of good. 
 
 And for the happiness of which I spake, 
 
 I find it in submission to His will, 
 
 And calm trust in the holy Trinity 
 Of Knowledge, Goodness, and Almighty power. ’ 
 
 Silently wondering for a little space, 
 
 Stood the great preacher; then he spake as one 
 M ho, suddenly grappling with a haunting thought 
 W hich long has follow’d whispering through the 
 dark, 
 
 Strange terrors, drags it shrieking, into light : 
 
 ‘ ^ hat if God’s will consign thee hence to Hell?’ 
 
 ‘ Then,’ said the stranger, cheerily, ‘ be it so. 
 
 What Hell may be, I know not; this I know : 
 
 I cannot lose the presence of the Lord ; 
 
 One arm, Humility, takes hold upon 
 
FAITH 
 
 2 37 
 
 FAITH 
 
 His dear Humanity ; the other, Love, 
 
 Clasps His Divinity. So where I go 
 
 He goes ; and better fire-wall’d Hell with Him 
 
 Than golden-gated Paradise without. ’ 
 
 Tears sprang in Tauler’s eyes. A sudden light, 
 Like the first ray which fell on chaos, clove 
 Apart the shadow wherein he had walk’d 
 Darkly at noon. And, as the strange old man 
 Went his slow way, until his silver hair 
 Seem’d like the white moon where the hills of vine 
 Slope to the Rhine, he bow’d his head, and said : 
 
 ‘ My prayer is answer’d. God hath sent the man 
 Long sought, to teach me, by his simple trust, 
 Wisdom the weary schoolmen never knew.’ 
 
 So, entering with a changed and cheerful step 
 The city gates, he saw, far down the street, 
 
 A mighty shadow break the light of noon, 
 
 Which tracing backward till its airy lines 
 Harden’d to stony plinths, he raised his eyes 
 O’er broad facade and lofty pediment, 
 
 O’er architrave and frieze and sainted niche, 
 
 Up the stone lacework, chisell’d by the wise 
 Erwin of Steinbach, dizzily up to where 
 In the noon brightness the great minster’s tower, 
 Jewell’d with sunbeams on its mural crown, 
 
 Rose like a visible prayer. ‘ Behold! ’ he said, 
 
 ‘ The stranger’s faith made plain before mine eyes. 
 As yonder tower outstretches to the earth 
 The dark triangle of its shade alone, 
 
 When the clear day is shining on its top, 
 
 So, darkness in the pathway of man’s life 
 Is but the shadow of God’s providence, 
 
 By the great Sun of Wisdom cast thereon ; 
 
 And what is dark below is light in-heaven.’ 
 
 Whittier. 
 
 1172. FAITH. Life of 
 
 If I could live on lofty heights 
 Of holiness and prayer— 
 
 If there were noble deeds to do, 
 
 Or dangers I might dare— 
 
 / 
 
 Ah, then my Christian life would seem 
 More truly worth the name ; 
 
 Each outward act might then express 
 Some high and heavenly aim. 
 
 But mine are just the common tasks 
 That daily must be done; 
 
 And simple duties fill the hours 
 From morn till set of sun. 
 
 No martyr’s crown for me may glow, 
 
 No hero’s fame be mine ; 
 
 Yet I would walk as He directs, 
 
 Who is my Guide Divine. 
 
 If I may hold the hand of Faith, 
 
 I will not ask to see ; 
 
 Though I but glean where others reap, 
 Content I still will be ; 
 
 Nor murmur that to me God’s will 
 The higher task denies ; 
 
 Though lowly be the way He points, 
 
 That way my duty lies.— Buck. 
 
 1173. FAITH. Offspring of 
 
 Therefore love and believe, for works will follow 
 spontaneous, 
 
 Even as the day the sun ; the right from the good is 
 an offspring, 
 
 Love is a bodily shape ; and Christian works are no 
 more than 
 
 Animate faith and love, as flowers are the animate 
 spring-tide.— Longfellow. 
 
 1174. FAITH. Our Fathers’ 
 
 Faith of our fathers ! living still 
 
 In spite of dungeon, fire, and sword; 
 
 Oh how our hearts beat high with joy 
 • Whene’er we hear that glorious word ; 
 
 Faith of our fathers! Holy Faith ! 
 
 We will be true to thee till death. 
 
 Our fathers chain’d in prisons dark, 
 
 Were still in heart and conscience free; 
 
 How sweet would be their children’s fate, 
 
 If they, like them, could die for thee ! 
 
 Faith of our fathers ! Holy Faith ! 
 
 We will be true to thee till death. 
 
 Faith of our fathers ! we will love 
 Both friend and foe in all our strife ; 
 
 And preach thee, too, as love knows how, 
 
 By kindly words and virtuous life ; 
 
 Faith of our fathers ! Holy Faith ! 
 
 We will be true to thee till death.— Faber. 
 
 1175. FAITH: our present portion. 
 
 Strong Son of God, immortal Love, 
 
 Whom we, that have not seen Thy face, 
 
 By faith, and faith alone, embrace, 
 
 Believing where we cannot prove ; 
 
 Thine are these orbs of light and shade ; 
 
 Thou madest life in man and brute ; 
 
 Thou madest death ; and lo ! Thy foot 
 Is on the skull which Thou hast made. 
 
 Thou wilt not leave us in the dust : 
 
 Thou madest man, he knows not why ; 
 
 He thinks he was not made to die; 
 
 And Thou hast made him,—Thou art just. 
 
FAITH 
 
 238 
 
 FAITH 
 
 Thou seemest human and Divine; 
 
 The highest, holiest manhood, Thou : 
 
 Our wills are ours, we know not how ; 
 
 Our wills are ours, to make them Thine. 
 
 Our little systems have their day ; 
 
 They have their day, and cease to be: 
 
 They are but broken lights of Thee, 
 
 And Thou, O Lord, art more than they. 
 
 We have but faith : we cannot know ; 
 
 For knowledge is of things we see ; 
 
 And yet we trust it comes from Thee, 
 
 A beam in darkness : let it grow ! 
 
 Let knowledge grow from more to more, 
 
 But more of reverence in us dwell; 
 
 That mind and soul, according well, 
 
 May make one music as before, 
 
 But vaster. We are fools and slight ; 
 
 We mock Thee when we do not fear ; 
 
 But help Thy foolish ones to bear ; 
 
 Help Thy vain worlds to bear Thy light ! 
 
 Tennyson. 
 
 1176. FAITH. Power of 
 
 Faith builds a bridge across the gulf of death, 
 To break the shock which nature cannot shun, 
 And lands thought smoothly on the farther shore. 
 
 Young. 
 
 Triumphant faith ! 
 
 Who, from the distant earth, looks up to heaven, 
 Seeing invisibility, suspending 
 Eternity from the breath of God. 
 
 She can pluck mountains from their rooted thrones, 
 And hurl them into ocean ; and from pain, 
 
 And prisons, and contempt, extort the palm 
 Of everlasting triumph. She doth tread 
 Upon the neck of pride, like the free wind* 
 
 On angry ocean. Lo ! with step erect 
 She walks o’er whirlpool waves and martyr fires, 
 And depths of darkness and chaotic voids ; 
 Dissolving worlds, rent heavens, and dying suns ; 
 Yea, and o’er paradises of earth’s bliss, 
 
 And oceans of earth’s gold, and pyramids 
 And temples of earth’s glory ; all these she spurns 
 With feet fire-shod, because her hand is placed 
 Immovably in God’s; her eye doth rest 
 Unchangeably on His : nor,will she stop 
 Till, having cross’d the stormy waves of pain 
 And fiery trial, she may lay her head 
 Upon her Father’s breast and take the crown 
 From love’s rejoicing hand.— Tatham. 
 
 1177* FAITH. Prayer for 
 
 I ask not, take away this weight of care ; 
 
 No, for that love I pray, that all can bear ; 
 
 And for the faith that whatsoe’ePbefall 
 
 Must needs be good, and for my profit prove, 
 Since from my Father’s heart, most rich in love, 
 And from His bounteous hands it cometh all. 
 
 I ask not that my course be calm and still; 
 
 No, here too, Lord, be done Thy holy will; 
 
 I ask but for a quiet child-like heart; 
 
 Though thronging cares and restless toil be mine, 
 Yet may my heart remain for ever Thine ; 
 
 Draw it from earth and fix it where Thou art. 
 
 I ask Thee not to finish soon the strife, 
 
 The toil, the trouble of this earthly life ; 
 
 No, be my peace amid its grief and pain ; 
 
 I pray not, grant me now Thy realm on high ; 
 
 No, ere I die let me to evil die, 
 
 And through Thy Cross my sins be wholly slain. 
 
 Spitta. 
 
 1178. FAITH. Reasonable 
 
 When the soul grants what reason makes her see, 
 That is true faith, what’s more’s credulity. 
 
 Fane. 
 
 1179. FAITH. Reasons for 
 
 I’ll ne’er distrust my God for cloth and bread,' 
 While lilies flourish, and the raven’s fed. 
 
 Quarles. 
 
 1180. FAITH. Reverent 
 
 Thy throne is darkness in the abyss of light, 
 
 A blaze of glory that forbids the sight; 
 
 Oh teach me to believe Thee thus conceal’d, 
 And search no further than Thyself reveal’d. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 1181. FAITH. Rewards of 
 
 Now God be praised, that to believing souls 
 Gives light in darkness, comfort in despair. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 The childlike faith that asks not sight, 
 
 Waits not for wonder or for sign, 
 
 Believes, because it loves, aright, 
 
 Shall see things greater, things Divine. 
 Heaven to that gaze shall open wide, 
 
 And brightest angels to and fro 
 On messages of love shall glide 
 ’Twixt God and Christ below.— Keble. 
 
 1182. FAITH. Salvation by 
 
 If bliss had lain in art or strength, 
 
 None but the wise and strong had gain’d it: 
 
 Where now by faith all arms are of a length; 
 
 One size doth all conditions fit. * 
 
 A peasant may believe as much 
 As a great clerk, and reach the highest stature. 
 
FAITH 
 
 239 
 
 FAITH 
 
 Thus dost Thou make proud knowledge bend and 
 couch, 
 
 While grace fills up uneven nature.— Herbert. 
 
 1183. FAITH. Saved by 
 
 Now the third and fatal conflict for the Persian 
 throne was done, 
 
 And the Moslem’s fiery valour had the crowning 
 victory won. 
 
 Harmosan, the last and boldest the invader to defy, 
 
 Captive, overborne by numbers, they were bringing 
 forth to die. 
 
 Then exclaim’d that noble captive: ‘ Lo, I perish in 
 my thirst; 
 
 Give me but one drink of water, and let then arrive 
 the worst! ’ 
 
 . In his hand he took the goblet; but awhile the 
 draught forbore, 
 
 Seeming doubtfully the purpose of the foeman to 
 explore. 
 
 Well might then have paused the bravest, — for 
 around him, angry foes 
 
 With a hedge of naked weapons did that lonely man 
 enclose. 
 
 ‘ But what fear’st thou ? ’ cried the caliph ; ‘ is it, 
 friend, a secret blow ? 
 
 Fear it not! our gallant Moslems no such treach¬ 
 erous dealing know. 
 
 ‘ Thou mayst quench thy thirst securely, for thou 
 shalt not die before 
 
 Thou hast drunk that cup of water,—this reprieve is 
 thine—no more ! ’ 
 
 Quick the satrap dash’d the goblet down to earth 
 with ready hand, 
 
 And the liquid sank for ever, lost amid the burning 
 sand. 
 
 ‘Thou hast said that mine my life is, till the water 
 of that cup 
 
 I have drain’d ; then bid thy servants that spill’d 
 water gather up !' 
 
 For a moment stood the caliph as by doubtful 
 passions stirr’d ; 
 
 Then exclaim’d, ‘ For ever sacred must remain a 
 monarch’s word. 
 
 * Bring another cup, and straightway to the noble 
 Persian give: 
 
 Drink, I said before, and perish, —now I bid thee 
 drink and live ! ’— Trench. 
 
 1184. FAITH: triumphing. 
 
 I will not let Thee go, Thou Help in time of need ! 
 Heap ill on ill, 
 
 I trust Thee still, 
 
 E’en when it seems as Thou would’st slay indeed ! 
 Do as Thou wilt with me, 
 
 I yet will cling to Thee ; 
 
 Hide Thou Thy face,—yet, Help in time of need, 
 
 I will not let Thee go ! 
 
 I will not let Thee go.—Should I forsake my bliss? 
 No, Lord, Thou’rt mine, 
 
 And I am Thine, 
 
 Thee will I hold when all things else I miss. 
 
 Though dark and sad the night, 
 
 Joy cometh with the light; 
 
 O Thou my Sun, should I forsake my bliss ? 
 
 I will not let Thee go ! 
 
 I will not let Thee go, my God, my Life, my Lord ! 
 Not death can tear 
 Me from His care, 
 
 Who for my sake His soul in death outpour’d. 
 
 Thou diedst for love to me ; 
 
 I say, in love to Thee, 
 
 E’en when my heart shall break, my God, my Life, 
 my Lord, 
 
 I will not let Thee go ! 
 
 1185. FAITH. Triumph of 
 
 The pious man 
 
 In this bad world, when mists and couchant storms 
 Hide heaven’s fine circlet, springs aloft in faith 
 Above the clouds that threat him, to the fields 
 Of ether, where the day is never veil’d 
 With intervening vapours, and looks down 
 Serene upon the troublous sea, which hides 
 The earth’s fair breast; that sea whose nether face 
 To grovelling mortals frowns and darkens all, 
 
 But on whose billowy back, from man conceal’d, 
 The glowing sunbeams play.— II. K. White. 
 
 1186. FAITH : unites us to God. 
 
 Faith is the subtle chain 
 That binds us to the Infinite: the voice 
 Of a deep life within, that will remain 
 Until we crowd it thence. 
 
 Mrs E. O. Smith. 
 
 1187. FAITH. Walking by 
 
 We walk by faith and not by sight; 
 
 No gracious words we hear 
 From Him who spoke as never man, 
 
 But we believe Him near. 
 
FAITHFULNESS 
 
 240 
 
 FAITHFULNESS 
 
 We may not touch His hands and side 
 Nor follow where He trod ; 
 
 But in His promise we rejoice, 
 
 And cry, ‘ My Lord and God ! ’ 
 
 Help Thou, 0 Lord, our unbelief: 
 
 And may our faith abound, 
 
 To call on Thee when Thou art near, 
 
 And seek where Thou art found: 
 
 That, when our life of faith is done, 
 
 In realms of clearer light 
 
 We may behold Thee as Thou art, 
 
 With full and endless sight.— Alford. 
 
 1188. FAITHFULNESS. Angelic 
 
 The seraph Abdiel, faithful found 
 Among the faithless, faithful only he ; 
 
 Among innumerable false, unmoved, 
 
 Unshaken, unseduced, unterrified, 
 
 His loyalty he kept, his love, his zeal; 
 
 Nor number, nor example with him wrought 
 To swerve from truth, or change his constant mind, 
 Though single. From amidst them forth he pass’d, 
 Long way through hostile scorn, which he sustain’d 
 Superior, nor of violence feared aught; 
 
 And with retorted scorn his back he turn’d 
 On those proud towers to swift destruction doom’d. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 1189. FAITHFULNESS. Example of 
 
 Each day his face grew thinner, and sweeter, 
 saintlier grew, 
 
 And day by day they saw the soul fast burning into 
 view: 
 
 And higher, each day higher, did the life-flame 
 heavenward climb, 
 
 Like sad, sweet sunshine up the wall, that for the 
 sunset time 
 
 Still watches, and the signal that shall call it hence 
 is given 
 
 Even so his spirit kept the watch till beckon’d home 
 to heaven. 
 
 War-worn and wasted ! yet his eyes were soft and 
 satisfied ; 
 
 His work was done : and in the arms of Victory he 
 died ; 
 
 Dropping the flesh-robe, with a smile, so gently did 
 he pass— 
 
 Gently as spirits of the flowers from out the new- 
 mown grass: 
 
 ‘ Havelock’s dead ! ’ and darkness fell on every up¬ 
 turn’d face; ' 
 
 The Shadow of an Angel going from its earthly 
 place. 
 
 Honour to Henry Havelock ! though not of kingly 
 blood, 
 
 He wore the double royalty of being Great and 
 Good. 
 
 He lean'd a trusting hand on Heaven, a gentle heart 
 on Home ; 
 
 In secret he grew ready, ere the Judgment-hour had 
 come. 
 
 He rose up in our cruel need, and towering on he 
 trod, 
 
 Baring his brow to battle bold as humbly to his 
 God ! 
 
 He rose, and reach’d the topmost height, our Hero 
 lowly born ! 
 
 So from the lowly grass hath grown the proud em¬ 
 battled corn. 
 
 No swerving, as he walk’d along the roaring earth¬ 
 quake ridge: 
 
 He made a way for victory: his body was her 
 bridge. 
 
 One of the Chivalry of Christ! he taught us how to 
 stand 
 
 With rootage like the Palm, amid the maddest whirl 
 of sand. 
 
 He did his work, nor thought of nations ringing with 
 his name, 
 
 He walk’d with God, and talk’d with God, nor cared 
 if following Fame 
 
 Should find him working in the field, or sleeping 
 underground: 
 
 Nor did he mind what resting-place, with Heaven 
 embracing round .—Gerald Massey. 
 
 1190. FAITHFULNESS. Reward of 
 
 The deeds which selfish hearts approve 
 And fame’s loud trumpet sings, 
 
 Secure no praise, where truth and love 
 Are counted noblest things ; 
 
 And work which godless folly deems 
 Worthless, obscure, and lowly, 
 
 To Heaven’s ennobling vision seems 
 Most god-like, grand, and holy. 
 
 Then murmur not, if toils obscure, 
 
 And thorny paths be thine ; 
 
 To God be true—they shall secure 
 The joy of life Divine 
 Who in the darkest, sternest sphere 
 For Him their powers employ ; 
 
 The toils contemn’d and slighted here 
 Shall yield the purest joy. 
 
 When endless day dispels the strife 
 Which blinds and darkens now, 
 
FALL 
 
 241 
 
 FALLEN 
 
 Perchance the brightest crown of life 
 Shall deck some lowly brow. 
 
 Then learn, despite thy boding fears, 
 
 From seed with sorrow sown, 
 
 In lone obscurity and tears 
 
 The richest sheaves are grown.— Dewart. 
 
 1191. FALL. Compensation of the 
 
 O Life ! without thy checker’d scene 
 Of right and wrong, of weal and woe, 
 
 Success and failure, could a ground 
 For magnanimity be found; 
 
 For Faith, ’mid ruin’d hopes, serene? 
 
 Or whence could virtue flow? 
 
 Pain enter’d through a ghastly breach— 
 
 Nor while sin lasts, must effort cease ; 
 Heaven upon earth’s an empty boast ; 
 
 But, for the bowers of Eden lost, 
 
 Mercy has placed within our reach 
 
 A portion of God’s peace.— Wordsworth. 
 
 . 1192. FALL. Responsibility of the 
 
 Him God beholding from His prospect high, 
 Wherein past, present, future He beholds, 
 
 Thus to His only Son foreseeing spake : 
 
 ‘ Only begotten Son, seest Thou what rage 
 Transports our Adversary ? whom no bounds 
 Prescribed, no bars of hell, nor all the chains 
 Heap’d on him there, nor yet the main abyss 
 Wide interrupt can hold ; so bent he seems 
 On desperate revepge, that shall redound 
 Upon his own rebellious head. And now 
 Through all restraint broke loose he wings his way 
 Not far off heaven, in the precincts of light, 
 
 Directly tow’rds the new created world, 
 
 And man there placed, with purpose to assay 
 If him by force he can destroy, or worse, 
 
 By some false guile pervert; and shall pervert, 
 
 For man will hearken to his glozing lies, 
 
 And easily transgress the sole command, 
 
 Sole pledge of his obedience : so will fall 
 He and his faithless progeny: Whose fault? 
 
 Whose but his own ? Ingrate, he had of Me 
 All he could have ; I made him just and right, 
 Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall. 
 
 Such I created all th’ ethereal powers 
 And spirits, both them who stood, and them who 
 fail’d 
 
 Freely they stood who stood, and fell who fell 
 Not free, what proof could they have given sincere 
 Of true allegiance, constant faith or love, 
 
 Where only what they needs must do appear’d, 
 
 Not what they would? what praise could they re¬ 
 ceive ? 
 
 What pleasure I from such obedience paid, 
 
 When will and reason (reason also is choice), 
 Useless and vain, of freedom both despoil’d, 
 
 Made passive both, had served necessity, 
 
 Not me ? They therefore as to right belong’d, 
 
 So were created, nor can justly accuse 
 Their Maker, or their making, or their fate, 
 
 As if predestination overruled 
 
 Their will, disposed by absolute decree 
 
 Or high foreknowledge ; they themselves decreed 
 
 I heir own revolt, not I; if I foreknew, 
 
 Foreknowledge had no influence on their fault, 
 
 Which had no less proved certain unforeknown. 
 
 So without least impulse or shadow of fate 
 Or aught by me immutably foreseen, 
 
 They trespass, authors to themselves in all 
 
 Both what they judge and what they choose; for so 
 
 I form’d them free, and free they must remain, 
 
 Till they enthrall themselves ; I else must change 
 Their nature, and revoke the high decree 
 Unchangeable, eternal, which ordain’d 
 I heir freedom : they themselves ordain’d their fall.’ 
 
 Alii ton. 
 
 1193. FALL. Surviving the 
 
 What is the greatness of a fallen king ? 
 
 This—that his fall avails not to abate 
 His spirit to a level with his fate, 
 
 Or inward fall along with it to bring; 
 
 That he disdains to stoop his former wing, 
 
 But keeps in exile and in want the law 
 Of kingship yet, and counts it scorn to draw 
 Comfort indign from any meaner thing. 
 
 Soul, that art fallen from thine ancient place, 
 
 Mayest thou in this mean world find nothing great, 
 Nor aught that shall the memories efface 
 Of that true greatness which was once thine own, 
 
 As knowing thou must keep thy kingly state, 
 
 As if thou wouldst reascend thy kingly throne. 
 
 Trench. 
 
 1194. FALLEN. Treatment of the 
 
 Grim-hearted world, that look’st with Levite eyes 
 On those poor fallen by too much faith in man, 
 She that upon thy freezing threshold lies, 
 
 Starved to more sinning by thy savage ban,— 
 Seeking that refuge because foulest vice 
 
 More godlike than thy virtue is, whose span 
 Shuts out the wretched only,—is more free 
 From all her crimes than thou wilt ever be. 
 
 Thou wilt not let her wash thy dainty feet 
 
 With such salt things as tears, or with rude hair 
 Dry them, soft Pharisee, that sit’st at meat 
 
 With him who made her such, and speak’st him 
 
FALSEHOOD 
 
 242 
 
 FAME 
 
 Leaving God’s wandering lamb the while to bleat 
 Unheeded, shivering in the pitiless air : 
 
 Thou hast made prison’d virtue show more wan 
 And haggard, than a vice to look upon.— Lowell. 
 
 1195. FALSEHOOD. 
 
 How false are men, both in their heads and hearts ; 
 And there is falsehood in all trades and arts. 
 
 Lawyers deceive their clients by false law ; 
 
 Priests, by false gods, keep all the world in awe. 
 
 For their false tongues such flatt’ring knaves are 
 raised, 
 
 For their false wit, scribblers by fools are praised. 
 
 Crown. 
 
 Every man in this age has not a soul 
 Of crystal for all men to read their actions 
 Through : men’s hearts and faces are so far asunder. 
 That they hold no intelligence. 
 
 Beau 7 nont and Fletcher. 
 
 What wit so sharp is found in age or youth, 
 
 That can distinguish truth from treachery ? 
 Falsehood puts on the face of simple truth, 
 
 And masks i’ th’ habit of plain honesty, 
 
 When she in heart intends most villany. 
 
 Mirror for Magistrates. 
 
 As folks, quoth Richard, prone to leasing, 
 
 Say things at first because they’re pleasing ; 
 Then prove what they have once asserted, 
 
 Nor care to have their lie deserted : 
 
 Till their own dreams at length deceive them. 
 And, oft repeating, they believe them.— Piior. 
 
 So the false spider, when her nets are spread. 
 Deep ambush’d in her silent den does lie. 
 
 Dryden 
 
 Observe the wretch who hath his faith forsook, 
 How clear his voice, and how assured his look! 
 Like innocence, and as serenely bold 
 As truth, how loudly he forswears thy gold ! 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 I scorn this hated scene 
 Of masking and disguise, 
 
 Where men on men still gleam, 
 
 With falseness in their eyes ; 
 
 Where all is counterfeit, 
 
 And truth hath never say ; 
 
 Where hearts themselves do cheat, 
 
 Concealing hope’s decay.— Motherwell. 
 
 The man of pure and simple heart 
 Through life disdains a double part. 
 
 He never needs the screen of lies 
 His inward bosom to disguise.— Gay. 
 
 1196. FAME. Brevity of 
 
 Where is the fame 
 Which the vain-glorious mighty of the earth 
 Seek to eternize? Oh! the faintest sound 
 From time’s light footfall, the minutest wave 
 That swells the flood of ages, whelms in nothing 
 The unsubstantial bubble. Aye, to-day 
 Stem is the tyrant’s mandate, red the gaze 
 That flashes desolation, strong the arm 
 That scatters multitudes. To-morrow comes ! 
 
 That mandate is a thunder-peal that died 
 In ages past; that gaze, a transient flash 
 On which the midnight closed, and on that ami 
 The worm has made his meal.— Shelley. 
 
 Sepulchral columns wrestle, but in vain, 
 
 With all-subduing time ; her cankering hand 
 With calm deliberate malice wasteth them : 
 
 Worn on the edge of days, the brass consumes, 
 The busto moulders, and the deep-cut marble, 
 Unsteady, to the steel, gives up its charge. 
 Ambition, half-convicted of her folly, 
 
 Hangs down the hand and reddens at the tale. 
 
 Blair. 
 
 Absurd ! to think to over-reach the grave, 
 
 And from the wreck of names to rescue ours : 
 
 The best-concerted schemes men lay for fame 
 Die fast away : only themselves die faster. 
 
 The far-famed sculptor, and the laurell’d bard, 
 Those bold insurers of eternal fame, 
 
 Supply their little feeble aids in vain.— Blair. 
 
 And what is fame ? the meanest have their day ; 
 The greatest can but blaze, and pass away. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 ‘ Stern sons of war ! ’ sad Wilfrid sigh’d, 
 
 ‘ Behold the boast of Roman pride ! 
 
 What now of all your toils are known ? 
 
 A grassy trench, a broken stone! ’— Scott. 
 
 The very generations of the dead 
 
 Are swept away, and tomb inherits tomb, 
 
 Until the memory of an age is fled, 
 
 And, buried, sinks beneath its offspring’s doom. 
 
 Byron. I 
 
 1197. FAME: deserved. 
 
 But there are deeds which should not pass away, 
 And names that must not wither, though the earth ; 
 Forgets her empires with a just decay, 
 
 The enslavers and the enslaved, their death and * 
 birth ; 
 
 The high, the mountain majesty of worth 
 Should be, and shall, survivor of its woe, 
 
FAME 
 
 243 
 
 FAME 
 
 And from its immortality look forth 
 In the sun’s face, like yonder Alpine snow, 
 Imperishably pure beyond all things below.— Byron. 
 
 Yet vanity herself had better taught 
 A surer path even to the fame he sought, 
 
 By pointing out on history’s fruitless page 
 Ten thousand conquerors for a single sage, 
 
 * While Franklin’s quiet mem’ry climbs to heaven, 
 Calming the lightning which he thence had riven, 
 
 Or drawing from the no less kindled earth 
 Freedom and peace to that which boasts his birth ; 
 While Washington’s a watchword, such as ne’er 
 Shall sink while there’s an echo left to air.— Byron. 
 
 1198. FAME. Earthly 
 
 Of all the phantoms fleeting in the mist 
 Of Time, though meagre all, and ghostly thin, 
 
 Most unsubstantial, unessential shqde, 
 
 Was earthly Fame. She was a voice alone, 
 
 And dwelt upon the noisy tongues of men. 
 
 She never thought; but gabbled ever on ; 
 Applauding most what least deserved applause ; 
 
 The motive, the result was nought to her : 
 
 The deed alone, though dyed in human gore, 
 
 And steep’d in widow’s tears, if it stood out 
 To prominent display, she talk’d of such, 
 
 And roar’d around it with a thousand tongues. 
 
 As changed the wind her organ, so she changed 
 Perpetually: and whom she praised to-day, 
 
 Vexing his ear with acclamations loud, 
 
 To-morrow blamed, and hiss’d him out of sight. 
 
 Such was her nature, and her practice such : 
 
 But, oh ! her voice was sweet to mortal ears ; 
 
 And touch’d so pleasantly the strings of pride 
 And vanity, which in the heart of man 
 Were ever strung harmonious to her note, 
 
 That many thought to live without her song 
 Was rather death than life : to live unknown, 
 Unnoticed, unrenown’d ! to die unpraised ! 
 Unepitaph’d! to go down to the pit, 
 
 And moulder into dust among vile worms, 
 
 And leave no whispering of a name on earth ! 
 
 Such thought was cold about the heart, and chill’d 
 The blood. Who could endure it ? who could choose, 
 Without a struggle, to be swept away 
 From all remembrance, and have part no more 
 With living men ? Philosophy fail’d here ; 
 
 And self-approving pride. Hence it became 
 The aim of most, and main pursuit, to win 
 A name—to leave some vestige as they pass’d, 
 
 That following ages might discern they once 
 Had been on earth, and acted something there. 
 
 Many the roads they took, the plans they tried : 
 
 But all in vain. Who grasp’d at earthly fame, 
 Grasp’d wind : nay, worse, a serpent grasp’d, that 
 through 
 
 His hand slid smoothly, and was gone ; but left 
 A sting behind which wrought him endless pain : 
 
 For oft her voice was old Abaddon’s lure, 
 
 By which he charm’d the foolish soul to death. 
 
 Pollok. 
 
 XI 99 - FAME : excites detraction and envy. 
 
 Knows he, that mankind praise against their will, 
 And mix as much detraction as they can ? 
 
 Knows he, that faithless fame her whisper has, 
 
 As well as trumpet ? That his vanity 
 
 Is so much tickled from not hearing all ?— Young. 
 
 V ith fame, in just proportion, envy grows ; 
 
 1 he man that makes a character, makes foes. 
 
 Young. 
 
 1200. FAME: folly of its pursuit. 
 
 Talk not to me of fond renown, the rude, 
 Inconstant blast of the base multitude : 
 
 Their breaths*, nor souls, can satisfaction make, 
 
 For half the joys I part with for their sake. 
 
 Crown. 
 
 Vain empty words 
 
 Of honour, glory, and immortal fame, 
 
 Can these recall the spirit from its place, 
 
 Or re-in spire the breathless clay with life ? 
 
 What though your fame, with all its thousand 
 trumpets, 
 
 Sound o’er the sepulchres, will that awake 
 The sleeping dead ?— Sewell. 
 
 How vain that second life in others’ breath, 
 
 Th’ estate which wits inherit after death ! 
 
 Ease, health, and life for this they must resign ; 
 Unsure the tenure, but how vast the fine ! 
 
 The great man’s curse without the gain endure; 
 
 Be envied, wretched ; and be flatter’d, poor. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 What so foolish as the chase of fame ? 
 
 How vain the prize ! how impotent our aim ! 
 
 For what are men, who grasp at praise sublime, 
 
 But bubbles on the rapid stream of time, 
 
 That rise and fall, that swell, and are no more, 
 
 Born and forgot, ten thousand in an hour ? 
 
 Young. 
 
 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 ? cried Caesar at his height, 
 
 Disgusted.— Young. 
 
FAME 
 
 244 
 
 FAME 
 
 What is the end of fame ? ’tis but to fill 
 A certain portion of uncertain paper : 
 
 Some liken it to climbing up a hill, 
 
 Whose summit, like all hills, is lost in vapour: 
 
 For this men write, speak, preach, and heroes kill, 
 And bards burn what they call their ‘midnight 
 taper,’ 
 
 To have, when the original is dust, 
 
 A name, a wretched picture, and worse bust. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 ’Tis as a snow-ball which derives assistance 
 From every flake, and yet rolls on the same, 
 Even till an iceberg it may chance to grow ; 
 
 But after all ’tis nothing but cold snow. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 Gaze 
 
 Upon the shade of those distinguish’d men, 
 
 Who were or are the puppet-shows of praise— 
 The praise of persecution. Gaze again 
 
 On the most favour’d ; and amidst the blaze 
 Of sunset haloes o’er the laurel-brow’d, 
 
 What can ye recognize? a gilded cloud. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 Fame ! Fame ! thou canst not be the stay 
 Unto the drooping reed, 
 
 The cool fresh fountain in the day 
 Of the soul’s feverish need : 
 
 Where must the lone one turn or flee ? 
 
 Not unto thee, oh ! not to thee ! 
 
 Airs Hemans. 
 
 1201. FAME: leads men to crime. 
 
 Glory grows guilty of detested crimes, 
 
 When for fame’s sake, for praise, an outward part, 
 We bend to that the working of the heart. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 The selfish as a promise of advancement, at least to 
 a man’s own kin, 
 
 And common minds as a flattering fact, that men 
 have been told of their existence. — Tupper. 
 
 For fame the wretch beneath the gallows lies, 
 Disowning every crime for which he dies, 
 
 Of life profuse, tenacious of a name, 
 
 Fearless of death, and yet afraid of shame. 
 Nature has wove into the human mind 
 This anxious care of names we leave behind, 
 
 To extend our narrow views beyond the tomb, 
 And give an earnest of a life to come ; 
 
 For, if when dead, we are but dust or clay, 
 
 Why think of what posterity shall say ? 
 
 Her praise or censure cannot us concern, 
 
 Nor ever penetrate the silent urn. 
 
 Soame Jennyns. 
 
 1203. FAME : must be merited. 
 
 The fame that a man wins himself is best; 
 
 That he may call his own : honours put on him 
 Make him no more a man than his clothes do, 
 Which are as soon ta’en off; for in the warmth 
 The heat comes from the body, not the weeds ; 
 
 So man’s true fame must strike from his own deeds. 
 
 Aliddleton. 
 
 1204. FAME : must be waited for. 
 
 Of boasting more than of a bomb afraid, 
 
 A soldier should be modest as a maid : 
 
 Fame is a bubble the reserved enjoy ; 
 
 Who strive to grasp it, as they touch destroy; 
 ’Tis the world’s debt to deeds of high degree ; 
 But if you pay yourself, the world is free. 
 
 Young. 
 
 1205. FAME: of the wicked. 
 
 Yet this mad chase of fame, by few pursued, 
 Has drawn destruction on the multitude. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 1202. FAME. Lust of 
 
 He left the name, at which the world grew pale, 
 To point a moral, or adorn a tale.— Johnson. 
 
 1206. FAME: partial. 
 
 In all men, from the monarch to the menial, luyketh 
 lust of fame ; 
 
 The savage and the sage alike regard their labours 
 proudly: 
 
 Yea, in death, the glazing eye is illumined by the 
 hope of reputation, 
 
 And the stricken warrior is glad, that his wounds 
 are salved with glory. 
 
 The thoughtful loveth fame as an. earnest of better 
 
 o 
 
 immortality, 
 
 The industrious and deserving as a symbol of just 
 appreciation, 
 
 Ah me ! full sorely is my heart forlorn, 
 
 To think how modest worth neglected lies, 
 While partial fame doth with her blasts adorn 
 Such deeds alone as pride and pomp disguise, 
 Deeds of ill sort, and mischievous emprise. 
 
 Shenstone. 
 
 Will fortune, fame, my present ills relieve ? 
 
 And what is fame, that flutt’ring noisy sound, 
 
 But the cold lie of universal vogue ? 
 
 Thousands of men fall in the field of honour, 
 i Whose glorious deeds die in inglorious silence, 
 j Whilst vaunting cowards, favour’d by blind fortune 
 

 FAME 
 
 245 
 
 FAMIL V 
 
 Reap all the fruit of their successful toils, 
 
 And build their fame upon their noble ruins. 
 
 H. Smith. 
 
 1207. FAME. Posthumous 
 
 True fame’s a plant that seems to need 
 A body buried—for its seed ; 
 
 And ere the churlish sucklings thrive, 
 
 The parent-stock must cease to live. 
 
 The good, the great, the wise, the just, 
 
 Are little valued till they’re dust, 
 
 Nor till they mutter ‘Earth to eai'th,’ 
 
 Can men perceive another’s worth.— Colton. 
 
 1208. FAME. Power of 
 
 Oh ! who shall lightly say that fame 
 Is nothing but an empty name ? 
 
 Whilst in that sound there is a charm 
 The nerve to brace, the heart to warm, 
 
 As, thinking of the mighty dead, 
 
 The young from slothful couch will start, 
 
 And vow, with lifted hands outspread, 
 
 Like them to act a noble part ? 
 
 Oh ! who shall lightly say that fame 
 Is nothing but an empty name ? 
 
 When but for those our mighty dead, 
 
 All ages past a blank would be, 
 
 Sunk in oblivion’s murky bed— 
 
 A desert bare, a shipless sea ? 
 
 They are the distant objects seen— 
 
 The lofty marks of what hath been. 
 
 Joanna Baillie. 
 
 1209. FAME. Qualities of 
 
 What’s fame?—a fancied life in others’ breath, 
 
 A thing beyond us, e’en before our death. 
 
 Just what you hear, you have, and what’s unknown 
 The same (my lord) if Tully’s, or your own. 
 
 All that we feel of it begins and ends 
 In the small circle of our foes or friends ; 
 
 To all beside as much an empty shade 
 A Eugene living as a Csesar dead ; 
 
 Alike or when or where they shone or shine, 
 
 Or on the Rubicon, or on the Rhine. 
 
 A wit’s a feather, and a chief a rod; 
 
 An honest man’s the noblest work of God. 
 
 Fame but from death a villain’s name can save, 
 
 As justice tears his body from the grave ; 
 
 When what to oblivion better were resign’d 
 Is hung on high, to poison half mankind, 
 
 All fame is foreign, but of true desert; 
 
 Plays round the head, but comes not to the heart: 
 One self-approving hour whole years outweighs 
 Of stupid starers and of loud huzzas. 
 
 And more true joy Marcellus exiled feels 
 Than Caesar with a senate at his heels —Pope. 
 
 1210. FAME: robs men of rest. 
 
 A noble emulation heats your bi'east, 
 
 And your own fame now robs you of your rest: 
 Good actions still must be maintain’d with good, 
 As bodies nourish’d with resembling food. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 1211. FAME: seldom won. 
 
 In stress of weather, most; some sink outright; 
 O’er them, and o’er their names, the billows close ; 
 To-morrow knows not they were ever born. 
 
 Others a short memorial leave behind, 
 
 Like a flag floating, when the bark’s ingulph’d ; 
 
 It floats a moment and is seen no more: 
 
 One Caesar lives ; a thousand are forgot.— Young. 
 
 1212. FAME. Spur of 
 
 Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise 
 (That last infirmity of noble minds) 
 
 To scorn delights, and live laborious days ; 
 
 But the fair guerdon when we hope to find, 
 
 And think to burst out into sudden blaze, 
 
 Comes the blind fury with th’ abhorred shears, 
 And slits the thin-spun life.— Milton. 
 
 I courted fame but as a spur to brave 
 And honest deeds ; and who despises fame 
 Will soon renounce the virtues that deserve it. 
 
 Mallet. 
 
 1213. FAME: strangely won. 
 
 The aspiring youth that fired the Ephesian dome 
 Outlives in fame the pious fool that raised it. 
 
 Cibber 
 
 1214. FAMILY: a Book. 
 
 The family is like a book, 
 
 The children are the leaves, 
 
 The parents are the cover that 
 Protective beauty gives. 
 
 At first the pages of the book 
 Are blank, and smooth, and fair; 
 
 But time soon writeth memories, 
 
 And painteth pictures there. 
 
 Love is the little golden clasp 
 That bindeth up the trust; 
 
 Oh break it not, lest all the leaves 
 Shall scatter and be lost. 
 
 1215. FAMILY: inseparable. 
 
 ’Tis but one family—the sound is balm, 
 
 A seraph-whisper to the wounded heart, 
 
 It lulls the storm of sorrow to a calm, 
 
 And draws the venom from the avenger's dart. 
 
FAMILY 
 
 246 
 
 FAMILY 
 
 ’Tis but one family—the accents come 
 
 Like light from heaven to break the night of woe, 
 
 The banner-cry to call the spirit home, 
 
 The shout of victory o’er a fallen foe. 
 
 Death cannot separate—Is memory dead ? 
 
 Has thought, too, vanish’d, and has love grown 
 
 chill ? 
 
 Has every relic and memento fled, 
 
 And are the living only with us still ? 
 
 No ! in our hearts the lost we mourn remain 
 Objects of love and ever-fresh delight; 
 
 And fancy leads them in her fairy train, 
 
 In half-seen transports past the mourner’s sight. 
 
 Yes ! in ten thousand ways, or far or near, 
 
 The call by love, by meditation brought. 
 
 In heavenly visions yet they haunt us here, 
 
 The sad companions of our sweetest thought. 
 
 Death never separates ; the golden wires 
 That ever trembled to their names before. 
 
 Will vibrate still, though every form expires, 
 
 And those we love, we look upon no more, 
 
 No more indeed in sorrow and in pain, 
 
 But even memory’s need ere long will cease, 
 
 For we shall join the lost of love again, 
 
 In endless bands, and in eternal peace. 
 
 Rdmeston. 
 
 1216. FAjVIILY. Reunion of a 
 
 Scatter’d o’er various fields by Heaven, 
 Through various pathways led, 
 
 What happiness in peace to meet 
 Around a common head ! 
 
 To talk of mercies shared by all, 
 
 Of hopes that virtues raise ; 
 
 And in the general bliss enjoy’d, 
 
 To join in general praise ! 
 
 The pleasures of the past recall, 
 
 And tell the tales again 
 
 Of infant dreams, and childhood’s joys, 
 
 And youth’s delightful reign,— 
 
 And then the strange vicissitudes 
 Of mankind to compare ; 
 
 And mark how wonderful, how kind, 
 
 Heaven’s dispensations are,— 
 
 To plan the schemes of future bliss ; 
 
 Rejoicing to confess, 
 
 That He whose love hath bless’d the past, 
 
 The future, too, will bless. 
 
 Thus the domestic hearth is made 
 Both love and virtue’s shrine, 
 
 And thus earth’s dross is purified, 
 
 And man becomes divine.— Bowring. 
 
 1217. FAMILY. Ties of the 
 
 If there is happiness below, 
 
 In such a home she’s shrined: 
 
 The human heart can never know 
 Enjoyment more refined, 
 
 Than where the sacred band is twined 
 Of filial and parental ties,— 
 
 That tender union, all combined 
 Of Nature’s holiest sympathies ! 
 
 ’Tis friendship in its loveliest dress ! 
 
 ’Tis love’s most perfect tenderness ! 
 
 All other friendships may decay, 
 
 All other loves may fade away: 
 
 Our faults or follies may disgust 
 The friend in whom we fondly trust; 
 
 Or selfish views may intervene, 
 
 From us his changeful heart to wean: 
 
 Or we ourselves may change, and find 
 Faults to which once our love was blind: 
 
 Or ling’ring pain, or pining care 
 At length may weary friendship’s ear ; 
 
 And love may gaze with alter’d eye, 
 
 When beauty’s young attractions fly : 
 
 But in that union, firm and mild, 
 
 That binds a parent to his child, 
 
 Such jarring chords can never sound— 
 
 Such painful doubts can never wound. 
 Though health and fortune may decay, 
 
 And fleeting beauty pass away ; 
 
 Though grief may blight, or sin deface 
 Our youth’s fair promise, or disgrace 
 May brand with infamy, and shame, 
 
 And public scorn, our blasted name ; 
 
 Though all the fell contagion fly, 
 
 Of guilt, reproach, and misery,— 
 
 When love forgets, and friends forsake, 
 
 A parent, though his heart may break. 
 
 From that fond heart will never tear 
 The child, whose last retreat is there ! 
 
 O union, purest, most sublime ! 
 
 The grave itself but for a time 
 The holy bond shall sever ; 
 
 His hand who rent shall bind again, 
 
 With firmer links, thy broken chain, 
 
 To be complete for ever !— Fitzarihur. 
 
 1218. FAMILY. Worship in the 
 
 Fair is the sight, by Israel’s psalmist sung, 
 
 Of those Avhom God hath in one household join’d, 
 In peace, and unity, and love combined ; 
 
 Most fair, when all assemble, old and young, 
 
 Parents and children ; those who serve, among 
 
FAMILY WORSHIP 
 
 247 
 
 FANCY 
 
 Those whom they serve ; with social feelings kind 
 Each to the other, and with knees inclined 
 In patriarchal worship, heart and tongue. 
 
 List to the Saviour’s words ! ‘ Where two or three 
 Meet in My name, there in the midst am I.’ 
 Believe, and welcome to thy family 
 
 The gracious Guest ; and by His blessing try, 
 How much domestic bliss and amity 
 
 Hang on domestic worship’s hallowing tie ! 
 
 Mant. 
 
 1219. FAMILY WORSHIP. Duty of 
 
 Whom God hath made the heads of families, 
 
 He hath made priests to offer sacrifice. 
 
 Daily let part of Holy Writ be read, 
 
 Let, as the body, so the soul have bread ; 
 
 For look, how many souls in thy house be, 
 
 With just as many souls God trusteth thee. 
 
 1220. FAMILY WORSHIP. Picture of 
 
 The cheerfu’ supper done, wi’ serious face, 
 
 They, round the ingle, form a circle wide ; 
 
 The sire turns o’er, wi’ patriarchal grace, 
 
 The big ha’-Bible, ance his father’s pride ; 
 
 His bonnet reverently is laid aside, 
 
 His lyart haffets wearing thin an’ bare : 
 
 Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide, 
 
 He wales a portion with judicious care ; 
 
 And ‘ Let us worship God ! ’ he says with solemn air. 
 
 They chant their artless notes in simple guise ; 
 
 They tune their hearts, by far the noblest aim : 
 Perhaps ‘ Dundee’s ’ wild-warbling measures rise, 
 
 Or plaintive ‘ Martyrs,’ worthy of the name ; 
 
 Or noble ‘ Elgin ’ beats the heavenward flame, 
 
 The sweetest far of Scotia’s holy lays 
 Compared with these, Italian trills are tame ; 
 
 The tickled ears no heartfelt raptures raise; 
 
 Nae unison hae they with our Creator’s praise. 
 
 The priest-like father reads the sacred page— 
 
 How Abram was the friend of God on high ; 
 
 Or Moses bade eternal warfare wage 
 With Amalek’s ungracious progeny, 
 
 Or how the royal bard did groaning lie 
 
 Beneath the stroke of Heaven’s avenging ire ; 
 
 Or Job’s pathetic plaint, and wailing cry ; 
 
 Or rapt Isaiah’s wild, seraphic fire; 
 
 Or other holy seers that tune the sacred lyre. 
 
 : Perhaps the Christian volume is the theme,— 
 
 How guiltless blood for guilty man was shed ; 
 j How He, who bore in heaven the second name, 
 
 Had not on earth whereon to lay His head : 
 
 How His first followers and servants sped ; 
 
 The precepts sage they wrote to many a land ; 
 How he, who lone in Patmos banished, 
 
 Saw in the sun a mighty angel stand, 
 
 And heard great Bab’lon’s doom pronounced by 
 Heaven’s command. 
 
 Then, kneeling down, to heaven’s eternal King, 
 
 The saint, the father, and the husband prays : 
 Hope ‘ springs exulting on triumphant wing,’ 
 
 That thus they all shall meet in future days ; 
 
 There ever bask in uncreated rays, 
 
 No more to sigh, or shed the bitter tear, 
 
 Together hymning their Creator’s praise, 
 
 In such society, yet still more dear ; 
 
 While circling Time moves round in an eternal 
 sphere. 
 
 Compared with this, how poor Religion’s pride, 
 
 In all the pomp of method and of art, 
 
 When men display to congregations wide, 
 
 Devotion’s every grace, except the heart ! 
 
 The Power, incensed, the pageant will desert, 
 
 The pompous strain, the sacerdotal stole ; 
 
 But, haply, in some cottage far apart, 
 
 May hear, well pleased, the language of the soul; 
 And in His Book of Life the inmates poor enroll. 
 
 Burns. 
 
 1221. FANATICISM. Definition of 
 
 What is fanatic frenzy, scorn’d so much, 
 
 And dreaded more than a contagious touch ? 
 
 I grant it dangerous, and approve your fear, 
 
 That fire is catching if you draw too near; 
 
 But sage observers oft mistake the flame, 
 
 And give true piety that odious name. 
 
 To tremble (as the creature of an hour 
 Ought at the view of an Almighty power) 
 
 Before whose presence, at whose awful throne 
 All tremble in all worlds, except our own, 
 
 To supplicate His mercy, love His ways, 
 
 And prize them above pleasure, wealth, or praise, 
 Though common sense, allow’d a casting voice, 
 
 And free from bias, must approve the choice, 
 Convicts a man fanatic in the extreme, 
 
 And wild as madness in the world’s esteem. 
 
 But that disease, when soberly defined, 
 
 Is the false fire of an o’erheated mind ; 
 
 It views the truth with a distorted eye, 
 
 And either warps or lays it useless by ; 
 
 ’Tis narrow, selfish, arrogant, and draws 
 Its sordid nourishment from man’s applause; 
 
 And while at sin unrelinquish’d lies, 
 
 Presumes itself chief favourite of the skies.— Cowper. 
 
 1222. FANCY. 
 
 In the soul 
 
 Are many lesser faculties, that serve 
 
FAREWELL 
 
 248 
 
 FASHION 
 
 Reason as chief: among these fancy next 
 Her office holds ; of all external things, 
 
 Which tli£ five watchful senses represent, 
 
 She forms imaginations, airy shapes, 
 
 Which reason joining, or disjoining, frames 
 All what we affirm, or what deny, and call 
 Our knowledge or opinion.— Milton. 
 
 Woe to the youth whom Fancy gains, 
 
 Winning from reason’s hand the reins.— Scott. 
 
 1223. FAREWELL. Dread of 
 
 Nay, shrink not from the word ‘farewell,’ 
 
 As if ’twere friendship’s final knell; 
 
 Such fears may prove but vain : 
 
 So changeful is life’s fleeting day, 
 
 Whene’er we sever hope may say, 
 
 ‘We part to meet again !’ 
 
 Even the last parting earth can know 
 Brings not unutterable woe, 
 
 To souls that heavenward soar ; 
 
 For humble faith, with steadfast eye, 
 
 Points to a brighter world on high, 
 
 Where hearts that here at parting sigh, 
 
 May meet to part no more. — Barton. 
 
 1224. FAREWELL. Welcome and 
 
 Time is like a fashionable host, 
 
 That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand ; 
 And with his arms outstretch’d, as he would fly. 
 Grasps in the comer ; welcome ever smiles, 
 
 And farewell goes out sighing.— Shakespeare. 
 
 1225. FASHION. Ban of 
 
 Fashion, leader of a chattering train, 
 
 Whom man, for his own hurt, permits to reign, 
 Who shifts and changes all things but his shape, 
 And would degrade her votary to an ape, 
 
 The fruitful parent of abuse and wrong, 
 
 Holds a usurp’d dominion o’er his tongue ; 
 
 There sits and prompts him with his own disgrace, 
 Prescribes the theme, the tone, and the grimace, 
 And, when accomplish’d in her wayward school, 
 Calls gentlemen whom she has made a fool. 
 
 ’Tis an unalterable, fix’d decree, 
 
 That none could frame or ratify but she, 
 
 That heaven and hell, and righteousness and sin, 
 Snares in his path, and foes that lurk within, 
 
 God and His attributes (a field of day 
 Where ’tis an angel’s happiness to stray), 
 
 Fruits of His love and wonders of His might, 
 
 Be never named in ears esteem’d polite. 
 
 That he who dares, when she forbids, be grave, 
 Shall stand proscribed, a madman or a knave, 
 
 A close designer not to be believed, 
 
 Or, if excused that charge, at least deceived. 
 
 Co'iiper. 
 
 1226. FASHION. Compliance with 
 
 Nothing exceeds in ridicule, no doubt, 
 
 A fool in fashion, but a fool that’s out; 
 
 His passion for absurdity’s so strong 
 He cannot bear a rival in the wrong. 
 
 Though wrong the mode, comply : more sense is 
 shown 
 
 In wearing others’ follies than our own.— You?ig. 
 
 1227. FASHION. Folly of 
 
 The rout is Folly’s circle, which she draws 
 With magic wand. So potent is the spell, 
 
 That none, decoy’d into that fatal ring, 
 
 Unless by Heaven’s peculiar grace, escape. 
 
 There we grow early grey, but never wise ; 
 
 There form connections, but acquire no friend ; 
 Solicit pleasure, hopeless of success ; 
 
 Waste youth in occupations only fit 
 
 For second childhood, and devote old age 
 
 To sports which only childhood could excuse. 
 
 There they are happiest who dissemble best 
 Their weariness ; and they the most polite 
 Who squander time and treasure with a smile, 
 Though at their own destruction. She that asks 
 Her dear five hundred friends contemns them all, 
 And hates their coming. They (what can they less?) 
 Make just reprisals ; and with cringe and shrug, 
 
 And bow obsequious, hide their hate of her. 
 
 Wives beggar husbands, husbands starve their wives, 
 
 On Fortune’s velvet altar offering up 
 
 Their last poor pittance—Fortune, most severe 
 
 Of goddesses yet known, and costlier' far 
 
 Than all that held their routs in heathen’s heaven. 
 
 So fare we in this prison-house, the world ; 
 
 And ’tis a fearful spectacle to see 
 So many maniacs dancing in their chains. 
 
 They gaze upon the links that hold them fast 
 With eyes of anguish, execrate their lot, 
 
 Then shake them in despair, and dance again. 
 
 Coivpcr. 
 
 1228. FASHION. Fool of 
 
 With scrupulous care exact, he walk’d the rounds 
 Of fashionable duty ; laugh’d when sad ; 
 
 When merry, wept; deceiving, was deceived ; 
 
 And flattering, flatter’d. Fashion was his god. 
 Obsequiously he fell before its shrine, 
 
 In slavish plight, and trembled to offend. 
 
 If graveness suited, he was gravfe; if else, 
 
 He travail’d sorely, and made brief repose, 
 
 To work the proper quantity of sin. 
 
FASHION 
 
 249 
 
 FASTING 
 
 -r—:—;- 
 
 In all submissive to its changing shape, 
 
 Still changing, girded he his vexed frame, 
 
 And laughter made to men of sounder head. 
 
 Most circumspect he was of bows, and nods, 
 
 And salutations ; and most seriously 
 And deeply meditated he of dress ; 
 
 And in his dreams saw lace and ribands fly. 
 
 His soul was naught—he damn’d it every day 
 Unceremoniously. Oh ! fool of fools ! 
 
 Pleased with a painted smile, he flutter’d on, 
 
 Like fly of gaudy plume, by fashion driven, 
 
 As faded leaves by Autumn’s wind, till Death 
 Put forth his hand and drew him out of sight. 
 
 Oh ! fool of fools ! polite to man ; to God 
 Most rude : yet had he many rivals, who, 
 
 Age after age, great striving made to be 
 Ridiculous, and to forget they had 
 Immortal souls.— Pollok. 
 
 1229. FASHION : slavishly followed. 
 
 New customs, 
 
 Though they be never so ridiculous, 
 
 Nay, let them be unmanly, yet are follow’d. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 1230. FASHION. Woman of 
 
 The distaff, needle, all domestic cares, 
 
 Religion, children, husband, home, were things 
 She could not bear the thought of; bitter drugs 
 That sicken’d her soul. The house of wanton mirth 
 And revelry, the mask, the dance, she loved, 
 
 And in their service soul and body spent 
 Most cheerfully ; a little admiration, 
 
 Or true, or false, no matter which, pleased her, 
 
 And o’er the wreck of fortune lost, and health, 
 
 And peace, and an eternity of bliss 
 
 Lost, made her sweetly smile. She was convinced 
 
 That God had made her greatly out of taste, 
 
 And took much pains to make herself anew. 
 Bedaub’d with paint, and hung with ornaments 
 Of curious selection—gaudy toy ! 
 
 A show unpaid for, paying to be seen! 
 
 As beggar by the way, most humbly asking 
 The alms of public gaze—she went abroad ; 
 
 Folly admired, and indication gave 
 Of envy ; cold Civility made bows, 
 
 And smoothly flatter’d ; Wisdom shook his head, 
 And Laughter shaped his lip into a smile ; 
 
 Sobriety did stare ; Forethought grew pale ; 
 
 And Modesty hung down the head and blush’d ; 
 
 And Pity wept, as on the frothy surge 
 Of fashion toss’d, she pass’d them by, like sail 
 Before some devilish blast, and got no time 
 To think, and never thought, till on the rock 
 She dash’d of ruin, anguish, and despair. — Pollok. 
 
 1231. FASTING. Acceptable 
 
 Is fasting then the thing that God requires? 
 
 Can fasting expiate, or slake those fire? 
 
 That sin hath blown to such a mighty flame? 
 
 Can sackcloth clothe a fault, or hide a shame? 
 
 Can ashes cleanse thy blot, or purge thy offence ? 
 
 Or do thy hands make Heaven a recompense 
 By strewing dust upon thy briny face ? 
 
 Are these the tricks to purchase heavenly grace ?— 
 No! though thou pine thyself with willing want, 
 
 Or face look thin, or carcass ne’er so gaunt; 
 Although thou worser weeds than sackcloth wear, 
 Or naked go, or sleep in shirts of hair ; 
 
 Or though thou choose an ash-tub for thy bed, 
 
 Or make a daily dunghill on thy head,— 
 
 Thy labour is not poised with equal gains, 
 
 For thou hast naught but labour for thy pains. 
 
 Such holy madness God rejects and loathes, 
 
 That sinks no deeper than the skin or clothes. 
 
 ’Tis not thine eyes, which, taught to weep by art, 
 Look red with tears (not guilty of thy heart) ; 
 
 ’Tis not the holding of thy hands so high, 
 
 Nor yet the purer squinting of thine eye ; 
 
 ’Tis not your mimic mouths, your antic faces, 
 
 Your Scripture phrases, or affected graces, 
 
 Nor prodigal upbanding of thine eyes, 
 
 Whose gashful balls do seem to pelt the skies ; 
 
 ’Tis not the strict reforming of your hair, 
 
 So close that all the neighbour skull be bare ; 
 
 ’Tis not the drooping of thy head so low, 
 
 Nor yet the lowering of thy sullen brow ; 
 
 Nor wolfish howling that disturbs the air, 
 
 Nor repetitions, or your tedious prayer: 
 
 No, no ! ’tis none of this that God regards— 
 
 Such sort of fools their own applause rewards ; 
 
 Such puppet-plays to heaven are strange and quaint; 
 Their service is unsweet, and foully taint; 
 
 Their words fall fruitless from their idle brain— 
 
 But true repentance runs in other sti’ain : 
 
 Where sad contrition harbours, there the heart 
 Is truly acquainted with the secret smart 
 Of past offences—hates the bosom sin 
 The most which the soul took pleasure in. 
 
 No crime unsifted, no sin unpresented, 
 
 Can lurk unseen ; and seen, none unlamented. 
 
 The troubled soul’s amazed with dire aspects 
 Of lesser sins committed, and detects 
 The wounded conscience; it cries amain 
 For mercy, mercy—cries, and cries again ; 
 
 It sadly grieves, and soberly laments ; 
 
 It yearns for grace, reforms, returns, repents. 
 
 Aye, this is incense whose accepted savour 
 Mounts up the heavenly Throne, and findeth favour ; 
 Aye, this is it whose valour never fails— 
 
 With God it stoutly wrestles and prevails; 
 
FASTING 
 
 250 
 
 FA THER 
 
 Aye, this is it that pierces heaven above, 
 
 Never returning home, like Noah’s dove, 
 
 But brings an olive leaf, or some incense 
 
 That works salvation, and eternal peace. — Quarles. 
 
 1232. FASTING. Private 
 
 When thou a fast would’st keep, 
 
 Make not thy homage cheap 
 By publishing its signs to every eye ; 
 
 But let it be between 
 Thyself and the Unseen, 
 
 So shall it gain acceptance from on high. 
 
 Barton. 
 
 1233. FASTING. True 
 
 Is this a fast—to keep 
 The larder lean, 
 
 And clean 
 
 From fat of veals and sheep ? 
 
 Is it to quit the dish 
 Of flesh, yet still 
 To fill 
 
 The platter high with fish ? 
 
 Is it to fast an hour, 
 
 Or ragged to go, 
 
 Or show 
 
 A downcast look, and sour ? 
 
 No ! ’tis a fast to dole 
 Thy sheaf of wheat, 
 
 And meat, 
 
 Unto the hungry soul. 
 
 It is to fast from strife, 
 
 From old debate 
 And hate,— 
 
 To circumcise thy life. 
 
 To show a heart grief-rent; 
 
 To starve thy sin, 
 
 Not bin,— 
 
 And that’s to keep thy Lent. — Herrick. 
 
 1234. FATE : conquered. 
 
 To bear is to conquer our fate.— Campbell. 
 
 1235. FATE. Impartial 
 
 With equal foot, rich friend, impartial fate 
 Knocks at the cottage and the palace gate : 
 
 Life’s span forbids thee to extend thy cares, 
 
 And stretch thy hopes beyond thy destined years ; 
 Night soon will seize, and you must quickly go 
 To storied ghosts, and Pluto’s house below. 
 
 Horace. 
 
 1236. FATE : inevitable. 
 
 What fates impose, that men must needs abide; 
 
 It boots not to resist both wind and tide. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Whate’er betides, by destiny ’tis done ; 
 
 And better bear like men than vainly seek to shun. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 1237. FATE. Limit of 
 
 On what strange grounds we build our hopes and 
 fears! 
 
 Man’s life is all a mist, and in the dark 
 Our fortunes meet us. 
 
 If fate be not, then what can we foresee ? 
 
 And how can we avoid it if it be ? 
 
 If by free will in our own paths we move, 
 
 How are we bounded by decrees above ? 
 
 Whether we drive, or whether we are driven, 
 
 If ill, ’tis ours; if good, the act of Heaven. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 1238. FATHER. Affection of the 
 
 Fathers alone a father’s heart can know ; 
 
 What secret tides of sweet enjoyment flow 
 When brothers love ! But if then hate succeeds. 
 They wage the war, but ’tis the father bleeds. 
 
 Young. 
 
 1239. FATHER. Confidence in a 
 
 ’Twas when the sea’s tremfendous roar 
 A little bark assail’d; 
 
 And pallid fear, with awful power, 
 
 O’er each on board prevail’d : 
 
 Save one, the captain’s darling son, 
 
 Who fearless view’d the storm, 
 
 And playful, with composure smiled 
 At danger’s threatening form. 
 
 ;* Why sporting thus,’ a seaman cried, 
 
 ‘ Whilst dangers overwhelm?’ 
 
 * Why yield to grief?’ the boy replied, 
 
 ‘ My Father's at the helm. ’ 
 
 1240. FATHER. First duty of a 
 
 Y et be not surety if thou be a father. 
 
 Love is a personal debt*. 1 cannot give 
 My children’s right, nor ought he take it: rather 
 Both friends should die, than hinder them to live. 
 Fathers first enter bonds to Nature’s ends ; 
 
 And are her sureties, ere they are a friend’s. 
 
 George Herbert. 
 
 1241. FATHER. Influence of a 
 
 What is there like a father to a son ? 
 
 A father, quick in love, wakeful in care, 
 
FAULTS 
 
 251 
 
 FEAR 
 
 Tenacious of his trust, proof in experience, 
 Severe in honour, perfect in example, 
 
 Stamp’d with authority !— Sheridan Knowles. 
 
 1242. FAULTS. Correction of 
 
 Gently I took that which ungently came, 
 
 And without scorn forgave : do thou the same. 
 
 If a foe have kenn’d, 
 
 Or worse than foe, an alienated friend, 
 
 A rib of dry rot in thy ship’s stout side, 
 
 Think it God’s message, and in humble pride 
 With heart of oak replace it; thine the gains : 
 
 Give him the rotten timber for his pains! 
 
 Coleridge. 
 
 In speaking of a person’s faults, 
 
 Pray don’t forget your own ; 
 
 Remember those with homes of glass 
 Should seldom throw a stone ; 
 
 If we have nothing else to do 
 Than talk of those who sin, 
 
 ’Tis better we commence at home, 
 
 And from that point begin. 
 
 1243. FAULTS. Discovery of 
 
 little mind looketh on the lily with a micro¬ 
 scopic eye, 
 
 iger and glad to pry out specks on its robe of 
 purity ; 
 
 it a great mind gazeth on the sun, glorying in his 
 brightness.— Tapper. 
 
 1244. FAULTS. Effect of 
 
 Faults in the life breed errors in the brain, 
 
 And these, reciprocally, those again. 
 
 The mind and conduct mutually imprint 
 And stamp their image in each other’s mint ;* 
 Each sire and dam, of an infernal race, 
 
 Begetting and conceiving all that’^ base 
 
 Cowpcr. 
 
 1245. FAVOUR. Deceit of 
 
 Dost thou not know 
 hat of all fickle Fortune’s transient gifts, 
 ivour is most deceitful ? ’Tis a beam, 
 
 ’hich darts uncertain brightness for a moment! 
 he faint, precarious, fickle shine of power, 
 iven without merit, by caprice withdrawn, 
 o trifle is so small as what obtains, 
 ive that which loses favour ; ’tis a breath, 
 
 .’hich hangs upon a smile ! A look, a word, 
 frown, the air-built tower of Fortune shakes, 
 nd down the unsubstantial fabric falls. 
 
 Hannah More. 
 
 1246. FAVOUR. Human 
 
 O momentary grace of mortal man 
 Which we more hunt for than the grace of God, 
 Who builds his hope in air of your fair looks, 
 Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast ; 
 
 Ready, with every nod, to tumble down 
 Into the fatal bowels of the deep.— Shakespeare. 
 
 1247. FEAR. Cultivation of 
 
 The weakness we lament, ourselves create. 
 Instructed from our infant years to court, 
 
 With counterfeited fears, the aid of man. 
 
 We learn to shudder at the rustling breeze, 
 Start at the light, and tremble in the dark. 
 
 Till affectation, rip’ning to belief 
 
 And folly, frighten’d at our own chimeras, 
 
 Habitual cowardice usurps the soul.— Johnson. 
 
 1248. FEAR. Deliverance from 
 
 The saints should never be dismay’d, 
 
 Nor sink in hopeless fear ; 
 
 For when they least expect His aid, 
 
 The Saviour will appear. 
 
 This Abraham found : he raised the knife ; 
 
 God saw, and said, ‘ Forbear ! 
 
 Yon ram shall yield his meaner life ; 
 
 Behold the victim there.’ 
 
 Once David seem’d Saul’s certain prey ; 
 
 But hark ! the foe’s at hand ; 
 
 Saul turns his arms another way, 
 
 To save the invaded land. 
 
 When Jonah sunk beneath the wave, 
 
 He thought to rise no more ; 
 
 But God prepared a fish to save, 
 
 And bear him to the shore. 
 
 Wait for His seasonable aid, 
 
 And though it tarry, wait: 
 
 The promise may be long delay’d, 
 
 But cannot come too late — Cozvper. 
 
 1249. FEAR. Desperation of 
 
 Men as resolute appear 
 With too much as too little fear ; 
 
 And when they’re out of hopes of dying. 
 
 Will run away from death by dying ; 
 
 Or turn again to stand it out, 
 
 And those they fled, like lions, rout.— Butler. 
 
FEAR 
 
 252 
 
 FEARFUL 
 
 1250. P'EAR : disclaimed. 
 
 W hy, what should be the fear ? 
 
 I do not set my life at a pin’s fee ; 
 
 And, for my soul, what can it do to that, 
 Being a thing immortal ?— Shakespeare. 
 
 1251. FEAR : enfeebles. 
 
 Desponding fear, of feeble fancies full, 
 Weak and unmanly, loosens every power. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 1252. FEAR. Exaggeration of 
 
 When the sun sets, shadows that shovv’d at noon 
 But small, appear most long and terrible : 
 
 So when we think fate hovers o’er our heads, 
 
 Our apprehensions shoot beyond all bounds; 
 Owls, ravens, crickets, seem the watch of death : 
 Nature’s worst vermin scare her god-like sons. 
 Echoes, the very leaving of a voice, 
 
 Grow babbling ghosts, and call us to our graves. 
 Each mole-hill thought swells to huge Olympus, 
 
 Y\ hile we, fantastic dreamers, heave and puff, 
 
 And sweat with an imagination’s weight.— Lee. 
 
 His fear was greater than his haste; 
 
 For fear, though fleeter than the wind, 
 
 Believes ’tis always left behind.— Butler. 
 
 1253. FEAR. Folly of 
 
 To fear the foe, since fear oppresseth strength, 
 Gives, in your weakness, strength unto your foe. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 1254. FEAR. Guilty 
 
 Fear on guilt attends, and deeds of darkness; 
 , The virtuous breast ne’er knows it.— Havard. 
 
 Oh fear not thou to die ! 
 
 No more to suffer or to sin ; 
 
 No snares without thy faith to try, 
 
 No traitor heart within : 
 
 But fear, oh ! rather fear 
 The gay, the light, the changeful scene, 
 The flattering smiles that greet thee here, 
 From Heaven thy heart that wean. 
 
 Fear lest, in evil hour. 
 
 Thy pure and holy hope, o’ercome 
 By clouds that in the horizon lower, 
 
 Thy spirit feel that gloom 
 Which over earth and heaven 
 The covering throws of fell despair ; 
 
 And deems itself the unforgiven 
 Predestined child of care. 
 
 1257. FEAR. Refuge from 
 
 When time seems short and death is near, 
 And I am press’d by doubt and fear, 
 
 And sins, an overflowing tide, 
 
 Assail my peace on every side, 
 
 1 his thought my refuge still shall be, 
 
 I know the Saviour died for me. 
 
 His name is Jesus, and He died 
 For guilty sinners crucified ; 
 
 Content to die that He might win 
 Their ransom from the death of sin : 
 
 No sinner worse than I can be, 
 
 Therefore I know He died for me. 
 
 If grace were bought, I could not buy ; 
 
 If grace were coin’d, no wealth have I; 
 
 By grace alone I draw my breath, 
 
 Held up from everlasting death ; 
 
 Yet, since I know His grace is free, 
 
 •I know the Saviour died for me. 
 
 Fear is the tax that conscience pays to guilt. 
 
 Sewell. 
 
 1255. FEAR : leads to hatred. 
 
 Fear is the last of ills : 
 
 In time we hate that which we often fear. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 1256. FEAR. Occasions for 
 
 Oh fear not thou to die ! 
 
 For rather fear to live, for Life 
 
 Has thousand snares thy feet to try 
 By peril, pain, and strife. 
 
 Brief is the work of Death ; 
 
 But Life ! the spirit shrinks to see 
 How full, ere Heaven recalls the breath, 
 
 The cup of woe may be. 
 
 I read God’s holy Word, and find 
 Great truths which far transcend my mind j 
 And little do I know beside 
 Of thoughts so high, so deep and wide : 
 
 This is my best theology, — 
 
 I know the Saviour died for me. 
 
 My faith is weak, but ’tis Thy gift; 
 
 Thou canst my helpless soul uplift, 
 
 And say, ‘ I hy bonds of death are riven, 
 Thy sins by Me are all forgiven ; 
 
 And thou shalt live from guilt set free, 
 
 For I, thy Saviour, died for thee.’— Bethune. 
 
 1258. FEARFUL. Encouragement for the 
 
 ‘ Forward let the people go,’ 
 
 Israel’s God will have it so; 
 
FEAST 
 
 FEAST 
 
 * 2 53 
 
 Though the path be through the sea, 
 Israel, what is that to thee ? 
 
 He who bids thee pass the waters, 
 
 Will be with His sons and daughters. 
 
 Israel, art thou sorely tried ? 
 
 Art thou press’d on every side ? 
 
 Does it seem as if no power 
 Could relieve thee in this hour ? 
 
 Wherefore art thou thus dishearten’d ? 
 
 Is the arm that saves thee shorten’d ? 
 
 Stand thou still this day, and see 
 Wonders wrought, and wrought for thee ; 
 Safe thyself on yonder shore, 
 
 Thou shalt see thy foes no more, 
 
 Thine to see the Saviour’s glory, 
 
 Thine to tell the wondrous story. 
 
 Yes! thy God shall yet be known, 
 
 Far and wide as God alone ; 
 
 At His feet shall idols fall, 
 
 For thy God is Lord of all ; 
 
 His is strength and His salvation— 
 
 He shall reign o’er every nation. 
 
 259. FEAST. Cheerfulness essential to a 
 
 Cheerful looks make every dish a feast, 
 And ’tis that crowns a welcome.— Massinger. 
 
 260. FEAST. Lesson for a 
 
 Five hundred princely guests before 
 Haroun A 1 Raschid sate : 
 
 Five hundred princely guests or more 
 Admired his royal state ; 
 
 For never had the glory been 
 So royally display’d, 
 
 Nor ever such a gorgeous scene 
 Had eye of man survey’d. 
 
 He, most times meek of heart, yet now 
 Of spirit too elate, 
 
 Exclaim’d, £ Before me Caesars bow, 
 
 On me two empires wait. 
 
 ‘ Yet all our glories something lack, 
 
 We do our triumphs wrong, 
 
 Until to us reflected back 
 In mirrors clear of song. 
 
 ‘ Call him, then, unto whom this power 
 Is given, this skill sublime — 
 
 Now win from us some splendid dowei 
 With song that fits the time.’ 
 
 * My King, as I behold thee now, 
 
 May I behold thee still, 
 
 While prostrate worlds before thee bow, 
 And wait upon thy will! 
 
 ‘ May evermore this clear, pure heaven, 
 Whence every speck and stain 
 Of trouble far away is driven, 
 
 Above thy head remain ! ’ 
 
 The caliph cried : ‘ Thou wishest well, 
 There waits thee golden store 
 For this—but, oh ! resume the spell, 
 
 I fain would listen more.’ 
 
 ‘ Drink thou life’s sweetest goblet up, 
 
 O King, and may its wine, 
 
 For others’ lips a mingled cup, 
 
 Be all unmix’d for thine. 
 
 ‘ Live long—the shadow of no grief 
 Come ever near to thee : 
 
 As thou in height of place art chief, 
 
 So chief in gladness be.’ 
 
 Haroun A 1 Raschid cried again, 
 
 ‘ I thank thee—but proceed, 
 
 And now take up a higher strain, 
 
 And win a higher meed.’ 
 
 Around that high, magnific hall 
 One glance the poet threw 
 On courtiers, king, and festival, 
 
 And did the strain renew : 
 
 ‘ And yet, and yet—shalt thou at last 
 Lie stretch’d on bed of death : 
 
 Then, when thou drawest thick and fast 
 With sobs thy painful breath, 
 
 ‘ When Azrael glides through guarded gate, 
 Through hosts that camp around 
 Their lord in vain—and will not wait, 
 
 When thou art sadly bound 
 
 ‘ Unto thine house of dust alone, 
 
 O King, when thou must die, 
 
 This pomp a shadow thou shalt own, 
 
 This glory all a lie.’ 
 
 Then darkness on all faces hung, 
 
 And through the banquet went 
 Low sounds the murmuring guests among 
 Of angry discontent ; 
 
 And him anon they fiercely urge— 
 
 ‘ What guerdon shall be thine ? 
 
 What does if, this untimely dirge, 
 
 ’Mid feasts, and flowers, and wine ? 
 
 * Our lord demanded in his mirth 
 A strain to heighten glee ; 
 
 But lo ! at thine his tears came forth 
 In current swift and free.’ 
 
FEAST 
 
 Peace ! not to him rebukes belong. 
 
 But rather highest grace ; 
 
 He gave me what I ask’d—a sono- 
 To fit the time and place.’ 
 
 All voices at that voice were still’d ; 
 
 Again the caliph cried, 
 
 ‘ He saw our mouths with laughter fill’d, 
 
 He saw us drunk with pride; 
 
 ‘ And bade us know that every road, 
 
 By monarch trod or slave, 
 
 Thick set with thorns, with roses strew’d, 
 Must issue in the grave.’ 
 
 Oriental , tr. by Trench . 
 
 1261. FEAST. Sorrow at a 
 
 Fill the bright goblet, spread the festive board ; 
 
 Summon the gay, the noble, and the fair ! 
 Through the loud hall in joyous concert pour’d, 
 Let mirth and music sound the dirge of care ! 
 But ask thou not if happiness be there, 
 
 If the loud laugh disguise convulsive throe, 
 
 Or if the brow the heart’s true living wear; 
 
 Lift not the festal mask!—enough to know, 
 
 No scene of mortal life but teems with mortal woe. 
 
 Scott. 
 
 1262. FEAST. The best 
 
 ’Tis not the food, but the content, 
 
 That makes the table’s merriment. 
 
 Where trouble serves the board, we eat 
 The platters there as soon as meat. 
 
 A little pipkin, with a bit 
 Of mutton or of veal in it, 
 
 Set on my table trouble-free, 
 
 More than a feast contenteth m t.—Herrick. 
 
 1263. FEASTS. Simple 
 
 Blest be those feasts, with simple plenty crown’d, 
 
 Where all the ruddy family around 
 
 Laugh at the jests or pranks, that never fail. 
 
 Or sigh with pity at some mournful tale. 
 
 Goldsfnith. 
 
 1264. FEASTING: is with some men the great 
 end of life. 
 
 Such whose sole bliss is eating; who can give 
 But that one brutal reason why they live. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 Their vaiious cares in one great point combine 
 The business of their lives,—that is—to dine. 
 
 Young. 
 
 2 5 4 FELL O WSILIP 
 
 1265. FEASTING. Unwise 
 
 Sated with nature’s boons, what thousands se 
 With dishes tortured from their native taste, 
 And mad variety, to spur beyond 
 Its wiser will the jaded appetite !— Armstrong. 
 
 1266. FELLOWSHIP. Bond of 
 
 One sole baptismal sign, 
 
 One Lord below, above, 
 
 One faith, one hope divine, 
 
 One only watchword—Love: 
 
 From different temples though it rise, 
 
 One song ascendeth to the skies. 
 
 Our sacrifice is one— 
 
 One Priest before the throne, 
 
 The slain, the risen Son, 
 
 Redeemer, Lord alone ! 
 
 And sighs from contrite hearts that spring 
 Our chief, our choicest offering. —Robinson. 
 
 1267. FELLOWSHIP. Christian 
 
 How blest the sacred tie that binds, 
 
 In union sweet, according minds ! 
 
 How swift the heavenly course they run 
 W hose hearts, whose faith, whose hopes, are one 
 
 To each the soul of each how dear ! 
 
 What jealous love ! what holy fear ! 
 
 How doth the generous flame within 
 Refine fiom earth, and cleanse from sin ! 
 
 f 
 
 Their streaming tears together flow 
 For human guilt and mortal woe ; 
 
 I heir ardent prayers together rise 
 Like mingling flames in sacrifice. 
 
 Together both they seek the place 
 Where God reveals His awful face: 
 
 How high, how strong, their raptures swell, 
 There’s none but kindred souls can tell. 
 
 Nor shall the glowing flame expire 
 M hen Nature droops her sickening fire ; 
 
 Then shall they meet in realms above — 
 
 A heaven of joy, a heaven of love.— Mrs Barbaulc 
 
 \ j 
 
 1268. FELLOWSHIP. Heavenly 
 
 ’Tis heaven begun below 
 To hear Christ’s praises flow 
 In Zion, where His name is known: 
 
 What will it be above 
 To sing redeeming love, 
 
 And cast our crowns before His throne! 
 
FELLOWSHIP 
 
 ?55 
 
 FIDELITY 
 
 When we adore Him there, 
 
 We shall be void of fear, 
 
 Nor faith, nor hope, nor patience need : 
 Love will absorb us quite, 
 
 Love in the midst of light, 
 
 On God’s eternal love shall feed. 
 
 Oh ! what sweet company 
 We then shall hear and see ! 
 
 What harmony will there abound ! 
 
 When souls unnumber’d sing 
 The praise of Zion’s King, 
 
 Nor one dissenting voice is found! 
 
 With everlasting joy, 
 
 Such as will never cloy, 
 
 We shall be fill’d, nor wish for more ; 
 Bright as meridian day, 
 
 Calm as the evening ray. 
 
 Full as a sea without a shore. 
 
 Till that blest period come, 
 
 Zion shall be my home ; 
 
 And may I never thence remove, 
 
 Till from the Church below 
 To heaven at once I go. 
 
 And there commune in perfect love! 
 
 Joseph Swain. 
 
 1269. FELLOWSHIP. Incense of 
 
 dORE sweet than odours caught by him who sails 
 tfear spicy shores of Araby the blest— 
 
 \ thousand times more exquisitely sweet 
 The freight of holy feeling which we meet, 
 n thoughtful moments, wafted by the gales 
 "rom fields where good men walk, 
 
 )r bowers wherein they rest.— Wordsworth. 
 
 1270. FELLOWSHIP. Sympathetic 
 
 The heart—the heart! oh ! let it spare 
 A sigh for others’ pain ; 
 
 The breath that soothes a brother’s care 
 Is never spent in vain. 
 
 And though it throb at gentlest touch, 
 
 Or Sorrow’s faintest call, 
 
 ’Twere better it should ache too much, 
 
 Than never ache at all. 
 
 No ray of glory lights the breast 
 
 That beats for self alone.— Eliza Cook. 
 
 1271. FICKLENESS. 
 
 As I blow this feather from my face, 
 
 Obeying with my wind when I do blow, 
 
 And yielding to another when it blows, 
 
 Commanded always by the greatest gust, 
 Such is the lightness of you common men. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 1272. FIDELITY. Tests of 
 
 Well hast thou fought 
 The better fight, who single hast maintain’d 
 Against revolted multitudes the cause 
 Of truth, in word mightier than they in arms ; 
 And for the testimony of truth hast borne 
 Universal reproach, far worse to bear 
 Than violence.— Milton. 
 
 \ 
 
 1273. FIDELITY. Test of 
 
 His courtiers of the caliph crave— 
 
 ‘ Oh, say how this may be, 
 
 That of thy slaves, this Ethiop slave 
 Is best beloved by thee ? 
 
 ‘ For he is hideous as the night: 
 
 Yet when has ever chose 
 A nightingale for its delight 
 A hueless, scentless rose ? ’ 
 
 The caliph then, ‘ No features fair, 
 
 No comely mien are his ; 
 
 Love is the beauty he doth wear, 
 
 And love his glory is. 
 
 . ‘ Once when a camel of my train 
 There fell in narrow street, 
 
 From broken casket roll’d amain 
 Rich pearls before my feet. 
 
 ‘I nodding to my slaves that I 
 Would freely give them these, 
 
 At once upon the spoil they fly, 
 
 The costly boon to seize. 
 
 ‘ One only at my side remain’d— 
 
 Beside tbis Ethiop, none : 
 
 He moveless as the steed he rein’d. 
 
 Behind me sat alone. 
 
 * “What will thy gain, good fellow, be, 
 Thus lingering at my side ? ” 
 
 “ My king, that I shall faithfully 
 Have guarded thee,” he cried. 
 
 ‘True servant’s title he may wear, 
 
 He only, who has not, 
 
 For his lord’s gifts, how rich soe’er, 
 
 His lord himself forgot! ’ 
 
 So thou alone dost walk before 
 Thy God with perfect aim, 
 
 From Him desiring nothing more 
 Beside Himself to claim. 
 
 
FIRMNESS 
 
 FLATTERY 
 
 256 
 
 For if thou not to Him aspire. 
 
 But to His gifts alone, 
 
 Not love, but covetous desire, 
 
 Has brought thee to His throne. 
 
 While such thy prayer, it climbs above 
 In vain—the golden key 
 Of God’s rich treasure-house of love 
 Thine own will never be. 
 
 Oriental , tr. by Trench. 
 
 / 
 
 1274. FIRMNESS. Power of 
 
 Be firm ! one constant element in luck 
 Is genuine, solid, old Teutonic pluck : 
 
 See yon tall shaft; it felt the earthquake’s thrill, 
 Clung to its base, and greets the sunrise still. 
 
 Holmes. 
 
 1275. FLATTERERS. 
 
 Of all wild beasts, preserve me from a tyrant; 
 And of all tame—a flatterer.— Jonson. 
 
 There are, who to my person pay their court; 
 
 I cough like Horace, and, though lean, am short. 
 Ammon’s great son one shoulder had too high, 
 Such Ovid’s nose, and, sir! you have an eye ! 
 
 Go on, obliging creature, make me see, 
 
 All that disgraced my betters, met in me ; 
 
 Say, for my comfort, languishing in bed, 
 
 Just so immortal Maro held his head ; 
 
 And when I die, be sure you let me know 
 Great Homer died three thousand years ago. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 I pass through flattery’s gilded sieve 
 Whatever I would say.— Miss London. 
 
 1276. FLATTERY. Baseness of 
 
 No adulation ; ’tis the death of virtue ! 
 
 Who flatters is of all mankind the lowest, 
 
 Save he who courts the flatterer. 
 
 Hannah More. 
 
 1277. FLATTERY: creates distrust. 
 
 I WOULD give worlds, could I believe 
 One half that is profess’d me ; 
 
 Affection ! could I think it thee, 
 
 When Flattery has caress’d me. 
 
 Miss London. 
 
 1278. FLATTERY : delusive. 
 
 Give me flattery ; 
 
 Flattery, the food of courts ! that I may rock him. 
 And lull him in down of his desires.— Beaumont. 
 
 1279. FLATTERY: distasteful to the truly great. 
 
 Minds 
 
 By nature great are conscious of their greatness, 
 And hold it mean to borrow aught from flattery. 
 
 Rowe. 
 
 1280. FLATTERY: insincere. 
 
 Alas ! the praise given to the ear 
 Ne’er was nor ne’er can be sincere. 
 
 Miss London. 
 
 1281. FLATTERY : its power. 
 
 The firmest purpose of a woman’s heart 
 To well-timed, artful flattery may yield.— Lillo. 
 
 All-potent Flattery, universal lord ! 
 
 Reviled, yet courted ; censured, yet adored ! 
 
 How thy strong spell each human bosom draws 
 The very echo to our self-applause ! —Pope. 
 
 1282. FLATTERY. Last refinement of 
 
 When I tell him he hates flatterers, 
 
 He says he does ; being then most flatter’d. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 1283. FLATTERY: loved. 
 
 Oh, that men’s ears should be 
 To counsel deaf, but not to flattery ! 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 ’Tis an old maxim in the schools 
 That flattery’s the food of fools ; 
 
 Yet now and then your men of wit 
 Will condescend to take a bit. — Swift. 
 
 1 
 
 But flattery never seems absurd; 
 
 The flatter’d always take your word ; 
 Impossibilities seem just, 
 
 They take the strongest praise on trust; 
 Hyperboles, though ne’er so great, 
 
 Will still come short of self-conceit. — Gay. 
 
 1284. FLATTERY. Meanness of 
 
 Flattery but ill becomes a soldier’s mouth ; 
 
 Leave we the practice of those meaner arts 
 To smooth-tongued statesmen and betraying cour 
 tiers.— Marsh 
 
 No flattery, boy ! an honest man can’t live by’t: 
 
 It is a little sneaking art, which knaves 
 Use to cajole and soften fools withal. 
 
 If thou hast flattery in thy nature, out with’t; 
 
 Or send it to a court, for there ’twill thrive. 
 
 Otway. 
 
FLATTERY 
 
 FLOWERS 
 
 2 5 7 
 
 Let me be grateful; but let far from me 
 Be fawning cringe, and false dissembling look, 
 And servile flattery, that harbours oft 
 In courts and gilded roofs .—Philips. 
 
 1285. FLATTERY. Mirror of 
 
 A beggar of Shiraz once had a looking-glass 
 That by his magic power all others did surpass,— 
 
 W hich many dames would wish their mirrors too 
 could share— 
 
 To show an ugly face as if it were most fair ! 
 
 The beggar held this glass in front of every one 
 From whom he begg’d ; and copious guerdons thus 
 he won. 
 
 For each with gladness gave who saw himself so 
 fair: 
 
 The gay young lord, the foul old hag, both looking 
 there. 
 
 At last the beggar, lying sick, gave to his son 
 The glass, and said, ‘ Make use of it as I have done. 5 
 But with the glass at night all empty came he back : 
 For he had made a different use of it, alack ! 
 
 He held not up the glass before each passing wight. 
 But saw his own face there and linger’d on the sight. 
 The father said, ‘ The foolish fruits of idle pride, 
 
 My son, no human heart has ever satisfied, 
 j Who shows the world in Flattery’s glass, is one 
 shrewd elf; 
 
 He is a fool who looks therein to see himself. ’ 
 
 Oriental. 
 
 1286. FLATTERY: selfish. 
 
 You play the spaniel, 
 
 And think with wagging of your tongue to win me. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 1287. FLATTERY: the peril of the great. 
 
 That subtle serpent, servile flattery, 
 
 Seldom infects the meaner man, that fears 
 No change of state, through fortune’s treachery ; 
 
 She spits her poison at the mightiest peers, 
 
 And with her charms enchants the prince’s ears : 
 
 In sweetest wood the worm doth soonest breed, 
 
 The caterpillar on best buds doth feed. 
 
 Mirror for Magistrates. 
 
 To feed, and clothe thee ? why should the poor be 
 flatter’d ? 
 
 No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp ; 
 
 And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee, 
 
 Where thrift may follow fawning. —Shakespeare. 
 
 |Tis the fate of princes, that no knowledge 
 Tomes pure to them, but, passing through the eyes 
 And ears of other men, it takes a tincture 
 
 From every channel; and still bears a relish 
 Of flattery or private ends .—Denham. 
 
 1288. FLOW T ERS : do not bloom in vain. 
 
 In May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes, 
 
 I found the fresh rhodora in the woods 
 Spreading its leafless blooms in a damp nook, 
 
 To please the desert and the sluggish brook ; 
 
 The purple petals fallen in the pool 
 
 Made the black waters, with their beauty gay—. 
 Here might the red-bird come his plumes to cool, 
 And court the flower that cheapens his array. 
 Rhodora ! if the sages ask thee why 
 This charm is wasted on the marsh and sky,' 
 
 Dear, tell them, that if eyes were made for seeing, 
 Then beauty is its own excuse for being. 
 
 W hy thou wert there, O rival of the rose ! 
 
 I never thought to ask ; I never knew, 
 
 But in my simple ignorance suppose 
 The self-same Power that brought me there brought 
 you. — Emerson. 
 
 1289. FLOWERS: fading. 
 
 Fade, flowers, fade ; nature will have it so ; 
 
 ’Tis but what we must in our autumn do. 
 
 Waller. 
 
 1290. FLOWERS. Field 
 
 Ye field flowers ! the gardens eclipse you, ’tis true; 
 
 \ et, wildings of nature, I dote upon you ; 
 
 For ye waft me to summers of old, 
 
 \\ hen the earth teem’d around me with fairy delight, 
 And when daisies and buttercups gladden’d my sight, 
 Like treasures of silver and gold .—Campbell. 
 
 1291. FLOWERS. Teaching of the 
 
 To me the meanest flower that blows can give 
 Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 Were I, O God, in churchless lands remaining, 
 
 Far from all voice of teachers or divines, 
 
 My soul would find, in flowers of Thy ordaining. 
 Priests, sermons, shrines ! 
 
 Horace Smith. 
 
 There is a lesson in each flower, 
 
 A story in each stream and bower; 
 
 In every herb on which you tread 
 Are written words, which, rightly read, 
 
 Will lead you from earth’s fragrant sod, 
 
 To hope, and holiness, and God. 
 
 Cunningham. 
 
 17 
 
FLOWERS 
 
 258 
 
 FOLLOWING CHRIST 
 
 This cottage door, this gentle gale, 
 Hay-scented, whispering round, 
 
 Yon path-side rose, that down the vale 
 Breathes incense from the ground, 
 Methinks should from the dullest clod 
 Invite the thankful heart to God.— Nields. 
 
 1292. FLOWERS : the stars of earth. 
 
 Spake full well, in language quaint and olden, 
 One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine, 
 
 When he call’d the flowers, so blue and golden, 
 Stars, that in earth’s firmament do shine. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 1293. FLOWERS. Use of the 
 
 God might have made the earth bring forth 
 Enough for great and small, 
 
 The oak tree and the cedar tree, 
 
 Without a flower at all. 
 
 He might have made enough, enough 
 For every want of ours, 
 
 For luxury, medicine, and toil, 
 
 And yet have made no flowers. 
 
 The clouds might give abundant rain, 
 
 The nightly dews might fall, 
 
 And the herb that keepeth life in man 
 Might yet have drunk them all. 
 
 Then wherefore, wherefore were they made, 
 And dyed with rainbow light, 
 
 All fashion’d with supremest grace, 
 Upspringing day and night? 
 
 Springing in valleys green and low, 
 
 And on the mountains high ; 
 
 And in the silent wilderness, 
 
 Where no man passes by ? 
 
 Our outward life requires them not, 
 
 Then, wherefore had they birth ? 
 
 To minister delight to man, 
 
 To beautify the earth : 
 
 To comfort man—to whisper hope, 
 
 Whene’er his faith is dim ; 
 
 For who so careth for the flower 
 Will much more care for Him ! 
 
 Mary Hozvitt. 
 
 1294. FOES. A Christian’s 
 
 Awake, my soul ! lift up thine eyes, 
 
 See where thy foes against thee rise, 
 
 In long array, a numerous host; 
 
 Awake, my soul! or thou art lost. 
 
 Here giant Danger threatening stands, 
 Mustering his pale terrific bands ; 
 
 There pleasure’s silken banners spread. 
 
 And willing souls are captive led. 
 
 See where rebellious passions rage, 
 
 And fierce desires and lusts engage; 
 
 The meanest foe of all the train 
 Has thousands and ten thousands slain. 
 
 Thou tread’st upon enchanted ground, 
 
 Perils and snares beset thee round ; 
 
 Beware of all, guard every part, 
 
 But most, the traitor in thy heart. 
 
 Come then, my soul, now learn to wield 
 The weight of thine immortal shield ; 
 
 Put on the armour from above 
 Of heavenly truth and heavenly love. 
 
 The terror and the charm repel, 
 
 And powers of earth, and powers of hell; 
 The Man of Calvary triumph’d here, 
 
 Why should His faithful followers fear? 
 
 Mrs Barbauld. 
 
 1295. FOLLIES. Unsuspected 
 
 Whose follies, blazed about, to all are known, 
 And are a secret to himself alone.— Granville. 
 
 1296. FOLLOWING CHRIST. 
 
 If Jesus came to earth again, 
 
 And walk’d and talk’d in field and street, 
 Who would not lay his human pain 
 Low at those heavenly feet ? 
 
 And leave the loom, and leave the lute, 
 
 And leave the volume on the shelf, 
 
 To follow Him, unquestioning, mute, 
 
 If’twere the Lord Himself? 
 
 How many a brow with care o’erworn, 
 
 How many a heart with grief o’erladen, 
 
 How many a youth with woe forlorn, 
 
 How many a mourning maiden, 
 
 Would leave the baffling earthly prize 
 Which fails the earthly, weak endeavour, 
 
 To gaze into those holy eyes, 
 
 And drink content for ever ! 
 
 And I where’er He went would go, 
 
 Nor question where the path might lead: 
 Enough to know that here below 
 I walk’d with God indeed ! 
 
 If this be thus, O Lord of mine, 
 
 In absence is Thy love forgot? 
 
 And must I, when I walk, repine, 
 
 Because I see Thee not ? 
 
FOOD 
 
 259 
 
 FOREST 
 
 If this be thus, if this be thus, 
 
 And our poor prayers yet reach Thee, Lord, 
 Since we are weak, once more to us 
 Reveal the Living Word ! 
 
 Oh, nearer to me in the dark 
 Of life’s low hours one moment stand, 
 
 And give me keener eyes to mark 
 
 The moving of Thy hand.— Owen Meredith. 
 
 1297. FOOD. Daily 
 
 O King of earth, and air, and sea ! 
 
 The hungry ravens cry to Thee ; 
 
 To Thee the scaly tribes, that sweep 
 The bosom of the boundless deep : 
 
 To Thee the lions roaring call; 
 
 The common Father, kind to all: 
 
 Then grant Thy servants, Lord, we pray, 
 
 Our daily bread from day to day. 
 
 The fishes may for food complain, 
 
 The ravens spread their wings in vain, 
 
 The roaring lions lack and pine ; 
 
 But God, Thou carest still for Thine ; 
 
 Thy bounteous hand with food can bless 
 The bleak and lonely wilderness ; 
 
 And Thou hast taught us, Lord, to pray, 
 
 For daily bread from day to day. 
 
 And oh ! when through the wilds we roam 
 That part us from our heavenly home ; 
 
 When, lost in danger, want, and woe, 
 
 Our faithless tears begin to flow ; 
 
 Do Thou the gracious comfort give, 
 
 By which alone the soul may live ; 
 
 And grant Thy servants, Lord, we pray, 
 
 The bread of life from day to day !— Heber. 
 
 1298. FOOD. Poisonous 
 
 Death in the pot! ’tis always there, 
 
 The bane of all our food, 
 
 When we partake it without fear, 
 
 Without an eye to God. 
 
 Unless He sanctify the meat, 
 
 And bless us from the sky, 
 
 Unless we to His glory eat, 
 
 Our souls by eating die.— Charles Wesley. 
 
 1299. FOOD. Provision of 
 
 By the poor widow’s oil and meal 
 Elijah was sustain’d ; 
 
 Though small the stock, it lasted well, 
 
 For God the store maintain’d. 
 
 It seem’d as if from day to day 
 They were to eat and die ; 
 
 But still, though in a secret way, 
 
 He sent a fresh supply. 
 
 Thus to His poor He still will give 
 Just for the present hour ; 
 
 But for to-morrow they must live 
 Upon His word and power. 
 
 No barn nor storehouse they possess 
 On which they can depend ; 
 
 Yet have no cause to fear distress, 
 
 For Jesus is their Friend.— Newton. 
 
 1300. FOOLS. Rashness of 
 
 For fools rush in where angels fear to tread. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 1301. FORBEARANCE: necessary to domestic 
 happiness. 
 
 Alas ! and is domestic strife, 
 
 That sorest ill of human life, 
 
 A plague so little to be fear’d 
 As to be wantonly incurr’d 
 To gratify a fretful passion, 
 
 On every trivial provocation ? 
 
 The kindest and the happiest pair 
 Will find occasion to forbear, 
 
 And something, every day they live, 
 
 To pity, and perhaps forgive: 
 
 But if infirmities that fall 
 In common to the lot of all, 
 
 A blemish, or a sense impair’d, 
 
 Are crimes so little to be spared, 
 
 Then farewell all that must create 
 The comfort of the wedded state ; 
 
 Instead of harmony, ’tis jar 
 
 And tumult and intestine war.— Coiuper. 
 
 1302. FOREST. Music of the 
 
 My soul is growing sick—I will away 
 And gather balm from a sweet forest walk! 
 
 There, as the breezes through the branches sweep, 
 
 Is heard aerial minstrelsy, like harps 
 Untouch’d, unseen, that on the spirit’s ear 
 Pour out their numbers till they lull in peace 
 The tumult of the bosom. There’s a voice 
 Of music in the rustling of the leaves : 
 
 And the green boughs are hung with living lutes, 
 Whose strings will only vibrate to His hand 
 Who made them, while they sound His untaught 
 praise! 
 
 The whole wild wood is one vast instrument 
 
FOREST 
 
 260 
 
 FORGIVENESS 
 
 Of thousand, thousand keys ; and all its notes 
 Come in sweet harmony, while Nature plays 
 To celebrate the presence of her God. 
 
 Hannah F Gould. 
 
 1303. FOREST. Teachings of the 
 
 Father, Thy hand 
 
 Flath rear’d these venerable columns, Thou 
 Didst weave this verdant roof. Thou didst look 
 down 
 
 Upon the naked earth, and forthwith rose 
 All these fair ranks of trees. They in Thy sun 
 Budded, and shook their green leaves in Thy breeze, 
 And shot towards heaven. The century-living crow, 
 Whose birth was in their tops, grew old and died 
 Among their branches, till at last they stood, 
 
 As now they stand, massy and tall and dark, 
 
 Fit shrine for humble worshipper to hold 
 Communion with his Maker. These dim vaults, 
 These winding aisles, of human pomp or pride 
 Report not. No fantastic carvings show 
 The boast of our vain race to change the form 
 Of Thy fair works. But Thou art here,—Thou 
 fill’st 
 
 The solitude. Thou art in the soft winds 
 That run along the summit of these trees 
 In music ; Thou art in the cooler breath 
 That from the inmost darkness of the place 
 Comes, scarcely felt; the barky trunks, the ground, 
 The fresh moist ground, are all instinct with Thee. 
 Here is continual worship : nature, here, 
 
 In the tranquillity that Thou dost love, 
 
 Enjoys Thy presence. Noiselessly around, 
 
 From perch to perch, the solitary bird 
 
 Passes ; and yon clear spring, that, midst its herbs, 
 
 Wells softly forth and wandering steeps the roots 
 
 Of half the mighty forest, tells no tale 
 
 Of all the good it does. Thou hast not left 
 
 Thyself without a witness, in these shades, 
 
 Of Thy perfections. Grandeur, strength, and grace 
 Are here to speak of Thee. This mighty oak,— 
 
 By whose immovable stem I stand and seem 
 Almost annihilated,—not a prince, 
 
 In all that proud old world beyond the deep. 
 
 E’er wore his crown as loftily as he 
 Wears the green coronal of leaves with which 
 Thy hand has graced him. Nestled at his root 
 Is beauty, such as blooms not in the glare 
 Of the broad sun. That delicate forest flower 
 With scented breath, and look so like a smile, 
 Seems, as it issues from the shapeless mould, 
 
 An emanation of the indwelling Life, 
 
 A visible token of the upholding Love, 
 
 That are the soul of this wide universe. — Bryant. 
 
 1304. FORGIVENESS. Alternative of 
 
 O God ! my sins are manifold ; against my life they 
 cry, 
 
 And all my guilty deeds foregone up to Thy temple 
 
 fly- 
 
 Wilt Thou release my trembling soul, that to despair 
 is driven ? 
 
 ‘ Forgive! ’ a blessed voice replied, ‘and thou shalt 
 be forgiven/ 
 
 My foemen, Lord, are fierce and fell; they spurn me 
 in their pride ; 
 
 They render evil for my good ; my patience they 
 deride; 
 
 Arise ! my King ! and be the proud in righteous ruin 
 driven! 
 
 ‘ Forgive ! ’ the awful answer came, ‘ as thou wouldst 
 be forgiven! : 
 
 Seven times, O Lord, I’ve pardon’d them ; seven 
 times they’ve sinn’d again ; 
 
 They practise still to work me woe, and triumph in 
 my pain ; 
 
 But let them dread my vengeance now, to just re¬ 
 sentment driven ! 
 
 ‘ Forgive! ’ the voice in thunder spake, ‘ or never be 
 forgiven! ’— Heber. 
 
 1305. FORGIVENESS. Bliss of 
 
 Trembling before Thine awful throne, 
 
 O Lord! in dust my sins I own : 
 
 Justice and Mercy for my life 
 Contend!—O smile, and heal the strife ! 
 
 The Saviour smiles ! Upon my soul 
 New tides of hope tumultuous roll: 
 
 His voice proclaims my pardon found, 
 
 Seraphic transport wings the sound ! 
 
 Earth has a joy unknown in heaven—• 
 
 The new-born peace of sin forgiven ! 
 
 Tears of such pure and deep delight, 
 
 Ye angels ! never dimm’d your sight. 
 
 Ye saw of old on chaos rise 
 The beauteous pillars of the skies; 
 
 Ye know where morn exulting springs, 
 
 And evening folds her drooping wings. 
 
 Bright heralds of the Eternal Will, 
 
 Abroad His errands ye fulfil; 
 
 Or, throned in floods of beamy day, 
 Symphonious in His presence play. 
 
 Loud is the song,—the heavenly plain 
 Is shaken with the choral strain ; 
 
 And dying echoes, floating far, 
 
 Draw music from each chiming star. 
 
FORGIVENESS 
 
 261 
 
 FORGIVENESS 
 
 But I amid your choirs shall shine, 
 
 And all your knowledge shall be mine : 
 
 Ye on your harps must lean to hear 
 A secret chord that mine will bear !— Hillhouse. 
 
 1306. FORGIVENESS : divine. 
 
 Good nature and good sense must ever join : 
 
 To err is human ; to forgive, divine.— Pope. 
 
 I 3 ° 7 - FORGIVENESS ; enjoined. 
 
 Forgive thy foe;—nor that alone, 
 
 His evil deed with good repay ; 
 
 Fill those with joy who leave thee none, 
 
 And kiss the hand upraised to slay. 
 
 From the Persian. 
 
 1308. FORGIVENESS. Generous 
 
 ’Tis easier for the generous to forgive 
 Than for offence to ask it.— Thomson. 
 
 I 3 ° 9 - FORGIVENESS: granted. 
 
 Kneel not to me ; 
 
 The power that I have on you, is to spare you ; 
 The malice towards you, to forgive you : live 
 And deal with others better.— Shakespeare. 
 
 I’ll not chide thee : 
 
 Let shame come when it will, I do not call it; 
 
 I do not bid the thunder-bearer shoot, 
 
 Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove : 
 
 Mend when thou canst; be better at thy leisure. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 I 3 I °- FORGIVENESS. Human 
 
 When on the fragrant sandal tree 
 The woodman’s axe descends, 
 
 And she, who bloom’d so beauteously, 
 
 Beneath the weapon bends— 
 
 E’en on the edge that wrought her death, 
 
 Dying she breathes her sweetest breath, 
 
 As if to token in her fall 
 Peace to her foes, and love to all. 
 
 How hardly man this lesson learns, 
 
 To smile, and bless the hand that spurns; 
 
 To see the blow, to feel the pain, 
 
 And render only love again ! 
 
 One had it—but He came from heaven, 
 
 Reviled, rejected, and betray’d ; 
 
 No curse He breathed, no plaint He made, 
 
 But when in death’s dark pang He sigh’d, 
 
 Pray’d for His murderers, and died. 
 
 Edmeston. 
 
 1 3 11 • FORGIVENESS: needed daily. 
 
 Up the long slope of this low sandy shore 
 Are roll’d the tidal waters day by day; 
 
 Traces of wandering feet are wash’d away, 
 
 Relics of busy hands are seen no more. 
 
 The soil’d and trampled surface is smooth’d o’er 
 By punctual waves that high behests obey; 
 
 Once and again the tides assert their sway, 
 
 And o’er the sands their cleansing waters pour. 
 
 Even so, Lord, daily, hourly, o’er my soul 
 
 Sin-stain’d and care-worn, let Thy heavenly grace 
 A blest, atoning flood—Divinely roll, 
 
 And all the footsteps of the world efface ; 
 
 That like the wave-wash’d sand this soul of mine, 
 Spotless and fair, smooth and serene, may shine ! 
 
 I 3 ! 2 . FORGIVENESS : never practised by the 
 wrong-doer. 
 
 Forgiveness to the injured does belong ; 
 
 But they ne’er pardon, who commit the wrong. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 I 3 I 3 * FORGIVENESS. Nobility of 
 
 Though with their high wrongs I am struck to the 
 quick, 
 
 Yet, with my nobler reason, ’gainst my fury 
 Do I take part: the rarer action is 
 In virtue than in vengeance. —Shakespedre. 
 
 Some grave their wrongs on marble ; he, more just, 
 Stoop’d down serene, and wrote them on the dust : 
 Trod under-foot, the sport of every wind. 
 
 Swept from the earth, and blotted from his mind ; 
 There, secret in the grave, he bade them lie, 
 
 And grieved they could not ’scape th’ Almighty’s eye. 
 
 Madden. 
 
 I 3 I 4 * FORGIVENESS. Prayer for 
 
 Though in the secret paths of sin I trod, 
 
 Yet do not quite forsake me, O my God ! 
 
 ’Tis Thou alone canst ease me of my pain, 
 
 Thy healing hand can wash out every stain, 
 
 Can cleanse my soul, and make the leper clean. 
 Speak, Love Divine, and bid the suppliant live, 
 Oh, let mine ear but hail the word, '■Forgive!' 
 
 Daniel. 
 
 13 x 5 * FORGIVENESS. Restitution essential to 
 Oh, what form of prayer 
 
 Can serve my turn ? Forgive me my foul murder !— 
 That cannot be ; since I am still possess’d 
 Of those effects for which I did the murder, 
 
 My crown, mine own ambition, and my queen. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
FORMALISTS 
 
 262 
 
 FORTUNE 
 
 1316. FORMALISTS. 
 
 There are a sort of men, whose visages 
 Do cream and mantle, like a standing pond; 
 
 And do a wilful stillness entertain, 
 
 With purpose to be drest in an opinion 
 Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit; 
 
 As who should say, I am Sir Oracle, 
 
 And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark ! 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Oh ! I see thee old and formal, fitted to thy petty 
 part,— 
 
 With a little hoard of maxims preaching down a 
 daughter’s heart!— Tennyson. 
 
 1317. FORMALITY. Church 
 
 A man may cry church ! church ! at every word, 
 With no more piety than other people,— 
 
 A daw’s not reckon’d a religious bird 
 
 Because it keeps a-cawing from a steeple; 
 
 The Temple is a good, a holy place, 
 
 But quacking only gives it an ill savour, 
 
 While saintly mountebanks the porch disgrace, 
 
 And bring religion’s self into disfavour !— Hood. 
 
 1318. FORTITUDE. Advantage of 
 
 Wise men ne’er sit and wail their loss, 
 
 But cheerly seek how to redress their harms. 
 
 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 it 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 splits on a rock, 
 Which industry and courage might have saved ? 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Brave spirits are a balsam to themselves : 
 There is a nobleness of mind, that heals 
 Wounds beyond salves.— Cartwright. 
 
 1319. FORTITUDE. Cultivating 
 
 Existence may be borne, and the deep root 
 Of life and sufferance make its firm abode 
 In base and desolate bosoms : mute 
 
 The camel labours with the heaviest load, 
 
 And the wolf dies in silence : not bestow’d 
 In vain should such example be ; if they, 
 
 Things of ignoble or of savage mood, 
 
 Endure and shrink not, we of nobler clay 
 May temper it to bear—it is but for a day. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 1320. FORTITUDE. Incentive to 
 
 Oh, never from thy tempted heart 
 Let thine integrity depart ! 
 
 When disappointment fills the cup, 
 Undaunted, nobly drink it up ; 
 
 Truth will prevail, and justice show 
 Her tardy honours, sure though slow. 
 
 Bear on—bear bravely on ! 
 
 Bear on ! Our life is not a dream, 
 
 Though often such its mazes seem ; 
 
 We were not born for lives of ease, 
 
 Ourselves alone to aid and please. 
 
 To each a daily task is given, 
 
 A labour which shall fit for heaven ; 
 
 When duty calls, let love grow warm ; 
 
 Amid the sunshine and the storm, 
 
 With faith life’s trials boldly breast, 
 
 And come a conqueror to thy rest. 
 
 Bear on—bear bravely on! 
 
 1321. FORTITUDE. Philosophic 
 
 Yet well thy soul hath brook’d the turning tide 
 With that untaught innate philosophy, 
 
 Which, be it wisdom, coldness, or deep pride, 
 
 Is gall and wormwood to an enemy. 
 
 When the whole host of hatred stood hard by, 
 
 To watch and mock the shrinking, thou hast smiled 
 With a sedate and all-enduring eye ; 
 
 When Fortune fled her spoil’d and favourite child, 
 He stood unbow’d beneath the ills upon him piled. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 1322. FORTITUDE: revealed by adversity. 
 
 There is strength 
 Deep-bedded in our hearts, of which we reck 
 But little till the shafts of heaven have pierced 
 Its fragile dwelling. Must not earth be rent 
 Before her gems are found ?— Mrs Ilemans. 
 
 1323. FORTITUDE. True 
 
 True fortitude is seen in great exploits 
 That justice warrants, and that wisdom guides : 
 All else is tow’ring frenzy and distraction. 
 
 Addison. 
 
 1324. FORTUNE. Blaming 
 
 Look into those they call unfortunate, 
 
 And closer view’d you’ll find they are unwise : 
 Some flaw in their own conduct lies beneath, 
 And ’tis the trick of fools to save their credit, 
 Which brought another language into use. 
 
 Young. 
 

 FORTUNE 
 
 263 
 
 FORTUNE 
 
 1325. FORTUNE. Change of 
 
 When Fortune smiles and looks serene, 
 
 ’Tis ‘ Pray, sir, how d’ye do, 
 
 Your family are well, I hope ; 
 
 Can I serve them or you?’ 
 
 But if, perchance, her scale should turn, 
 
 And with it change your plight, 
 
 ’Tis then, ‘ I’m sorry for your fate, 
 
 But times are hard—good-night.’ 
 
 1326. FORTUNE. Counterpoise of 
 
 Will Fortune never come with both hands full, 
 
 But write her fair words still in foulest letters ? 
 
 She either gives a stomach and no food,— 
 
 Such are the poor in health ; or else a feast, 
 
 And takes away the stomach,—such the rich, 
 
 That have abundance and enjoy it not.— Shakespeare. 
 
 1327. FORTUNE. Extremes of 
 
 Extremes of fortune are true wisdom’s test, 
 
 And he’s of men most wise who bears them best. 
 
 Cumberland. 
 
 When Fortune sends a stormy wind, 
 
 Then show a brave and present mind; 
 
 And when with too indulgent gales 
 She swells too much, then furl thy sails. 
 
 Creech. 
 
 1328. FORTUNE. Folly of idle waiting on 
 
 Wisdom, whose strong-built plots 
 Leave nought to hazard, mocks thy futile power; 
 Industrious labour drags thee by the locks, 
 
 Bound to his toiling car, and not attending 
 Till thou dispense, reaches his own reward : 
 
 Only the lazy sluggard yawning lies 
 Before the threshold, gaping for thy dole, 
 
 And licks the easy hand that feeds his sloth; 
 
 The shallow, rash, and unadvised man 
 Makes thee his state, disburthens all the follies 
 Of his misguided actions on thy shoulders.— Carew. 
 
 1329. FORTUNE. Frowns of 
 
 When Fortune means to men most good, 
 
 She looks upon them with a threat’ning eye. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Let not one look of Fortune cast you down ; 
 
 She were not Fortune if she did not frown : 
 
 Such as do braveliest bear her scorns awhile 
 Are those on whom at last she most will smile. 
 
 1330. FORTUNE : her gifts. 
 
 Alas ! the joys that Fortune brings 
 Are trifling, and decay ; 
 
 And those who prize the trifling things, 
 
 More trifling still than they.— Goldsmith. 
 
 1331. FORTUNE. Ill-gotten 
 
 That fortune still must be with ill maintain’d, 
 Which at the first with any ill is gain’d. 
 
 Lord Brook. 
 
 1332. FORTUNE. Reverses of 
 
 In losing fortune, many a lucky elf 
 Has found himself; 
 
 As all our moral bitters are design’d 
 To brace the mind, 
 
 And renovate its healthy tone, the wise 
 Their sorest trials hail as blessings in disguise. 
 
 Horace Smith. 
 
 1:333. FORTUNE. Seizing 
 
 The old Scythians 
 
 Painted blind Fortune’s powerful hands with wings, 
 To show her gifts come swift and suddenly, 
 
 Which, if her favourite be not swift to take, 
 
 He loses them for ever.— Chapman. 
 
 1334. FORTUNE. Superiority to 
 
 Blest are those 
 
 Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled, 
 That they are not a pipe for Fortune’s finger 
 To sound what stop she please.— Shakespeare. 
 
 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.— Dryden. 
 
 The weak low spirit Fortune makes her slave ; 
 
 But she’s a drudge when hector’d by the brave. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 Fortune’s an under-power, that is herself 
 Commanded by desert. ’Tis a mere vainness 
 Of our credulity to give her more 
 Than her due attribute ; which is but servant 
 To an heroic spirit.— Nabb. 
 
 1 335 - FORTUNE : turns on little things. 
 
 What trivial influences hold dominion 
 
 O’er wise men’s counsels, and the fate of empire ! 
 
 The greatest schemes that human wit can forge, 
 
 Or bold ambition dares to put in practice, 
 
FORTUNE 
 
 264 
 
 FOUNDATIONS 
 
 Depend upon our husbanding a moment, 
 
 And the light lasting of a woman’s will; 
 
 As if the Lord of nature should delight 
 To hang this ponderous globe upon a hair, 
 
 And bid it dance before a breath of wind.— Rowe. 
 
 Oft, what seems 
 
 A trifle, a mere nothing, by itself, 
 
 In some nice situation, turns the scale 
 Of fate, and rules the most important actions. 
 
 Thoynson. 
 
 1336. FORTUNE. Uncertainty of 
 
 Who thinks that Fortune cannot change her mind, 
 Prepares a dreadful jest for all mankind. 
 
 And who stands safest ? tell me, is it he 
 That spreads and swells in puff’d prosperity ? 
 
 Or blest with little, whose preventing care 
 In peace provides fit arms against a war ?— Pope. 
 
 All human projects are so faintly framed, 
 
 So feebly plann’d, so liable to change, 
 
 So mix'd with error in their very form, 
 
 That mutable and mortal are the same. 
 
 Hannah More. 
 
 1337 * FORTUNE. Undeserved 
 
 Many dream not to find, neither deserve, 
 
 And yet are steep’d in favours. — Shakespeare. 
 
 1338. FORTUNE. Unkindness of 
 
 For herein Fortune shows herself more kind 
 Than is her custom : it is still her use 
 To let the wretched man outlive his wealth, 
 
 To view with hollow eye and wrinkled brow 
 An age of poverty.— Shakespeare. 
 
 1339. FORTUNE. Waiting on 
 
 To catch dame Fortune’s golden smile, 
 Assiduous wait upon her ; 
 
 And gather gear by every wile 
 That’s justified by honour. 
 
 Not for to hide it in a hedge, 
 
 Nor for a train attendant ; 
 
 But for the glorious privilege 
 Of being independent. — Buryis. 
 
 1340. FORTUNE. Winning 
 
 Fortunes are made, if I the facts may state— 
 Though poor myself, I know the fortunate : 
 
 First, there’s a knowledge of the way from whence 
 Good fortune comes—and this is sterling sense: 
 Then perseverance, never to decline 
 The chase of riches till the prey is thine ; 
 
 And firmness never to be drawn away 
 By any passion from that noble prey— 
 
 By love, ambition, study, travel, fame, 
 
 Or the vain hope that lives upon a name.— Crabbe. 
 
 1341. FOUNDATION. The Sure 
 
 Why build ye on the unsteady sand, 
 
 A worthless house that cannot stand ? 
 
 Behold, in winter’s stormy day, 
 
 That frail support will glide away, 
 
 And rising billows lightly sweep 
 Your fortress to the yawning deep. 
 
 God hath a sure foundation given, 
 
 Fix’d as the firm decrees of heaven: 
 
 The changeless, everlasting rock, 
 
 That braves the storm, and bides the shock; 
 There build : the gates of hell in vain 
 Against that Rock their war maintain. 
 
 Christ is the Rock, the Corner Stone, 
 
 Faith rears her beauteous house thereon ; 
 Adorn’d with works of willing love, 
 
 And pointing to the scenes above; 
 
 W here faith and hope their sway resign, 
 Swallow’d in sight, and joy divine. 
 
 Charlotte Elizabeth. 
 
 1342* FOUNDATIONS. Deep 
 
 Let them that would build castles in the air, 
 
 Vault thither, without step or stair, 
 
 Instead of feet to climb, take wings to fly, 
 
 And think their turrets top the sky. 
 
 But let me lay all my foundations deep, 
 
 And learn before I run, to creep. 
 
 Who digs through rocks, to lay his groundwork low, 
 May in good time build high, and sure, though slow. 
 
 Harvey. 
 
 1343. FOUNDATIONS. Unsafe 
 
 Build’st thou on Wealth ? : —its wings are ever spread 
 Its trusting votaries to elude and fail; 
 
 On Science?—see ! his favourite sons have fled 
 Like the pale lamp that lit their midnight toil, 
 Forgotten as the flower that deck’d the vernal soil. 
 
 Build’st thou on Love ?—the simple heart it cheers 
 When high in health, and all around is gay, 
 
 Yet leads to folly, vanity, and tears : 
 
 Build’st thou on Fame?—the dancing meteor’s ray 
 Glides not more swift, more unperceived away. 
 
 Ah ! why on sands like these thy temple rear ? 
 
 How shall its base the storms and billows shun ? 
 Seek the Eternal Rock with humble fear, 
 
 And on the tablet of each setting sun 
 Grave with a diamond’s point some deed of duty 
 done. 
 
FRAILTY 
 
 265 
 
 FREEDOM 
 
 1344. FRAILTY. Grades of 
 
 Frail creatures are we all! To be the best. 
 
 Is but the fewest faults to have : 
 
 Look thou then to thyself, and leave the rest 
 
 To God, thy conscience, and the grave. 
 
 Coleridge. 
 
 1345. FRAILTY. Human 
 
 Weak and irresolute is man ; 
 
 The purpose of to-day, 
 
 Woven with pains into his plan, 
 To-morrow rends away. 
 
 The bow well bent, and smart the spring, 
 Vice seems already slain; 
 
 But passion rudely snaps the string, 
 
 And it revives again. 
 
 Some foe to his upright intent 
 Finds out his weaker part; 
 
 Virtue engages his assent, 
 
 But pleasure wins his heart. 
 
 ’Tis here the folly of the wise 
 Through all his art we view ; 
 
 And while his tongue the charge denies, 
 His conscience owns it true. 
 
 Bound on a voyage of awful length 
 And dangers little known, 
 
 A stranger to superior strength, 
 
 Man vainly trusts his own. 
 
 But oars alone can ne’er prevail 
 To reach the distant coast; 
 
 The breath of Heaven must swell the sail, 
 Or all the toil is lost.— Cowper. 
 
 1346. FRATERNITY. Triumph of 
 
 ’Tis coming up the steep of time, 
 
 And this old world is growing brighter ; 
 
 We may not see its dawn sublime, 
 
 Yet high hopes make the heart throb lighter. 
 
 We may be sleeping in the ground 
 When it awakes the world in wonder ; 
 
 But we have felt it gathering round, 
 
 And heard its voice in living thunder— 
 
 ’Tis coming ! yes, ’tis coming ! 
 
 ’Tis coming now, the glorious time 
 Foretold by seers and sung in story: 
 
 For which, when thinking was a crime, 
 
 Souls leapt to heaven from scaffolds gory ! 
 
 They pass’d, nor see the work they wrought; 
 
 Now the crown’d hopes of centuries blossom ! 
 
 But the live lightning of their thought 
 
 And daring deeds doth pulse earth’s bosom— 
 ’Tis coming ! yes, ’tis coming ! 
 
 Creeds, empires, systems rot with age, 
 
 But the great people’s ever youthful! 
 
 And it shall write the future’s page 
 To our humanity more truthful! 
 
 The gnarliest heart hath tender chords, 
 
 To waken at the name of ‘ brother ; ’ 
 
 And time comes when brain-scorpion words 
 We shall not speak to sting each other— 
 
 ’Tis coming ! yes, ’tis coming ! 
 
 Fraternity ! Love’s other name ! 
 
 Dear, heaven-connecting link of being ! 
 
 Then shall we grasp thy golden dream, 
 
 As souls, full-statured, grow far-seeing ; 
 
 Then shall unfold our better part, 
 
 And in our life-cup yield more honey ; 
 
 Light up with joy the poor man’s heart 
 
 And Love’s own world with smiles more sunny— 
 ’Tis coming ! yes, ’tis coming. 
 
 Ay, it must come ! The tyrant’s throne 
 Is crumbling, with our hot tears rusted: 
 
 The sword earth’s mighty ones have leant on 
 Is canker’d, with our heart’s blood crusted. 
 
 Room ! for the men of mind make way ! 
 
 Ye robber rulers, pause no longer, 
 
 Ye cannot stay the opening day ! 
 
 The world rolls on, the light grows stronger— 
 
 The people’s advent’s coming ! 
 
 Gerald Massey. 
 
 1347. FREEDOM. Christian 
 
 He is the freeman whom the truth makes free, 
 And all are slaves beside. There’s not a chain 
 That hellish foes confederate for his harm 
 Can wind around him, but he casts it off 
 With as much ease as Samson his green withes. 
 He looks abroad into the varied field 
 Of nature ; and though poor, perhaps, compared 
 With those whose mansions glitter in his sight, 
 Calls the delightful scenery all his own. 
 
 His are the mountains, and the valley his, 
 
 And the resplendent rivers. His to enjoy 
 With a propriety that none can feel, 
 
 But who, with filial confidence inspired, 
 
 Can lift to heaven an unpresumptuous eye, 
 
 And smiling say, ‘ My Father made them all! ’ 
 Are they not his by a peculiar right, 
 
 And by an emphasis of interest his, 
 
 Whose eyes they fill with tears of holy joy, 
 
 Whose heart with praise, and whose exalted mind 
 With worthy thoughts of that unwearied love 
 That plann’d and built, and still upholds, a world 
 So clothed with beauty for rebellious man ? 
 
 Yes, ye may fill your garners, ye that reap 
 The loaded soil, and ye may waste much good 
 
FREEDOM 
 
 266 
 
 FREEDOM 
 
 In senseless riot; but ye will not find 
 In feast, or in the chase, in song or dance, 
 
 A liberty like his, who, unimpeach’d 
 Of usurpation, and to no man’s wrong, 
 Appropriates nature as his Father’s work, 
 
 And has a richer use of yours than you. 
 
 He is indeed a freeman. Free by birth 
 Of no mean city, plann’d or e’er the hills 
 Were built, the fountains open’d, or the sea 
 With all his roaring multitude of waves. 
 
 His freedom is the same in every state ; 
 
 \nd no condition of this changeful life, 
 
 So manifold in cares, whose every day 
 Brings its own evil with it, makes it less. 
 
 For he has wings that neither sickness, pain, 
 
 Nor penury can cripple or confine ; 
 
 No nook so narrow but he spreads them there 
 With ease, and is at large. The oppressor holds 
 His body bound; but knows not what a range 
 His spirit takes, unconscious of a chain ; 
 
 And that to bind him is a vain attempt, 
 
 Whom God delights in, and in whom He dwells. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 1348. FREEDOM. Dying for 
 
 Is’t death to fall for Freedom’s right ? 
 
 He’s dead alone who lacks her light! 
 
 Campbell. 
 
 J 349 - FREEDOM : essential to true happiness. 
 
 But what avail her unexhausted stores, 
 
 Her blooming mountains, and her sunny shores, 
 With all the gifts that heaven and earth impart, 
 The smiles of nature, and the charms of art, 
 
 While proud oppression in her valleys reigns, 
 
 And tyranny usurps her happy plains ?— Addison. 
 
 No ! Freedom has a thousand charms to show, 
 That slaves, howe’er contented, never know. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 Better to dwell in Freedom’s hall, 
 
 With a cold damp floor and mouldering wall, 
 Than bow the head and bend the knee 
 In the proudest palace of slavery.— Moore. 
 
 1350. FREEDOM. Foes of 
 
 And Freedom thus, of old, so often fell 
 Before Ambition, when the herd, that crawls 
 Within the crowded haunt, the sordid hell 
 Where luxury and lust have built their walls, 
 
 Sunk in each vice that deadens and enthralls, 
 Barter’d their unprized liberty for gold ;— 
 
 As the pure stream upon the palate palls. 
 
 When wine has fired the senses, so they sold 
 d he rights, that prouder hearts than being dearer 
 hold.— Percival. 
 
 1351. FREEDOM: from the passions. 
 
 Where honour or where conscience does not bind, 
 No other tie shall shackle me ; 
 
 Slave to myself I will not be ; 
 
 Nor shall my future actions be confined 
 By my own present mind.— Cowley. 
 
 Restraining others, yet himself not free ; 
 
 Made impotent by power, debased by dignity. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 I 35 2 * FREEDOM. Flope of 
 
 Slaves who once conceive the glowing thought 
 Of freedom, in that hope itself possess 
 All that the contest calls for ;—spirit, strength, 
 The scorn of danger, and united hearts, 
 
 The surest presage of the good they seek. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 J 353 * FREEDOM : how it is to be won. 
 
 Hereditary bondsmen ! know ye not. 
 
 Who would be free, themselves must strike the blow ? 
 
 Byron. 
 
 I 354 ' FREEDOM. Love of 
 
 Freedom who loves, must first be wise and good; 
 But from that mark how far they rove we see, 
 
 For all this waste of wealth and loss of blood. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 I 355 * FREEDOM: must be transmitted to our 
 children. 
 
 Let freedom never perish in your hands, 
 
 But piously transmit it to your children. 
 
 Addison. 
 
 In the long vista of the years to roll, 
 
 Let me not see my country’s honour fade ; 
 
 Oh ! let me see our land retain its soul! 
 
 Her pride in Freedom, and not Freedom’s shade. 
 
 Keats. 
 
 1356. FREEDOM: needs to be defended. 
 
 Oh ! not yet 
 
 May’st thou unbrace thy corslet, nor lay by 
 Thy sword, nor yet, O Freedom ! close thy lids 
 In slumber; for thine enemy never sleeps. 
 
 And thou must watch and combat, till the day 
 Of the new Earth and Heaven.— Bryant. 
 
 1 357 - FREEDOM: not always loved. 
 
 Nations grown corrupt 
 Love bondage more than liberty ; 
 
 Bondage with ease than strenuous liberty. 
 
 Milton. 
 
FREEDOM 
 
 267 
 
 FREE GRACE 
 
 1358. FREEDOM. Personification of 
 
 0 Freedom ! —thou art not as poets dream— 
 
 A fair young girl, with light and delicate limbs, 
 
 And wavy tresses gushing from the cap 
 
 With which the Roman master crown’d his slave 
 
 When he took off the gyves. A bearded man, 
 
 Arm’d to the teeth, art thou; one mailed hand 
 Grasps the broad shield, and one the sword; thy 
 brow, 
 
 Glorious in beauty though it be, is scarr’d 
 With tokens of old wars ; thy massive limbs 
 Are strong with struggling. Power at thee has 
 launch’d 
 
 His bolts, and with his lightnings smitten thee ; 
 
 They could not quench the life thou hast from heaven ; 
 Merciless Power has dug thy dungeon deep, 
 
 And his swart armourers, by a thousand fires, 
 
 Flave forged thy chain; yet while he deems thee 
 bound, 
 
 The links are shiver’d, and the prison-walls 
 Fall outward ; terribly thou springest forth, 
 
 As springs the flame above a burning pile, 
 
 And shoutest to the nations, who return 
 Thy shoutings, while the pale oppressor flies. 
 
 Bryant. 
 
 1359. FREEDOM. Preciousness of 
 
 What art thou, Freedom ? Oh! could slaves 
 Answer from their living graves 
 This demand, tyrants would flee 
 Like a dream’s dim imagery ! 
 
 Thou art Justice—ne’er for gold 
 May thy righteous laws be sold, 
 
 As laws are in England : thou 
 Shieldest alike high and low. 
 
 Thou art Peace—never by thee 
 Would blood and treasure wasted be, 
 
 As tyrants wasted them when all 
 Leagued to quench thy flame in Gaul! 
 
 Thou art Love : the rich have kist 
 Thy feet, and like him following Christ, 
 
 Given their substance to be free, 
 
 And through the world have follow’d thee. 
 
 Shelley. 
 
 1360. FREEDOM. Progress of 
 
 I watch the circle of the eternal years, 
 
 And read for ever in the storied page 
 One lengthen’d roll of blood, and wrong, and tears— 
 One onward step of truth from age to age. 
 
 The poor are crush’d, the tyrants link their chain ; 
 
 The poet sings through narrow dungeon-grates ; 
 Man’s hope lies quench’d ;—and, lo ! with steadfast 
 gain 
 
 Freedom doth forge her mail of adverse fates. 
 
 Men slay the prophets ; faggot, rack, and cross 
 Make up the groaning record of the past; 
 
 But Evil’s triumphs are her endless loss, 
 
 And sovereign Beauty wins the soul at last. 
 
 Lowell. 
 
 1361. FREEDOM : the heritage of the innocent. 
 
 Stone walls do not a prison make, 
 
 Nor iron bars a cage ; 
 
 Minds innocent and quiet take 
 That for an heritage. 
 
 If I have freedom in my love, 
 
 And in my soul am free, 
 
 Angels alone, that soar above, 
 
 Enjoy such liberty. 
 
 Lovelace—To Althea, from prison. 
 
 1362. FREEDOM. True 
 
 True freedom is where no restraint is known, 
 That Scripture, justice, and good sense disown, 
 Where only vice and injury are tied, 
 
 And all from shore to shore is free beside. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 1363. FREE GRACE. Message of 
 
 I say to thee, do thou repeat 
 To the first man thou mayest meet 
 In lane, highway, or open street— 
 
 That he and we and all men move 
 Under a canopy of love, 
 
 As broad as the blue sky above ; 
 
 That doubt and trouble, fear and pain 
 And anguish, all are shadows vain, 
 
 That death itself shall not remain ; 
 
 That weary deserts we may tread, 
 
 A dreary labyrinth may thread, 
 
 Through dark ways underground be led ; 
 
 Yet, if we will one Guide obey, 
 
 The dreariest path, the darkest way, 
 
 Shall issue out in heavenly day ; 
 
 And we, on divers shores now cast, 
 
 Shall meet, our perilous voyage past, 
 
 All in our Father’s house at last. 
 
 And ere thou leave him, say thou this, 
 
 Yet one word more they only miss, 
 
 The winning of that final bliss, 
 
 Who will not count it true, that Love, 
 Blessing, not cursing, rules above, 
 
 And that in it we live and move. 
 
 And one thing further make him know, 
 
 That to believe these things are so, 
 
 This firm faith never to forego, 
 
FREE-WILL 
 
 268 
 
 FREE- WILL 
 
 Despite of all which seems at strife 
 With blessing, all with curses rife, 
 
 That this is blessing, this is life. — Trench. 
 
 1364. FREE-WILL. Discussions concerning 
 
 Others apart sat on a hill retired, 
 
 In thoughts more elevate, and reason’d high 
 Of providence, foreknowledge, will, and fate, 
 Fix’d fate, free-will, foreknowledge absolute ; 
 
 And found no end, in wandering mazes lost. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 1365. FREE-WILL : distinguishes man from the 
 
 lower animals. 
 
 Th’ Eternal when He did the world create 
 All other agents did necessitate ; 
 
 So what He order’d they by nature do ; 
 
 Thus light things mount, and heavy downward 
 go: 
 
 Man only boasts an arbitrary state.— Dryden. 
 
 1366. FREE-WILL: essential to virtue. 
 
 Our voluntary service He requires, 
 
 Not our necessitated ; such with Him 
 Finds no acceptance, nor can find ; for how 
 Can hearts, not free, be tried whether they serve 
 Willing or no, who will but what they must 
 By destiny, and can no other choose ?— Milton. 
 
 Man shall be bless’d, as far as man permits. 
 
 Not man alone—all rationals, Heaven arms 
 With an illustrious, but tremendous power 
 To counteract its own most gracious ends ; 
 
 And this, of strict necessity, not choice. 
 
 That power denied, men, angels, were no more 
 But passive engines, void of praise or blame. 
 
 A nature rational implies the power 
 Of being bless’d or wretched, as we please— 
 
 Else idle reason would have nought to do ; 
 
 And he that would be barr’d capacity 
 Of pain, courts incapacity of bliss. 
 
 Heaven wills our happiness—allows our doom ; 
 Invites us ardently, but not compels ; 
 
 Heaven but persuades—almighty man decrees. 
 Man is the maker of immortal fates.— Young. 
 
 Where had been 
 
 The test of Faith if the expanded arm 
 Of Heaven, in glory and in power display’d, 
 
 Had curb’d the freedom of the human will, 
 
 Nor left the scope of choice !— Hayes. 
 
 1367. FREE-WILL. Foreknowledge and 
 
 Man (ingenious to contrive his woe, 
 
 And rob himself of all that makes this vale 
 
 Of tears bloom comfort) cries, If God foresees 
 Our future actings, then the objects known 
 Must be determined, or the knowledge fail; 
 
 Thus liberty’s destroy’d, and all we do 
 Or suffer, by a fatal thread is spun. 
 
 Say, fool, with too much subtilty misled, 
 
 Who reasonest but to err, does Prescience change 
 The property of things? Is aught thou seest 
 Caused by thy vision, not thy vision caused 
 By forms that previously exist? To God 
 This mode of seeing future deeds extends, 
 
 And freedom with foreknowledge may exist. 
 
 Bally. 
 
 1368. FREE-WILL : implies the power to err. 
 
 Faultless thou dropt from His unerring skill, 
 With the base power to sin, since free of will; 
 
 Yet charge not with thy guilt His bounteous love ; 
 For who has power to walk, has power to rove. 
 
 A rbuthnot. 
 
 1369. FREE-WILL : in what it consists. 
 
 For what is freedom, but the unfetter’d use 
 Of all the powers which God for use had given ? 
 But chiefly this, Him first, Him last to view 
 Through meaner powers and secondary things 
 Effulgent, as through clouds that veil His blaze. 
 
 Coleridge. 
 
 1370. FREE-WILL. Inference of 
 
 We drive the furrow with the share of faith 
 Through the waste fields of life, and our own hands 
 Sow thick the seeds that spring to weeds or flowers; 
 And never strong necessity nor fate 
 Trammels the soul that firmly says I will! 
 
 Else are we playthings, and ’tis Satan’s mock 
 To preach to us repentance and belief.— Alice Carey. 
 
 1371. FREE-WILL. Issues of 
 
 So from the heights of will 
 Life’s parting stream descends, 
 
 And, as a moment turns its slender rill, 
 
 Each widening torrent bends. 
 
 From the same cradle’s side, 
 
 From the same mother’s knee, 
 
 One to long darkness and the frozen tide, 
 
 One to the peaceful sea !— Hobnes. 
 
 1372. FREE-WILL: leaves man without excuse 
 
 for his sins. 
 
 Man seduced, 
 
 And flatter’d out of all, believing lies 
 Against his Maker : no decree of mine 
 Concurring to necessitate his fall.— Milton. 
 
FREE- WILL 
 
 269 
 
 FRIEND 
 
 Perverse mankind ! whose wills, created free, 
 Charge all their woes on absolute decree ; 
 
 All to the dooming gods their guilt translate. 
 
 And follies are miscall’d the crimes of fate.— Pope. 
 
 Grace leads the right way : if you choose the wrong, 
 Take it, and perish, but restrain your tongue; 
 Charge not, with light sufficient, and left free. 
 
 Your wilful suicide on God’s decree. — Cowper. 
 
 1373. FREE-WILL : lost. 
 
 By original lapse, true liberty 
 
 Is lost, which always with right reason dwells, 
 
 Twined, and from her hath no dividual being. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 1374. FREE-WILL: the basis of responsibility. 
 
 God made thee perfect, not immutable, 
 
 And good He made thee, but to persevere 
 He left it in thy power ; ordain’d thy will 
 By nature free, not overruled by fate 
 Inextricable, or strict necessity.— Milton. 
 
 Heaven made us agents, free to good or ill; 
 
 And forced it not, though He foresaw the will: 
 Freedom was first bestow’d on human race, 
 
 And prescience only held the second place. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 Placed for his trial on this bustling stage, 
 
 From thoughtless youth to ruminating age, 
 
 Free in his will to choose or to refuse, 
 
 Man may improve the crisis, or abuse ; 
 
 Else, on the fatalist’s unrighteous plan, 
 
 Say to what bar amenable were man ? 
 
 With nought in charge he could betray no trust; 
 And if he fell, would fall because he must ; 
 
 If Love reward him, or if Vengeance strike, 
 
 His recompense in both unjust alike.— Cowper. 
 
 Each had his conscience, each his reason, will, 
 And understanding for himself to search, 
 
 To choose, reject, believe, consider, act; 
 
 And God proclaim’d from heaven, and by an oath 
 Confirm’d, that each should answer for himself ; 
 And as his own peculiar work should be 
 Done by his proper self, should live or die. 
 
 Pollok. 
 
 1375. FRETFULNESS. Traits of 
 
 Some fretful tempers wince at every touch, 
 
 You always do too little or too much: 
 
 You speak with life, in hopes to entertain, 
 
 Your elevated voice goes through the brain ; 
 
 You fall at once into a lower key, 
 
 That’s worse—the drone-pipe of an humble-bee. 
 
 The southern sash admits too strong a light, 
 
 You rise and drop the curtain—now ’tis night. 
 
 He shakes with cold—you stir the fire and strive 
 To make a blaze—that’s roasting him alive. 
 
 Serve him with venison, and he chooses fish; 
 
 What, sole ?—that’s just the sort he would not wish. 
 He takes what he at first profess’d to loathe, 
 
 And in due time feeds heartily on both ; 
 
 Y et still, o’erclouded with a constant frown, 
 
 He does not swallow, but he gulps it down. 
 
 Your hope to please him vain on every plan, 
 Himself should work that wonder if he can— 
 
 Alas ! his efforts double his distress, 
 
 He likes yours little, and his own still less. 
 
 Thus always teasing others, always teased. 
 
 His only pleasure is to be displeased.— Cowper. 
 
 1376. FRIEND. Confidence in a 
 
 Reserve will wound it; and distrust destroy. 
 Deliberate on all things with thy friend. 
 
 But since friends grow not thick on every bough, 
 Nor every friend unrotten at the core, 
 
 First, on thy friend, deliberate with thyself: 
 
 Pause, ponder, sift; not eager in the choice, 
 
 Nor jealous of the chosen ; fixing, fix: 
 
 Judge before friendship, then confide till death. 
 Well, for thy friend ; but nobler far for thee: 
 
 How gallant danger for earth’s highest prize ! 
 
 A friend is worth all hazards we can run. 
 
 ‘ Poor is the friendless master of a world : 
 
 A world in purchase for a friend is gain. ’— Young. 
 
 1377. FRIEND. A Constant 
 
 When adversities flow. 
 
 Then love ebbs: but friendship standeth stiffly 
 In storms. Time draweth wrinkles in a fair 
 Face, but addeth fresh colours to a fast 
 Friend, which neither heat, nor cold, nor misery, 
 Nor place, nor destiny, can alter or 
 Diminish. O friendship ! of all things the 
 Most rare, and therefore most rare because most 
 Excellent; whose comforts in misery 
 Are always sweet, and whose counsels in 
 Prosperity are ever fortunate. 
 
 Vain love ! that only coming near to friendship 
 In name, would seem to be the same, or better, 
 
 In nature.— Lilly. 
 
 1378. FRIEND. A Departed 
 
 Another hand is beckoning us, 
 
 Another call is given ; 
 
 And glows once more with angel-steps 
 The path which reaches heaven. 
 
FRIEND 
 
 270 
 
 FRIENDS 
 
 Our young and gentle friend, whose smile 
 Made brighter summer hours. 
 
 Amid the frosts of autumn time 
 Has left us with the flowers. 
 
 No paling of the cheek of bloom 
 Forewarn’d us of decay ; 
 
 No shadow from the silent land 
 Fell round our sister’s way. 
 
 The light of her young life went down, 
 
 As sinks behind the hill 
 
 The glory of a setting star— 
 
 Clear, suddenly, and still. 
 
 The blessing of her quiet life 
 Fell on us like the dew; 
 
 And good thoughts, where her footsteps press’d, 
 Like fairy blossoms grew. 
 
 Sweet promptings unto kindest deeds 
 Were in her very look ; 
 
 We read her face, as one who reads 
 A true and holy book : ' 
 
 The measure of a blessed hymn, 
 
 To which our hearts could move ; 
 
 The breathing of an inward psalm ; 
 
 A canticle of love. 
 
 We miss her in the place of prayer, 
 
 And by the hearth-fire’s light; 
 
 We pause beside her door to hear 
 Once more her sweet ‘ Good-night! * 
 
 There seems a shadow on the day, 
 
 Her smile no longer cheers ; 
 
 A dimness on the stars of night, 
 
 Like eyes that look through tears. 
 
 Alone unto our Father’s will 
 One thought hath reconciled ; 
 
 d hat He whose love exceedeth ours 
 Hath taken home His child. 
 
 Fold her, O Father ! in Thine arms, 
 
 And let her henceforth be 
 
 A messenger of love between 
 Our human hearts and Thee. 
 
 Still let her mild rebuking stand 
 Between us and the wrong, 
 
 And her dear memory serve to make 
 Our faith in goodness strong. 
 
 And grant that she who, trembling, here 
 Distrusted all her powers, 
 
 May welcome to her holier home 
 The well-beloved of ours.— Whittier. 
 
 1 379 * FRIEND. The Candid 
 
 Give me the avow’d, the erect, the manly foe; 
 
 Bold I can meet—perhaps may turn his blow ; 
 
 But of all plagues, good Heaven, Thy wrath can send, 
 Save, save, oh ! save me from the Candid Friend. 
 
 Canning. 
 
 1380. FRIEND. The True 
 
 The true friend is not he who holds up Flattery’s 
 mirror, 
 
 In which the face to thy conceit most pleasing 
 hovers ; 
 
 But he who kindly shows thee all thy vices, Sirrah! 
 And helps thee mend them ere an enemy discovers. 
 
 Oriental, tr. by Alger. 
 
 1381. FRIENDS. Best 
 
 Let others boast them as they may 
 Of spirits kind and true, 
 
 Whose gentle words and loving smiles 
 Have cheer’d them on life through ; 
 
 And though they count of friends a host, 
 
 To bless the paths they’ve trod, 
 
 These are the ones have loved me most, 
 
 My mother, wife, and God ! 
 
 Richard Coe, Jr. 
 
 1382. FRIENDS. Choice of 
 
 Turn him, and see his threads: look, if he be 
 Friend to himself, that would be friend to thee: 
 For that is first required, a man to be his own ; 
 
 But he that’s too much that, is friend to none. 
 
 Jon son. 
 
 True happiness 
 Consists not in the multitude of friends, 
 
 But m the worth and choice: nor would I have 
 Virtue a popular regard pursue: 
 
 Let them be good that love, although but few. 
 
 Jons on. 
 
 Friends, not adopted with a schoolboy’s haste. 
 
 But chosen with a nice discerning taste, 
 
 Well born, well disciplined, who, placed apart 
 From vulgar minds, have honour much at heart, 
 
 And (though the world may think the ingredients 
 odd) 
 
 The love of virtue, and the fear of God ! 
 
 Such friends prevent what else would soon succeed, 
 
 A temper rustic as the life we lead, 
 
 And keep the polish of the manners clean 
 As theirs who bustle in the busiest scene. — Cowper. 
 
 1383. FRIENDS. Christ’s 
 
 Christ had His friends—His eye could trace 
 In the long train of coming years, 
 
FRIENDS 
 
 271 
 
 FRIENDS 
 
 The chosen children of His grace, 
 
 The full reward of all His tears. 
 
 These are His friends, and these are thine. 
 
 If thou to Him hast bow’d the knee ; 
 
 And where these ransom’d millions shine 
 Shall thy eternal mansion be. 
 
 1384. FRIENDS. Dying 
 
 We tread one path to glory, 
 
 Are guided by One hand, 
 
 And led in faith and patience 
 Unto one Fatherland ! 
 
 Then let this hour of parting 
 No bitter grief record, 
 
 But be an hour of union 
 
 More blessed with our Lord ! 
 
 With Him to guide and save us, 
 
 No changes that await, 
 
 No earthly separations, 
 
 Can leave us desolate !— Spitta. 
 
 1385. FRIENDS : easily separated. 
 
 Alas ! how light a cause may move 
 Dissension between hearts that love ! 
 
 Hearts that the world in vain had tried, 
 
 And sorrow but more closely tied; 
 
 That stood the storm when waves were rough, 
 Yet in a sunny hour fall off, 
 
 Like ships that have gone down at sea 
 When heaven was all tranquillity. — Moore. 
 
 1386. FRIENDS. Faithful 
 
 Much beautiful, and excellent, and fair 
 
 Was seen beneath the sun; but nought was seen 
 
 More beautiful, or excellent, or fair 
 
 Than face of faithful friend ; fairest when seen 
 
 In darkest day. And many sounds were sweet, 
 
 Most ravishing, and pleasant to the ear ; 
 
 But sweeter none than voice of faithful friend ; 
 Sweet always, sweetest heard in loudest storm. 
 Some I remember, and will ne’er forget; 
 
 My early friends, friends of my evil day ; 
 
 Friends in my mirth, friends in my misery too ; 
 Friends given by God in mercy and in love ; 
 
 My counsellors, my comforters, and guides ; 
 
 My joy in grief, my second bliss in joy ; 
 Companions of my young desires ; in doubt 
 My oracles ; my wings in high pursuit. 
 
 Oh, I remember, and will ne’er forget, 
 
 Our meeting spots, our chosen sacred hours ; 
 
 Our burning words, that utter’d all the soul ; 
 
 Our faces beaming with unearthly love ; 
 
 Sorrow with sorrow sighing, hope with hope 
 
 Exulting, heart embracing heart entire.— Pollok. 
 
 1387. FRIENDS. False and True 
 
 False friends, like insects in a summer’s day, 
 Bask in the sunshine, but avoid the shower; 
 
 Uncertain visitants, they fly away, 
 
 E’en when misfortune’s cloud begins to lower. 
 
 Into life’s bitter cup true friendship drops 
 Balsamic sweets to overpower the gall; 
 
 True friends, like ivy and the wall it props, 
 
 Both stand together, or together fall. 
 
 1388. FRIENDS. Lack of 
 
 A rare thing is faith, and friendship is a marvel 
 among men, 
 
 Yet strange faces call they friends, and say they be¬ 
 lieve when they doubt. 
 
 Those hours are not lost that are spent in cementing 
 affection, 
 
 For a friend is above gold, precious as the stores of 
 the mind. 
 
 Be sparing of advice by words, but teach thy lesson 
 by example; 
 
 For the vanity of man may be wounded, and retort 
 unkindly upon thee. 
 
 There be some that never had a friend, because they 
 were gross and selfish : 
 
 Worldliness, and apathy, and pride leave not many 
 that are worthy, 
 
 But one who meriteth esteem need never lack a 
 friend ; 
 
 For as thistle-down flieth abroad, and casteth its 
 anchor in the soil, 
 
 So philanthropy yearneth for a heart where it may 
 take root and blossom. 
 
 For alas ! how few be friends, of whom charity hath 
 hoped well! 
 
 How few there be among men who forget themselves 
 for others ! 
 
 Each one seeketh his own, and .looketh on his 
 brethren as rivals, 
 
 Masking envy with friendship, to serve his secret 
 ends. 
 
 And the world, that corrupteth all good, hath 
 wronged that sacred name, 
 
 For it calleth any man friend who is not known for 
 an enemy; 
 
 And such be as the flies of summer, while plenty 
 sitteth at thy board. — Tupper ,. 
 
FRIENDS 
 
 272 
 
 FRIENDS 
 
 1389. FRIENDS. Lost 
 
 If thou hast lost a friend 
 By hard or hasty word, 
 
 Go call him to thy heart again ; 
 
 Let pride no more be heard. 
 
 Remind him of those happy days, 
 
 Too beautiful to last; 
 
 Ask, if a word should cancel years 
 Of truth and friendship past. 
 
 Oh ! if thou’st lost a friend 
 By hard or hasty word, 
 
 Go call him to thy heart again ; 
 
 Let pride no more be heard. 
 
 Oh ! tell him, from thy thought 
 The light of joy hath fled ; 
 
 That, in thy sad and silent breast, 
 
 Thy lonely heart seems dead: 
 
 That mount and vale, each path ye trod 
 By morn or evening dim, 
 
 Reproach you with their frowning gaze, 
 And ask your soul for him. 
 
 Then, if thou’st lost a friend 
 By hard or hasty word, 
 
 Go call him to thy heart again ; 
 
 Let pride no more be heard. 
 
 Charles Swain. 
 
 1390. FRIENDS. Mercenary 
 
 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 his poor self, 
 
 A dedicated beggar to the air, 
 
 With his disease of all-shunn’d poverty, 
 
 Walks, like contempt, alone.— Shakespeare. 
 
 1391. FRIENDS: must be honoured. 
 
 1 
 
 Small service is true service while it lasts ; 
 
 Of friends, however humble, scorn not one: 
 The daisy, by the shadow that it casts, 
 
 Protects the lingering dewdrop from the sun. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 1392. FRIENDS. Parting of 
 
 Friend after friend departs: 
 
 Who hath not lost a friend ? 
 
 There is no union here of hearts 
 That finds not here an end: 
 
 Were this frail world our only rest, 
 
 Living or dying, none were blest. 
 
 Beyond the flight of time, 
 
 Beyond this vale of death, 
 
 There surely is some blessed clime 
 Where life is not a breath, 
 
 Nor life’s affection transient fire, 
 
 Whose sparks fly upward to expire. 
 
 There is a world above, 
 
 Where parting is unknown ; 
 
 A whole eternity of love, 
 
 Form’d for the good alone: 
 
 And faith beholds the dying here 
 Translated to that happier sphere. 
 
 Thus star by star declines, 
 
 Till all are pass’d away, 
 
 As morning high and higher shines, 
 
 To pure and perfect day; 
 
 Nor sink those stars in empty night— 
 
 They hide themselves in heaven’s own light. 
 
 James Montgomery. 
 
 ’Tis sweet, as year by year we lose 
 Friends out of sight, in faith to muse 
 How grows in Paradise our store.— Keble. 
 
 Oh ! sweet bond of friendship, whate’er may betide 
 us, 
 
 Though on life’s stormy billows our barks may be 
 driven, 
 
 Though distance, or trial, or death may divide us, 
 Eternal re-union awaits us in heaven. 
 
 1 393 - FRIENDS. Prayer for 
 
 Father, who to us hast given 
 
 Love and friends as summer flowers, 
 
 Who hath brought the once sad-hearted 
 To the joys of many hours, 
 
 Hear us, Friend of love Divine, 
 
 Let the friends we love be Thine. 
 
 Lo ! they gather at the fireside— 
 
 Happy hearts, and shining eyes ; 
 
 And they walk along the valleys, 
 
 Cheering us with sympathies ; 
 
 But we ask Thee evermore, 
 
 Let them all Thy Name adore. 
 
 Look upon the merry children, 
 
 Look upon the happy young ; 
 
 And by their sweet, ringing voices, 
 
 Let Thy words of praise be sung, 
 
 That their happy lives may be 
 Given alone, O Lord, to Thee. 
 
 When shall fall the evening shadows, 
 
 And the sunset dyes are deep, 
 
FRIENDS 
 
 273 
 
 FRIENDSHIP 
 
 And Thy children, safely shelter’d. 
 
 Calm and happy, fall asleep, 
 
 And hands uncling that held us fast, 
 
 Let not that parting be the last. 
 
 Let us meet again in heaven, 
 
 Undivided families ; 
 
 Heart to heart in happy greeting, 
 
 And unbroken sympathies, 
 
 In Thy home and near to Thee, 
 
 Let us with our dear ones be. 
 
 Marianne Farningham. 
 
 1394. FRIENDS. Quality of 
 
 Essential honour must be in a friend, 
 
 Not such as. every breath fans to and fro ; 
 
 But born within, is its own judge and end, 
 
 And dares not sin, though sure that none should 
 know. 
 
 Where friendship speaks, honesty’s understood ; 
 
 For none can be a friend that is not good. 
 
 Catherine Phillips. 
 
 I 39 S < FRIENDS. Quarrels of 
 
 O world, thy slippery turns ! Friends now fast 
 sworn, 
 
 Whose double bosoms seem to wear one heart. 
 Whose hours, whose bed, whose meal and exercise 
 Are still together, who twin as ’twere in love 
 Unseparable, shall within this hour, 
 
 On a dissension of a doit, break out 
 To bitterest enmity.— Shakespeare. 
 
 1396. FRIENDS. Retain thy 
 
 Give thy thoughts no tongue, 
 
 Nor any unproportion’d 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 hook of steel; 
 
 But do not dull thy palm with entertainment 
 Of each new-hatch’d, unfledged comrade. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 * 397 - FRIENDS: should neither borrow nor 
 lend. 
 
 Neither a borrower nor a lender be ; 
 
 For loan oft loses both itself and friend, 
 
 And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 1398. FRIENDS. Vulgar 
 
 The man that hails you Tom or Jack, 
 
 And proves by thumping on your back 
 His sense of your great merit, 
 
 Is such a friend that one had need 
 Be very much his friend indeed 
 
 To pardon or to bear it.— Cowp&r. 
 
 1399. FRIENDSHIP. Boon of 
 
 Hail, friendship ! since the world began, 
 Heaven’s kindest, noblest boon for man. 
 
 All other joys with meteor fire 
 Quench’d in the mists of time expire; 
 
 But thou, unhurt by fortune’s blast, 
 
 Shin’st brightest, clearest, at the last! 
 
 The dreary heart, unwarm’d by thee, 
 
 Broods o’er a sullen destiny ; 
 
 Heaven’s fairest gift would fail to bless 
 That cold and wintry haunt of cheerless selfish 
 ness. — Miss Holford. 
 
 1400. FRIENDSHIP. Broken 
 
 Alas ! they had been friends in youth : 
 
 But whispering tongues can poison truth ; 
 
 And constancy lives in realms above ; 
 
 And life is thorny ; and youth is vain ; 
 
 And to be wroth with one we love 
 Doth work like madness in the brain. 
 
 And thus it chanced, as I divine, 
 
 With Roland and Sir Leoline ! 
 
 Each spoke words of high disdain 
 
 And insult to his heart’s best brother; 
 
 They parted,—ne’er to meet again ! 
 
 But never either found another 
 To free the hollow heart from paining. 
 
 They stood aloof, the scars remaining, 
 
 Like cliffs which had been rent asunder ! 
 
 A dreary sea now flows between, 
 
 But neither heat, nor frost, nor thunder 
 Shall wholly do away, I ween, 
 
 The marks of that which once hath been. 
 
 Coleridge. 
 
 1401. FRIENDSHIP. Course of 
 
 Two barks met on the deep mid-sea, 
 
 When calms had still’d the tide ; 
 
 A few bright days of summer glee 
 There found them side by side. 
 
 And voices of the fair and brave 
 Rose mingling thence in mirth ; 
 
 And sweetly floated o’er the wave 
 The melodies of earth. 
 
 Moonlight on that lone Indian main 
 Cloudless and lovely slept; 
 
 While dancing step and festive strain 
 
 Each deck in triumph swept. 
 
 18 
 
FRIENDSHIP 
 
 274 
 
 FRIENDSHIP 
 
 And hands were link’d, and answering eyes 
 With kindly meaning shone; 
 
 Oh, brief and passing sympathies, 
 
 Like leaves together blown ! 
 
 A little while such joy was cast 
 Over the deep’s repose, 
 
 Till the loud singing winds at last 
 Like trumpet music rose. 
 
 And proudly, freely on their way 
 The parting vessels bore ; 
 
 In calm or storm, by rock or bay, 
 
 To meet—Oh, never more ! 
 
 Never to blend in victory’s cheer, 
 
 To aid in hours of woe ; 
 
 And thus bright spirits mingle here, 
 
 Such ties are form’d below.— Mrs Hemans. 
 
 1402. FRIENDSHIP : denied to the great. 
 
 Friendship’s the privilege 
 Of private men; for wretched greatness knows 
 No blessing so substantial.— Tate. 
 
 1403. FRIENDSHIP. Different kinds of 
 
 Beware of sudden friendship,—’tis a flower 
 That thrives but in the sun ; its bud is fair, 
 
 And it may blossom in the summer hour, 
 
 But winter’s withering tempests will not bear. 
 
 ’Tis like the gilded insect through the air 
 
 That flits, on fragile wing, from sweet to sweet, 
 Yet stays on none, still fluttering onward, where 
 Fresh hues, fresh forms, and fragrance it may meet. 
 True friendship is a tree, whose lasting strength 
 Is slow of growth, but proves, whate’er befall, 
 Through life our hope and haven, and at length 
 Yields but to death—the power that conquers all. 
 
 1404. FRIENDSHIP. Duties of 
 
 A friend should bear a friend’s infirmities ; 
 
 But Brutus makes mine greater than they are. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 He who, malignant, tears an absent friend, 
 
 Or, when attack’d by others, don’t defend, 
 
 Who friendship’s secrets knows not to conceal— 
 That man is vile.— Francis. 
 
 1405. FRIENDSHIP. Effect of absence on 
 
 We need the clasp of hand in hand, 
 
 The light flash’d warm from neighbouring eyes ; 
 Or else as weary seasons pass— 
 
 Alas ! alas! 
 
 Our tenderest love grows wan and dies. 
 
 The fateful years like seas expand 
 
 ’Twixt souls that long have dwelt apart, 
 
 Till, broadening o’er our being’s verge, 
 
 The ruthless surge 
 
 Love’s memory sweeps from out the heart. 
 
 O Absence ! thou unreverenced Death ! 
 
 Thy dense, unconsecrated clay 
 Inurns affection past regret; 
 
 No hint is set 
 
 Thereon of Resurrection Day.— Hayne. 
 
 1406. FRIENDSHIP. False 
 
 You’ll find the friendship of the world a show ! 
 Mere outward show ! ’tis like the harlot’s tears, 
 The statesman’s promise, or false patriot’s zeal, 
 Full of fair seeming, but delusion all.— Savage. 
 
 I have too deeply read mankind 
 To be amused with friendship; ’tis a name 
 Invented merely to betray credulity : 
 
 ’Tis intercourse of interest—not of souls. 
 
 Havard. 
 
 The friendships of the world are oft 
 Confederacies in vice, or leagues of pleasure. 
 
 Addison. 
 
 And what is friendship but a name, 
 
 A charm that lulls to sleep ! 
 
 A shade that follows wealth or fame, 
 
 And leaves the wretch to weep ! 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 1407. FRIENDSHIP. Growth of 
 
 Friendship is no plant of hasty growth; 
 Though planted in esteem’s deep fixed soil, 
 
 The gradual culture of kind intercourse 
 Must bring it to perfection.— Joanna Baillie. 
 
 1408. FRIENDSHIP. Ill-founded 
 
 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 nib in your fortunes, fall away 
 Like water from ye, never found again, 
 
 But where they mean to sink ye.— Shakespeare. 
 
 That friendship’s raised on sand, 
 
 Which every sudden gust of discontent, 
 
 Or flowing of our passions, can change 
 As if it ne’er had been.— Massinger. 
 
FRIENDSHIP 
 
 275 
 
 FRIENDSHIP 
 
 1409. FRIENDSHIP: implies sacrifice. 
 
 PIe who will not give 
 
 Some portion of his ease, his blood, his wealth, 
 For others’ good, is a poor frozen churl. 
 
 Joanna Bail lie. 
 
 1410. FRIENDSHIP. Intimate 
 
 Is all the counsel that we two have shared, 
 
 The sisters’ vows, the hours that we have spent, 
 When we have chid the hasty-footed time 
 For parting us,—Oh, and is all forgot? 
 
 All school-days’ friendship, childhood innocence ? 
 We, Hermia, like two artificial gods, 
 
 Have with our needles created both one flower, 
 
 Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, 
 
 Both warbling of one song, both in one key ; 
 
 As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds, 
 
 Had been incorporate. So we grew together 
 Like a double cherry, seeming parted ; 
 
 But yet a union in partition, 
 
 Two lovely berries moulded on one stem : 
 
 So, with two seeming bodies, but one heart; 
 
 Two of the first, like coats in heraldry, 
 
 Due but to one, and crowned with one crest. 
 
 And will you rend our ancient love asunder ? 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 1411. FRIENDSHIP: its joys- 
 
 I COUNT myself in nothing else so happy, 
 
 As in a soul remembering my good friends 
 And, as my fortune ripens with my love, 
 
 It shall be still thy true love’s recompense. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Who knows the joys of friendship? 
 
 The trust, security, and mutual tenderness, 
 
 The double joys, where each is glad for both? 
 Friendship our only wealth, our last retreat and 
 strength, 
 
 Secure against ill fortune and the world.— Rowe. 
 
 Angels from friendship gather half their joy. 
 
 Young. 
 
 To bless mankind with tides of flowing wealth, 
 
 With power to grace them, or to crown with health, 
 Our little lot denies ; but Heaven decrees 
 To all, the gift of ministering to ease : 
 
 1 The gentle offices of patient love, 
 
 Beyond all flattery, and all praise above; 
 
 The mild forbearance of another’s fault, 
 
 The taunting word suppress’d as soon as thought; 
 
 On these Heaven bade the sweets of life depend, 
 
 And crush’d ill fortune when she gave a friend. 
 
 A solitary blessing few can find ; 
 
 | Our joys with those we love are intertwined ; 
 
 And he whose wakeful tenderness removes 
 Th’ obstructing thorn which wounds the breast he 
 loves, 
 
 Smoothes not another’s rugged path alone, 
 
 But scatters roses to adorn his own.— Hannah More. 
 
 1412. FRIENDSHIP. Likeness essential to 
 
 In companions 
 
 That do converse and waste the time together, 
 Whose souls do bear an equal yoke of love, 
 
 There needs must be a like proportion 
 Of lineaments, of manners, and of spirit. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 1413- FRIENDSHIP. Nature of 
 
 Friendship’s an abstract of love’s noble flame, 
 
 ’Tis love refined, and purged from all its dross; 
 The next to angels’ love, if not the same ; 
 
 As strong as passion is, though not so gross; 
 
 It antedates a glad eternity, 
 
 And is a heaven in epitome.— Catherine Phillips. 
 
 1414. FRIENDSHIP : of great souls. 
 
 Friendship is still accompanied with virtue, 
 
 And always lodged in great and generous minds. 
 
 Trap. 
 
 Great souls by instinct to each other turn, 
 Demand alliance, and in friendship bum. 
 
 Addison. 
 
 1415. FRIENDSHIP. Perfect 
 
 I had a friend that loved me : 
 
 I was his soul : he lived not but in me: 
 
 We were so close within each other’s breast, 
 
 The rivets were not found that join’d us first. 
 
 That does not reach us yet : we were so mix’d, 
 
 As meeting streams—both to ourselves were lost. 
 
 We were one mass, we could not give or take, 
 
 But from the same : for he was I ; I, he : 
 
 Return my better half, and give me all myself, 
 
 For thou art all ! 
 
 If I have any joy when thou art absent, 
 
 I grudge it to myself: methinks I rob 
 Thee of thy part-— Dryden. 
 
 1416. FRIENDSHIP. Philosophy of 
 
 As frost to the bud, and blight to the blossom, even 
 such is self-interest to friendship : 
 
 For confidence cannot dwell where selfishness is 
 porter at the gate. 
 
 If thou see thy friend to be selfish, thou canst not be 
 sure of his honesty ; 
 
 And in seeking thine own weal, thou hast wronged 
 the reliance of thy friend. 
 
FRIENDSHIP 
 
 276 
 
 FRIENDSHIP 
 
 Flattery hideth her varnished face when friendship 
 sitteth at his board ; 
 
 And the door is shut upon suspicion, but candour is 
 bid glad welcome ; 
 
 For friendship abhorreth doubt, its life is in mutual 
 trust, 
 
 And perisheth, when artful praise proveth it is sought 
 for a purpose. 
 
 A man may be good to thee at times, and render 
 thee mighty service, 
 
 Whom yet thy secret soul could not desire as a 
 friend ; 
 
 For the sum of life is in trifles, and though, in the 
 weightier masses, 
 
 A man refuse thee not his purse, nay, his all in thine 
 utmost need, 
 
 Yet if thou canst not feel that his character agreeth 
 with thine own, 
 
 Thou never wilt call him friend, though thou render 
 him a heart full of gratitude. 
 
 A coarse man grindeth harshly the finer feelings of 
 his brother ; 
 
 A common mind will soon depart from the dull com¬ 
 panionship of wisdom. 
 
 A weak soul dareth not to follow in the track of 
 vigour and decision ; 
 
 And the worldly regardeth with scorn the seeming 
 foolishness of faith. 
 
 A mountain is made up of atoms, and friendship of 
 little matters. 
 
 And if the atoms hold not together, the mountain is 
 crumbled into dust.— Tapper. 
 
 1417. FRIENDSHIP. Power of 
 
 What might be done if men were wise— 
 
 What glorious deeds, my suffering brother, 
 Would they unite 
 In love and right, 
 
 And cease their scorn of one another ? 
 
 Oppression’s heart might be imbued 
 
 With kindling drops of loving-kindness ; 
 
 And knowledge pour, 
 
 From shore to shore, 
 
 Light on the eyes of mental blindness. 
 
 All slavery, warfare, lies, and wrongs, 
 
 All vice and crime, might die together ; 
 
 And wine and com, 
 
 To each man born, 
 
 Be free as warmth in summer weather. 
 
 The meanest wretch that ever trod, 
 
 The deepest sunk in guilt and sorrow, 
 
 Might stand erect # 
 
 In self-respect, 
 
 And share the teeming world to-morrow. 
 
 What might be done ? This might be done, 
 
 And more than this—my suffering brother, 
 
 More than the tongue 
 E’er said or sung, 
 
 If men were wise and loved each other. 
 
 Mackay. 
 
 1418. FRIENDSHIP. Price of 
 
 Hope not to find 
 A friend, but what has found a friend in thee ; 
 
 All like the purchase, few the price will pay ; 
 
 And this makes friends such miracles below. 
 
 Young. 
 
 1419. FRIENDSHIP : should neither be formed 
 
 nor broken rashly. 
 
 A golden treasure is the tried friend ; 
 
 But who may gold from counterfeits defend ? 
 
 Trust not too soon, nor yet too soon mistrust : 
 
 With th’ one thyself, with th’ other thy friend thou 
 hurt’st, 
 
 Who twines betwixt, and steers the golden mean, 
 Nor rashly loveth, nor mistrusts in vain. 
 
 Mirror for Magisti'ates. 
 
 1420. FRIENDSHIP: superior to love. 
 
 In folly’s heart love’s shortlived blaze may glow, 
 Wisdom alone can purer friendship know. 
 
 Love is a sudden blaze, which soon decays; 
 Friendship is like the sun’s eternal rays ; 
 
 Not daily benefits exhaust the flame ; 
 
 It still is giving, and still burns the same.— Gay. 
 
 1421. FRIENDSHIP. Tested 
 
 Sheik Schubli, taken sick, was borne one day 
 Unto the hospital. A host the way 
 Behind him throng’d. ‘ Who are you ? ’ Schubli 
 cried. 
 
 ‘ We are your friends,’ the multitude replied. 
 
 Sheik Schubli threw a stone at them ; they fled. 
 
 ‘ Come back, ye false pretenders! ’ then he said ; 
 
 ‘ A friend is one who, rank’d among his foes 
 By him he loves, and stoned, and beat with blows, 
 Will still remain as friendly as before, 
 
 And to his friendship only add the more.’ 
 
 Oriental , tr. by Alger. 
 
 • 1422. FRIENDSHIP : tested by adversity. 
 
 What the declined is, 
 
 He shall as soon read in the eyes of others 
 As feel in his own fall; for men, like butterflies, 
 Show not their mealy wings but to the summer. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
I 
 
 FRIENDSHIP 
 
 O summer friendship, 
 
 Whose flattering leaves, that shadow’d us in 
 Our prosperity, with the least gust drop off 
 In th’ autumn of adversity !— Massinger. 
 
 The friends who in our sunshine live, 
 
 When winter comes are flown ; 
 
 And he who has but tears to give 
 
 Must weep those tears alone.— Moore. 
 
 1423. FRIENDSHIP. Trust in 
 
 Trust is the strongest bond upon the soul; 
 
 That sacred tie has virtue oft begot; 
 
 It binds where ’tis, and makes it where ’twas not. 
 
 Earl of Orreiy. 
 
 1424. FRIENDSHIP. Uses of 
 
 Such is the use and noble end of friendship, 
 
 To bear a part in every storm of fate, 
 
 And, by dividing, make the lighter weight. 
 
 Higgons. 
 
 Well-chosen friendship, the most noble 
 Of virtues, all our joys makes double, 
 
 And into halves divides our trouble. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 Heaven gives us friends to bless the present scene; 
 Resumes them, to prepare us for the next.— Young. 
 
 Friendship has a power 
 To soothe affliction in her darkest hour. 
 
 H. Kirke White. 
 
 1425. FRUGALITY. Rule of 
 
 By no means run in debt : take thine own measure. 
 Who cannot live on twenty pound a year, 
 
 Cannot on forty : he’s a man of pleasure, 
 
 A kind of thing that’s for itself too dear. 
 
 The curious unthrift makes his clothes too wide, 
 And spares himself, but would his tailor chide. 
 
 Spend not on hopes. They that by pleading clothes 
 Do fortunes seek, when worth and service fail, 
 
 Would have their tale believed for their oaths, 
 
 And are like empty vessels under sail. 
 
 Old courtiers know this ; therefore set out so 
 As all the day thou mayst hold out to go. 
 
 n clothes, cheap handsomeness doth bear the bell. 
 Wisdom’s a trimmer thing than shop e’er gave, 
 nay not, then, this with that lace will do well; 
 
 3 ut, this with my discretion will be brave. 
 
 Much curiousness is a perpetual wooing, 
 
 Nothing with labour, folly long a doing. 
 
 George Herbert. 
 
 2 77 FUNERAL 
 
 1426. FRUITFULNESS. Moral 
 
 By nature peccable and frail are we, 
 
 Easily beguiled ; to vice, to error prone ; 
 
 But apt for virtue too. Humanity 
 Is not a field where tares and thorns alone 
 Are left to spring ; good seed hath there been sown 
 W ith no unsparing hand. Sometimes the shoot 
 Is choked with weeds, or withers on a stone ; 
 
 But in a kindly soil it strikes its root, 
 
 And flourisheth, and bringeth forth abundant fruit. 
 
 Southey. 
 
 I 4 2 7 - FRUITFULNESS. Prayer for 
 
 Lord, I have lain 
 Barren too long, and fain 
 I would redeem the time, that I may be 
 Fruitful to Thee ; 
 
 Fruitful in knowledge, faith, obedience, 
 
 Ere I go hence : 
 
 That when I come 
 
 At harvest to be reaped, and brought home, 
 
 Thine angels may 
 
 My soul in Thy celestial garner lay, 
 
 Where perfect joy and bliss 
 Eternal is. 
 
 If to entreat 
 A crop of purest wheat 
 A blessing too transcendent should appear 
 For me to hear, 
 
 Lord, make me what Thou wilt, so Thou wilt take 
 What Thou dost make, 
 
 And not disdain 
 
 To house me, though among Thy coarsest grain : 
 
 So I may be 
 
 Laid with the gleanings gathered by Thee, 
 
 W hen the full sheaves are spent, 
 
 I am content.— Quarles. 
 
 1428. FUNERAL. Hymn for a 
 
 Come forth ! come on, with solemn song ! 
 
 The road is short, the rest is long ! 
 
 The Lord brought here, He calls away ! 
 
 Make no delay ; 
 
 This home was for a passing day. 
 
 Here in an inn a stranger dwelt; 
 
 Here joy and grief by turns he felt ; 
 
 Poor dwelling, now we close thy door! 
 
 The task is o’er, 
 
 The sojourner returns no more. 
 
 Now of a lasting home possess’d, 
 
 He goes to seek a deeper rest; 
 
FUNERALS 
 
 278 
 
 FUTURE 
 
 Good-night! the day was suit 17 here, 
 
 In toil and fear ; 
 
 Good-night ! the night is cool and clear. 
 
 Chime on, ye bells ! Again begin, 
 
 And ring the Sabbath morning in ; 
 
 The labourer’s week-day work is done, 
 
 The rest begun, 
 
 Which Christ has for His people won!— Sack. 
 
 1429. FUNERALS. Costly 
 
 Why is the hearse with scutcheons blazon’d round, 
 And with the nodding plumes of ostrich crown’d ? 
 
 No : the dead know it not, nor profit gain ; 
 
 It only serves to prove the living vain.— Gay. 
 
 1430. FUTURE. Anticipations of the 
 
 There is a history in all men’s lives, 
 
 Fig’ring the nature of the times deceased, 
 
 The which observed, a man may prophesy, 
 
 With a near aim, of the main chance of things 
 As yet not'come to life ; which in their seeds 
 And weak beginnings lie entreasured. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 1431. FUTURE. Anxiety concerning the 
 
 What avails it that indulgent Heaven 
 From mortal eyes has wrapt the woes to come, 
 
 If we, ingenious to torment ourselves, 
 
 Grow pale at hideous fictions of our own ? 
 
 Enjoy the present; nor with needless cares 
 Of what may spring from blind misfortune’s womb, 
 Appal the shortest hour that life bestows. 
 
 Serene, and master of yourself, prepare 
 
 For what may come ; and leave the rest to Heaven. 
 
 A rmstrong. 
 
 1432. FUTURE. Blindness to the 
 
 Heaven from all creatures hides the book of fate, 
 All but the page prescribed, their present state ; 
 From brutes what men, from men what spirits know: 
 Or who could suffer being here below ? 
 
 The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed to-day, 
 
 Had he thy reason, would he skip and play ? 
 
 Pleased to the last, he crops the flowery food, 
 
 And licks the hand just raised to shed his blood. 
 
 O blindness to the future ! kindly given, 
 
 That each may fill the circle mark’d by Heaven ; 
 Who sees with equal eye, as God of all, 
 
 A hero perish, or a sparrow fall ; 
 
 Atoms or systems into ruin hurl’d, 
 
 And now a bubble burst, and now a world. 
 
 Hope humbly then ; with trembling pinions soar ; 
 Wait the great teacher Death, and God adore. 
 
 What future bliss, He gives not thee to know, 
 
 But gives that hope to be thy blessing now. 
 
 Hope springs eternal in the human breast: 
 
 Man never is, but always to be blest. 
 
 The soul, uneasy and confined from home, 
 
 Rests and expatiates in a life to come.— Pope. 
 
 1433. FUTURE. Hope for the 
 
 Foil’d by our fellow-men, depress’d, outworn, 
 
 We leave the brutal world to take its way, 
 
 And , patience', in another life, we say, 
 
 The world shall be thrust down, and we upborne ! 
 
 And will not, then, the immortal armies scorn 
 
 The world’s poor, routed leavings ; or will they, ' 
 Who fail’d under the heat of this life’s day, 
 
 Support the fervours of the heavenly morn ? 
 
 No, no ! the energy of life may be 
 
 Kept on after the grave, but not begun ; 
 
 And he who flagg’d not in the earthly strife, 
 
 From strength to strength advancing—only he, 
 
 His soul well-knit, and all his battles won, 
 
 Mounts, and that hardly, to eternal life. 
 
 Matthew Arnold. 
 
 1434. FUTURE. Hue of the 
 
 A FEW days may—a few years must — 
 
 Repose us in the silent dust: 
 
 Then is it wise to damp our bliss ? 
 
 Yes, all such reasonings are amiss ! 
 
 The voice of nature loudly cries, 
 
 And many a message from the skies, 
 
 That something in us never dies ; 
 
 That on this frail, uncertain state 
 Hang matters of eternal weight ; 
 
 That future life, in worlds unknown, 
 
 Must take its hue from this alone, 
 
 Whether as heavenly glory bright, 
 
 Or dark as misery’s woeful night.— Burns. 
 
 1435. FUTURE. Ignorance of the 
 
 I feel the mighty current sweep me on, 
 
 Yet know not whither. Man foretells afar 
 The courses of the stars ; the very hour 
 He knows when they shall darken or grow bright; 
 Yet doth the eclipse of sorrow and of death 
 Come unforewarn’d. Who next, of those I love, 
 Shall pass from life, or sadder yet, shall fall 
 From virtue? Strife with foes, or bitter stiife 
 With friends, or shame and general scorn of men— 
 Which who can bear?—or the fierce rack of pain— ' 
 Lie they within my path? Or shall the yeais 
 Push me, with soft and inoffensive pace, 
 
 Into the stilly twilight of my age ? 
 
 Or do the portals of another life 
 
 Even now, while I am glorying in my strength, 
 
 Impend around me ? Oh ! beyond that bourne, 
 
FUTURE 
 
 279 
 
 FUTURE 
 
 In the vast cycle of being which begins 
 At that dread threshold, with what fairer forms 
 Shall the great law of change and progress clothe 
 Its workings ? Gently—so have good men taught— 
 Gently, and without grief, the old shall glide 
 Into the new ; the eternal flow of things, 
 
 Like a bright river of the fields of heaven, 
 
 Shall journey onward in perpetual peace.— Bryant. 
 
 14.36. FUTURE. Obscurity of the 
 
 Eternity, thou awful gulf of time. 
 
 This wide creation on thy surface floats. 
 
 Of life--of death—what is—or what shall be, 
 
 I nothing know. The world is all a dream, 
 
 The consciousness of something that exists, 
 
 Yet is not what it seems. Then what am I ? 
 
 Death must unfold the mystery!— Dowe. 
 
 Search starry mysteries overhead, 
 
 \\ here wonders gleam ; yet bear in mind 
 
 That Earth’s our planet, firm to tread, 
 
 Nor in the star-dance left behind. 
 
 For nothing is withheld, be sure, 
 
 Our being needed to have shown ; 
 
 The far was meant to be obscure, 
 
 The near was placed so to be known. 
 
 Cast we no astrologic scheme 
 To map the course we must pursue ; 
 
 But use the lights whene’er they beam, 
 
 And every trusty landmark too. 
 
 The Future let us not permit 
 To choke us in its shadow’s clasp ; 
 
 It cannot touch us, nor we it; 
 
 The present moment’s in our grasp. 
 
 Allingham. 
 
 * 437 • FUTURE. Present and 
 
 IWhen these brief trial-days are spent, there dawns a 
 glad eternity; 
 
 There, lost in measureless content, our tears and 
 sorrows cease to be ; 
 
 Here virtue toils with earnest care ; 
 
 Her glorious crown awaits her there ! 
 
 Here I must seek ; there I shall find; for there shall 
 virtue all unfold 
 
 Before my holier, purer mind, her worth so great, so 
 manifold ; 
 
 The God of Love, whom I adore, 
 
 I there shall worship more and more. 
 
 tm 
 
 There, in that light, shall I discern what here on 
 earth I dimly saw ; 
 
 Those deep and wondrous counsels learn, whose 
 mystery fill’d me here with awe ; 
 
 There trace, with gratitude intense, 
 
 The hidden links of Providence. 
 
 Perchance—ah, would that this might be !—will 
 some blest soul in that abode 
 Cry ‘ Hail ! for thou hast rescued me, and won my 
 heart to heaven and God ! ’ 
 
 O God ! what exquisite delight 
 
 To save a soul from sin and night !— Gellert. 
 
 H 3 & FUTURE. Promises of the 
 
 And there lives not a victim of Pride and Power 
 But hopes in the Future to win release ; 
 
 But dreams of some bright and golden hour, 
 
 When the reign of Oppression and Wrong shall 
 cease ; 
 
 And T ruth and Love, with their beauty and might, 
 Shall banish the sombre-hued shadows of night. 
 
 Not a toiler who plods ’neath a burden of care, 
 
 But dreams of relief and liberty there; 
 
 Not a weary seeker for truth and light, 
 
 But waits for a morning tranquil and bright, 
 
 \\ hen the shadows of Doubt and Darkness shall fly, 
 And visions of beauty shall gladden his eye. 
 
 Oh, who could endure the burdens of life ; 
 
 The heart-aches of Falsehood, of Envy, and Strife ; 
 The gloom-laden years of misfortune and grief; 
 
 The baffled schemes that are void of relief, 
 
 Who heard not the joy-notes of Hope, as she sings 
 Of the benisons Time on his pathway flings? 
 
 There is bread for the hungry, and wealth for the 
 poor, 
 
 And fountains of pleasure whose waters are pure ; 
 Rest for the weary, and sight for the blind, 
 
 And freedom from all that o’ershadows the mind. 
 There is solace for Sorrow’s woe-laden plaint, 
 
 Truth for the seeker, and strength for the faint. 
 
 Dezvart. 
 
 1439* FUTURE. Shaping the 
 
 W r E shape ourselves the joy or fear 
 Of which the coming life is made, 
 
 And fill our future’s atmosphere 
 With sunshine or with shade. 
 
 The tissue of the life to be 
 
 We weave with colours all our own, 
 
 And in the field of destiny 
 We reap as we have sown. 
 
 Still shall the soul around it call 
 The shadows which it gather’d here, 
 
 And, painted on the eternal wall, 
 
 The past shall reappear. 
 
FUTURE 
 
 280 
 
 FUTURE 
 
 1441. FUTURE. The: its revelations, 
 
 Think ye the notes of holy song 
 On Milton’s tuneful ear have died ? 
 
 Think ye that Raphael’s angel throng 
 Has vanish’d from his side ? 
 
 Oh, no ! we live our life again; 
 
 Or warmly touch’d, or coldly dim, 
 
 The pictures of the past remain— 
 
 Man’s works shall follow him !— Whittier. 
 
 1440. FUTURE. The: hidden from us. 
 
 What though before me it is dark, 
 
 Too dark for me to see ? 
 
 I ask but light for one step more ; 
 
 ’Tis quite enough for me. 
 
 Each little, humble step I take, 
 
 The gloom clears from the next; 
 
 So, though ’tis very dark beyond, 
 
 I never am perplex’d. 
 
 And if sometimes the mist hangs close, 
 
 So close I fear to stray, 
 
 Patient I wait a little while, 
 
 And soon it clears away. 
 
 I would not see my further path, 
 
 For mercy veils it so ; 
 
 My present steps might harder be 
 Did I the future know. 
 
 It may be that my path is rough, 
 
 Thorny, and hard, and steep ; 
 
 And knowing this, my strength might fail 
 Through fear and terror deep. 
 
 It may be that it winds along 
 A smooth and flowery way ; 
 
 But seeing this I might despise 
 The journey of to-day. 
 
 Perhaps my path is very short, 
 
 My journey nearly done, 
 
 And I might tremble at the thought 
 Of ending it so soon. 
 
 Or, if I saw a weary length 
 Of road that I must wend, 
 
 Fainting, I’d think, ‘ My feeble powers 
 Will fail me ere the end.’ 
 
 And so I do not wish to see 
 My journey or its length ; 
 
 Assured that, through my Father’s love, 
 Each step will bring its strength. 
 
 Thus step by step I onward go, 
 
 Not looking far before ; 
 
 Trusting that I shall always have 
 Light for just * one step more.’ 
 
 Thou knowest not; for here we see but darkly 
 The outlines of His grace ; 
 
 The rest is learnt in heaven’s eternal glory, 
 
 And face to face. 
 
 Thou knowest not; thou canst not trace His foot¬ 
 steps— 
 
 His way is on the sea ; 
 
 And but the dashing of the trodden waters 
 Is heard of thee. 
 
 Thou knowest not ; and so ofttimes thou doubtest 
 That gracious Hand above, 
 
 Which guideth every step of thy life journey 
 In perfect love. 
 
 Thou knowest not; yet art in thy repining 
 Proud and rebellious still; 
 
 Thou wilt not wait to let the great ‘ hereafter ’ 
 Explain His will. 
 
 For thou shalt know, when all the clouds and 
 shadows 
 
 That dim thy feeble sight 
 Are chased away in that refulgent splendour 
 Where God is light,— 
 
 Then thou shalt know ; that passionless ‘ hereafter ’ 
 Shall solve all mystery. 
 
 Dream not that life could hold the tide of wonder 
 In store for thee. 
 
 Life were too short ; yet there are many lessons 
 Which earth is meant to teach ; 
 
 Why miss them, striving for that hidden knowledge 
 Beyond thy reach ? 
 
 For time thy Father cares ; and since He careth, 
 Enough, enough thou hast; 
 
 Oh joy to know that for His child He keepeth 
 The best till last! 
 
 1442. FUTURE. The : mercifully hidden from 
 us. 
 
 Oh, if this were seen, 
 
 The happiest youth—viewing his progress throug 
 What perils past, what crosses to ensue— 
 
 Would shut the book, and sit him down and die. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Too curious man ! why dost thou seek to know 
 Events, which, good or ill, foreknown, are woe ? 
 
 Th’ all-seeing Power that made thee mortal, gave 
 Thee everything a mortal state should have. 
 Foreknowledge only is enjoy’d by Heaven ; 
 
 And, for his peace of mind, to man forbidden : 
 
FUTURE 
 
 281 
 
 FUTURE 
 
 Wretched were life if he foreknew his doom ; 
 
 Even joys foreseen give pleasing hope no room, 
 
 And griefs assured are felt before they come. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 1443. FUTURE. The: what it has in store for 
 
 us. 
 
 What then ? Why, then another pilgrim song ; 
 
 And then a hush to rest, divinely granted ; 
 
 And then a thirsty stage (ah me, so long !) 
 
 And then a brook, just where it most is wanted. 
 
 What then ? The pitching of the evening tent; 
 
 And then, perchance, a pillow rough and thorny; 
 And then some sweet and tender message, sent 
 To cheer the faint one for to-morrow’s journey. 
 
 What then ? The wailing of the midnight wind, 
 
 A feverish sleep, a heart oppress’d and aching ; 
 And then a little water-cruse to find 
 
 Close by my pillow, ready for my waking. 
 
 What then ? I am not careful to inquire ; 
 
 I know there will be tears, and fears, and sorrow ; 
 And then, a loving Saviour drawing nigher, 
 
 And saying, * I will answer for the morrow.’ 
 
 What then ? For all my sins His pardoning grace ; 
 
 For all my wants and woes, His lovingkindness ; 
 For darkest shades, the shining of God’s face, 
 
 And Christ’s own hand to lead me in my blindness. 
 
 What then ? A shadowy valley, lone and dim ; 
 
 And then, a deep and darkly rolling river ; 
 
 And then a flood of light, a seraph’s hymn, 
 
 And God’s own smile for ever and for ever ! 
 
 Jane Crewdson. 
 
 1444. FUTURE. The Christian’s 
 
 After the Christian’s tears, 
 
 After his fights and fears, 
 
 After his weary cross, 
 
 All things below but loss— 
 
 What then ? 
 
 Oh ! then—a holy calm, 
 
 Resting on Jesus’ arm, 
 
 Oh ! then—a deeper love 
 For the holy home above. 
 
 After this holy calm, 
 
 This rest on Jesus’ arm, 
 
 After this deepen’d love 
 For the pure home above— 
 
 What then ? 
 
 Oh ! then—work for Him, 
 
 Perishing souls to win, 
 
 Then Jesus’ presence near, 
 
 Death’s darkest hour will cheer. 
 
 And when the work is done, 
 
 When the last soul is won, 
 
 When Jesus’ love and powei 
 Have cheer’d the dying hour— 
 
 What then ? 
 
 Oh ! then—the crown is given ! 
 
 Oh ! then—the rest in heaven ! 
 
 Endless life, in endless day, 
 
 Sin and sorrow pass’d away. 
 
 1445. FUTURE. The Worldling’s 
 
 After the joys of earth, 
 
 After its songs of mirth, 
 
 After its hours of light, 
 
 After its dreams so bright— 
 
 What then ? 
 
 Only an empty name, 
 
 Only a weary frame, 
 
 Only a conscious smart, 
 
 Only an aching heart. 
 
 After this empty name, 
 
 After this weary frame, 
 
 After this conscious smart, 
 
 After this aching heart— 
 
 What then ? 
 
 After this sad farewell 
 To a world loved too well, 
 
 After this silent bed 
 With the forgotten dead— 
 
 What then? 
 
 Oh ! then—the judgment throne ! 
 
 Oh ! then—the last hope—gone ! 
 
 Then, all the woes that dwell 
 In an eternal hell. 
 
 1446. FUTURE. Uncertainty of the 
 
 Darkly we move, we press upon the brink 
 Haply of viewless worlds, and know it not: 
 
 Yes, it may be, that nearer than we think 
 
 Are those whom death has parted from our lot ! 
 
 Mrs ffemans. 
 
 1447. FUTURE. Veil over the 
 
 It was good, it was kind, in the Wise One above, 
 
 To fling Destiny’s veil o’er the face of our years, 
 That we dread not the blow that shall strike at our 
 love, 
 
 And expect not the beams that shall dry up our 
 tears. 
 
 Did we know that the voices now gentle and bland 
 Will forego the fond word and the whispering tone; 
 
FUTURE STATE 
 
 282 
 
 GENIUS 
 
 Did we know that the eager and warm-pressing hand 
 Will be joyfully forward in ‘ casting the stone ; ’ 
 
 Did we know the affection engrossing our breast 
 Will end, as it oft does, in madness and pain ; 
 That the passionate soul will but hazard its rest, 
 
 And be wreck’d on the shore it is panting to gain; 
 
 Oh ! did we but know of the shadows so nigh, 
 
 The world would indeed be a prison of gloom ; 
 
 All light would be quench’d in youth’s eloquent eye, 
 And the prayer-lisping infant would ask for the 
 tomb.— Eliza Cook. 
 
 1448. FUTURE STATE. Certainty of a 
 
 Our reason prompts us to a future state, 
 
 The last appeal from fortune and from fate, 
 
 When God’s all-righteous ways will be declared. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 Sure there is none but fears a future state ; 
 
 And when the most obdurate swear they do not, 
 Their trembling hearts belie their boastful tongues. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 Shall I be left forgotten in the dust, 
 
 When fate, relenting, lets the flower revive ? 
 
 Shall nature’s voice, to man alone unjust. 
 
 Bid him, though doom’d to perish, hope to live ? 
 
 Is it for this fair virtue oft must strive 
 With disappointment, penury, and pain ? 
 
 No: heaven’s immortal springs shall yet arrive, 
 And man’s majestic beauty bloom again, 
 
 Bright through th’ eternal year of love’s triumphant 
 reign. — Beattie. 
 
 Sceptic, whoe’er thou art, tell, if thou knowest, 
 
 Why every nation, every clime, though all 
 In laws, in rites, in manners disagree, 
 
 With one consent expect another world 
 
 Where wickedness shall weep ? Why in each breast 
 
 Is placed a friendly monitor, that prompts, 
 
 Informs, directs, encourages, forbids ? 
 
 Tell, why on unknown evil grief attends, 
 
 Or joy on secret good ? Why Conscience acts 
 With tenfold force, when sickness, age, or pain 
 Stands tottering on the precipice of death ? 
 
 Or why such horror gnaws the guilty soul 
 Of dying sinners, while the good man sleeps 
 Peaceful and calm, and with a smile expires? 
 
 Glynn. 
 
 1449. GAIN. Criminal 
 
 Your hoards are great, your walls are strong, 
 But God is just ; 
 
 The gilded chambers built by wrong 
 Invite the rust. 
 
 What! know ye not the gain of crime 
 Is dust and dross ; 
 
 It ventures on the waves of time, 
 
 Foredoom’d to loss.— Whittier. 
 
 1450. GAMBLING. Objects of 
 
 Some play for gain ; to pass time others play 
 For nothing ; both do play the fool, I say : 
 Nor time or coin I’ll lose, or idly spend ; 
 
 Who gets by play proves loser in the end. 
 
 Heath. 
 
 1451. GARDEN. Formal 
 
 His gardens next your admiration call ; 
 
 On every side you look, behold the wall! 
 
 No pleasing intricacies intervene, 
 
 No artful wildness to perplex the scene ; 
 
 Grove nods at grove, each alley has a brother, 
 And half the platform just reflects the other ; 
 
 The suffering eye inverted nature sees, 
 
 Trees cut to statues, statues thick as trees; 
 
 With here a fountain never to be play’d, 
 
 And there a summer-house that knows no shade. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 1452. GAYETY. Innocent 
 
 Whom call we gay? That honour has been long 
 The boast of mere pretenders to the name. 
 
 The innocent are gay—the lark is gay, 
 
 That dries his feathers, saturate with dew, 
 
 Beneath the rosy cloud, while yet the beams 
 Of day-spring overshot his humble nest. 
 
 The peasant, too, a witness of his song, 
 
 Himself a songster, is as gay as he. 
 
 But save me from the gayety of those 
 Whose headaches nail them to a noonday bed ; 
 And save me too from theirs whose haggard eyes 
 Flash desperation, and betray their pangs 
 For property stripp’d off by cruel chance ; 
 
 From gayety that fills the bones with pain, 
 
 The mouth with blasphemy, the heart with woe. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 1453. GENIUS : a gift of nature. 
 
 Time, place, and action may with pains be wrought, 
 But genius must be born, and never can be taught. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 A happy genius is the gift of nature.— Dryden. 
 
 1454. GENIUS. Hope and 
 
 Bright as the pillar rose at Heaven’s command, 
 When Israel march’d along the desert land, 
 
 Blazed through the night on lonely wilds afar, 
 
 And told the path—a never-setting star: 
 
GENIUS 
 
 283 
 
 GENTLEMAN 
 
 So, heavenly Genius, in thy course divine, 
 
 Hope is the star, her light is ever thine. 
 
 Campbell. 
 
 1455. GENIUS. Impediments of 
 
 Genius ! thou gift of Heaven ! thou light divine ! 
 Amid what dangers art thou doom’d to shine! 
 
 Oft will the body’s weakness check thy force, 
 
 Oft damp thy vigour, and impede thy course ; 
 
 And trembling nerves compel thee to restrain 
 Thy noble efforts, to contend with pain ; 
 
 Or want (sad guest !) will in thy presence come, 
 And breathe around her melancholy gloom ; 
 
 To life’s low cares will thy proud thought confine, 
 And make her sufferings—her impatience—thine. 
 
 Crabbe. 
 
 O born of heaven, thou child of magic song ! 
 
 What pangs, what cutting hardships wait on thee, 
 When thou art doom’d to cramping poverty; 
 
 The pois’nous shafts from defamation’s tongue,— 
 The jeers and tauntings of the blockhead throng, 
 Who joy to see thy bold exertions fail; 
 
 While hunger, pinching as December’s gale, 
 
 Brings moody dark despondency along. 
 
 And should’st thou strive fame’s lofty mount to scale, 
 The steps of its ascent are cut in sand ; 
 
 And half-way up—a snake-scourge in her hand, 
 Lurks pallid Envy, ready to assail 
 And last, if thou the top expiring gain, 
 
 When fame applauds, thou hearest not the strain. 
 
 Millhouse. 
 
 1456. GENIUS: limited in its range. 
 
 One science only will one genius fit, 
 
 So vast is art, so narrow human wit: 
 
 Like kings, we lose the conquests gain’d before 
 By vain ambition still to make them more.— Pope. 
 
 1457. GENIUS: often misunderstood. 
 
 As were a golden bird of Paradise 
 
 Turn’d loose among the daws, these straight would 
 
 fl y 
 
 Upon him with sharp beaks and cries of rage, 
 
 And peck the beauteous stranger till he died; 
 
 So likewise, ’tis the fate of genius rare 
 To rouse most bitter envy and dislike 
 Among the busy throng, to whom he seems 
 A rival—an enigma—a reproach ; 
 
 While he, in truth, can scarcely comprehend 
 The feeling, nor conceive that it can be ; 
 
 But, in his lone simplicity, believes 
 That all mankind are even as himself. 
 
 And oft, indeed, this very trustfulness— 
 
 This hopeful spirit makes the wondrous charm 
 
 Of all that genius does or says or thinks ; 
 
 Nor is destroy’d by age, but lasts through life, 
 
 And even helps to renovate, each day, 
 
 The wear and tear that pain and baffled wish 
 And oft-repeated disappointments cause. 
 
 Lady Chatterton. 
 
 1458. GENIUS. Piety and 
 
 How beautiful is genius when combined 
 
 With holiness ! Oh ! how divinely swell 
 
 The tones of earthly harp, whose chords are touch’d 
 
 By the soft hand of piety, and hung 
 
 Upon religion’s shrine, there vibrating 
 
 With solemn music in the ear of God. 
 
 1459. GENTILITY. 
 
 Nor stand so much on your gentility, 
 
 Which is an airy and mere borrow’d thing 
 
 From dead men’s dust and bones ; and none of yours, 
 
 Except you make, or hold it.— Jonson. 
 
 1460. GENTLEMAN. Behaviour of a 
 
 For your behaviour, let it be free and 
 Negligent; not clogg’d with ceremony 
 Or observance ; give no man honour but 
 Upon equal terms ; for look how much thou 
 Giv’st any man above that, so much thou 
 Tak’st from thyself.— Chapman. 
 
 He that bears himself like a gentleman, is 
 Worthy to have been born a gentleman. 
 
 Chapman. 
 
 1461. GENTLEMAN. Nature’s 
 
 Whom do we dub as gentlemen? The knave, the 
 fool, the brute, 
 
 If they but own full tithe of gold and wear a courtly 
 suit! 
 
 The parchment scroll of titled line, the riband at the 
 knee, 
 
 Can still suffice to ratify and grant such high degree: 
 But nature, with a matchless hand, sends forth her 
 nobly born, 
 
 And laughs the paltry attributes of wealth and rank 
 to scorn ; 
 
 She moulds with care a spirit rare, half human, half 
 divine, 
 
 And cries exulting, ‘ Who can make a gentleman like 
 mine ? ’ 
 
 He turns not from the cheerless home, where sorrow’s 
 offspring dwell ; 
 
 He’ll greet the peasant in his hut—the culpirt in his 
 cell. 
 
GENTLEMAN 
 
 284 
 
 GENTLENESS 
 
 He stays to hear the widow’s plaint of deep and 
 mourning love, 
 
 He seeks to aid her lot below, and prompt her faith 
 above. 
 
 The orphan child, the friendless one, the luckless, or 
 the poor, 
 
 Will never meet his spurning frown, or leave his 
 bolted door; 
 
 His kindred circles all mankind, his country all the 
 globe— 
 
 An honest name his jewell’d star, and truth his 
 ermine robe. 
 
 No haughty gesture marks his gait, no pompous tone 
 his word, 
 
 No studied attitude is seen, no palling nonsense 
 heard: 
 
 He’ll suit his bearing to the hour—laugh, listen, 
 learn, or teach, 
 
 With joyous freedom in his mirth, and candour in his 
 speech. 
 
 He worships God with inward zeal, and serves Him 
 in each deed ; 
 
 He would not blame another’s faith, nor have one 
 martyr bleed ; 
 
 Justice and mercy form his code ; he puts his trust in 
 Heaven ; 
 
 His prayer is, ‘ If the heart mean well, may all else 
 be forgiven ! ’ 
 
 Though few of such may gem the earth, yet such rare 
 gems there are, 
 
 Each shining in his hallow’d sphere as virtue’s polar 
 star. 
 
 Though human hearts too oft are found all gross, 
 corrupt, and dark, 
 
 Yet, yet some bosoms breathe and burn ; lit by Pro¬ 
 methean spark, 
 
 There are some spirits nobly just, unwarp’d by pelf 
 or pride, 
 
 Great in the calm, but greater still when dash’d by 
 adverse tide ; 
 
 They hold the rank no king can give, no station can 
 disgrace. 
 
 Nature puts forth her gentleman, and monarchs must 
 give place .—Eliza Cook. 
 
 1462. GENTLEMAN. Qualities of a 
 
 He is a noble gentleman ; withal 
 
 Happy in’s endeavours : the general voice 
 
 Sounds him for courtesy, behaviour, language, 
 
 And every fair demeanour, an example : 
 
 Titles of honour add not to his worth. 
 
 Who is himself an honour to his title.— Ford. 
 
 1463. GENTLENESS. Power of 
 
 Sweet speaking oft a currish heart reclaims, 
 
 Sidney. 
 
 His sweetness won a more regard 
 Unto his place, than all the boist’rous moods 
 That ignorant greatness prartiseth. — Jonson. 
 
 I’ve thought of all this pride, and all this pain, 
 
 And all the insolent plenitudes of power, 
 
 And I declare, by this most quiet hour, 
 
 Which holds in different tasks by the firelight 
 She, and my friends here, this delightful night, 
 
 That power itself has not one half the might 
 Of Gentleness. ’Tis want to all true wealth ; 
 
 The uneasy madman’s force, to the wise health ; 
 Blind downward beating, to the eyes that see ; 
 Noise to persuasion, doubt to certainty ; 
 
 The consciousness of strength in enemies, 
 
 Who must be strain’d upon or else they rise ; 
 
 The battle to the moon, who all the while, 
 
 High out of hearing, passes with her smile : 
 
 The tempest, trampling in his scanty run, 
 
 To the whole globe, that basks about the sun ; 
 
 Or as all shrieks and clangs, with which a sphere, 
 Undone and fired, could rake the midnight ear, 
 Compared with that vast dumbness nature keeps 
 Throughout her starry deeps, 
 
 Most old, and mild, and awful, and unbroken, 
 Which tells a tale of peace beyond whate’er was 
 spoken .—Leigh Hunt. 
 
 14.64. GENTLENESS. Words of 
 
 Speak gently ! it is better far 
 To rule by love than fear ; 
 
 Speak gently ! let not harsh words mar 
 The good we might do here. 
 
 Speak gently ! Love doth whisper low 
 The vows that true hearts bind, 
 
 And gently Friendship’s accents flow, 
 Affection’s voice is kind. 
 
 Speak gently to the little child ; 
 
 Its love be sure to gain ; 
 
 Teach it in accents soft and mild ; 
 
 It may not long remain. 
 
 Speak gently to the aged one, 
 
 Grieve not the care-worn heart; 
 
 The sands of life are nearly run ; 
 
 Let such in peace depart. 
 
 Speak gently to the young, for they 
 Will have enough to bear ; 
 
 Pass through this life as best they may, 
 
 ’Tis full of anxious care. 
 
GEOLOGY 
 
 285 
 
 GETHSEMANE 
 
 Speak gently, kindly, to the poor, 
 
 Let no harsh tones be heard ; 
 
 They have enough they must endure 
 Without an unkind word. 
 
 Speak gently to the erring ; know 
 They may have toil’d in vain ; 
 
 Perchance unkindness made them so ; 
 
 Oh ! win them back again. 
 
 Speak gently ! He who gave His life 
 To bend man’s stubborn will, 
 
 When elements were in fierce strife 
 Said to them, ‘ Peace, be still! ’ 
 
 Speak gently ! ’tis a little thing 
 Dropp’d in the heart’s deep well; 
 
 The good, the joy, which it may bring, 
 Eternity shall tell.— D. Bates. 
 
 1465. GEOLOGY. Atheistic 
 
 Searching those edges of the universe, 
 
 We leave the central fields, a fallow part; 
 
 To feed the eye more precious things amerce, 
 
 And starve the darken’d heart. 
 
 Then all goes wrong; the old foundations rock ; 
 
 One scorns at him of old who gazed unshod ; 
 One striking with a pick-axe thinks the shock 
 Shall move the seat of God.— Jean Ingelow. 
 
 1466. GETHSEMANE. Agony in 
 
 On His pale brow the drops are large and red 
 As victim’s blood at votive altar shed— 
 
 His hands are clasp’d, His eyes are raised in prayer— 
 Alas, and is there strife He cannot bear, 
 
 Who calm’d the tempest, and who raised the dead ? 
 There is ! there is ! for now the powers of hell 
 Are struggling for the mastery—Tis the hour 
 When death exerts his last permitted power, 
 
 When the dead weight of sin, since Adam fell, 
 
 Is visited on Him who deign’d to dwell 
 A man with men, that He might bear the stroke 
 Of wrath Divine, and break the captives’ yoke— 
 
 But oh, of that dread strife what words can tell ? 
 Those, only those which broke, with many a groan, 
 From His full heart—‘O Father, take away 
 The cup of vengeance I must drink to-day ; 
 
 Yet, Father, not My will, but Thine, be done ! ’ 
 
 It could not pass away—for He alone 
 Was mighty to endure and strong to save ; 
 
 Nor would Jehovah leave Him in the grave, 
 
 Nor could corruption taint His Holy One.— Dale. 
 
 1467. GETHSEMANE. Christ in 
 
 The moon was shining yet. The Orient’s brow, 
 
 Set with the morning-star, was not yet dim ; 
 
 And the deep silence which subdues the breath 
 Like a strong feeling, hung upon the world 
 As sleep upon the pulses of a child. 
 
 ’Twas the last watch of night. Gethsemane, 
 
 With its bathed leaves of silver, seem’d dissolved 
 In visible stillness ; and as Jesus’ voice, 
 
 With its bewildering sweetness, met the ear 
 
 Of His disciples, it vibrated on 
 
 Like the first whisper in a silent world. 
 
 They came on slowly. Heaviness oppress’d 
 The Saviour’s heart, and when the kindness 
 Of His deep love was pour’d, He felt the need 
 Of near communion, for His gift of strength 
 Was wasted by the spirit’s weariness. 
 
 He left them there, and went a little on, 
 
 And in the depth of that hush’d silentness, 
 
 Alone with God, He fell upon His face, 
 
 And as His heart was broken with the rush 
 Of His surpassing agony, and death, 
 
 Wrung to Him from a dying universe, 
 
 Was mightier than the Son of man could bear, 
 
 He gave His sorrows way, and in the deep 
 Prostration of His soul, breathed out the prayer, 
 
 ‘ Father, if it be possible with Thee, 
 
 Let this cup pass from Me.’ Oh, how a word, 
 
 Like the forced drop before the fountain breaks, 
 Scilleth the press of human agony ! 
 
 The Saviour felt its quiet in His soul; 
 
 And though His strength was weakness, and the 
 light 
 
 Which led Him on till now was sorely dim, 
 
 He breathed a new submission —‘ Not my will, 
 
 But Thine, be done, O Father ! ’ As He spoke, 
 Voices were heard in heaven, and music stole 
 Out from the chambers of the vaulted sky, 
 
 As if the stars were swept like instruments. 
 
 No cloud was visible, but radiant wings 
 Were coming with a silvery rush to earth, 
 
 And as the Saviour rose, a glorious one, 
 
 With an illumined forehead, and the light, 
 
 Whose fountain is the mystery of God, 
 
 Encalm’d within His eye, bow’d down to Him, 
 
 And nerved Him with a ministry of strength. 
 
 It was enough—and with His god-like brow 
 Re-written of Flis Father’s messenger, 
 
 With meekness whose divinity is more 
 Than power and glory, He return’d again 
 To His disciples, and awaked their sleep, 
 
 For ‘he that should betray Him was at hand. 
 
 Willis. 
 
 1468. GETHSEMANE. Lesson of 
 
 Wouldst thou learn the depth of sin, 
 
 All its bitterness and pain ? 
 
 What it cost thy God to win 
 Sinners to Himself again ? 
 
GETHSEMANE 
 
 286 
 
 GIVING 
 
 Come, poor sinner, come with me ; 
 
 Visit sad Gethsemane. 
 
 Wouldst thou know God’s wondrous love ? 
 
 Seek it not beside the throne ; 
 
 List not angels’ praise above, 
 
 But come and hear the heavy groan 
 By the Godhead heaved for thee, 
 
 Sinner, in Gethsemane. 
 
 When His tears and bloody sweat, 
 
 When His passion and His prayer, 
 
 When His pangs on Olivet, 
 
 Wake within thee thoughts of care— 
 Remember, sinner, ’twas for thee 
 He suffer’d in Gethsemane ! 
 
 Hate the sin that cost so dear ; 
 
 Love the God that loved thee so ; 
 
 Weep if thou wilt, but likewise fear 
 To bid that fountain freshly flow, 
 
 That gush’d so freely once for thee 
 In sorrowful Gethsemane.— Monsell. 
 
 1469. GETHSEMANE. View of 
 
 Bring the thrilling scene 
 Home to my inmost soul:—the sufferer’s cry, 
 
 ‘ Father, if it be possible, this cup 
 Take Thou away. Yet not My will, but Thine: ’ 
 The sleeping friends who could not watch one hour, 
 The torch, the flashing sword, the traitor’s kiss, 
 
 The astonish’d angel, with the tear of heaven 
 Upon His cheek, still striving to assuage 
 Those fearful pangs that bow’d the Son of God 
 Like a bruised reed. Thou who hast power to look 
 Thus at Gethsemane, be still ! be still! 
 
 What are thine insect-woes compared to His 
 Who agonizeth there? Count thy brief pains 
 As the dust atom on life’s chariot-wheels, 
 
 And in a Saviour’s grief forget them all. 
 
 Mrs Sigourney. 
 
 1470. GIFTS. Influence of 
 
 Policy counselleth a gift, given wisely and in season, 
 And policy afterwards approveth it, for great is the 
 influence of gifts. 
 
 The lover unsmiled before, is welcomed for his 
 jewell’d bauble: 
 
 The righteous cause without a fee must yield to 
 bounteous guilt. 
 
 How fair is a man in thine esteem whose just dis¬ 
 crimination seeketh thee, 
 
 And so, discerning merit, honoureth it with gifts ! 
 Yea, let the cause appear sufficient, and the motive 
 clear and unsuspicious, 
 
 As given unto one who cannot help, or proving 
 honest thanks. 
 
 There liveth not one among a million who is proof 
 against the charm of liberality, 
 
 And flattery, that boon of praise, hath power with 
 the wisest.— Tupper. 
 
 1471. GIFTS : may be rendered valueless. 
 
 Hamlet. I never gave you aught. 
 
 Ophelia. My honour’d lord, you know right well, 
 you did ; 
 
 And with them, words of so sweet breath composed 
 As made the things more rich: their perfume lost, 
 Take these again ; for to the noble mind 
 Rich gifts wax poor, when givers prove unkind. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 1472. GIFTS. Spiritual 
 
 Could I command with voice or pen 
 The tongues of angels and of men, 
 
 A tinkling cymbal, sounding brass, 
 
 My speech and preaching would surpass: 
 Vain were such eloquence to me 
 Without the grace of charity. 
 
 Could I the martyr’s flame endure, 
 
 Give all my goods to feed the poor; 
 
 Had I the faith from Alpine steep 
 To hurl the mountain to the deep, 
 
 What were such zeal, such power to me, 
 Without the grace of charity ? 
 
 Could I behold with prescient eye 
 Things future as the things gone by; 
 
 Could I all earthly knowledge scan, 
 
 And mete out heaven with a span, 
 
 Poor were the chief of gifts to me 
 Without the chiefest—charity. 
 
 Charity suffers long, is kind, 
 
 Charity bears a humble mind, 
 
 Rejoices not when ills befall, 
 
 But glories in the weal of all, 
 
 She hopes, believes, and envies not, 
 
 Nor vaunts, nor murmurs o’er her lot. 
 
 The tongues of teachers shall be dumb, 
 Prophets discern not things to come, 
 Knowledge shall vanish out of thought, 
 
 And miracles no more be wrought, 
 
 But charity shall never fail, 
 
 Her anchor is within the veil. 
 
 Janies Montgomery. 
 
 1473. GIVING. Analogies of 
 
 Give ! as the morning that flows out of heaven ; 
 Give ! as the waves when their channel is riven; 
 
G/V/NG 
 
 287 
 
 GLORY 
 
 Give ! as the free air and sunshine are given ; 
 
 Lavishly, utterly, joyfully give:— 
 
 Not the waste drops of thy cup overflowing, 
 
 Not the faint sparks of thy hearth ever glowing, 
 Not a pale bud from the June roses blowing ; 
 
 Give, as He gave thee, who gave thee to live. 
 
 Pour out thy love, like the rush of a river, 
 
 Wasting its waters, for ever and ever, 
 
 Through the burnt sands that reward not the giver; 
 
 Silent or songful, thou nearest the sea, 
 
 Scatter thy life, as the summer showers pouring ! 
 What if no bird through the pearl-rain is soaring ? 
 What if no blossom looks upward adoring ? 
 
 Look to the life that was lavish’d for thee ! 
 
 1474* GIVING. Grounds for 
 
 But what or who are we, alas ! 
 
 That we in giving are so free ? 
 
 Thine own before our offering was, 
 
 And all we have we have from Thee. 
 
 For we are guests and strangers here, 
 
 As were our fathers in Thy sight; 
 
 Our days but shadow-like appear, 
 
 And suddenly they take their flight. 
 
 George Wither. 
 
 H 75 - GIVING: must be performed discreetly. 
 
 Yet once more, heed thou this: give to the poor 
 discreetly, 
 
 Nor suffer idle sloth to lean upon thy charitable arm : 
 To diligence give, as to an equal, on just and fit 
 occasion ; 
 
 Or he bartereth his hard-earned self-reliance for the 
 casual lottery of gifts. 
 
 The timely loan hath added nerve, where easy liber¬ 
 ality would palsy ; 
 
 Work and wages make a light heart; but the mendi¬ 
 cant asketh with a heavy spirit. 
 
 A mans own self-iespect is worth unto him more 
 than money, 
 
 And evil is the charity that humbleth, and maketh 
 man less happy. — Tupper. 
 
 1476. GIVING. Reward of 
 
 See the rivers flowing 
 Downward to the sea, 
 
 Pouring all their treasures 
 Bountiful and free; 
 
 Yet to help their giving 
 Hidden springs arise ; 
 
 Or, if need be, showers 
 Feed them from the skies. 
 
 Watch the princely flowers 
 Their rich fragrance spread. 
 
 Load the air with perfumes 
 From their beauty shed ; 
 
 Yet their lavish spending 
 Leaves them not in dearth, 
 
 With fresh life replenish’d 
 By their mother earth. 
 
 Give thy heart’s best treasures ! 
 
 From fair nature learn ; 
 
 Give thy love—and ask not, 
 
 Wait not a return. 
 
 And the more thou spendest 
 From thy little store, 
 
 With a double bounty, 
 
 God will give thee more. 
 
 Adelaide Anne Procter. 
 
 14 77 ' GIVING: the condition of getting. 
 
 A beggar ask’d an alms 
 One day at an abbey-door, 
 
 Said Luther; but seized with qualms, 
 
 The abbot replied, ‘ We’re poor ! 
 
 ‘ Poor, who had plenty once 
 When gifts fell thick as rain : 
 
 But they give us nought for nonce, 
 
 And how should we give again ? ’ 
 
 Then the beggar, ‘ See your sins ! 
 
 Of old, unless I err, 
 
 Ye had brothers for inmates, twins, 
 
 Date and Dabitur. 
 
 ‘ While Date was in good case 
 Dabitur flourish’d too: 
 
 For Dabitur’s lenten face, 
 
 No wonder if Date rue. 
 
 ‘ Would ye retrieve the one? 
 
 Try and make plump the other! 
 
 When Date’s penance is done, 
 
 Dabitur helps his brother. 
 
 ‘ Only, beware relapse! ’ 
 
 The Abbot hung his head. 
 
 * This beggar might be, perhaps, 
 
 An angel,’ Luther said.— Browning. 
 
 1478. GLORY: brings little happiness. 
 
 Glories, like glow-worms, afar off shine bright, 
 
 But, look’d too near, have neither heat nor light. 
 
 Webster. 
 
 Who pants for glory finds but short repose, 
 
 A breath revives him, and a breath o’erthrows. 
 
 Pope. 
 
GLORY 
 
 288 
 
 GLORY OF GOD 
 
 1479. GLORY: exposes us to envy. 
 
 The secret enemy whose sleepless eye 
 Stands sentinel, avenger, judge, and spy. 
 
 The foe, the fool, the jealous and the vain, 
 
 The envious who but breathe in others’ pain, 
 Behold the host! delighting to deprave, 
 
 Who track the steps of glory to the grave. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 1480. GLORY: transient. 
 
 Glory is like a circle in the water, 
 
 Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself, 
 
 Till by broad spreading it disperse to nought. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 For this world’s glory 
 
 Is figured in the moon ; they both wax dull, 
 
 And suffer their eclipses in the full.— Aleyn. 
 
 What is glory ? What is fame ? 
 
 The echo of a long-lost name ; 
 
 A breath, an idle hour’s brief talk ; 
 
 The shadow of an arrant naught; 
 
 A flower that blossoms for a day, 
 
 Dying next morrow ; 
 
 A stream that hurries on its way, 
 
 Singing of sorrow.— Motherwell. 
 
 Our glories float between the earth and heaven 
 Like clouds that seem pavilions of the sun, 
 
 And are the playthings of the casual wind. 
 
 Bnlwer. 
 
 1481. GLORY. True 
 
 This is true glory and renown, when God, 
 Looking on the earth, with approbation marks 
 The just man, and divulges him through heaven 
 To all His angels, who with true applause 
 Recount his praises: thus He did to Job, 
 
 Who famous was in heaven, on earth less known ; 
 Where glory is false glory, attributed 
 To things not glorious, men not worthy of fame. 
 They err who count it glorious to subdue 
 By conquest far and wide, to over-run 
 Large countries, and in field great battles win, 
 Great cities by assault: what do these worthies, 
 But rob and spoil, burn, slaughter, and enslave 
 Peaceable nations, neighbouring or remote, 
 
 Made captive, yet deserving freedom more 
 Than those their conquerors, who leave behind 
 Nothing but ruin wheresoe’er they rove, 
 
 And all the flourishing arts of peace destroy. 
 
 But if there be in glory aught of good, 
 
 It may by means far different be attain d, 
 
 Without ambition, war, or violence ; 
 
 By deeds of peace, by wisdom eminent, 
 
 By patience, temperance.— Milton. 
 
 Real glory 
 
 Springs from the quiet conquest of ourselves ; 
 
 And without that the conqueror is nought 
 But the first slave. — Thomson. 
 
 1482. GLORY. True 
 
 What is true glory? Not the loud acclaim 
 
 Of heedless throngs that shout, they know not 
 why, 
 
 Clamorous hosannahs, when some favour’d name 
 For the brief hour is echoed to the sky ; 
 
 Not eminence of place that sets on high, 
 
 And gives to wield the power that rules the state ; 
 Nor royal splendours that enchant the eye 
 In gorgeous palaces where courtiers wait; 
 Ambition hath not reach’d it when the prize 
 Long coveted by strifes or guile is won ; 
 
 When, like the eagle soaring to the skies 
 
 And bathed in light beneath the unclouded sun, 
 
 It proudly triumphs in its daring flight, 
 
 And on a world looks down in conscious might. 
 
 True glory is the lustre pure and fair 
 In which exalted virtue stands array’d ; 
 
 No changeful, transient blaze, no meteor glare 
 That e’en while yet beheld doth straightway fade; 
 ’Tis as a robe of sunbeams deftly made, 
 
 That glows undimm’d through the long flight of 
 years; 
 
 That whoso wears, unreach’d by envious shade, 
 
 As dress’d in Heaven’s own livery appears: 
 
 ’Tis won by patient service, loving deeds 
 Wrought for mankind in firm self-sacrifice; 
 
 By treading the rough path where duty leads ; 
 
 By trust that e’er on God and truth relies ; 
 
 By courage that knows not to yield, or fly, 
 
 But, battling for the right, can calmly die ! 
 
 Ray Palmer. 
 
 1483. GLORY OF GOD: how it is rendered. 
 
 My soul, rest happy in thy low estate, 
 
 Nor hope nor wish to be esteem’d or great: 
 
 To take the impression of a will Divine— 
 
 Be that thy glory, and those riches thine. 
 
 Confess Him righteous in His just decrees ; 
 
 Love what He loves, and let His pleasure please ; 
 Die daily ; from the touch of sin recede ; 
 
 Then thou hast crown’d Him, and He reigns indeed. 
 
 Madame Guyon, ir. by Cowper. 
 
 1484. GLORY OF GOD : may be sought in all 
 things. 
 
 Teach me, my God and King, 
 
 In Thee all things to see ; 
 
GLORY OF GOD 
 
 289 
 
 GOD 
 
 And what I do in anything, 
 
 To do it as for Thee. 
 
 Not rudely, as a beast, 
 
 To run into an action ; 
 
 But still to make Thee prepossest, 
 
 And give it his perfection. 
 
 A man that looks on glass, 
 
 On it may stay his eye, 
 
 Or, if he pleases, through it pass, 
 
 And then the heavens espy. 
 
 All may of Thee partake : 
 
 Nothing can be so mean 
 
 Which with this tincture, ‘ For Thy sake/ 
 Will not grow bright and clean. 
 
 A servant with this clause 
 Makes drudgery divine; 
 
 Who sweeps a room as by Thy laws, 
 
 Makes that and th’ action fine. 
 
 This is the famous stone 
 That turneth all to gold ; 
 
 For that which God doth touch and own 
 Cannot for less be told.— George Herbert. 
 
 1485. GLORY OF GOD : usurped by man. 
 
 Glory of God ! thou stranger here below, 
 
 Whom man nor knows, nor feels a wish to know: 
 Our faith and reason are both shock’d to find 
 Man in the post of honour, thee behind. 
 
 Reason exclaims, ‘ Let every creature fall, 
 Ashamed, abased, before the Lord of all! ’ 
 
 And Faith, o’erwhelm’d with such a dazzling blaze, 
 Feebly describes the beauty she surveys. 
 
 Yet man, dim-sighted man, and rash as blind, 
 
 Deaf to the dictates of his better mind, 
 
 In frantic competition dares the skies, 
 
 And claims precedence of the Only-Wise. 
 
 Oh lost in vanity till once self-known ! 
 
 Nothing is great or good but God alone : 
 
 When thou shalt stand before His awful face, 
 
 Then, at the last, thy pride shall know its place. 
 
 Madame Guy on, tr. by Cowper. 
 
 1486. GLUTTONY. 
 
 Fat paunches have lean pates; and dainty bits 
 Make rich the ribs, but bankrupt quite the wits. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Prompted by instinct’s never-erring power, 
 
 Each creature knows its proper aliment; 
 
 But man, th’ inhabitant of every clime, 
 
 With all the commoners of nature feeds. 
 
 Directed, bounded, by this power within, 
 
 Their cravings are well aim’d : voluptuous man 
 Is by superior faculties misled ; 
 
 Misled from pleasure even in quest of joy : 
 
 Sated with nature’s boons, what thousands seek, 
 With dishes tortured from their native taste, 
 
 And mad variety, to spur beyond 
 Its wiser will the jaded appetite ! 
 
 Is this for pleasure ? learn a juster taste ! 
 
 And know that temperance is true luxury. 
 
 Armstrong. 
 
 Beyond the sense 
 
 Of light refection, at the genial board 
 Indulge not often ; nor protract the feast 
 To dull satiety; till soft and slow 
 A drowsy death creeps on th’ expansive soul, 
 Oppress’d and smother’d the celestial fire. 
 
 A rmstrong. 
 
 Some men are bom to feast, and not to fight; 
 Whose sluggish minds, e’en in fair honour’s field, 
 Still on their dinner turn— 
 
 Let such pot-boiling varlets stay at home, 
 
 And wield a flesh-hook rather than a sword. 
 
 Joanna Baillie. 
 
 1487. GOD. Abode of 
 
 On Alpine heights the love of God is shed; 
 
 He paints the morning red, 
 
 The flowerets white and blue, 
 
 And feeds them with His dew. 
 
 On Alpine heights a loving Father dwells. 
 
 On Alpine heights, o’er many a fragrant heath, 
 The loveliest breezes breathe ; 
 
 So free and pure the air, 
 
 His breath seems floating there. 
 
 On Alpine heights a loving Father dwells. 
 
 On Alpine heights, beneath His mild blue eye, 
 Still vales and meadows lie ; 
 
 The soaring glacier’s ice 
 Gleams like a paradise. 
 
 On Alpine heights a loving Father dwejls. 
 
 Down Alpine heights the silvery streamlets flow; 
 There the bold chamois go ; 
 
 On giddy crags they stand, 
 
 And drink from His own hand. 
 
 On Alpine heights a loving Father dwells. 
 
 On Alpine heights, in tr 0 ops all white as Snow, 
 The sheep and tvild goats go ; 
 
 There, in the solitude, 
 
 He fills their hearts with food. 
 
 On Alpine heights loving Father dwells. 
 
 19 
 
GOD 
 
 290 
 
 GOD 
 
 On Alpine heights the herdsman tends his herd ; 
 His Shepherd is the Lord ; 
 
 For He who feeds the sheep 
 Will sure His offspring keep. 
 
 On Alpine heights a loving Father dwells. 
 
 Krummacher , tr. by Brooks. 
 
 1488. GOD. Attractions of 
 
 And as the waxing moon can take 
 The tidal waters in her wake, 
 
 And lead them round and round to break 
 Obedient to her drawings dim ; 
 
 So may the movements of His mind, 
 
 The first Great Father of mankind, 
 
 Affect with answering movements blind, 
 
 And draw the souls that breathe by Him. 
 
 Jean Ingeloiv. 
 
 1489. GOD. Book of 
 
 There is a book, who runs may read, 
 
 Which heavenly truth imparts. 
 
 And all the lore its scholars need, 
 
 Pure eyes and Christian hearts. 
 
 The works of God, above, below. 
 
 Within us and around, 
 
 Are pages in that book, to show 
 How God Himself is found. 
 
 Two worlds are ours: ’tis only sin 
 Forbids us to descry 
 The mystic heaven and earth within, 
 
 Plain as the sea and sky. 
 
 Thou who hast given me eyes to see 
 And love this sight so fair, 
 
 Give me a heart to find out Thee, 
 
 And read Thee everywhere.— Keble. 
 
 1490. GOD. Boundless love of 
 
 Could we with ink the ocean fill, 
 
 Were the whole world of parchment made, 
 Were every single stick a quill, 
 
 Were every man a scribe by trade; 
 
 To write the love of God alone, 
 
 Would drain the ocean dry ; 
 
 Nor would the scroll contain the whole, 
 Though stretch’d from sky to sky. 
 
 1491- GOD-. Caie-pf 
 
 There is an Eye that never sleeps 
 Beneath the wing of night; 
 
 There is an Ear that neV er shuts 
 When sink the beams of light. 
 
 There is an Arm that never tires 
 When human strength gives way; 
 
 There is a Love that never fails 
 When earthly loves decay. 
 
 That Eye is fix’d on seraph throngs ; 
 
 That Ear is fill’d with angels’ songs ; 
 
 That Arm upholds the worlds on high , 
 
 That Love is throned beyond the sky.— Heber. 
 
 ^ 1492. GOD. Eternity of 
 
 Thou dread source, 
 
 Prime, self-existing cause and end of all 
 That in the scale of being fill their place; 
 
 Above our human region or below, 
 
 Set and sustain’d. Thou, Thou alone, O Lord, 
 Art everlasting !— Wordsworth. 
 
 God liveth ever! 
 
 Wherefore, soul, despair thou never ! 
 
 He who can earth and heaven control, 
 
 Who spreads the clouds o’er sea and land, 
 Whose presence fills the mighty whole, 
 
 In each true heart is close at hand. 
 
 Love Him, He will surely send 
 Help and joy that never end. 
 
 Soul, remember in thy pains, 
 
 God o’er all for ever reigns ! 
 
 God liveth ever! 
 
 Wherefore, soul, despair thou never ! 
 
 Scarce canst thou bear thy cross ? Then fly 
 To Him where rest is only sweet; 
 
 Thy God is great, His mercy nigh, 
 
 His strength upholds the tottering feet. 
 
 Trust Him, for His grace is sure, 
 
 Ever doth His truth endure ; 
 
 Soul, forget not in thy pains, 
 
 God o’er all for ever reigns ! 
 
 God liveth ever! 
 
 Wherefore, soul, despair thou never! 
 
 What though thou tread with bleeding feet 
 A thorny path of grief and gloom, 
 
 Thy God will choose the way most meet 
 To lead thee heavenward, lead thee home. 
 For this life’s long night of sadness, 
 
 He will give thee peace and gladness ! 
 Soul, forget not in thy pains, 
 
 God o’er all for ever reigns !— Zehn. 
 
 * 
 
 1493. GOD : everywhere present. 
 
 Where’er thou art, He is ; th’ eternal Mind 
 Acts through all places ; is to none confined ; 
 Fills ocean, earth, and air, and all above, 
 
 And through the universal mass does move. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
GOD 
 
 291 
 
 COD 
 
 Where’er I turn my restless eye, 
 
 Wandering from earth to heaven, from sphere to 
 sphere, 
 
 Great God ! I feel Thy present Deity, 
 
 Everywhere feel Thee—Thou art everywhere. 
 
 Yes ! Thou are there—above the empyreum high, 
 Veil’d all in light; 
 
 Filling creation with Thy presence bright, 
 
 With the proud splendour of Thy majesty. 
 
 The little flower that grows 
 
 Beneath me ; the gigantic mountain steep, 
 
 Whose brow is cover’d with eternal snows, 
 
 Whose roots are planted in the deep ; 
 
 The breeze that murmuring blows 
 
 Among the green leaves, rustling in the sun, 
 
 And yonder glorious star, advancing on, 
 Gladdening earth, heaven, and all things as he goes > 
 These tell me that ’tis Thou 
 
 Who giv’st that sun his brightness—Thou whose 
 wing, 
 
 Upon the rapid whirlwind journeying, 
 
 From the Aurora to the West doth go ; 
 
 And that the mountain’s towering height 
 Is Thy majestic throne : 
 
 And that the flower which breathes and blooms 
 alone, 
 
 Breathes, blooms in Thy pure sight. 
 
 >Tis Thine immensity 
 
 Which compasses all this, and more ; confess’d, 
 
 As in the greatest—in the least; 
 
 Atom—or comet, blazing through the sky : 
 
 Thine is the circling robe 
 
 Of darkness, Thine the subtle veil 
 Of the opening morning pale, 
 
 When first she throws her glories o’er the globe. 
 
 And when the Spring descends 
 
 On the wide world, and decks her joyous bowers, 
 Thou smilest gently in her loveliest flowers ; 
 
 Thy spirit with their sweetest odours blends. 
 
 When the red Sirius bears 
 
 His burning ardours through the summer hour. 
 
 Thy breezes play among the swelling ears, 
 
 And calm and temper his too furious power. 
 
 I seek the leafy shade 
 
 And Thou art there ; among the Avelcoming trees 
 I feel Thy visitings in the freshen’d breeze ; 
 
 My spirit rests—my cares, my sorrows fade. 
 
 Then a religious fear 
 
 Troubles my bosom, and I hear a sound : 
 
 ‘ Humbly adore Him here, 
 
 In this mysterious solitude profound.’ 
 
 Thou art upon the mighty waves 
 
 Of the deep sea ; and Thou dost bind 
 
 The bursting fury of the wind— 
 
 Or let it loose, when -the wild tempest raves. 
 Where’er I go, where’er I turn, 
 
 I see Thee, feel Thee !—in the flowery mead, 
 
 As in the starry field above our head, 
 
 Where such unnumber’d torches burn. 
 
 Thou art the God of atoms—as of suns ! 
 
 Of the poor, perishing worm 
 That in the dust the eye of mortals shuns, 
 
 Or angels pure, who veil their dazzled form 
 Before Thee ! Thou dost hear the hymn 
 Of this Thy lowly worshipper ; of the poor 
 And innocent lamb the bleatings, as the roar 
 Of the fierce lion, or of seraphim 
 The anthem ; and to all beneficent 
 
 Thou bendest down Thine ear, and givest 
 Their destined portion. Thou, who reignest, livest 
 Eternally, the offering I present 
 Accept in mercy ; mercifully view 
 This transitory being ; let me stand 
 As ever in Thy presence—see Thy hand 
 In all things, and in all Thy wisdom too. 
 
 Fill up my mounting soul 
 
 With holy ardour ; that where’er I tread, 
 
 Like Thee I may a blessed influence shed, 
 
 And own Thee, trace Thee through the extended 
 whole 
 
 Of the wide universe. The race of man 
 Are all Thy sons—the Tartar, Laplander, 
 
 Rude Indian, and the sunburnt African— 
 
 Thine image all—and all my brethren are. 
 
 Melendez, tr. by Bowning. 
 
 1494. GOD. Fulness of 
 
 A million beats of man’s united heart 
 
 Are fainter than one throb of ocean’s pulse, 
 
 Which thrills her awful veins in every part, 
 
 And throws up waifs of shells and crimson dulse. 
 
 A million tides of ocean’s weltering breast 
 
 Are weaker than one glance that lights the sun, 
 When in the banner’d east he breaks his rest, 
 
 His race gigantic round the sky to run. 
 
 A million journeys of the sun’s swift foot 
 Are smaller than one limit of the space 
 Through which the tree of life from being’s root 
 Upsprings, powder’d with stars, in heaven’s face. 
 
 A million trees of life, with all their loads, 
 
 But poorly God’s profound domain reveal : 
 
 The crowds of worlds that throng heaven’s thickest 
 roads 
 
 Are letters of a word His lips unseal. 
 
GOD 
 
 292 
 
 GOD 
 
 A million worlds, with universes rife, 
 
 His all-creative might can nowise drain : 
 
 When closing order bounds chaotic strife, 
 
 His fulness as before doth still remain. 
 
 That fulness such, in truth’s stupendous force, 
 
 That to His thought serene and tender gaze, 
 
 The frailest insect, warbling through its course, 
 
 Is just as near as seraph in his blaze. 
 
 Yea, though all worlds of space would be, combined, 
 Too small to fit His finger to a ring ; 
 
 Yet is He not to humblest creatures blind, 
 
 But daily spreads their board, and hears them sing. 
 
 Each tear forlorn that trickles down man’s cheeks, 
 
 He marks, and pities every aching sigh ; 
 
 To give them compensation ever seeks ; 
 
 Their life-woes shares ; and takes them when they 
 die. 
 
 And in His home—though paeans swept the halls, 
 
 And glory domed the universal height— 
 
 If over one poor soul hell spread its palls, 
 
 There would be night, and wailing in the night. 
 
 Oriental , tr. by Alger. 
 
 1495. GOD. Glory of 
 
 An aged Sultan placed before his throne one day 
 Three urns : one golden was, one amber, and one 
 clay; 
 
 When with his royal seal the slaves had seal’d each 
 urn, 
 
 He order’d his three sons to take their choice in turn. 
 
 Upon the golden vase the word Empire was writ ; 
 The haughty word resplendent groups of jewels 
 stud. 
 
 The eldest grasp’d the golden urn, and open’d it— 
 But shrank in horror back to find it fill’d with 
 blood ! 
 
 The word Glory upon the amber vase shone bright ; 
 The luring word fresh wreaths of laurels cluster 
 o’er. 
 
 The second chose the amber urn—pathetic sight ! 
 ’Twas fill’d with dust of men once famed, now 
 known no more. 
 
 No word inscribed upon its front the clay vase bore, 
 And yet for this the youngest prince his choice had 
 saved. 
 
 He oped the urn of clay his father’s feet before— 
 
 And lo ! ’twas empty, but God’s name was there 
 engraved. 
 
 The Sultan to the wondering throng of courtiers 
 turn’d, 
 
 And ask’d them which of all those vases weigh’d 
 the most ? 
 
 ~~ V 
 
 Far different thoughts within their various bosoms 
 burn’d : 
 
 Into a threefold party broke the courtier host. 
 
 The warriors said, ‘The golden vase, symbol of 
 power.’ 
 
 The poets said, ‘ The amber vase, emblem of fame.’ 
 
 The sages said, ‘ The clayey vase, God’s name its 
 dower : 
 
 The globe is lighter than one letter of that name.’ 
 
 Then said the Sultan to his sons : ‘ Remember well 
 The meaning of this scene, the lesson of this day. 
 When your lives’ dust is balanced over heaven and V 
 
 hell, ^ 
 
 Ah ! think, will its renown the name of God out¬ 
 weigh?’— Oriental , ir. by Alger. 
 
 1496. GOD. Greatness of 
 
 ‘ Lord, Thou art great!’ I cry when in the east 
 The day is blooming like a rose of fire; 
 
 When, to partake anew of life’s rich feast, 
 
 Nature and man awake with fresh desire. 
 
 When art Thou seen more gracious, God of power, 
 
 Than in the morn’s great resurrection hour ? 
 
 ‘ Lord, Thou art great! ’ I cry when blackness 
 shrouds 
 
 The noon-day heavens, and crinkling lightnings 
 flame, 
 
 And on the tablet of the thunder-clouds 
 
 In fiery letters write Thy dreadful name. * 
 
 When art Thou, Lord, more terrible in wrath, 
 
 Than in the mid-day tempest’s lowering path ? 
 
 ‘ Lord, Thou art great ! ’ I cry when in the west g 
 Day, softly vanquish’d, shuts his glowing eye ; 
 
 When song-feasts ring from every woodland nest, , 
 And all in melancholy sweetness die. 
 
 When giv’st Thou, Lord, our hearts more bless’d r 
 repose 
 
 Than in the magic of Thy evening shows ? 
 
 ‘ Lord, Thou art great !’ I cry at dead of night, u 
 When silence broods alike on land and deep ; 
 
 When stars go up and down the blue-arch’d heights, j 
 And on the silver clouds the moonbeams sleep. 
 
 When beckonest Thou, O Lord, to loftier heights, 1 
 Than in the silent praise of holy nights ? 
 
 ‘ Lord, Thou art great! ’ in nature’s every form; 
 
 Greater in none, simply most great in all; 4 
 
 In tears and terrors, sunshine, smile, and storm, 
 
 And all that stirs the heart, is felt Thy call. ^ 
 
 ‘Lord, Thou art great!’ Oh, let me praise Thy 
 name, 
 
 And grow in greatness as I Thine proclaim. 
 
 Seidel, tr. by Brooks. 
 
GOD 
 
 293 
 
 GOD 
 
 1497. GOD : His delight in His people. 
 
 God will deign 
 
 To visit oft the dwellings of just men, 
 Delighted, and with frequent intercourse 
 Thither will send his winged messengers 
 On errands of supernal grace.— Milton. 
 
 1498. GOD : His long-suffering. 
 
 We see Thy hand,—it leads us, it supports us ; 
 
 We hear Thy voice,—it counsels and it courts us ; 
 
 And then we turn away, and still Thy kindness 
 Pardons our blindness. 
 
 And still Thy rain descends, Thy sun is glowing, 
 
 Fruits ripen round, flowers are beneath us blowing; 
 
 And, as if man were some deserving creature, 
 
 Joy covers nature. 
 
 Oh, how long-suffering, Lord ! but Thou delightest 
 
 To win with love the wandering ; Thou invitest, 
 
 By smiles of mercy, not by frowns or terrors, 
 
 Man from his errors. 
 
 1499. GOD : His love. 
 
 Thou Love Divine, encircling all, 
 
 A soundless, shoreless sea, 
 
 Wherein at last our souls shall fall, 
 
 O love of God most free ! 
 
 When over dizzy heights we go, 
 
 One soft hand blinds our eyes, 
 
 The other leads us safe and slow, 
 
 O love of God most wise ! 
 
 And though we turn us from Thy face, 
 
 And wander wide and long, 
 
 Thou hold’st us still in Thine embrace, 
 
 O love of God most strong ! 
 
 The sadden’d heart, the restless soul, 
 
 The toil-worn frame and mind, 
 
 Alike confess Thy sweet control, 
 
 O love of God most kind ! 
 
 But not alone Thy care we claim, 
 
 Our wayward steps to win : 
 
 We know Thee by a dearer name, 
 
 O love of God within ! 
 
 And, fill’d and quicken’d by Thy breath 
 Our souls are strong and free 
 
 To rise o’er sin, and fear, and death, 
 
 O love of God, to Thee ! 
 
 What is more tender than a mother’s love 
 To the sweet infant fondling in her arms? 
 
 What arguments need her compassion move 
 To hear its cries, and help it in its harms? 
 
 Now, if the tenderest mother were possess’d 
 Of all the love within her single breast 
 Of all the mothers since the world began, 
 
 ’Tis nothing to the love of God to man. 
 
 'John Byrom. 
 
 1500. GOD : His sufficiency. 
 
 O God, Thy power is wonderful; 
 
 Thy glory, passing bright; 
 
 Thy wisdom, with its deep on deep, 
 
 A rapture to the sight. 
 
 I see Thee in the eternal years, 
 
 In glory all alone, 
 
 Ere round Thine uncreated fires 
 Created light had shone. 
 
 I see Thee walk in Eden’s shade; 
 
 I see Thee through all time ; 
 
 Thy patience and compassion seem 
 New attributes sublime. 
 
 All things that have been, all that are, 
 
 All things that can be dream’d ; 
 
 All possible creations, made, 
 
 Kept faithful, or redeem’d,—• 
 
 All these may draw upon Thy power, 
 
 Thy mercy may command ; 
 
 And still outflows Thy silent sea, 
 Immutable and grand. 
 
 O little heart of mine, shall pain 
 Or sorrow make thee moan, 
 
 When this great God is all for thee, 
 
 A Father all thine own?— Faber. 
 
 1501. GOD: incomprehensible. 
 
 In this wild maze their vain endeavours end ; 
 Plow can the less the greater comprehend, 
 
 Or finite reason reach infinity ? 
 
 P’or what could fathom God were more than He. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 Thy throne is darkness, in th’ abyss of light; 
 
 A blaze of glory that forbids the sight. 
 
 Oh teach me to believe Thee thus conceal’d, 
 And search no farther than Thyself reveal’d. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 Long pored St Austin o’er the sacred page, 
 
 And doubt and darkness overspread his mind ; 
 
 On God’s mysterious being thought the sage, 
 
 The triple Person in one Godhead join’d. 
 
 The more he thought, the harder did he find 
 
 To solve the various doubts which fast arose ; 
 
 And as a ship, caught by impetuous wind, 
 
GOD 
 
 294 
 
 GOD 
 
 Tosses where chance its scatter’d body throws, 
 
 So toss’d his troubled soul, and nowhere found re¬ 
 pose. 
 
 Heated and feverish, then he closed his tome 
 And went to wander by the ocean side, 
 
 Where the cool breeze at evening loved to come, 
 Murm’ring responsive to the murm’ring tide ; 
 
 And as Augustine o’er its margent wide 
 Stray’d, deeply pondering on the puzzling theme, 
 
 A little child before him he espied; 
 
 In earnest labour did the urchin seem, 
 
 Working with heart intent close by the sounding 
 stream. 
 
 He look’d, and saw the child a hole had scoop’d, 
 Shallow and narrow, in the shining sand, 
 
 O’er which at work the labouring infant stoop’d, 
 
 Still pouring water in with busy hand : 
 
 The saint address’d the child in accents bland : 
 
 * Fair boy,’ quoth he, ‘I pray, what toil is thine? 
 
 Let me its end and purpose understand.’ 
 
 The boy replied, ‘ An easy task is mine, 
 
 To sweep into this hole all the wide ocean’s brine.’ 
 
 ‘ Oh, foolish boy ! ’ the saint exclaim’d, ‘ to hope 
 That the broad ocean in that hole should lie ! ’ 
 
 ‘ Oh, foolish saint! ’ exclaim’d the boy, ‘ thy scope 
 Is still more hopeless than the toil I ply ! 
 
 Who think’st to comprehend God’s nature high, 
 
 In the small compass of thine human wit. 
 
 Sooner, Augustine, sooner far shall I 
 Confine the ocean in this tiny pit, 
 
 Than finite minds conceive God’s nature infinite ! ’ 
 
 1502. GOD. Infinity of 
 
 Thou, Lord ! art all in all, and man is nought: 
 
 For though in privileged hours his soaring thought 
 Would seem to catch a glance of Thee, Thy light 
 Soon becomes dazzling, and he sinks in night. 
 
 Yes ! we are blind—and when we most aspire, 
 
 Most feel our weakness and our vain desire. 
 
 We trace the comets in their orbits—fly 
 From star to star, across the crowded sky, 
 
 And, far beyond what natural powers discern, 
 
 Guided by art, we nature’s mysteries learn : 
 
 But when we think of Thee—confounded, lost, 
 
 From one proud billow to another toss’d, 
 
 Our reason wreck’d, the horizon shaded o’er, 
 
 We dash upon a dark and dangerous shore. 
 
 What art Thou, Lord ? By what high name, what 
 word 
 
 Of majesty, shall we address Thee, Lord? 
 
 God ! awful sound, recess of mystery ! 
 
 God ! what strange notions of infinity, 
 
 Infinity of wisdom, power, and love, 
 
 Through the still’d heart in shadowy visions move, 
 Link’d with all space, all being, deep and vast : 
 
 ’Tis a vague sense of future and of past— 
 
 Of things beyond the stars, of death, of birth, 
 
 Of a wing’d spirit wandering o’er the earth, 
 Travelling from sun to sun, of whispering wind, 
 
 Of thunder, of a more than mortal mind, 
 
 That sometimes visits man : a rolling flood 
 Invisible ; an infinite tide of good, 
 
 O’erflowing all ; a presence in the air. 
 
 Upon the land, the waters, everywhere ! 
 
 God ! God ! word written on the waves, impress’d 
 Upon fair Nature’s universal breast,— 
 
 Wafted by every breeze, and borne along 
 By every motion that has sense or song— 
 
 Splendent above and beautiful below, 
 
 The soul of all the universe art Thou ! 
 
 We find Thee there—we revel in the thought— 
 Forgive the daring, Lord ! we know Thee not. 
 When man hath scaled the heavens, and weigh’d the 
 sun, 
 
 And visited the stars—then, Infinite One ! 
 
 Then may he, then, though still unworthily, 
 
 Lift up his thoughts and turn his eyes to Thee ; 
 
 To Thee, whose glorious brightness human eye 
 Ne’er gazed on yet in its intensity. 
 
 O God ! I tremble when on Thee I think ; 
 
 I feel as if I shudder’d on the brink 
 Of profanation—yet I love Thee : read 
 My doubting, fearing heart—it loves indeed ! 
 
 Loves, and would fain obey—Oh, touch the chord 
 That vibrates at Thy name, and tune it, Lord ! 
 
 To reverence and to virtue : all beside— 
 
 The vain desires of folly or of pride— 
 
 All, all I throw, an offering at Thy feet ; 
 
 Accept that homage, Being Infinite !— Bowring. 
 
 1503. GOD. Knowledge of 
 
 Father of light and life, Thou good supreme ! 
 
 Oh teach me what is good!—teach me Thyself! 
 Save me from folly, vanity, and vice, 
 
 From every low pursuit! and feed my soul 
 With knowledge, conscious peace, and virtue pure ; 
 Sacred, substantial, never-fading bliss ! 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 1504. GOD. Love of 
 
 Why comes this fragrance on the summer breeze, 
 The blended tribute of ten thousand flowers, 
 
 To me a frequent wanderer 'mid the trees 
 
 That form those gay, though solitary bowers ? 
 One answer is around, beneath, above, 
 
 The echo of the voice, that ‘ God is Love. * 
 
GOD 
 
 295 
 
 GOD 
 
 Why bursts such melody from bush and tree, 
 
 The overflowing of each songster’s heart, 
 
 So filling mine that it can scarcely be 
 
 Content to listen, but would take its part ? 
 
 ’Tis but one song I hear where’er I rove, 
 
 Though countless be the notes, that * God is Love. ’ 
 
 In heaven’s starr’d pavement at the midnight hour, 
 In roseate hues that come at morning dawn, 
 
 In the bright bow athwart the falling shower, 
 
 In woods and waters, hills and velvet lawn, 
 
 One truth is written, all conspire to prove, 
 
 What grace of old reveal’d, that ‘ God is Love.’ 
 
 Nor less this pulse of health, this step of joy, 
 
 This heart so moved with beauty, perfume, song, 
 This spirit, soaring through a gorgeous sky, 
 
 Or diving ocean’s coral caves among, 
 
 Fleeter than darting fish or swiftest dove— 
 
 All, all, declare the same, that ‘ God is Love. ’ 
 
 Davies. 
 
 1505. GOD. Messengers of 
 
 All that in this wide world we see, 
 
 Almighty Father ! speaks of Thee ; 
 
 And in the darkness, or the day, 
 
 Thy monitors surround our way. 
 
 The fearful storms that sweep the sky, 
 
 The maladies by which we die, 
 
 The pangs that make the guilty groan, 
 
 Are angels from Thy awful throne. 
 
 Each mercy sent when sorrows lower, 
 
 Each blessing of the winged hour, 
 
 All we enjoy and all we love, 
 
 Bring with them lessons from above. 
 
 Nor thus content, Thy gracious hand, 
 
 From midst the children of the land, 
 
 Hath raised, to stand before our race, • 
 
 Thy living messengers of grace. 
 
 We thank Thee that so clear a ray 
 Shines on Thy straight, Thy chosen way, 
 
 And pray that passion, sloth, or pride, 
 
 May never lure our steps aside. —Bryant. 
 
 1506. GOD. Morning Hymn to 
 
 IN THE VALE OF CHAMOUNIX. 
 
 Awake, my soul! not only passive praise 
 Thou owest! not alone these swelling tears, 
 
 Mute thanks and secret ecstasy ! Awake, 
 
 Voice of sweet song ! Awake, my heart, awake ! 
 Green vales and icy cliffs, all join my hymn. 
 
 Thou first and chief, sole sovereign of the vale ! 
 
 Oh, struggling with the darkness all night long, 
 
 And all night visited by troops of stars. 
 
 Or when they climb the sky, or when they sink ; 
 Companion of the morning-star at dawn— 
 
 Thyself earth’s rosy star, and of the dawn 
 Co-herald, wake ; oh wake, and utter praise ! 
 
 Ye ice-falls, ye that from the mountain’s brow, 
 Adown enormous ravines slope amain— 
 
 Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty voice, 
 
 And stopp’d at once, amidst their maddest plunge, 
 Motionless torrents ! Silent cataracts ! 
 
 Who made you glorious as the gates of heaven. 
 Beneath the keen full moon ? Who bade the sun 
 Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living 
 flowers 
 
 Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet ? 
 
 God, let the torrents, like a shout of nations, 
 
 Answer; and let the ice-plains echo—God ! 
 
 God, sing ye meadow streams, with gladsome voice ! 
 Ye pine-groves, with your soft and soul-like sounds ! 
 And they, too, have a voice, yon piles of snow, 
 
 And in their perilous fall shall thunder—God ! 
 
 1 hou, too, hoar mount, with thy sky-pointing peaks, 
 Oft from whose feet the avalanche, unheard, 
 
 Shoots downward, glittering through the pure serene 
 Into the depth of clouds that veil thy breast, 
 
 Thou too, again, stupendous mountain, thou, 
 
 That as I raise my head, awhile bow’d down 
 In adoration, upward from thy base 
 Slow travelling with dim eyes, suffused with tears, 
 Solemnly seemest, like a vapoury cloud, 
 
 To rise before me. Rise, oh, ever rise ; 
 
 Rise like a cloud of incense from the earth ; 
 
 Thou kingly spirit throned among the hills, 
 
 Thou dread ambassador from earth to heaven, 
 
 Great hierarch ! tell there the silent sky. 
 
 And tell the stars, and tell the rising sun, 
 
 Earth, with her thousand voices, praises God ! 
 
 Coleridge. 
 
 I 5 ° 7 - GOD. Name of 
 
 Thy great name, 
 
 In all its awful brevity, doth bless 
 The tongue that uses it; for me, 
 
 I ask no higher office than to fling 
 My spirit at Thy feet, and cry Thy name, 
 
 God ! through eternity.— Bailey. 
 
 1508. GOD. Ode to 
 
 O Thou eternal One ! whose presence bright 
 All space doth occupy, all motion guide : 
 Unchanged through time’s all-devastating flight; 
 
 Thou only God! There is no God beside! 
 
 Being above all beings! Mighty One! 
 
 Whom none can comprehend and none explore; 
 
GOD 
 
 296 
 
 GOD 
 
 Who fill’st existence with Thyself alone : 
 
 Embracing all—supporting—ruling o’er— 
 
 Being whom we call God—and know no more ! 
 
 In its sublime research, philosophy 
 
 May measure out the ocean-deep—may count 
 The sands or the sun’s rays—but, God ! for Thee 
 There is no weight nor measure : none can mount 
 Up to Thy mysteries. Reason’s brightest spark, 
 Though kindled by Thy light, in vain would try 
 To trace Thy counsels, infinite and dark : 
 
 And thought is lost ere thought can soar so high, 
 Even like past moments in eternity. 
 
 Thou from primeval nothingness didst call 
 First chaos, then existence : Lord! on Thee 
 Eternity had its foundation ; all 
 
 Sprung forth from Thee—of light, joy, harmony, 
 Sole origin : all life, all beauty Thine. 
 
 Thy word created all, and doth create ; 
 
 Thy splendour fills all space with rays Divine. 
 
 Thou art, and wert, and shalt be ! Glorious ! Great! 
 Light-giving, life-sustaining Potentate! 
 
 Thy chains the unmeasured universe surround, 
 Upheld by Thee, by Thee inspired with breath ! 
 Thou the beginning with the end hast bound, 
 
 And beautifully mingled life and death! 
 
 As sparks mount upwards from the fiery blaze, 
 
 So suns are born, so worlds spring forth from 
 Thee: 
 
 And as the spangles in the sunny rays 
 
 Shine round the silver snow, the pageantry 
 Of heaven’s bright army glitters in Thy praise. 
 
 A million torches lighted by Thy hand 
 
 Wander unwearied through the blue abyss; 
 
 They own Thy power, accomplish Thy command, 
 All gay with life, all eloquent with bliss. 
 
 What shall we call them? Piles of crystal light— 
 
 A glorious company of golden streams— 
 
 Lamps of celestial ether burning bright— 
 
 Suns lighting systems with their joyous beams ? 
 But Thou to these art as the noon to night. 
 
 Yes ! as a drop of water in the sea, 
 
 All this magnificence in Thee is lost: 
 
 What are ten thousand worlds compared to Thee ? 
 
 And what am I then ? Heaven’s unnumber’d host, 
 Though multiplied by myriads, and array’d 
 In all the glory of sublimest thought, 
 
 Is but an atom in the balance, weigh’d 
 Against Thy greatness, is a cipher brought 
 Against infinity! Oh, what am I then? Nought! 
 
 Nought! yet the effluence of Thy light Divine, 
 Pervading worlds, hath reach’d my bosom too ; 
 
 Yes ! in my spirit doth Thy spirit shine, 
 
 As shines the sunbeam in a drop of dew. 
 
 Nought! yet I live, and on hope’s pinions fly 
 Eager towards Thy presence ; for in Thee 
 I live, and breathe, and dwell; aspiring high, 
 
 Even to the throne of Thy Divinity. 
 
 I am, O God ! and surely Thoti must be ! 
 
 Thou art ! directing, guiding all, Thou art! 
 
 Direct my understanding, then, to Thee ; 
 
 Control my spirit, guide my wandering heart: 
 
 Though but an atom ’midst immensity, 
 
 Still I am something, fashion’d by Thy hand ! 
 
 I hold a middle rank ’twixt heaven and earth, 
 
 On the last verge of mortal being stand, 
 
 Close to the realms where angels have their birth, 
 Just on the boundaries of the spirit-land ! 
 
 The chain of being is complete in me; 
 
 In me is matter’s last gradation lost, 
 
 And the next step is spirit—Deity ! 
 
 I can command the lightning, and am dust! 
 
 A monarch, and a slave ; a worm, a god ! 
 
 Whence came I here ? and how so marvellously 
 Constructed and conceived ? unknown ! this clod 
 Lives surely through some higher energy ; 
 
 For from itself alone it could not be ! 
 
 Creator, yes ! Thy wisdom and Thy word 
 Created me ! Thou source of life and good ! 
 
 Thou spirit of my spirit, and my Lord ! 
 
 Thy light, Thy love, in their bright plenitude 
 Fill’d me with an immortal soul, to spring 
 Over the abyss of death, and bade it wear 
 The garments of eternal day, and wing 
 
 Its heavenly flight beyond this little sphere, 
 
 Even to its source—to Thee—its Author there. 
 
 O thoughts ineffable ! O visions blest! 
 
 Though worthless our conceptions all of Thee, 
 Yet shall Thy shadow’d image fill our breast, 
 
 And waft its homage to Thy Deity. 
 
 God ! thus alone my lonely thoughts can soar ; 
 
 Thus seek Thy presence, Being wise and good ! 
 ’Midst Thy vast works admire, obey, adore ; 
 
 And when the tongue is eloquent no more, 
 
 The soul shall speak in tears of gratitude. 
 
 Derzhavin , tr. by Bowring. 
 
 1509. GOD. Omnipotence of 
 
 The Lord our God is clothed with might, 
 
 The winds obey His will; 
 
 He speaks, and in His heavenly height 
 The rolling sun stands still. 
 
 Rebel, ye waves, and o’er the land 
 With threat’ning aspect roar : 
 
GOD 
 
 297 
 
 GOD 
 
 The Lord uplifts His awful hand, 
 
 And chains you to the shore. 
 
 Ye winds of night, your force combine : 
 
 Without His high behest, 
 
 Ye shall not, in the mountain-pine, 
 
 Disturb the sparrow’s nest. 
 
 His voice sublime is heard afar; 
 
 In distant peals it dies ; 
 
 He yokes the whirlwind to His car, 
 
 And sweeps the howling skies. 
 
 Ye nations, bend—in reverence bend ; 
 
 Ye monarchs, wait His nod. 
 
 And bid the choral song ascend 
 
 To celebrate your God. —H. K. White. 
 
 1510. GOD. Omnipresence of 
 
 To whom thus Michael with regard benign: 
 
 * Adam ! thou know’st heaven His, and all the earth, 
 Not this rock only ; His omnipresence fills 
 Land, sea, and air, and every kind that lives, 
 Fomented by His virtual power, and warm’d ; 
 
 All the earth He gave thee to possess and rule, 
 
 No despicable gift! surmise not then 
 
 His presence to these narrow bounds confined, 
 
 Of Paradise, or Eden: this had been 
 
 Perhaps thy capital seat; from whence had spread 
 
 All generations, and had hither come 
 
 From all ends of the earth, to celebrate 
 
 And reverence thee, their great progenitor. 
 
 But this pre-eminence thou hast lost, brought down 
 To dwell on even ground now with thy sons. 
 
 Yet doubt not but in valley and in plain, 
 
 God is, as here, and will be found alike 
 Present; and of His presence many a sign 
 Still following thee, still compassing thee round 
 With goodness and parental love ; His face 
 Express, and of His steps the track divine.’— Milton. 
 
 15 1 1* GOD: our life and light. 
 
 Thou art, O God, the life and light 
 Of all this wondrous world we see ; 
 
 Its glow by day, its smile by night, 
 
 Are but reflections caught from Thee. 
 
 Where’er we turn, Thy glories shine, 
 
 And all things fair and bright are Thine. 
 
 When day, with farewell beam, delays 
 Among the opening clouds of even, 
 
 And we can almost think we gaze 
 Through golden vistas into heaven,— 
 
 Those hues, that mark the sun’s decline 
 So soft, so radiant, Lord, are Thine. 
 
 When night, with wings of starry gloom, 
 O’ershadows all the earth and skies, 
 
 Like some dark, beauteous bird, whose plume 
 Is sparkling with unnumber’d eyes,— 
 
 That sacred gloom, those fires divine, 
 
 So grand, so countless, Lord, are Thine. 
 
 When youthful Spring around us breathes, 
 
 Thy spirit warms her fragrant sigh ; 
 
 And eveiy flower the Summer wreathes 
 Is bom beneath that kindling eye. 
 
 Where’er we turn, Thy glories shine, 
 
 And all things fair and bright are Thine.— Moore. 
 
 1512. GOD. Praise to 
 
 Praise, my soul, the King of heaven ; 
 
 To His feet thy tribute bring ; 
 
 Ransom’d, heal’d, restored, forgiven, 
 
 Who like thee His praise should sing ? 
 
 Praise Him ! praise Him ! 
 
 Praise the everlasting King ! 
 
 Praise Him for His grace and favour 
 To our fathers in distress ; 
 
 Praise Him, still the same for ever, 
 
 Slow to chide, and swift to bless : 
 
 Praise Him ! praise Him ! 
 
 Glorious in His faithfulness ! 
 
 Father-like He tends and spares us ; 
 
 Well our feeble frame He knows ; 
 
 In His hands He gently bears us, 
 
 Rescues us from all our foes : 
 
 Praise Him ! praise Him ! 
 
 Widely as His mercy flows ! 
 
 Angels, help us to adore Him, 
 
 Ye behold Him face to face ; 
 
 Sun and moon, bow down before Him ; 
 
 Dwellers all in time and space. 
 
 Praise Him ! praise Him ! 
 
 Praise with us the God of grace \—Lyte. 
 
 15 r 3 - GOD : reveals Plimself only to the humble. 
 
 To critic cold and sly God never yet appear’d ; 
 
 No riddle ever was by logic solved and clear’d : 
 
 It takes a pure and humble heart the Lord to see, 
 And free-wing’d wit to soar through mystery. 
 
 Oriental, tr. by Alger. 
 
 1514. GOD: seen in little things. 
 
 Thou, Lord, who rear’st the mountain’s height, 
 And mak’st the cliff with sunshine bright, 
 
 Oh grant that I may own Thy hand 
 No less in every grain of sand ! 
 
GOD 
 
 298 
 
 GOD 
 
 In all the immense, the stninge, the old, 
 
 Thy presence careless men behold ; 
 
 In all the little, weak, and mean, 
 
 By faith be Thou as clearly seen. 
 
 Teach Thou that not a leaf can grow 
 Till life from Thee within it flow ; 
 
 That not a speck of dust can be, 
 
 O Fount of Being ! save by Thee.— Sterling. 
 
 1515. GOD. Submission to 
 
 Repine not, nor reply ; 
 
 View not what Heaven ordains with reason’s eye ; 
 Too bright the object is, the distance is too high. 
 The man who would resolve the work of fate, 
 
 May limit number and make crooked straight: 
 Stop thy inquiry then and curb thy sense, 
 
 Nor let dust argue with omnipotence.— Prior. 
 
 1516. GOD. Thanks due to 
 
 To th’ infinitely Good we owe 
 Immortal thanks ; and His admonishment 
 Receive, with solemn purpose to observe 
 Immutably His sovereign will, the end 
 Of what we are.— Milton. 
 
 1517. GOD : the Author and End of our being. 
 
 O Thou, whose power o’er moving worlds presides, 
 Whose voice created and whose wisdom guides, 
 
 On darkling man in pure effulgence shine. 
 
 And cheer the clouded mind with light Divine ! 
 
 ’Tis Thine alone to calm the pious breast, 
 
 With silent confidence, and holy rest; 
 
 From Thee, great God ! we spring—to Thee we 
 tend, 
 
 Path, Motive, Guide, Original, and End. 
 
 Johnson. 
 
 1518. GOD: the Eternal Father. 
 
 Father ! the sweetest, dearest name 
 That men or angels know ! 
 
 Fountain of Life, that had no fount 
 From which itself could flow ! 
 
 Thou comest not, Thou goest not; 
 
 Thou wert not, wilt not be ; 
 
 Eternity is but a thought 
 By which we think of Thee. 
 
 Lost in Thy greatness, Lord! I live, 
 
 As in some gorgeous maze ; 
 
 Thy sea of unbeginning light 
 Blinds me, and yet I gaze. 
 
 Thou feign’st to be remote, and speak’st 
 As if from far above, 
 
 That fear may make more bold with Thee, 
 
 And be beguiled to love. 
 
 On earth Thou hidest, not to scare 
 Thy children with Thy light; 
 
 Thou showest us Thy face in heaven, 
 
 When we can bear the sight.— Faber. 
 
 1519. GOD: the soul of Nature. 
 
 All are but parts of one stupendous whole, 
 
 Whose body Nature is, and God the soul; 
 
 That changed through all, and yet in all the same, 
 Great in the earth as in th’ ethereal frame ; 
 
 Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze, 
 
 Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees ; 
 Lives through all life, extends through all extent. 
 Spreads undivided, operates unspent; 
 
 Breathes in our soul, informs our mortal part, 
 
 As full, as perfect, in a hair as heart; 
 
 As full, as perfect, in vile man that mourns, 
 
 As the rapt seraph that adores and burns: 
 
 To Him no high, no low, no great, no small; 
 
 He fills, He bounds, connects, and equals all! 
 
 Pope. 
 
 1520. GOD : the soul’s supreme joy. 
 
 But, oh! thou bounteous Giver of all good, 
 
 Thou art, of all Thy gifts, Thyself the crown! 
 Give what Thou canst, without Thee we are poor. 
 And with Thee rich, take what Thou wilt away 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 Lord of earth ! Thy bounteous hand 
 Well this glorious frame hath plann’d : 
 Woods that wave, and hills that tower, 
 
 Ocean rolling in his power, 
 
 All that strikes the gaze unsought, 
 
 All that charms the lonely thought; 
 Friendship, gem transcending price ; 
 
 Love, a flower of Paradise: 
 
 Yet, amid this scene so fair, 
 
 Should I cease Thy smile to share, 
 
 What were all its joys to me! 
 
 Whom have I in heaven but Thee! 
 
 Lord of heaven ! beyond our sight 
 Rolls a world of purer light; 
 
 There, in Love’s unclouded reign, 
 
 Parted hands shall join again ; 
 
 Martyrs there, and prophets high, 
 
 Blaze, a glorious company ; 
 
 While immortal music rings 
 From unnumber’d seraph-strings: 
 
GOD 
 
 299 
 
 GOD 
 
 Oh, that scene is passing fair! 
 
 Yet should’st Thou be absent there, 
 
 What were all its joys to me! 
 
 Whom have I in heaven but Thee! 
 
 Lord of earth and heaven ! my breast 
 Seeks in Thee its only rest! 
 
 I was lost: Thy accents mild 
 Homeward lured Thy wandering child. 
 
 I was blind: Thy healing ray 
 Charm’d the long eclipse away. 
 
 Source of every joy I know, 
 
 Solace of my every woe ; 
 
 Yet should once Thy smile Divine 
 Cease upon my soul to shine, 
 
 What were heaven or earth to me ! 
 
 Whom have I in heaven but Thee \—Grant. 
 
 21. GOD: the source of all blessedness. 
 
 My God, to Thee belong 
 Incense of praise and hallow’d song ; 
 
 To Thee be all the glory given 
 Of all my mercies under heaven ; 
 
 From Thee my daily bread and health, 
 Each comfort, all my spirit’s wealth, 
 
 Have been derived ;—my sins alone, 
 
 And errings, I can call mine own .-Walker 
 
 My springs are all in Thee, my God, 
 
 Those waters fresh and free 
 Rise from thy love’s unfailing depths, 
 
 And ever rise for me. 
 
 My springs are all in Thee, my God ; 
 
 Why should I faint or fear, 
 
 While the best source of every good, 
 Himself, is ever near ? 
 
 My springs are all in Thee, my God, 
 Thou bidd’st me freely take 
 The living, soul-reviving streams, 
 
 My deepest thirst to slake. 
 
 My springs are all in Thee, my God ; 
 
 Earth’s pleasures, honours, gold, 
 
 Are broken cisterns at the best, 
 
 They can no water hold. 
 
 My springs are all in Thee, my God . 
 
 Through Jesus to me still 
 Peace, joy, and comfort ceaseless flow. 
 The cure of every ill. 
 
 My springs are all in Thee, my God ; 
 
 Oh! never let me roam 
 Afar from Thee, my only good, 
 
 So fully blest at home. 
 
 My springs are all in Thee, my God, 
 
 And ever shall remain, 
 
 Till life’s best springs I drink above, 
 
 And never thirst again.—#. THeywood. 
 
 1523. GOD. Thought of 
 I look to Thee in every need, and never look in 
 
 I feel Thy strong and tender love, and all is "ell 
 again : 
 
 The thought of Thee is mightier far 
 Than sin and pain and sorrow are. 
 
 Discouraged in the work of life, dishearten’d by its 
 
 Shamed^ its failures or its fears, I sink beside the 
 road: 
 
 But let me only think of Thee, 
 
 And then new heart springs up in me. 
 
 Thy calmness bends serene above, my restlessness to 
 
 still * 
 
 Around me flows Thy quickening life, to nerve tny 
 faltering will: 
 
 Thy presence fills my solitude ; 
 
 Thy providence turns all to good. 
 
 1524. GOD : waiting. 
 
 Dread is the leisure up above 
 
 The while He sits whose name is love, 
 
 And waits, as Noah did for the dove, 
 
 To wit if she would fly to him. 
 
 1522. GOD : the unsearchable Name. 
 
 < When I attempt to give the Power which I see manifested 
 in the universe an objective form, personal or otherw.se, U sl.ps 
 away from me, declining all intellectual mampulat.on I dare 
 I not use the pronoun “ He” regarding it; 1 dare not call 
 ! “Mind-” I refuse to call it even a “Cause.’ Its mystery 
 overshadows me.’-PaOF. Tyndall, in ‘ Fortnightly Review 
 for December, 1875. 
 
 Oh, proud Philosopher, so seeming-meek . . 
 
 Who on the midnight heavens dost gaze with awe, 
 And own the mystic Force behind the Law, 
 Confessing that thy finitude is weak 
 To gauge infinity, when thou wouldst seek 
 With eyes that are but mortal eyes, to draw 
 What never save immortal vision saw, 
 
 Or utter what no human lips can speak. 
 
 Thou < dare not call it “ He”?’ Then dare not 
 If, underneath the mystery, thou art awed : 
 
 We talk of man thus : ‘he’ who treads the sod. 
 Thou wilt not name it ‘ Mind,’ or • Cause ? Too 
 
 low 
 
 These earth-words comprehensible '. Nay, go 
 
 Back to primordial truth, and call it God ! 
 
 TUnrcrnre.t T. PtCStOYl . 
 
GOD 
 
 GOD 
 
 300 
 
 He waits for us, while, houseless things, 
 
 We beat about with bruised wings 
 On the dark floods and water-springs, 
 
 The ruin’d world, the desolate sea; 
 
 With open windows from the prime, 
 
 All night, all day, He waits sublime, 
 
 Until the fulness of the time 
 
 Decreed from His eternity .—fean Ingelow. 
 
 1525. GOD ? What is 
 
 W HAT art Thou, God ? my soul inquires, 
 
 What is Thy form, how looks Thy face ? 
 
 Art but an Essence filling space, 
 
 Before whose power all power retires? 
 
 Hast any form, hast any face ? 
 
 Thou’rt here, Thou’rt there, Thou’rt everywhere,— 
 Mine ears are strain’d Thy voice to hear,— 
 
 Mine aching eyes see not Thy place. 
 
 My weak hands vainly search for Thee : 
 
 I know Thou art, I see Thy works, 
 
 Which show behind some Power lurks ; 
 
 But whence, or how, I cannot see. 
 
 Can man when robed in this dull clay 
 Love that which merely Essence is, 
 
 And has no form, no shape like his ? 
 
 But yet he feels it day by day. 
 
 Can I be said to love a man 
 Who is not, though He was, like me. 
 
 But now has gone to dwell with Thee, 
 
 To live of life a larger plan ? 
 
 O God, and do I love Thee now? 
 
 Thou art so great, so far above— 
 
 Is this I feel within me love? 
 
 I love not so aught here below. 
 
 I study perfect human forms, 
 
 But fancy none as like to Thine; 
 
 Imagination draws no line 
 More like to Thee than to the worms. 
 
 My mind surmounts this little -world 
 And pierces through its circling dome, 
 
 To view Thy features, find Thy home, 
 
 I wander oft through vapours curl’d. 
 
 Exhausted soon my spirit falls, 
 
 And sinks once more to present cares— 
 
 To duties here, how yon one fares, 
 
 Which all my soul’s attention calls. 
 
 And soon within, yet from above, 
 
 A gentle voice dispels my fear : 
 
 ‘No matter what my form, or where, 
 
 Remember, seeker, “God is love.’” 
 
 1526. GOD. Works of 
 
 For wonderful indeed are all His works, 
 
 Pleasant to know, and worthiest to be all 
 Had in remembrance always with delight; 
 
 But what created mind can comprehend 
 
 Their number, or the wisdom infinite 
 
 That brought them forth, but hid their causes deep. 
 
 • Milton. 
 
 In human works, though labour’d on with pain, 
 
 A thousand movements scarce one purpose gain ; 
 In God’s, one single can its ends produce, 
 
 Yet serves to second too some other use.— Pope. 
 
 And yet were every falt’ring tongue of man, 
 Almighty Father ! silent in Thy praise, 
 
 Thy works themselves would raise a general voice, 
 Even in the depth of solitary woods, 
 
 By human foot untrod, proclaim Thy power, 
 
 And to the choir celestial Thee resound, 
 
 The eternal cause, support, and end of all! 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 Let no presuming impious railer tax 
 Creative wisdom as if aught was form’d 
 In vain, or not for admirable ends. 
 
 Shall little haughty ignorance pronounce 
 His works unwise of which the smallest part 
 Exceeds the narrow vision of his mind ? 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 In the vast, and the minute, we see 
 The unambitious footsteps of the God 
 Who gives its lustre to an insect’s wing, 
 
 And wheels His throne upon the rolling worlds. 
 
 Cowper . 
 
 What prodigies can power Divine perform 
 More grand than it produces year by year, 
 
 And all in sight of inattentive man ? 
 
 Familiar with th’ effect, we slight the cause, 
 And in the constancy of nature’s course. 
 
 The regular return of genial months, 
 
 And renovation of a faded world, 
 
 See nought to wonder at.— Cowper. 
 
 The heavens are a point from the pen of His per¬ 
 fection ; 
 
 The world is a rosebud from the bower of His beauty; 
 The sun is a spark from the light of His wisdom ; 
 And the sky a bubble on the sea of His power. 
 
 His beauty is free from stain of sin, 
 
 Hidden in a veil of thick darkness. 
 
 He form’d mirrors of the atoms of the world, 
 
 And He cast a reflection from His own face on 
 every atom ! 
 
 To thy clear-seeing eye whatsoever is fair. 
 
 When thou regardest it aright, is a reflection from 
 His face.— Jami , from the Persian. 
 
GODLINESS 
 
 3 QI 
 
 GODLINESS 
 
 There is no God,—the fool in secret said ; 
 
 There is no God that rules on earth or sky. 
 
 Tear off the band that folds the wretched head, 
 
 That God may burst upon his faithless eye. 
 
 Is there no God ?—the stars in myriads spread, 
 
 If he look up, the blasphemy deny, 
 
 Whilst his own features, in the mirror read, 
 
 Reflect the image of Divinity. 
 
 Is there no God ?—the silver stream that flows, 
 
 The air he breathes, the ground he treads, the trees, 
 The flowers, the grass, the sands, each wind that 
 blows, 
 
 All speak of God ; throughout one voice agrees. 
 
 And eloquent His dread existence shows : 
 
 Blind to thyself, ah ! see Him, fool, in these. 
 
 1 
 
 1527. GODLINESS. Advantage of 
 
 About the joys and pleasures of the world, 
 
 This question was not seldom in debate— 
 
 Whether the righteous man, or sinner, had 
 The greatest share, and relish’d them the most? 
 Truth gives the answer thus, gives it distinct, 
 
 Nor needs to reason long : The righteous man. 
 
 For what was he denied of earthly growth, 
 
 Worthy the name of good? Truth answers—Nought. 
 Had he not appetites, and sense, and will? 
 
 Might he not eat, if Providence allow’d, 
 
 The finest of the wheat ? Might he not drink 
 The choicest wine ? True, he was temperate ; 
 
 But then was temperance a foe to peace ? 
 
 Might he not rise, and clothe himself in gold ? 
 Ascend, and stand in palaces of kings ? 
 
 True, he was honest still, and charitable : 
 
 Were then these virtues foes to human peace ? 
 
 Might he not do exploits, and gain a name ? 
 
 Most true, he trod not down a fellow’s right, 
 
 Nor walk’d up to a throne on skulls of men ; 
 
 Were justice, then, and mercy, foes to peace ? 
 
 Had he not friendships, loves, and smiles, and hopes ? 
 Sat not around his table sons and daughters? 
 
 Was not his ear with music pleased ? his eye 
 With light ? his nostrils with perfumes ? his lips 
 With pleasant relishes ? grew not his herds ? 
 
 Fell not the rain upon his meadows ? reap’d 
 He not his harvests? and did not his heart 
 Revel at will through all the charities 
 And sympathies of nature, unconfined ? 
 
 And were not these all sweeten’d and sanctified 
 By dews of holiness shed from above ? 
 
 Might he not walk through Fancy’s airy halls ? 
 Might he not History’s ample page survey ? 
 
 Might he not, finally, explore the depths 
 Of mental, moral, natural, divine ? 
 
 But why enumerate thus ? One word enough. 
 
 There was no joy in all created things, 
 
 No drop of sweet, that turn’d not in the end 
 To sour, of which the righteous man did not 
 Partake—partake, invited by the voice 
 Of God, his Father’s voice—who gave him all 
 His heart’s desire. And o’er the sinner, still, 
 
 The Christian had this one advantage more : 
 
 That when his earthly pleasures fail’d, and fail 
 They always did to every soul of man, 
 
 He sent his hopes on high, look d up, and reach d 
 i His sickle forth, and reap’d the fields of heaven, 
 
 I And pluck’d the clusters from the vines of God. 
 
 Pollok. 
 
 1528. GODLINESS. Example of 
 
 Some angel guide my pencil, while I draw, 
 
 What nothing less than angel can exceed, 
 
 A man on earth devoted to the skies ; 
 
 Like ships in sea, while in, above the world. 
 
 With aspect mild, and elevated eye, 
 
 Behold him seated in a mount serene, 
 
 Above the fogs of sense, and passion’s storm ! 
 
 All the black cares and tumults of this life. 
 
 Like harmless thunders breaking at his feet, 
 
 Excite his pity, not impair his peace. 
 
 Earth’s genuine sons, the sceptred and the slave, 
 
 (A mingled mob ! a wandering herd !) he sees 
 Bewilder’d in the vale—in all unlike : 
 
 His full reverse in all! What higher praise ? 
 
 What stronger demonstration of the right ? 
 
 The present all their care,—the future, his. 
 
 When public welfare calls, or private want, 
 
 They give to fame,—his bounty he conceals. 
 
 Their virtues varnish nature,—his exalt. 
 
 Mankind’s esteem they court; and he, his own. 
 Theirs, the wild chase of false felicities ; 
 
 His, the composed possession of the true. 
 
 Alike, throughout, is his consistent peace— 
 
 All of one colour, and an even thread; 
 
 While parti-coloured shreds of happiness, 
 
 With hideous gaps between, patch up for them 
 A madman’s robe,—each puff of fortune blows 
 The tatters by, and shows their nakedness. 
 
 He sees with other eyes than theirs. — Wher 
 
 they 
 
 Behold a sun, he spies a Deity ; 
 
 What makes them only smile, makes him adore ; 
 Where they see mountains, he but atoms sees 
 An empire, in his balance, weighs a grain. 
 
 They things terrestrial worship as divine ; 
 
 His hopes immortal blow them by, as dust 
 That dims his sight, and shortens his survey, 
 
 Which longs, in infinite, to lose all bound. 
 
 Young. 
 
GODSENDS 
 
 302 
 
 GOLD 
 
 1529. GODSENDS. 
 
 Straight from the hand of God comes many a gift, 
 Fraught with healing and with consolation 
 For a world of toil and tribulation ; 
 
 And yet from which we blindly shrink and shift, 
 
 As from a burden onerous to lift. 
 
 Work itself, hard, drudging occupation, 
 
 Comes in shape of blessed dispensation 
 To those who wisely can perceive the drift 
 Of such a boon t’ assuage the pangs of mind, 
 Sadness, suspense, anxiety, or worse, 
 
 Rankle from wounding words and looks unkind, 
 The desolation of friends’ eyes averse, 
 
 Nay, e’en the anguish of a recent loss, 
 
 Akin to what was felt beneath the Cross. 
 
 1530. GOLD. Bribery of 
 
 Stronger than thunder’s winged force. 
 All-powerful gold can spread its course. 
 Through watchful guards its passage make. 
 
 And loves through solid walls to break : 
 
 From gold the overwhelming woes 
 That crush’d the Grecian augur rose : 
 
 Philip with gold through cities broke. 
 
 And rival monarchs felt his yoke. 
 
 Horace, tr. by Martin. 
 
 Trade it may help, society extend, 
 
 But lures the pirate, and corrupts the friend ; 
 
 It raises armies in a nation’s aid, 
 
 But bribes a senate, and a land’s betray’d. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 1531. GOLD : a curse. 
 
 Gold ! Gold ! in all ages the curse of mankind, 
 
 Thy fetters are forged for the soul and the mind; 
 
 The limbs may be free as the wings of a bird, 
 
 And the mind be the slave of a look or a word. 
 
 To gain thee, men barter eternity’s crown, 
 
 Yield honour, affection, and lasting renown. 
 
 Benjamin. 
 
 O cursed love of gold ; when for thy sake 
 The fool throws up his interest in both worlds, 
 
 First starved in this, then damn’d in that to come! 
 
 Blair. 
 
 1532. GOLD: a god. 
 
 Gold is the greatest god; though yet we see 
 No temples raised to Money’s majesty. 
 
 No altars fuming to her power divine, 
 
 Such as to Valour, Peace, and Virtue shine, 
 
 And Faith and Concord. 
 
 Juvenal , tr. by Dryden. 
 
 Gold ! many hunted, sweat, and bled for Gold; 
 Waked all the night, and labour’d all the day. 
 
 And what was this allurement ? dost thou ask. 
 
 A dust dug from the bowels of the earth, 
 
 Which, being cast into the fire, came out 
 A shining thing that fools admired, and call’d 
 A god ; and in devout and humble plight 
 Before it kneel’d, the greater to the less; 
 
 And on its altar sacrificed ease, peace. 
 
 Truth, faith, integrity, good conscience, friends, 
 Love, charity, benevolence, and all 
 The sweet and tender sympathies of life ; 
 
 And, to complete the horrid murderous rite, 
 
 And signalize their folly, offer’d up 
 Their souls and an eternity of bliss, 
 
 To gain them—what ? an hour of dreaming joy, 
 
 A feverish hour that hasted to be done, 
 
 And ended in the bitterness of woe.— Pollok. 
 
 That universal idol, Gold, 
 
 In homage all unites ; 
 
 Without a temple, ’tis adored, 
 
 And has no hypocrites. 
 
 Nay, more, Gold’s warmest devotees 
 Strive most to hide their zeal; 
 
 And he that loves this idol most. 
 
 Would most that love conceal.— Colton . 
 
 1 533 - GOLD. Description of 
 
 Gold ! gold ! gold ! gold! 
 
 Bright and yellow, hard and cold. 
 
 Molten, graven, hammer’d, and roll’d ; 
 
 Heavy to get, and light to hold ; 
 
 Hoarded, barter’d, bought, and sold, 
 
 Stolen, borrow’d, squander’d, doled ; 
 
 Spurn’d by the young, but hugg’d by the old 
 To the very verge of the churchyard mould ; 
 
 Price of many a crime untold. 
 
 Gold! gold ! gold ! gold! 
 
 Good or bad a thousand-fold ! 
 
 How widely its agencies vary— 
 
 To save—to ruin—to curse—to bless, 
 
 As even its minted coins express, 
 
 Now stamp’d with the image of good Queen Bess* 
 And now of a Bloody Mary.— Hood. 
 
 1534. GOLD: harmless. 
 
 Because its blessings are abused, 
 
 Must gold be censured, cursed, accused? 
 
 Even virtue’s self by knaves is made 
 A cloak to carry on the trade.— Gay. 
 
 The deep damnation of the crowd, O Gold ! 
 Heapeth reproach upon thy innocent dust! 
 
 ‘ Evil’s prolific root,’—* Bribe of the just, — 
 
GOLD 
 
 303 
 
 GOOD 
 
 ‘ Strength of the false and cruel,’—* God, extoll’d 
 By priests, by whom Heaven’s pardoning grace is 
 sold,’— 
 
 Such are thy titles ! while, with covetous lust, 
 Men hoard the very ore they have befoul’d 
 With the tongue’s obloquy of wordy rust.— 
 
 Yet thou art sinless, Gold ! and bright, and bland, 
 And fit for glorious offices ; and blest, 
 
 When put to uses holy. Oh, be sure 
 The curse is not on thee ; for ’tis the hand 
 
 That toucheth thee doth thee with stains invest, 
 Or maketh thee beneficent and pure ! 
 
 Calder Campbell. 
 
 1 535. GOLD. Poison of 
 
 There is thy gold ; worse poison to men’s souls, 
 Doing more murders in this loathsome world, 
 
 Than these poor compounds that thou may’st not 
 sell: 
 
 I sell thee poison, thou hast sold me none. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Three hungry travellers found a bag of gold : 
 
 One ran into the town where bread was sold. 
 
 He thought, I will poison the bread I buy, 
 
 And seize the treasure when my comrades die. 
 
 But they too thought, when back his feet have hied, 
 We will destroy him, and the gold divide. 
 
 They kill’d him, and, partaking of the bread, 
 
 In a few moments all were lying dead. 
 
 O World ! behold what ill thy goods have done: 
 Thy gold thus poison’d two, and murder’d one ! 
 
 Oriental. 
 
 1536. GOLD. Power of 
 
 Why this 
 
 Will lug your priests and servants from your sides: 
 Pluck stout men’s pillows from below their heads : 
 This yellow slave 
 
 Will knit and break religions ; bless the accursed ; 
 Make the hoar leprosy adored ; place thieves, 
 
 And give them title, knee, and approbation, 
 
 With senators on the bench. 
 
 For this, the foolish, over-careful fathers 
 Have broke their sleep with thoughts, their brains 
 with care, 
 
 Their bones with industry.— Shakespeare. 
 
 ’Tis gold 
 
 Which makes the true man kill’d, and saves the 
 thief; 
 
 Nay, sometimes, hangs both thief and true man : 
 what 
 
 Can it not do, and undo?— Shakespeare. 
 
 Plate sin with gold, 
 
 And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks : 
 
 Arm it in rags, a pigmy’s straw doth pierce it. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 1537. GOLD. Powerlessness of 
 
 Can gold calm passion, or make reason shine ? 
 Can we dig peace, or wisdom, from the mine ? 
 Wisdom to gold prefer : for ’tis much less 
 To make our fortune than our happiness.— Young. 
 
 To purchase heaven has gold the power ? 
 
 Can gold remove the mortal hour ? 
 
 In life can love be bought with gold ? 
 
 Are friendship’s pleasures to be sold ? 
 
 No ! all that’s worth a wish—a thought, 
 
 Fair virtue gives unbribed, unbought. 
 
 Cease then on trash thy hopes to bind, 
 
 Let nobler views engage the mind.— Dr yohnson . 
 
 1538. GOLD. Want of 
 
 Want sense, and the world will o’erlook it; 
 
 Want feeling—’twill find some excuse ; 
 
 But if the world knows you want money, 
 
 You’re certain to get its abuse. 
 
 The wisest advice in existence, 
 
 Is ne’er on its kindness to call; 
 
 The best way to get its assistance, 
 
 Is—show you don’t need it at all ! 
 
 ‘ Man’s the Gold ! ’ said the bard, with a feeling 
 That still his discretion outran ; 
 
 For each day of our life is revealing 
 
 The bard should have said, ‘ Gold is Man.’ 
 
 Gold is genius, and greatness, and merit ; 
 
 Want gold—you want all that gold brings ! 
 
 But if fortune you only inherit, 
 
 The world will excuse other things. 
 
 Charles Szvaitt. 
 
 1539. GOOD. Doing 
 
 But I remember now 
 
 I’m in this earthly world, where to do harm 
 Is often laudable ; to do good, sometime 
 Accounted dangerous folly.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Great minds, like Heaven, are pleased in doing good, 
 Though the ungrateful subjects of their favours 
 Are barren in return.— Rozae. 
 
 Do good by stealth, and blush to find it fame.— Pope. 
 
 And learn the luxury of doing good. — Goldsmith. 
 
 Happy were men if they but understood 
 There is no safety but in doing good.— Fountain. 
 
GOOD 
 
 304 
 
 GOOD DEEDS 
 
 1540. GOOD. Final 
 
 Oh, yet we trust that somehow good 
 Will be the final goal of ill, 
 
 To pangs of nature, sins of will, 
 
 Defects of doubt and taints of blood ; 
 
 That nothing walks with aimless feet; 
 
 That not one life shall be destroy’d, 
 
 Or cast as rubbish to the void, 
 
 When God hath made the pile complete ; 
 
 That not a worm is cloven in vain : 
 
 That not a moth with vain desire 
 Is shrivell’d in a fruitless fire, 
 
 Or but subserves another’s gain. 
 
 Behold ! we know not anything ; 
 
 I can but trust that good shall fall 
 At last—far-off—at last, to all— 
 
 And every winter change to spring. 
 
 So runs my dream ; but what am I ? 
 
 An infant crying in the night— 
 
 An infant crying for the light— 
 
 And with no language but a cry. — Tennyson. 
 
 1541. GOOD: seldom valued. 
 
 Little knows 
 
 Any, but God alone, to value right 
 
 The good before him, but perverts best things 
 
 To worst abuse, or to their meanest use.— Alii ton. 
 
 1542. GOOD. Unexpected 
 
 But what of all the joys of earth was most 
 Of native growth, most proper to the soil— 
 
 Not elsewhere known, in worlds that never fell—- 
 Was joy that sprung from disappointed woe. 
 
 The joy in grief; the pleasure after pain ; 
 
 Fears turn’d to hopes ; meetings expected not; 
 Deliverances from dangerous attitudes ; 
 
 Better for worse ; and best sometimes for worst; 
 And all the seeming ill, ending in good— 
 
 A sort of happiness composed, which none 
 Has had experience of, but mortal man.— Pollok. 
 
 1543. GOOD-BYE. 
 
 Farewell ! Farewell! is often heard 
 From the lips of those who part: 
 
 ’Tis a whisper’d tone, ’tis a gentle word, 
 
 But it springs not from the heart. 
 
 It may serve for the lover’s lay. 
 
 To be sung ’neath a summer sky ; 
 
 But give me the lips that say 
 The honest words, ‘ Good-bye ! ’ 
 
 Adieu! Adieu! may greet the ear 
 In the guise of courtly speech ; 
 
 But when we leave the kind and dear, 
 
 ’Tis not what the soul would teach. 
 Whene’er we grasp the hands of those 
 We would have for ever nigh, 
 
 The flame of friendship burns and glows 
 In the warm, frank words, ‘ Good-bye ! ’ 
 
 Go watch the pale and dying one, 
 
 When the glance has lost its beam— 
 
 When the brow is cold as the marble stone, 
 And the world a passing dream; 
 
 And the latest pressure of the hand, 
 
 The look of the closing eye, 
 
 Yield what the heart must understand— 
 
 A long, a last ‘Good-bye.’— Eliza Cook. 
 
 1544. GOOD DEEDS : are more than words. 
 
 It is a kind of good deed to say well, 
 
 And yet words are not deeds.— Shakespeare. 
 
 1545. GOOD DEEDS : enrich the doer. 
 
 Good, the more 
 
 Communicated, more abundant grows ; 
 
 The author not impair’d, but honour’d more 
 
 Milton. 
 
 1546. GOOD DEEDS. Memory of 
 
 The sweetest cordial we receive at last, 
 
 Is conscience of our virtuous actions past. 
 
 Goffe. 
 
 When our souls shall leave this dwelling. 
 The glory of one fair and virtuous action 
 Is above all the scutcheons on our tomb, 
 
 Or silken banners over us.— Shh'ley. 
 
 1547. GOOD DEEDS: repaid. 
 
 Good deeds in this world done 
 Are paid beyond the sun ; 
 
 As water on the root 
 Is seen above in fruit. 
 
 Oriental , tr. by Alger. 
 
 1548. GOOD DEEDS : should be done boldly. 
 
 Man should dare all things that he knows is right, 
 And fear to do no act save what is wrong ; 
 
 But, guided safely by his inward light, 
 
 And with a permanent belief, and strong, 
 
 In Him who is our Father and our Friend, 
 
 He should walk steadfastly unto the end. 
 
 Phoebe Carey. 
 
GOOD DEEDS 
 
 305 
 
 GOODNESS 
 
 I 549 - GOOD DEEDS : should be done humbly. 
 
 The peaches redden on the wall, 
 
 Hiding in hollow cells of green, 
 
 Where plaited leaves hang thick about, 
 
 And scarce permit them to be seen ; 
 
 And so, in truth, good deeds should be 
 Conceal’d in sweet humility. 
 
 , 1 55 °* GOOD DEEDS : the best prayers. 
 
 And while ‘ Lord, Lord ! ’ the pious tyrants cried, 
 Who in the poor their Master crucified, 
 
 His daily prayer, far better understood 
 In acts than words, was simply doing good. 
 
 Whittier. 
 
 155 r * GOOD DEEDS : their influence. 
 
 f/ 
 
 That light you see is burning in my hall; 
 
 How far that little candle throws his beams ! 
 
 So shines a good deed in a naughty world. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Some there are 
 
 By their good deeds exalted, lofty minds 
 And meditative authors of delight 
 And happiness, which to the end of time 
 Will live and spread and flourish.— Wordsworth. 
 
 1552. GOOD DISPOSITIONS. 
 
 Some few the gift by nature seem to have. 
 
 Of knowing what is right. Perchance it be 
 Result of father’s, mother’s saintly prayers, 
 
 Or of a purpose strong, and full of love, 
 
 In generations gone before, who pray’d 
 And wrestled much against the evil Will ; 
 
 Nor ceased to hope their children yet unborn 
 Should be with good gifts gifted—do the right, 
 
 And find eternal bliss.— Lady Chatterton. 
 
 1553. GOOD HUMOUR. 
 
 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. 
 
 He keeps his temper’d mind, serene and pure, 
 
 And every passion aptly harmonized, 
 
 Amid a jarring world. — Thomson. 
 
 1 554 - GOOD MEN : benefited by adversity. 
 
 The good are better made by ill, 
 
 As odours crush’d are better still.— Rogers. 
 
 J 555- GOOD NAME. Love of 
 
 Good name was dear to all: without it, none 
 Could soundly sleep, even on a royal bed ; 
 
 Or drink with relish from a cup of gold : 
 
 And with it, on his borrow’d straw, or by 
 The leafless hedge, beneath the open heavens, 
 
 The weary beggar took untroubled rest. 
 
 It was a music of most heavenly tone, 
 
 To which the heart leap’d joyfully, and all 
 The spirits danced: for honest fame, men laid 
 Their heads upon the block, and while the axe 
 Descended, look’d and smiled. It was of price 
 Invaluable—riches, health, repose, 
 
 Whole kingdoms, life, were given for it, and he 
 Who got it was the winner still; and he 
 Who sold it dui'st not open his ear, nor look 
 On human face, he knew himself so vile.— Pollok. 
 
 I 556* GOOD NAME. Value of a 
 
 Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, 
 
 Is the immediate jewel of their souls : 
 
 Who steals my purse steals trash ; ’tis 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.— Shakespeare. 
 
 1557 . GOOD PURPOSES. 
 
 Thy purpose firm is equal to the deed: 
 
 Who does the best his circumstance allows 
 Does well, acts nobly; angels could no more. 
 
 Young. 
 
 1558 . GOOD WORKS : which is the best? 
 
 ‘ Of all good works of men, which is the best ? ’ 
 
 A young man once a prophet thus address’d, 
 
 And this reply the prophet on him press’d: 
 
 ‘From strife exempt, good works together chime, 
 And all are beautiful each in its time.’ 
 
 Oriental, tr. by Alger. 
 
 1 559- GOODNESS. Beauty of 
 
 In nature there’s no blemish but the mind ; 
 
 None can be call’d deform’d but the unkind ; 
 Virtue is beauty, but the beauteous evil 
 Are empty trunks, o’erflourish’d by the devil. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Goodness is beauty in its best estate. 
 
 Marlowe. 
 
 20 
 
GOODNESS 
 
 306 
 
 GOVERNMENT 
 
 1560. GOODNESS. Happiness of 
 
 Then to be good is to be happy : angels 
 
 Are happier than mankind, because they’re better. 
 
 Rozue. 
 
 1561. GOODNESS. Immortality of 
 
 Never despair of goodness. Men are bad, 
 
 But have been worse. The badness shall die out, 
 The goodness, like the thistle-down, shall float, 
 Bearing a germ beneath its tiny car— 
 
 A germ predestined to become a tree, 
 
 To fall on fruitful soil, and on its boughs 
 
 Bear seed enough to stock the universe.— Mackay. 
 
 1562. GOODNESS. Nobility of 
 
 Howe’er it be, it seems to me 
 ’Tis only noble to be good ; 
 
 Kind hearts are more than coronets, 
 
 And simple faith than Norman blood. 
 
 Tennyson. 
 
 Good, 
 
 Only, is great, and generous, and fruitful. 
 
 Bailey. 
 
 1563. GOODNESS. Power of 
 
 Thy narroAv soul 
 Knows not the godlike glory of forgiving; 
 
 Nor can thy cold, thy ruthless heart conceive 
 How large the power, how fix’d the empire is, 
 Which benefits confer on generous minds : 
 Goodness prevails upon the stubborn foes, 
 
 And conquers more than ever Caesar’s sword did. 
 
 Rowe. 
 
 1564. GOODNESS. Reputation of 
 
 A VERY little goodness goes for much. 
 
 I’m kind, they say— 
 
 Give coals in winter, cordials for the sick ; 
 
 They love me, those poor hinds, though I have ne’er 
 Resign’d a pleasure, let a whim be cross’d, 
 
 Pinch’d for an hour the stomach of desire, 
 
 For one of them. 
 
 1565. GOODNESS. Reward of 
 
 Who has good deeds brought well to end, 
 
 For him the gloomy forests shine ; 
 
 The whole world is to him a friend, 
 
 And all the earth a diamond mine. 
 
 Oriental , tr. by Alger. 
 
 1566. GOODNESS. Teaching 
 
 She taught us how to live ; 
 
 With blameless life girt round with sanctity, 
 Lowly in heart, in soul and purpose high, 
 
 Sweet lessons did she give 
 
 Of faith, of love, of hope; for all that shone 
 Brightest in Christian lives, she made her own. 
 
 Burleigh. 
 
 1567. GOSPEL. Traits of the 
 
 O WORTHY gift of heavenly love to man! 
 
 Bless’d exposition of salvation’s plan ! 
 
 By truth confirm’d, through each important line, 
 
 A revelation of the Will Divine ! 
 
 The rule to which our stubborn hearts should bend, 
 The rich man’s monitor, the poor man’s friend ! 
 The good man’s trust, the scoffer’s secret dread ! 
 
 A song of peace to soothe death’s fearful bed, 
 
 Of peace from God, long tempted, oft denied, 
 
 To man the contrite, humble child of pride ! 
 
 Selwyn. 
 
 1568. GOSPEL TRUMPET. The 
 
 How sweet the Gospel trumpet sounds ! 
 
 Its notes are grace and love; 
 
 Its echo through the world resounds 
 From Jesu’s throne above. 
 
 It is the sound, the joyful sound, 
 
 Of mercy rich and free ; 
 
 Pardon it offers, peace proclaims, 
 
 Sinner ! it speaks to Thee. 
 
 It tells the weary soul of rest, 
 
 The poor of heavenly wealth, 
 
 Of joy to heal the mourning breast ; 
 
 It brings the sin-sick health. 
 
 It is the sound, &c. 
 
 Its words announce a heavenly feast 
 Of water, milk, and wine, 
 
 And manna in the wilderness, 
 
 Provisions all divine. 
 
 It is the sound, &c. 
 
 It speaks of boundless grace by which 
 The vilest are forgiven ; 
 
 To Christians it proclaims a rich 
 Inheritance in heaven. 
 
 It is the sound, &c. 
 
 To men in every clime, degree, 
 
 Its message is address’d; 
 
 The Jew and Gentile, bond and free, 
 
 Are with its blessings biess’d. 
 
 It is the sound, &c. 
 
 1569. GOVERNMENT. Art of 
 
 Each petty hand 
 
 Can steer a ship becalm’d ; but he that will 
 Govern and carry her to her ends, must know 
 His tides, his currents, how to shift his sails ; 
 
GOVERNMENT 
 
 307 
 
 GRACE 
 
 What she will bear in foul, what in fair weathers : 
 Where her springs are, her leaks, and how to stop 
 them ; 
 
 \\ hat strands, what shelves, what rocks do threaten 
 , her; 
 
 The forces and the natures of all winds, 
 
 Gusts, storms, and tempests : when her keel ploughs 
 hell, 
 
 1576 - GOVERNMENT. Rules for 
 
 For just experience tells, in every soil, 
 
 That those who think must govern those who toil; 
 And all that freedom’s highest aims can reach 
 Is but to lay proportion’d loads on each .—Goldsmith. 
 
 1 577• GRACE : abused. 
 
 And deck knocks heaven, then to manage her, 
 Becomes the name and office of a pilot.— Jonson. 
 
 I 57°- GOVERNMENT. Blessings of a 
 
 Safety and equal government are things 
 Which subjects make as happy as their kings. 
 
 Waller. 
 
 I57 1 - GOVERNMENT. Forms of 
 
 For forms of government let fools contest ; 
 Whate’er is best administer’d is best. 
 
 1572 . GOVERNMENT. Free 
 
 A government on freedom’s basis built, 
 
 Has, in all ages, been the theme of song 
 And the desire of great and god-like men ; 
 
 For this the Grecian patriots fought—for this 
 The noblest Roman died. —Mrs Hale. 
 
 1573* GOVERNMENT. Glory of a 
 
 ’Tis no less 
 
 To govern justly, make your empire flourish 
 With wholesome laws, in riches, peace, and plenty. 
 Than by the expense of wealth and blood to make 
 New acquisitions.— Denham. 
 
 \ _ 
 
 J 574- GOVERNMENT: how little it can do to 
 lessen sorrow. 
 
 In every government, though terrors reign. 
 
 Though tyrant kings or tyrant laws restrain, 
 
 How small of all that human hearts endure 
 That part which laws or kings can cause or cure ! 
 Still to ourselves in every place consign’d, 
 
 Our own felicity we make or find. 
 
 With secret course, which no loud storms annoy, 
 Glides the smooth current of domestic joy. 
 
 Dr Johnson. 
 
 1 575* GOVERNMENT: must not be surrendered 
 to the vicious. 
 
 The more the bold, the bustling, and the bad, 
 Press to usurp the reins of power, the more 
 Behoves it virtue, with indignant zeal, 
 
 To check their combination.— Thomson. 
 
 But grace , abused, brings forth the foulest deeds, 
 
 As richest soil the most luxuriant weeds.— Cowper. 
 
 I578- GRACE. Comfort of 
 
 Nor exile I, nor prison, fear; love makes my 
 courage great ; 
 
 I find a Saviour everywhere, His grace in every 
 state. 
 
 Nor castle-walls, nor dungeons deep, exclude His 
 quickening beams; 
 
 There I can sit, and sing, and weep, and dwell on 
 heavenly themes \— Madame Guy on. 
 
 1579* GRACE. Free 
 
 O God, how beautiful the thought, 
 
 How merciful the bless’d decree, 
 
 That grace can e’er be found, when sought, 
 
 And nought shut out the soul from Thee. 
 
 The cell may cramp, the fetters gall, 
 
 The flame may scorch, the rack may tear 
 But torture, stake, or prison-wall 
 
 Can be endured with faith and prayer. 
 
 Eliza Cook. 
 
 1580 . GRACE: and glory. 
 
 The Lord will grace and glory give 
 To those who humbly seek His face ; 
 
 We live for glory while we live, 
 
 And seek it in the paths of grace. 
 
 For grace is glory here begun. 
 
 And till the heavenly prize is won, 
 
 The Christian finds, through all his race, 
 
 That grace is glory, glory grace. 
 
 Janies Montgomery. 
 
 1581 . GRACE. Gospel 
 
 God, in the gospel of His Son, 
 
 Makes His eternal counsels known, 
 
 Where love in all its glory shines. 
 
 And truth is drawn in fairest lines. 
 
 Here sinners of a humble frame 
 
 May taste His grace, and learn His name ; 
 
 May read, in characters of blood, 
 
 The wisdom, power, and grace of God. 
 
GRACE 
 
 308 
 
 CRAVE 
 
 The prisoner here may break his chains ; 
 
 The weary rest from all his pains; 
 
 The captive feel his bondage cease ; 
 
 The mourner find the way of peace. 
 
 Here faith reveals to mortal eyes 
 A brighter world beyond the skies ; 
 
 Here shines the light which guides our’way 
 From earth to realms of endless day— Beddome. 
 
 1582. GRACE. Throne of 
 
 There is a spot of consecrated ground 
 Where brightest hopes and holiest joys are found : 
 ’Tis named (and Christians love the well-known 
 sound) 
 
 The throne of grace. 
 
 ’Tis here a calm retreat is always found : 
 
 Perpetual sunshine gilds the sacred ground ; 
 
 Pure airs and heavenly odours breathe around 
 The throne of grace. 
 
 While on this vantage-ground the Christian stands, 
 His quicken’d eye a boundless view commands; 
 Discovers fair abodes not made with hands— 
 Abodes of peace. 
 
 Terrestrial objects, disenchanted there, 
 
 Lose all their power to dazzle or insnare: 
 
 One only object then seems worth our care— 
 
 To win the race 
 
 This is the mount where Christ’s disciples see 
 The glory of incarnate Deity : 
 
 ’Tis here they find it good indeed to be, 
 
 And view His face. 
 
 A new creation here begins to rise— 
 
 Fruits of the Spirit, flowers of Paradise, 
 
 Water’d from heaven in full and sure supplies 
 By streams of grace. 
 
 Toward this blest spot the Spirit bends His ear, 
 The fervent prayer, the contrite sigh, to hear; 
 
 To bid the mourner banish every fear, 
 
 And go in peace. 
 
 Heie may the comfortless and weary find 
 One who can cure the sickness of the mind 5 
 One who delights the broken heart to bind 
 The Prince of Peace. 
 
 Saviour ! the sinner’s friend, our hope, our all ! 
 Here teach us humbly at Thy feet to fall; 
 
 Id ere on Thy name with love and faith to call 
 For pardoning grace. 
 
 Ne’er let the glory from this spot remove, 
 
 Till, number’d with Thy ransom’d flock above, 
 We cease to want, but never cease to love, 
 
 The throne of grace. —Miss Elliott. 
 
 1583. GRACES. A Trio of 
 
 There are three lessons I would write— 
 
 Three words as with a burning pen, 
 
 In tracings of eternal light, 
 
 Upon the hearts of men. 
 
 Have Hope ! Though clouds environ round, 
 
 And gladness hides her face in scorn, 
 
 Put thou the shadow from thy brow— 
 
 No night but hath its morn. 
 
 Have Faith ! Where’er thy bark is driven— 
 
 The calm’s disport, the tempest’s mirth— 
 
 Know this : God rules the hosts of heaven, 
 
 The inhabitants of earth. 
 
 Have Love ! Not love alone for one, 
 
 But men, as man, thy brothers call ; 
 
 And scatter, like the circling sun, 
 
 Thy charities on all. 
 
 Thus grave these lessons on thy soul— 
 
 Hope, Faith, and Love—and thou shalt find 
 Strength when life’s surges rudest roll, 
 
 Light when thou else wert blind.— Schiller. 
 
 1584. GRATITUDE. Instinct of 
 
 He that has nature in him must be grateful; 
 
 ’Tis the Creator’s primary great law, 
 
 That links the chain of beings to each other, 
 
 Joining the greater to the lesser nature, 
 
 Tying the weak and strong, the poor and powerful, 
 Subduing men to brutes, and even biutes to men. 
 
 Madan. 
 
 1585. GRATITUDE. Reward of 
 
 When gratitude o’erflows the swelling heart, 
 
 And breathes in free and uncorrupted praise 
 For benefits received, propitious Heaven 
 Takes such acknowledgment as fragrant incense, 
 And doubles all its blessings.— Lillo. 
 
 1586. GRATITUDE. Unutterable 
 
 Fountain of mercy ! whose pervading eye 
 Can look within and read what passes there, 
 
 Accept my thoughts for thanks ; I have no words : 
 My soul, o’erfraught with gratitude, rejects 
 The aid of language : Lord !—behold my heart. 
 
 Hannah More. 
 
 1587. GRAVE. Adorning the 
 
 Erewhile, on England’s pleasant shores, oui siies 
 Left not their churchyards unadorn’d with shades 
 Or blossoms, but indulgent to the strong 
 And natural dread of man’s last home, the grave, 
 Its frost and silence—they disposed around, 
 
GRAVE 
 
 309 
 
 GRAVE 
 
 To soothe the melancholy spirit that dwells 
 Too sadly on life’s close, the forms and hues 
 Of vegetable beauty. There the yew, 
 
 Green even amid the snows of winter, told 
 
 Of immortality, and gracefully 
 
 The willow, a perpetual mourner, droop’d ; 
 
 And there the gadding woodbine crept about, 
 
 And there the ancient ivy. From the spot 
 Where the sweet maiden, in her blossoming years 
 Cut off, was laid with streaming eyes, and hands 
 That trembled as they placed her there, the rose 
 Sprung modest, on bow’d stock, and better spoke 
 Her graces than the proudest monument. 
 
 There children set about their playmate’s grave 
 The pansy. On the infant’s little bed, 
 
 Wet at its planting with maternal tears, 
 
 Emblem of early sweetness, early death, 
 
 Nestled the lowly primrose. Childless dames, 
 
 And maids that would not raise the redden’d eye— 
 Orphans, from whose young lids the light of joy 
 Fled early—silent lovers, who had given 
 All that they lived for to the arms of earth, 
 
 Came often, o’er the recent graves to strew 
 Their offerings, rue, and rosemary, and flowers. 
 
 Bryant. 
 
 1588. GRAVE : a treasure-chamber. 
 
 Room for our treasure, closed tomb ! 
 
 Open thy doors, O Grave ! 
 
 Take all the angel Death can claim, 
 
 And all that thou canst have. 
 
 For Christ to thy dark gates went down, 
 
 And rent the veil in twain, 
 
 And gleams of glory, else unseen, 
 
 Point where He rose again. 
 
 Room for thy kindred dust, O Pj^rth, 
 
 The casket of the soul; 
 
 Room for a little while, and then 
 Resign thy proud control. 
 
 O Death, where is thy boasted power, 
 
 That breaks Life’s threefold cord, 
 
 When the freed spirit upward soars, 
 
 To meet her risen Lord? 
 
 Take, then, the garment of our loved, 
 
 Still precious for her sake ; 
 
 But glorious shall that garment be 
 When Christ shall bid her wake. 
 
 The faded form thou dost enfold, 
 
 On which we weeping gazed, 
 
 Shall lose each stain of Earth, and be 
 In incorruption raised. 
 
 1589. GRAVE : awaits us all. 
 
 Fade, flowers ! fade : nature will have it so; 
 
 ’Tis what we all must in our autumn do ! 
 
 And as your leaves lie quiet on the ground, 
 
 The loss alone by those that loved them found ; 
 
 So in the grave shall we as quiet lie, 
 
 Miss’d by some few that loved our company ; 
 
 But some so like to thorns and nettles live, 
 
 That none for them can, when they perish, grieve. 
 
 Waller. 
 
 Here the tongue warrior lies ! disabled now, 
 Disarm’d, dishonour’d, like a wretch that’s gagg’d 
 And cannot tell his ail to passers-by. 
 
 Great man of language ; whence this mighty change ? 
 This dumb despair, and drooping of the head ? 
 Though strong persuasion hung upon thy lip, 
 
 And sly insinuation’s softer arts 
 In ambush lay about thy flowing tongue ; 
 
 Alas ! how chop-fall’n now ! thick mists and silence 
 Rest, like a weary cloud, upon thy breast 
 Unceasing. Ah ! where is the lifted arm, 
 
 The strength of action, and the force of words, 
 
 The well-turn’d period, and the well-tuned verse, 
 With all the lesser ornaments of phrase ? 
 
 Ah ! fled for ever, as they ne’er had been, 
 
 Razed from the book of fame ; or, more provoking, 
 Perhaps some hackney hunger-bitten scribblei 
 Insults thy memory, and blots thy tomb 
 With long flat narrative, or duller rhymes, 
 
 With heavy-halting pace that drawl along ; 
 
 Enough to rouse a dead man into rage, 
 
 And warm with red resentment the wan cheek. 
 
 Blair. 
 
 1590. GRAVE. Blossom from the 
 
 Rest, weary dust, lie here an hour; 
 
 Ere long, like blossom from the sod, 
 
 Thou shalt come forth a glorious flower, 
 
 Fit for the eye of God.— Bonar. 
 
 1591 . GRAVE. Choice of a 
 
 Let vanity adorn the marble tomb 
 
 With trophies, rhymes, and scutcheons of renown, 
 In the deep dungeon of some Gothic dome, 
 
 Where night and desolations ever frown : 
 
 Mine be the breezy hill that skirts the down, 
 
 Where a green grassy turf is all I crave, 
 
 With here and there a violet bestrown, 
 
 Fast by a brook, or fountain’s murmuring wave ; 
 And many an evening sun shine sweetly on my 
 grave. — Beattie. 
 
 1592. GRAVE. Christ in the 
 
 No more a charnel-house, to fence 
 The relics of lost innocence, 
 
 A vault of ruin and decay ; 
 
 Th’ imprisoning stone is roll’d away j 
 
GRAVE 
 
 310 
 
 GRAVE 
 
 ’Tis now a cell, where angels use 
 To come and go with heavenly news, 
 
 And in the ear of mourners say, 
 
 ‘ Come see the place where Jesus lay.’ 
 
 ’Tis now a fane where love can find 
 Christ everywhere embalm’d and shrined ; 
 
 Aye gathering up memorials sweet, 
 
 Where’er she sets her duteous feet.— Keble. 
 
 1593. GRAVE. Congregation of the 
 
 Here are the prude severe, and gay coquette, 
 
 The sober widow, and the young green virgin, 
 Cropp’d like a rose before ’tis fully blown, 
 
 Or half its worth disclosed. Strange medley here ! 
 Here garrulous old age winds up his tale ; 
 
 And jovial youth, of lightsome, vacant heart, 
 
 Whose every day was made of melody, 
 
 Hears not the voice of mirth : the shrill-tongued 
 shrew, 
 
 Meek as the turtle-dove, forgets her chiding. 
 
 Here are the wise, the generous, and the brave ; 
 
 The just, the good, the worthless, the profane, 
 
 The downright clown, and perfectly well-bred ; 
 
 The fool, the churl, the scoundrel, and the mean, 
 The supple statesman, and the patriot stern ; 
 
 The wrecks of nations, and the spoils of time, 
 
 With all the lumber of six thousand years.— Blair. 
 
 1594. GRAVE. Couch of the 
 
 Ah ! hush now your mournful complainings, 
 
 Nor mothers your sweet babes deplore ; 
 
 This death, we so shrink from, but cometh 
 The ruin of life to restore. 
 
 Who now would the sculptor’s rich marble, 
 
 Or beautiful sepulchres crave ? 
 
 We lay them but here, in their slumber: 
 
 This earth is a couch, not a grave. 
 
 The seed which we sow in its weakness, 
 
 In the spring shall rise green from the earth ; 
 
 And the dead we thus mournfully bury, 
 
 In God’s spring-time again shall shine forth. 
 
 Mother Earth, in thy soft bosom cherish 
 Whom we lay to repose in thy dust; 
 
 For precious these relics we yield thee ; 
 
 Be faithful, O Earth ! to thy trust. 
 
 The happy and just times are coming, 
 
 When God every hope shall fulfil : 
 
 And visibly then must thou render 
 What now in thy keeping lies still. 
 
 Prudentius. 
 
 1 595. GRAVE : dreaded. 
 
 The grave, dread thing ! 
 
 Men shiver when thou’rt named : Nature, appall’d, 
 Shakes off her wonted firmness.— Blair. 
 
 Why should the grave be terrible ? 
 
 Why should it be a word of fear, 
 
 Jarring upon the mortal ear? 
 
 There repose and silence dwell : 
 
 The living hear the funeral knell, 
 
 But the dead no funeral knell can hear. 
 
 Does the gay flower scorn the grave ? the dew 
 Forget to kiss its turf? the stream 
 Refuse to bathe it ? or the beam 
 Of moonlight shun the narrow bed, 
 
 Where the tired pilgrim rests his head ? 
 
 No ! the moon is there, and smiling too ! 
 
 And the sweetest song of the morning bird 
 Is oft in that ancient yew-tree heard; 
 
 And there may you see the hare-bell blue 
 Bending his light form gently—proudly, 
 
 And listen to the fresh winds, loudly 
 Playing around your sod, as gay 
 As if it were a holiday, 
 
 And children freed from durance they. 
 
 Bowring. 
 
 1596. GRAVE. Hymn of the 
 
 ‘ Earth to earth, and dust to dust! ’ 
 
 Here the evil and the just, 
 
 Here the youthful and the old, 
 
 Here the fearful and the bold, 
 
 Here the matron and the maid, 
 
 In one silent bed are laid ; 
 
 Here the vassal and the king 
 Side by side lie withering ; 
 
 Here the sword and sceptre rust— 
 
 ‘ Earth to earth, and dust to dust! ’ 
 
 Age on age shall roll along 
 O’er this*pale and mighty throng; 
 
 Those that wept them, they that weep, 
 
 All shall with these sleepers sleep ; 
 Brothers, sisters of the worm— 
 
 Summer’s sun, or Winter’s storm, 
 
 Song of peace, or battle’s roar 
 Ne’er shall break their slumbers more ; 
 Death shall keep his sullen trust— 
 
 ‘ Earth to earth, and dust to dust! ’ 
 
 But a day is coming fast— 
 
 Earth, thy mightiest and thy last! 
 
 It shall come in fear and wonder, 
 Heralded by trump and thunder ; 
 
 It shall come in strife and toil, 
 
 It shall come in blood and spoil ; 
 
 It shall come in empires’ groans, 
 
 Burning temples, ruin’d thrones ; 
 
 Then, Ambition, rue thy lust! 
 
 ‘ Earth to earth, and dust to dust! ’ 
 
GRA VE 
 
 GREAT MEAT 
 
 3ii 
 
 Then shall come the judgment sign : 
 
 In the east the King shall shine. 
 
 Flashing from heaven’s golden gate— 
 Thousands, thousands, round His state— 
 Spirits with the crown and plume ; 
 
 Tremble then, thou sullen tomb ! 
 
 Heaven shall open on thy sight, 
 
 Earth be turn’d to living light— 
 
 Kingdom of the ransom’d just— 
 
 ‘ Earth to earth, and dust to dust! ’ 
 
 Then thy mount, Jerusalem, 
 
 Shall be gorgeous as a gem ! 
 
 Then shall in the desert rise 
 Fruits of more than Paradise ; 
 
 Earth by angel feet be trod— 
 
 One great garden of her God ! 
 
 Till are dried the mourner’s tears, 
 
 Through a thousand glorious years! 
 
 Now in hope of Him we trust— 
 
 Earth to earth, and dust to dust! ’ 
 
 Croly. 
 
 1 597 - GRAVE. Inhabitants of the 
 
 Earth has hosts, but thou canst show 
 Many a million for her one ; 
 
 Through thy gates, the mortal flow 
 Has for countless years roll’d on. 
 
 Back from the tomb 
 No step has come; 
 
 There fix’d, till the last trumpet’s sound 
 Shall bid thy prisoners be unbound. 
 
 Croly. 
 
 1598. GRAVE: its lessons forgotten. 
 
 W hat 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. 
 
 Lytton. 
 
 1599 - GRAVE. Lessons of the 
 
 When self-esteem, or others’ adulation, 
 
 Would cunningly persuade us we are something 
 Above the common level of our kind ; 
 
 The grave gainsays the smooth-complexion’d flattery, 
 And with blunt truth acquaints us what we are. 
 
 Blair. 
 
 1600. GRAVE: the common meeting-place. 
 
 ’TlS here all meet! 
 
 The shivering Icelander, and sun-burnt Moor ; 
 
 Men of all climes, that never met before ; 
 
 And of all creeds, the Jew, the Turk, and Christian. 
 Plere the prince, and favourite yet prouder, 
 
 His sov’reign’s keeper, and the people’s scourge, 
 
 Are huddled out of sight. Here lie abash’d 
 The great negotiators of the earth, 
 
 And celebrated masters of the balance, 
 
 Deep read in stratagems and wiles of courts ; 
 
 Now vain their treaty skill! Death scorns to treat. 
 
 Blair. 
 
 Here the o’erloaded slave flings down his burden 
 From his gall’d shoulders; and when the cruel tyrant, 
 With all his guards of tools and power about him, 
 
 Is meditating new, unheard-of hardships, 
 
 Mocks his short arm, and, quick as thought, escapes 
 Where tyrants vex not, and the weary rest.— Blair. 
 
 Here the warm lover, leaving the cool shade, 
 
 The tell-tale echo, and the babbling stream, 
 
 Time out of mind the favourite seats of love, 
 
 Fast by his gentle mistress lays him down, 
 Unblasted by foul tongue. Here friends and foes 
 Lie close, unmindful of their former feuds. 
 
 The lawn-robed prelate, and plain presbyter, 
 Erewhile that stood aloof as shy to meet, 
 
 Familiar mingle here, like sister streams 
 
 That some rude interposing rock had split.— Blair. 
 
 1601. GRAVE: the great reconciler. 
 
 The reconciling grave 
 Swallows distinction first, that made us foes, 
 
 That all alike lie down in peace together. 
 
 Southern. 
 
 No prisoners there, enforced by torments, cry ; 
 
 But fearless by their old tormentors lie.— Sandys. 
 
 1602. GRAVES-: of children. 
 
 There’s many an empty cradle, 
 
 There’s many an empty bed, 
 
 There’s many a lonesome bosom, 
 
 Whose joy and light have fled ; 
 
 For thick in every graveyard 
 The little hillocks lie,— 
 
 And every hillock represents 
 An angel in the sky. 
 
 1603. GREAT MEN. Defects of 
 
 The mightier man, the mightier is the thing 
 That makes him honour’d, or begets him hate: 
 
 For greatest scandal waits on greatest state. 
 
 The moon being clouded presently is miss’d, 
 
 But little stars may hide them when they list. 
 
 The crow may bathe his coal-black wings in mire. 
 And unperceived fly with the filth away ; 
 
GREAT MEN 
 
 312 
 
 GREAT MEN 
 
 But if the like the snow-white swan desire, 
 
 The stain upon his silver down will stay. 
 
 Poor grooms are sightless night, kings glorious day; 
 Gnats are unnoted wheresoe’er they fly, 
 
 But eagles gazed upon with every eye.— Shakespeare. 
 
 1604. GREAT MEN. Good 
 
 How seldom, friend, a good great man inherits 
 Honour and wealth, with all his worth and pains ! 
 It seems a story from the world of spirits 
 When any man obtains that which he merits, 
 
 Or any merits that which he obtains. 
 
 For shame, my friend! renounce this idle strain! 
 What wouldst thou have a good great man obtain ? 
 Wealth, title, dignity, a golden chain, 
 
 Or heaps of corses which his sword hath slain ? 
 Goodness and greatness are not means, but ends. 
 Hath he not always treasures, always friends, 
 
 The great good man? Three treasures—love, and 
 light, 
 
 And calm thoughts, equable as infant’s breath ; 
 And three fast friends, more sure than day or night— 
 Himself, his Maker, and the angel Death. 
 
 Coleridge. 
 
 1605. GREAT MEN : not to be envied. 
 
 They that stand high have many blasts to shake 
 them ; 
 
 And if they fall, they dash themselves to pieces. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 In parts superior what advantage lies ? 
 
 Tell (for you can) what is it to be wise? 
 
 ’Tis but to know how little can be known ; 
 
 To see all others’ faults, and feel our own ; 
 Condemn’d in business or in arts to drudge, 
 Without a second, or without a judge : 
 
 Truths would you teach, or save a sinking land ? 
 All fear, none aid you, and few understand. 
 
 Painful pre-eminence ! yourself to view 
 Above life’s weakness, and its comforts too. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Thrice happy they who sleep in humble life, 
 Beneath the storm ambition blows. ’Tis meet 
 The great should have the fame of happiness. 
 
 The consolation of a little envy ; 
 
 ’Tis all their pay for those superior cares, 
 
 Those pangs of heart, their vassals ne’er can feel. 
 
 Young. 
 
 The tallest pines feel most the power 
 Of wintry blast; the loftiest tower 
 Comes heaviest to the ground ; 
 
 The bolts that spare the mountain’s side, 
 
 His cloud-capt eminence divide 
 And spread the ruin round. 
 
 Horace , tr. by Cowper. 
 
 1606. GREAT MEN. Homage rendered to 
 
 Men are made to bend 
 Before the mighty, and to follow on 
 Submissive where the great may lead—the great, 
 Whose might is not in crowns and palaces, 
 
 In parchment rolls or blazon’d heraldry, 
 
 But in the power of thought, the energy 
 Of unsupported mind, whose steady will 
 No force can daunt, no tangled path divert, 
 
 From its right-onward purpose.— Percival. 
 
 1607. GREAT MEN : often envy the obscure. 
 
 O happy man, saith he, that lo I see 
 
 Grazing his cattle in those pleasant fields. 
 
 If he but knew his good. How blessed he 
 That feels not what affliction greatness yields ! 
 Other than what he is he would not be, 
 
 Nor change his state with him that sceptre wields. 
 Thine, thine is that true life ; that is to live, 
 
 To rest secure, and not rise up to grieve.— Darnel. 
 
 1608. GREAT MEN : should be good men. 
 
 Since, by your greatness, you 
 Are nearer heaven in place ; be nearer it 
 In goodness : rich men should transcend the poor, 
 As clouds the earth ; raised by the comfort of 
 The sun, to water dry and barren grounds. 
 
 Tourneur. 
 
 Authority ! 
 
 Thy worshipp’d symbols round a villain’s trunk 
 Provoke men’s mockery, not their reverence. 
 
 Jephson. 
 
 1609. GREAT MEN: should use their power 
 
 gently. 
 
 Oh, it is excellent 
 
 To have a giant’s strength: but it is tyrannous 
 To use it like a giant.— Shakespeare. 
 
 1610. GREAT MEN: their influence immortal. 
 
 The truly great 
 
 Have all one age, and from one visible space 
 Shed influence ! They, both in power and act, 
 Are permanent, and time is not with them, 
 
 Save as it worketh for them, they in it. 
 
 Coleridge. 
 
GREAT MEN 
 
 3*3 
 
 GREATNESS 
 
 1611. GREAT MEN: unknown. 
 
 The world knows nothing of its greatest men. 
 
 Henry Taylor. 
 
 1612. GREATNESS : burdensome. 
 
 Great wits and valours, like great estates, 
 
 Do sometimes sink with their own weights. 
 
 Butler. 
 
 In care they live, and must for many care ; 
 
 And such the best and greatest ever are. 
 
 Lord Brooke. 
 
 Blinded greatness ever in turmoil, 
 
 Still seeking happy life, makes life a toil. 
 
 Daniel. 
 
 1613. GREATNESS. Deserved 
 
 These are they 
 
 Deserve their greatness and unenvied stand, 
 
 Since what they act transcends what they command. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 1614. GREATNESS : does not necessarily brin 
 happiness. 
 
 O Ceremony ! show me but thy worth ! 
 
 W hat is thy soul of adoration ? 
 
 Art thou aught else, but place, degree, and form, 
 Creating awe and fear in other men ? 
 
 W herein thou art less happy being fear’d 
 Than they in fearing. 
 
 What drink’st thou oft, instead of homage sweet, 
 But poison’d flattery ?— Shakespeare. 
 
 I was bom with greatness ; 
 
 I ve honours, titles, power, here within : 
 
 All vain external greatness I contemn. 
 
 Am I the higher for supporting mountains? 
 
 The taller for a flatterer’s humble bowing? 
 
 Have I more room for being throng’d with followers 1 
 The larger soul for having all my thoughts 
 Fill’d with the lumber of the state affairs ? 
 
 Honours and riches are all splendid vanities, 
 
 They are of chiefest use to fools and knaves. 
 
 Crown. 
 
 High stations tumults, but not bliss create: 
 None think the great unhappy but the great. 
 
 Young. 
 
 Mark how the palace lifts a lying front, 
 Concealing often in magnific jail 
 Proud want; a deep, unanimated gloom. 
 
 - ^ Thomson. 
 
 1615. GREATNESS. Enduring 
 
 A KING, who by the public mouth was named the 
 Great, 
 
 Was on his station’s frailty wont to meditate. 
 
 Against all arrogance as a protecting gate 
 This phrase he oft repeated : ‘ Only God is great. ’ 
 
 Those words he bade them on the palace wall in¬ 
 grain, 
 
 Whose fragment columns, crumbling, to this day re¬ 
 main. 
 
 City and realm are sunk, but travellers relate 
 You still may read the motto : ‘ Only God is great.’ 
 
 Oriental. 
 
 1616. GREATNESS : exposes its possessors to 
 
 hatred. 
 
 The power to give creates us all our foes ; 
 
 Where many seek for favour, few can find it: 
 Each thinks he merits all that he can ask; 
 
 And disappointed, wonders at repulse ; 
 
 Wonders awhile, and then sits down in hate. 
 
 Frowde. 
 
 1617. GREATNESS. Fallen 
 
 Wolsey. Farewell, a long farewell, to all my 
 greatness! 
 
 This is the state of man : to-day he puts forth 
 The tender leaves of hope ; to-morrow blossoms. 
 
 And bears his blushing honours thick upon him ; 
 
 The third day comes a frost, a killing frost; 
 
 And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely 
 His greatness is a ripening—nips his root, 
 
 And then he falls, as I do. 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 service, to the mercy 
 Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me. 
 
 Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye : 
 
 I feel my heart new open’d. Oh, 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. —Shakespeare. 
 
 1618. GREATNESS. False 
 
 Mylo, forbear to call him blest 
 That only boasts a large estate, 
 
 Should all the treasures of the West 
 Meet, and conspire to make him great. 
 
 I know thy better thoughts, I know 
 Thy reason can’t descend so low. 
 
 Let a broad stream, with golden sands, 
 
 Through all his meadows roll, 
 
 He’s but a wretch with all his lands, 
 
 That wears a narrow soul. 
 
GREA TNESS 
 
 3H 
 
 GREA TNESS 
 
 He swells amidst his wealthy store, 
 
 And proudly poising what he weighs, 
 
 In his own scale he fondly lays 
 Huge heaps of shining ore. 
 
 He spreads the balance wide to hold 
 His manors and his farms, 
 
 And cheats the beam with loads of gold 
 He hugs between his arms. 
 
 Thus mingled still with wealth and state, 
 Croesus himself can never know; 
 
 His true dimensions and his weight 
 Are far inferior to their show. 
 
 Were I so tall to reach the pole, 
 
 Or grasp the ocean with my span, 
 
 I must be measured by my soul: 
 
 The mind’s the standard of the man. 
 
 Watts. 
 
 1619. GREATNESS. Influence of place on 
 
 ’Tis not from whom, but where, we live ; 
 The place does oft those graces give : 
 
 Great Julius, on the mountain bred, 
 
 A flock perhaps, or herd, had led ; 
 
 He that the world subdued had been 
 But the best wrestler on the green. — Waller. 
 
 !620. GREATNESS : is not necessarily excel¬ 
 
 lence. 
 
 Great 
 
 Or bright infers not excellence '. the earth, 
 Though, in comparison of heaven, so small, 
 Nor glistering, may of solid good contain 
 More plenty than the sun, that barren snines. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 1621. GREATNESS. Perils of 
 
 The slippery tops of human state, 
 
 The gilded pinnacles of fate.— Cowley. 
 
 1622. GREATNESS. Standard of 
 
 But by your fathers’ worth if yours you rate, 
 
 Count me those only who were good and great. 
 
 Go! if your ancient but ignoble blood 
 
 Has crept through scoundrels ever since the flood, 
 
 Go ! and pretend your family is young, 
 
 Nor own your fathers have been fools so long. 
 
 What can ennoble sots or slaves or cowards ? 
 
 Alas! not all the blood of all the Howards. 
 
 Look next on greatness ! say where greatness lies? 
 < Where, but among the heroes and the wise? ’ 
 Heroes are much the same, the point’s agreed, 
 
 From Macedonia’s madman to the Swede ; 
 
 The whole strange purpose of their lives, to find 
 Or make an enemy of all mankind ! 
 
 Not one looks backward, onward still he goes, 
 
 Yet ne’er looks forward farther than his nose. 
 
 No less alike the politic and wise ; 
 
 All sly slow things, with circumspective eyes ; 
 
 Men in their loose unguarded hours they take, 
 
 Not that themselves are wise, but others weak. 
 
 But grant that those can conquer, these can cheat; 
 ’Tis phrase absurd to call a villain great: 
 
 Who wickedly is wise, or madly brave, 
 
 Is but the more a fool, the more a knave. 
 
 Who noble ends by noble means obtains, 
 
 Or, failing, smiles in exile or in chains, 
 
 Like good Aurelius let him reign, or bleed 
 Like Socrates, that man is great indeed.— Rope 
 
 1623. GREATNESS : transient. 
 
 Where are the mighty thunderbolts of war ? 
 
 The Roman Caesars and the Grecian chiefs, 
 
 The boast of story ? Where the hot-brain’d youth, 
 
 Who the tiara at his pleasure tore 
 
 From kings of all the then-discover’d globe; 
 
 And cried, forsooth, because his arm was hamper’d 
 And had not room enough to do its work?— Blair. 
 
 HONOUR and shame from no condition rise ; 
 
 Act well your part, there all the honour lies. 
 
 Fortune in man has some small difference made, 
 
 One flaunts in rags, one flutters in brocade^; 
 
 The cobbler apron’d, and the parson gown’d, 
 
 The friar hooded, and the monarch crown’d. 
 
 ‘ What differ more (you cry) than crown and cowl ? 
 I’ll 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 prunello. 
 
 Stuck o’er with titles, and hung round with strings, 
 That thou mayst be by kings, or wives of kings ; 
 Boast the pure blood of an illustrious race, 
 
 In quiet flow from Lucrece to Lucrece ; 
 
 1624. GREATNESS. True 
 
 All greatness is in virtue understood ; 
 ’Tis only necessary to be good .—Dry den. 
 
 The good alone are great! 
 
 When winds the mountain oak assail, 
 
 And lay its glories waste, 
 
 Content may slumber in the vale, 
 Unconscious of the blest. 
 
 Through scenes of tumult while we 10am, 
 The heart, alas ! is ne’er at home ; 
 
 It hopes in time to roam no more. 
 
 The mariner, not vainly brave, 
 
 Combats the storm, and rides the wave, 
 
 To rest at last on shore. 
 
GREATNESS 
 
 3*5 
 
 GRIEF 
 
 Ye proud, ye selfish, ye severe, 
 a How vain your mask of state ; 
 
 The good alone have joy sincere, 
 
 The good alone are great! 
 
 Great, when amid the vale of peace, 
 
 J They bid the plaint of sorrow cease, 
 
 And hear the voice of artless praise ; 
 
 As when along the trophied plain 
 Sublime they lead the victor train, 
 
 While shouting nations gaze.— Beattie. 
 
 1625. GREATNESS: ‘ Who shall be greatest >' 
 
 The longing of the restless heart, 
 
 The strife of human will, 
 
 The old dispute of ages since, 
 
 The troubled question still. 
 
 But ‘Jesus call’d a little child ’— 
 
 And such henceforth shall be 
 The fittest type of noble souls, 
 
 And highest dignity. 
 
 For God’s great ones are hidden ones; 
 
 Who deems himself the least, 
 
 And seeks to fill the lowest room, 
 
 Sits highest at the feast. 
 
 Towel-begirt, so nearer God, 
 
 Such cannot stoop to boast; 
 
 They ask not who shall sit at meat, 
 
 But who shall serve the most. 
 
 Unfetter’d in their lowly thoughts, 
 
 They tread a royal road ! 
 
 Too meek to seek the praise of men, 
 
 They win the smile of God. 
 
 Earth has a loud acclaim for those 
 Who hold its laurels dear, 
 
 But heaven is moved to ecstasy 
 Over one contrite tear. 
 
 For him who seeks to serve is kept 
 The welcome and the ring, 
 
 The music of the Father’s house— 
 
 ‘ Bring forth the best’ for him. 
 
 How long the Master’s lesson waits 
 Unlearn d, yet plainly given, 
 
 That of His little ones the least 
 Is greatest in His heaven. 
 
 M. G. Brainard. 
 
 1626. GRIEF : a burden. 
 
 Oppress’d with grief, oppress’d with care, 
 
 A burden more than I can bear; 
 
 I sit me down- and sigh. 
 
 O life ! thou art a galling load, 
 
 Along a rough, a weary road, 
 
 To wretches such as I.— Burns. 
 
 1627. GRIEF. Avarice in 
 
 We know 
 
 There oft is found an avarice in grief, 
 
 And the wan eye of sorrow loves to gaze 
 Upon its secret hoard of treasured woes 
 And pine in solitude.— Mason. 
 
 1628. GRIEF. Benefit of 
 
 Not all in vain do sorrows here 
 
 Pierce with keen arrows every heart; 
 Lessons divine their lips impart: 
 
 There s balm and blessing in a tear. 
 
 The griefs, Which every heart may know. 
 Which earth is powerless to console, 
 
 May keep the tendrils of the soul 
 From taking deeper root below. —Dewart. 
 
 1629. GRIEF : concealed. 
 
 Grief conceal’d, like hidden fire, consumes ; 
 Which, flaming out, would call in help to quench it. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 Alas ! the breast that inly bleeds 
 Has nought to fear from outward blow: 
 
 Who falls from all he knows of bliss 
 Cares little into what abyss.-*—Byron. 
 
 As a beam o er the face of the waters may glow, 
 While the tide runs in darkness and coldness below, 
 So the cheek may be tinged with a warm sunny smile, 
 I hough the cold heart to ruin runs darkly the while. 
 One fatal remembrance, one sorrow that throws 
 Its black shade alike o’er our joys and our woes, 
 
 To which life nothing darker or brighter can bring, 
 F01 which joy has no balm and affliction no sting ! 
 
 ' Moore. 
 
 1630. GRIEF. Consolation for 
 
 Yes, thou mayst weep, for Jesus shed 
 Such teais as those thou sheddest now, 
 
 When for the living or the dead 
 Sorrow lay heavy on His brow. 
 
 He sees thee weep, yet doth not blame 
 The weakness of thy flesh and heart; 
 
 Thy human nature is the same 
 As that in which He took a part. 
 
 He knows its weakness, for He felt 
 The crushing power of pain and woe, 
 
 How body, soul, and spirit melt 
 And faint beneath the stunning blow. 
 
GRIEF 
 
 3 l6 
 
 GRIEF 
 
 What if poor sinners count thy grief 
 The sign of an unchasten’d will; 
 
 He who can give thy soul relief 
 
 Knows that thou art submissive still. 
 
 Turn thee to Him, to Him alone ; 
 
 For all that our poor lips can say 
 To soothe thee, broken-hearted one, 
 
 Would fail to comfort thee to-day. 
 
 We will not speak to thee, but sit 
 In prayerful silence by thy side : 
 
 Grief has its ebbs and flows ; ’tis fit 
 Our love should wait the ebbing tide. 
 
 Jesus Himself will comfort thee, 
 
 In His own time, in His own way ; 
 
 And haply more than ‘ two or three 
 Unite in prayer for thee to-day. 
 
 16-11. GRIEF. Counselling 
 
 0 Men 
 
 Can counsel, and speak comfort to that grief, 
 Which they themselves not feel; but taste it, 
 
 Their counsel turns to passion, which befoie 
 Would give preceptial medicine to rage, 
 
 Fetter strong madness in a silken thread, 
 
 Charm ache with air, and agony with words : 
 
 No, no ! ’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. —Shakespeare. 
 
 Let grief be her own mistress still, 
 
 She loveth her own anguish deep, 
 
 More than much pleasure. Let her will 
 Be done—to weep or not to weep. 
 
 Words weaker than your grief, would make 
 Grief more. ’Twere better I should cease ; 
 Although myself could almost take 
 
 The place of him that sleeps in peace. 
 
 Tennyson. 
 
 1632. GRIEF. Difficulty of ministering to 
 
 Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased; 
 Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow ; 
 
 Raze out the written troubles of the brain ; 
 
 And, with some sweet oblivious antidote, 
 Cleanse the stuff’d bosom of that perilous stuff, 
 Which weighs upon the heart ?— Shakespeare. 
 
 How vain all outward effort to supply 
 
 The soul with joy ! The noontide sun is dark, 
 
 And music discord, when the heart is low. 
 
 Young. 
 
 1633. GRIEF. Dismission of 
 
 Friends counsel quick dismission of our griel: 
 Mistaken kindness ! Our hearts heal too soon. 
 
 Are they more kind than He who struck the blow ; 
 Who bid it do His errand in our hearts, 
 
 And banish peace till nobler guests arrive, 
 
 And bring it back, a true and endless peace ? 
 Calamities are friends — Young. 
 
 1634. GRIEF. Effects of 
 
 Grief hath changed me, 
 
 And careful hours, with Time’s deformed hand, 
 
 Hath written strange defeatures m my face. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Whole years of joy glide unperceived away, 
 
 While sorrow counts the minutes as they pass. 
 
 Havard. 
 
 1635. GRIEF. Immoderate 
 
 Some grief shows much of love, 
 
 But much of grief shows still some want of wit. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Who fails to grieve, when just occasion calls, 
 
 Or grieves too much, deserves not to be blest, 
 Inhuman, or effeminate, his heart. Young. 
 
 We overstate the ills of life, and take 
 Imagination, given us to bring down 
 The choirs of singing angels, overshone 
 By God’s clear glory,—down our earth, to lake 
 The dismal snows instead ; flake following flake, 
 To cover all the corn. We walk upon 
 The shadow of hills across a level thrown, 
 
 And pant like climbers. Near the alder-brake 
 We sigh so loud, the Nightingale within 
 Refuses to sing loud, as else she would. 
 
 Oh, brothers ! let us leave the shame and sin 
 Of taking vainly, in a plaintive mood, 
 
 The holy name of Grief! holy herein, 
 
 That by the grief of One, came all our good. 
 
 E. B. Browning. 
 
 1636. GRIEF. Impressions of 
 
 Who that a watcher doth remain 
 Beside a couch of mortal pain, 
 
 Deems he can ever smile again ? 
 
 Or who that weeps beside a bier 
 Counts he has any more to fear 
 From the world’s flatteries, false and leer? 
 
 And yet anon and he doth start 
 At the light toys in which his heart 
 Can now already claim its part. 
 
GRIEF 
 
 317 
 
 GRIEF 
 
 O heart of ours ! so weak and poor, 
 
 That nothing there can long endure ; 
 
 And so their hurts find shameful cure,— 
 
 While every sadder, wiser thought, 
 
 Each holier aim which sorrow brought, 
 
 Fades quite away, and comes to nought. 
 
 . Trench. 
 
 1637. GRIEF. Influence of time on 
 
 ’Tis long ere time can mitigate your grief; 
 
 To wisdom fly, she quickly brings relief. 
 
 Grotius. 
 
 Still o’er these scenes my memory wakes 
 And fondly broods with miser-care : 
 
 Time but th’ impression deeper makes, 
 
 As streams their channels deeper wear ! 
 
 Burns. 
 
 1638. GRIEF. Internal 
 
 My soul lies hid in shades of grief; 
 
 Whence, like the bird of night, with half-shut eyes 
 She peeps and sickens at the sight of day. — Dryden. 
 
 The tempest in my mind 
 Doth from my senses take all feeling else, 
 
 Save what beats there.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Her big swoln grief surpass’d 
 The power of utterance.— Ovid. 
 
 1639. GRIEF. Nursing 
 
 Why do you keep alone, 
 
 Of sorriest fancies your companions making ; 
 
 Using those thoughts, which should indeed have died 
 With them they think on? Things without all 
 remedy 
 
 Should be without regard : What’s done, is done. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Half of the ills we hoard within our hearts, 
 
 Are ills because we hoard them.— Proctor. 
 
 1640. GRIEF. Obstinate 
 
 ’Tis sweet, and commendable in your nature, Hamlet, 
 To give these mourning duties to your father ; 
 
 But, you must kjiow your father lost a father ; 
 
 That father lost, lost his ; and the survivor bound 
 In filial obligation, for some term 
 To do obsequious sorrow : But to persevere 
 In obstinate condolement is a course 
 Of impious stubbornness ; ’tis unmanly grief. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Cease to lament for that thou canst not help ; 
 
 And study help for that which thou lament’st. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 1641. GRIEF. Overwhelming 
 
 Nor doth the general care 
 Take hold on me ; for my particular grief 
 Is of so flood-gate and o’erbearing nature, 
 
 That it engluts and swallows other sorrows, 
 And it is still itself.— Shakespeare. 
 
 1642. GRIEF. Passionless 
 
 I tell you hopeless grief is passionless— 
 
 That only men incredulous of despair, 
 
 Half-taught in anguish, through the midnight air 
 Beat upward to God’s throne in loud access 
 Of shrieking and reproach. Full desertness 
 In souls, as countries, lieth silent—bare 
 Under the blanching, vertical eye-glare 
 Of the absolute Heavens. Deep-hearted man, ex¬ 
 press 
 
 Grief for thy dead in silence like to death ; 
 
 Most like a monumental statue set 
 
 In everlasting watch and moveless woe, 
 
 Till itself crumble to the dust beneath. 
 
 Touch it : the marble eyelids are not wet— 
 
 If it could weep, it could arise and go. 
 
 E. B. Browning. 
 
 1643. GRIEF. Silent 
 
 Give sorrow words : the grief that does not speak, 
 Whispers the o’erfraught heart, and bids it break. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 • 
 
 I’m dumb as solemn sorrow ought to be ; 
 
 Could my griefs speak, the tale would have no end. 
 
 Otway. 
 
 Alas ! I have no words to tell my grief; 
 
 To vent my sorrow would be some relief: 
 
 Light sufferings give us leisure to complain ; 
 
 We groan, but cannot speak, in greater pain. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 1644. GRIEF : solitude sought in vain. 
 
 Retiring from the popular noise, I seek 
 This unfrequented place to find some ease, 
 
 Ease to the body some, none to the mind 
 From restless thoughts, that like a deadly swarm 
 Of hornets arm’d, no sooner found alone, 
 
 But rush upon me thronging, and present 
 Time past, what once I was, and what am now. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 1645. GRIEF. Sympathy in 
 
 I pray thee, cease thy counsel, 
 
 Which falls into mine ears as profitless 
 
GRIEF 
 
 3i8 
 
 GROWTH IN GRACE 
 
 As water in a sieve : give not me counsel; 
 
 Nor let no comforter delight mine ear, ■ 
 
 But such a one whose wrongs do suit with mine. 
 Bring me a father, that so loved his child. 
 
 Whose joy of her is overwhelm’d like mine, 
 
 And bid him speak of patience ; 
 
 Measure his woe the length and breadth of mine, 
 And let it answer every strain for strain ; 
 
 As thus for thus, and such a grief for such, 
 
 In every lineament, branch, shape, and form : 
 
 If such a one will smile, and stroke his beard ; 
 
 Cry, sorrow, wag! and hem when he should groan ; 
 Patch grief with proverbs ; make misfortune drunk 
 With candle-wasters ; bring him yet to me, 
 
 And I of him will gather patience. 
 
 But there is no such man — Shakespeare. 
 
 1646. GRIEF. Unseen 
 
 These external manners of laments 
 Are merely shadows to the unseen grief 
 That swells with silence in the tortured soul. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 1647. GROWTH : heavenward. 
 
 The oak-tree’s boughs once touch’d the grass ; 
 
 But every year they grew 
 A little farther from the ground, 
 
 And nearer toward the blue. 
 
 So live that you each year may be. 
 
 While time glides softly by, 
 
 A little farther from the earth, 
 
 And nearer to the sky. 
 
 * 1648. GROWTH. True 
 
 It is not growing like a tree 
 In bulk, doth make men better be ; 
 
 Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, 
 
 To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere. 
 
 A lily of a day 
 Is fairer far in May, 
 
 Although it fall and die that night; 
 
 It was the plant and flower of light. 
 
 In small proportions we just beauties see, 
 
 And in short measures life may perfect be. 
 
 Jonson. 
 
 1649. GROWTH IN GRACE : desired. 
 
 Oh, Jesus Christ, grow Thou in me, 
 
 And all things else recede ; 
 
 My heart be daily nearer Thee, 
 
 From sin be daily freed ! 
 
 Fill me with gladness from above, 
 
 Hold me by strength Divine ; 
 
 Lord, let the glow of Thy great love 
 Through my whole being shine ! 
 
 Make this poor self grow less and less, 
 
 Be Thou my life and aim. 
 
 Oh, make me daily, through Thy grace, 
 
 More worthy of Thy name ; 
 
 Daily more fill’d with Thee my heart, 
 
 Daily from self more free ; 
 
 Thou, to whom prayer did strength impart, 
 
 Of my prayer hearer be ! 
 
 Let faith in Thee and in Thy might 
 My every motive move ; 
 
 Be Thou alone my soul’s delight, 
 
 My passion and my love ! 
 
 Lavater , tr. by Mrs H B. Smith. 
 
 1650. GROWTH IN GRACE : how it is 
 furthered. 
 
 I ask’d the Lord that I might grow 
 In faith and love and every grace ; 
 
 M ight more of His salvation know, 
 
 And seek more earnestly His face. 
 
 ’Twas He who taught me thus to pray, 
 
 And He, I trust, has answer’d prayer • 
 
 But it has been in such a way 
 As almost drove me to despair. 
 
 I hoped that in some favour’d hour 
 At once He’d answer my request. 
 
 And by His love’s constraining power 
 Subdue my sins, and give me rest. 
 
 Instead of this He made me feel 
 The hidden evils of my heart; 
 
 And let the angry powers of hell 
 Assault my soul in every part. 
 
 Yea, more, with His own hand he seem’d 
 Intent to aggravate my woe: 
 
 Cross’d all the fair designs I schemed, 
 
 Blasted my gourds, and laid them low. 
 
 ‘ Lord, why is this ? ’ I trembling cried ; 
 
 « Wilt Thou pursue Thy worm to death ? ’ 
 
 * ’Tis in this way,’ the Lord replied, 
 
 * I answer prayer for grace and faith. 
 
 ‘ These inward trials I employ 
 
 From self and pride to set thee free ; 
 
 And break thy schemes of earthly joy, 
 
 That thou mayst set thine all in me ! ’ 
 
 Newton. 
 
 1651. GROWTH IN GRACE. Signs of 
 
 This did-not once so trouble me, 
 
 That better I could not love Thee, 
 
 But now I feel and know. 
 
GUIDANCE 
 
 319 
 
 GUIDANCE 
 
 That only when we love, we find 
 How far our hearts remain behind 
 The love they should bestow. 
 
 While we had little care to call 
 On Thee, and scarcely pray’d at all, 
 
 We seem’d enough to pray; 
 
 But now we only think with shame, 
 
 How seldom to Thy glorious name 
 Our lips their offerings pay. 
 
 And when we gave yet slighter heed 
 , Unto our brother’s suffering need, 
 
 Our heart reproach’d us then 
 Not half so much as now, that we 
 With such a careless eye can see 
 The woes and wants of men. 
 
 In doing is this knowledge won, 
 
 To see what yet remains undone ; 
 
 With this our pride repress. 
 
 And give us grace, a growing store, 
 
 That day by day we may do more, 
 
 And may esteem it less. 
 
 1652. GUIDANCE. Divine: ensures our safety. 
 
 PRESS forward and fear not; the billows may roll, 
 But the power of Jesus their rage can control; 
 
 1 hough waves rise in anger, their tumult shall cease, 
 One word of His bidding shall hush them to peace. 
 
 Press forward and fear not; though trial be near, 
 The Lord is our refuge,—whom then shall we fear? 
 His staff is our comfort, our safe-guard His rod ; 
 
 Then let us be steadfast, and trust in our God. 
 
 Press forward and fear not ; be strong in the Lord, 
 
 In the power of His promise, the truth of His word ; 
 Through the sea and the desert our pathway may 
 tend, 
 
 But He who hath saved us will save to the end. 
 
 Press forward and fear not; we’ll speed on our way • 
 Why should we e’er shrink from our path in dismay? 
 ^ e tread but the road which our Leader has trod ; 
 hen let us press forward, and trust in our God. 
 
 1653. GUIDANCE. Divine: is always to be 
 trusted. 
 
 When we cannot see our way, 
 
 Let us trust and still obey ; 
 
 He who bids us forward go, 
 
 Cannot fail the way to show. 
 
 Though the sea be deep and wide, 
 
 Though a passage seem denied, # 
 
 Fearless let us still proceed, 
 
 Since the Lord vouchsafes to lead. 
 
 Though it seems the gloom of night, 
 Though we see no ray of light, 
 
 Since the Lord Himself is there, 
 
 Tis not meet that we should fear. 
 
 Night with Him is never night, 
 
 Where He is, there all is light; 
 
 When He calls us, why delay ? 
 
 They are happy who obey. 
 
 1654. GUIDANCE. Divine: sure and wise, 
 
 Is it a long way off? 
 
 Oh ! no, a few more years, 
 
 A few more bitter tears,— 
 
 We shall be there. 
 
 Sometimes the way seems long, 
 
 Our comforters all go, 
 
 Woe follows after woe, 
 
 Care after care. 
 
 Oh ! brethren dear, how weak, 
 
 How faint and weak we are ! 
 
 Yet Jesus leads us far 
 Through tangled ways 
 Into the very heart 
 Of this dark wilderness, 
 
 Where dangers thickest press, 
 
 And Satan strays. 
 
 But He is strong and wise, 
 
 And we, His children blind, 
 
 Must trust His thoughtful mind 
 And tender care. 
 
 So gentle is His love, 
 
 We may be sure that sight 
 Would show us all is right, 
 
 And answer’d prayer. 
 
 Tis no uncertain way 
 We tread, for Jesus still 
 Leads with unerring skill 
 Where’er we roam ; 
 
 And from the desert wild 
 Soon shall our path emerge, 
 
 And land us on the verge 
 Of our dear home.— E. IK. 
 
 i6 55 * GUIDANCE. Prayer for 
 
 Lead, kindly Light, amid th’ encircling gloom. 
 
 Lead Thou me on : 
 
 The night is dark, and I am far from home; 
 
 Lead Thou me on : 
 
 Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see 
 The distant scene; one step’s enough for me. 
 
GUIDANCE 
 
 3 20 
 
 GUIDANCE 
 
 I was not ever thus, nor pray’d, that Thou 
 Shouldst lead me on ; 
 
 I loved to choose and see my path ; but now 
 Lead Thou me on ! 
 
 I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears, 
 
 Pride ruled my will: Remember not past years ! 
 
 So long Thy Power has blest me, sure it still 
 Will lead me on 
 
 O’er moor and fen, o’er crag and torrent, till 
 The night is gone, 
 
 And with the morn those angel faces smile 
 
 Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile ! 
 
 y. II. Newman. 
 
 1656. GUIDANCE. Seeking 
 
 To what am I reserved ? Great God, 
 
 The counsel of Thy will display ; 
 
 Nor let me underneath the load 
 Of anxious doubt for ever stay. 
 
 Thou seest I cannot journey on 
 
 Till Thou the lingering cloud remove, 
 
 And make the destined action known, 
 
 And lead me by the fire of love. 
 
 My every choice, desire, design, 
 
 I now implicitly submit; 
 
 My will is fix’d to follow Thine, 
 
 And lies indifferent at Thy feet. 
 
 Loosed and detach’d, I cease from man ; 
 
 Opinions, names, are clean forgot; 
 
 This all my aim, and all my plan, 
 
 To do, and be—I know not what. 
 
 But wilt Thou not at last appear, 
 
 Make darkness light before my face, 
 
 And crooked straight, and doubtful clear, 
 
 And show, and shine on all my ways? 
 
 Who on Thine only truth depend, 
 
 Who Thee mine only Master own ; 
 
 To me Thou wilt Thy Spirit send, 
 
 And govern me Thyself alone. 
 
 Charles Wesley. 
 
 1657. GUIDANCE. Trust in Divine 
 
 Thus far the Lord has led us, in darkness and in 
 day, 
 
 Through all the varied stages of the narrow home¬ 
 ward way ; 
 
 Long since He took that journey, He trod that path 
 alone, 
 
 Its trials and its dangers full well Himself hath 
 known. 
 
 Thus far the Lord hath led us ; the promise has not 
 fail’d, 
 
 The enemy encounter’d oft has never quite prevail’d; 
 
 The shield of faith has turn’d aside, or quench’d each 
 fiery dart, 
 
 The Spirit’s sword in weakest hands has forced him 
 to depart. 
 
 Thus far the Lord hath led us ; the waters have been 
 high, 
 
 But yet in passing through them, we felt that He was 
 nigh. 
 
 A very present helper in troubles we have found, 
 
 His comforts most abounded when our sorrows did 
 abound. 
 
 Thus far the Lord hath led us ; our need hath been 
 supplied, 
 
 And mercy has encompass’d us about on every side ; 
 
 Still falls the daily manna, the pure rock-fountains 
 flow, 
 
 And many flowers of love and hope along the way- 
 side grow. 
 
 Thus far the Lord hath led us ; and will He now 
 forsake 
 
 The feeble ones whom for His own it pleased Him 
 to take ? 
 
 Oh, never, never! earthly friends may cold and 
 faithless prove, 
 
 But His is changeless pity and everlasting love. 
 
 Calmly we look behind us, on joys and sorrows past, 
 
 We know that all is mercy now, and shall be well at 
 last; 
 
 Calmly we look before us, —we fear no future ill, 
 
 Enough for safety and for peace, if Thoii art with us 
 still. 
 
 Yes, ‘ they that know Thy name, Lord, shall put 
 their trust in Thee,’ 
 
 While nothing in themselves but sin and helplessness 
 they see. 
 
 The race Thou hast appointed us, with patience we 
 can run, 
 
 Thou wilt perform unto the end the work Thou hast 
 begun. 
 
 1658. GUIDANCE. Trust in Divine 
 
 What though I toil upon the road 
 With bruised feet, 
 
 And burden’d with my weary load— 
 
 0 Am tempest-beat. 
 
 Doth not my faith His promise see 
 More true—more sweet—* He leadeth me ’ ? 
 
GUIDANCE 
 
 321 
 
 GUILT 
 
 § 
 
 What, that each day my weary sight 
 Its weakness learns, 
 
 When over steeps or mountain height 
 My life-path turns ? 
 
 Though weak and dimm’d my vision be, 
 ’Tis He discerns—‘ He leadeth me.’ 
 
 What matter, that through ways which I 
 Have never known 
 I fain must go, nor question why 
 
 This way is shown ? 
 
 Adown the darksome path I see 
 His love alone—' He leadeth me.’ 
 
 What if when He would safely hold 
 My trembling hand, 
 
 I fear to trust; my Faith grows cold ; 
 
 And e’en would stand 
 With doubts beset lest even He 
 Should fail? Ah no — ‘He leadeth me.’ 
 
 Ah well. What if some day I stand 
 The stream beside, 
 
 That hides us from Hereafter’s land 
 With mist-hid tide ? 
 
 I know in whom I trust, and He, 
 
 Through waters wide, safe leadeth me. 
 
 F. H. Converse. 
 
 I know not the way I am going, 
 
 But well do I know my Guide ; 
 
 With a child-like trust I give my hand 
 To the mighty Friend by my side. 
 
 The only thing that I say to Him, 
 
 As He takes it, is, ‘ Hold it fast, 
 
 Suffer me not to lose my way, 
 
 And bring me home at last. ’ 
 
 As when some helpless wanderer, 
 
 Alone in an unknown land, 
 
 Tells the guide his destined place of rest, 
 
 And leaves all else in his hand : 
 
 ’Tis home, ’tis home, that we wish to reach; 
 
 He who guides us may choose the way ; 
 Little we heed what path we take, 
 
 If nearer home each day. 
 
 1659. GUIDANCE : vouchsafed to Christ’s 
 servants. 
 
 O Thou who by a star didst guide 
 The wise men on their way, 
 
 Until it came and stood beside 
 The place where Jesus lay ; 
 
 Although by stars Thou dost not lead 
 Thy servants now below, 
 
 Thy Holy Spirit, when they need, 
 
 Will show them how to go. 
 
 As yet we know Thee but in part; 
 
 But still we trust Thy word, 
 
 That blessed are the pure in heart, 
 
 For they shall see the Lord. 
 
 O Saviour ! give us, then, Thy grace, 
 
 To make us pure in heart; 
 
 That we may see Thee face to face 
 Hereafter, as Thou art .—Neale. 
 
 1660. GUILT. Beginning of 
 
 Let no man trust the first false step 
 Of guilt; it hangs upon a precipice, 
 
 Whose steep descent in last perdition ends. 
 
 Young. 
 
 To what gulfs 
 
 A single deviation from the track 
 Of human duties leads even those who claim 
 The homage of mankind as their born due, 
 
 And find it till they forfeit it themselves. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 He who once sins, like him who slides on ice, 
 
 Goes swiftly down the slippery wavs of vice ; 
 Though conscience check him, yet, these rubs gone 
 o’er, 
 
 He glides on smoothly and looks back no more. 
 
 Juvenal. 
 
 1661. GUILT: cannot be concealed. 
 
 Guiltiness 
 
 Will speak though tongues were out of use. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 1662. GUILT. Effects of 
 
 The guilty mind 
 
 Debases the great image that it wears, 
 
 And levels us with brutes.— Havard. 
 
 1663. GUILT. Folly of incurring 
 
 Since thou hast far to go, bear not along 
 The clogging burthen of a guilty soul. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 He that acts unjustly, 
 
 Is the worst rebel to himself, and though now 
 Ambition’s trumpet and the drum of power 
 May drown the sound, yet conscience will, one day, 
 Speak louder to him.— Havard. 
 
 1664. GUILT. Penalties of 
 
 How guilt, once harbour’d in the conscious breast. 
 Intimidates the brave, degrades the great \—Johnson. 
 
 When men’s intents are wicked, their guilt haunts 
 them ; 
 
 But when they’re just, they’re arm’d, and nothing 
 daunts them. — Middleton. 
 
 21 
 
GUILT 
 
 322 
 
 HABITS 
 
 Such is the fate of guilt, to make slaves tools, 
 
 And then to make ’em masters—by our secrets. 
 
 Havard. 
 
 Oh what a state is guilt! how wild ! how wretched ! 
 When apprehension can form nought but fears, 
 
 And we distrust security herself.— Havard. 
 
 God hath yoked to guilt 
 Her pale tormentor—misery.— Bryant. 
 
 Guilt is the source of sorrow ; ’tis the fiend, 
 
 The avenging fiend, that follows us behind 
 
 With whips and stings ; the blest know none of this, 
 
 But rest in everlasting peace of mind, 
 
 And find the height of all their heaven is goodness. 
 
 Rowe. 
 
 1665. GUILT. Possibilities of 
 
 There’s nought so monstrous but the mind of man, 
 In some conditions, may be brought to approve ; 
 Theft, sacrilege, treason, and parricide, 
 
 When flattering opportunity enticed, 
 
 And desperation drove, have been committed 
 By those who once would start to hear them named. 
 
 Lillo. 
 
 1666. GUILT: registered in heaven. 
 
 But many a crime deem’d innocent on earth, 
 
 Is register’d in heaven, and these, no doubt, 
 Have each their record, with a curse annex’d. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 1667. GUILT. Signs of 
 
 He swears, but he is sick at heart; 
 
 He laughs, but he turns deadly pale ; 
 
 His restless eye and sudden start 
 These tell the dreadful tale 
 That will be told: it needs no words from thee, 
 
 Thou self-sold slave to guilt and misery. 
 
 Dana. 
 
 1668. GUILT. Terrors and torments of 
 
 What a state is guilt, 
 
 When everything alarms it l like a sentinel 
 Who sleeps upon his watch, it wakes in dread, 
 Ev’n at a breath of wind.— Havard. 
 
 ’Tis guilt alone 
 
 Like brain-sick phrenzy, in its feverish mood, 
 Fills the light air with visionary terrors, 
 
 And shapeless forms of fear.— Francis. 
 
 Money answers everything 
 But a guilty conscience’ sting, 
 
 Whose immortal torments are 
 Quite unsupportable to bear. 
 
 Nor the silver of Peru, 
 
 Nor the wealth the East doth show, 
 
 Nor the softest bed of down, 
 
 Nor the jewels of a crown, 
 
 Can give unto the mind a power 
 
 To bear its twinges half an hour.— Wolcott. 
 
 And oh ! that pang where more than madness lies ! 
 The worm that will not sleep, and never dies ; 
 Thought of the gloomy day and ghastly night, 
 
 That dreads the darkness, and yet loathes the light ; 
 That winds around and tears the quivering heart: 
 
 Ah ! wherefore not consume it and depart. Byron. 
 
 From the body of one guilty deed 
 A thousand ghostly fears and haunting thoughts 
 proceed. — Wordsworth. 
 
 1669. GUILT. Timidity of 
 
 Guilt is a timorous thing, ere perpetration : 
 Despair alone makes guilty men be bold. 
 
 Coleridge. 
 
 1670. HABIT. Slaves of 
 
 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. 
 
 To follow foolish precedents, and wink 
 With both our eyes, is easier than to think. 
 
 And such an age as ours balks no expense, 
 
 Except of caution and of common sense. Coi.vper. 
 
 1671. HABITS. Change of 
 
 Habitual evils change not on a sudden, 
 
 But many days must pass and many sorrows ; 
 Conscious remorse and anguish must be felt, 
 
 To curb desire, to break the stubborn will, 
 
 And work a second nature in the soul, 
 
 Ere Virtue can resume the place she lost. Rowe. 
 
 1672. HABITS. Evil 
 
 When at first from virtue’s path we stray 
 How shrinks the feeble heart with sad dismay ! 
 More bold at length, by powerful habit led, 
 Careless and sear’d the dreary wild we tiead , 
 Behold the gaping gulf of sin with scorn, 
 
 And plunging deep, to endless death are borne. 
 
 J. Scott. 
 
 1673. HABITS. Growth of 
 
 How use doth breed a habit in a man ! 
 
 This shadowy desert, unfrequented woods, 
 
 I better brook than flourishing peopled towns. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 We are not worst at once ; the course of evil 
 Begins so slowly, and from such slight source, 
 
HABITS 
 
 323 
 
 HAPPINESS 
 
 An infant’s hand might stop the breach with clay; 
 But let the stream grow wider, and Philosophy, 
 Ay, and Religion too, may strive in vain 
 To stem the headlong current. 
 
 1674. HABITS. Holy 
 
 Slowly fashion’d, link by link, 
 
 Slowly waxing strong. 
 
 Till the spirit never shrink, 
 
 Save from touch of wrong. 
 
 Holy habits are thy wealth, 
 
 Golden pleasant chains ; 
 
 Passing earth’s prime blessing—health. 
 Endless, priceless gains. 
 
 Holy habits give thee place 
 With the noblest, best, 
 
 All most god-like, of thy race, 
 
 And with seraphs blest. 
 
 Holy habits are thy joy, 
 
 Wisdom’s pleasant ways, 
 
 Yielding good without alloy, 
 
 Lengthening, too, thy days. 
 
 Seek them, Christian, night and morn, 
 
 Seek them noon and even ; 
 
 Seek them till thy soul be born 
 Without stains—in heaven.— Davis. 
 
 1675* HAIRS. Grey 
 
 These hairs of age are messengers, 
 
 Which bid me fast, repent, and pray; 
 
 They be of death the harbingers 
 That do prepare and dress the way: 
 
 Wherefore I joy that you may see 
 
 Upon my head such hair to be.—Lord Vaux. 
 
 The great in honour are not always wise, 
 
 Nor judgment under silver tresses lies.— Sandys. 
 
 1676. HALF-VIEWS: deceptive. 
 
 Look up ! the moon to-night 
 Shows us but half her light, 
 
 And yet we know her round and fair. 
 
 At other things how oft 
 We, in our blindness, scoff’d, 
 
 Because we saw not what was there ! 
 
 1677. HAND. The 
 
 The Hand,—what wondrous Wisdom plann’d 
 This instrument so near divine ! 
 
 How impotent, without the Hand, 
 
 Proud Reason’s light would shine ! 
 
 Invention might her power apply, 
 
 And Genius see the forms of heaven,— 
 
 And firm Resolve his strength might try ;— 
 
 But vain the Will, the Soul, the Eye, 
 Unquarried would the marble lie. 
 
 The oak and cedar flout the sky, 
 
 Had not the hand been given !— Mrs Hale. 
 
 1678. HAPPINESS. Aiming for 
 
 To aim at thine own happiness, is an end idolatrous 
 and evil; 
 
 In earth, yea, in heaven, if thou seek it for thyself, 
 seeking thou shalt not find. 
 
 Happiness is a roadside flower, growing on the high¬ 
 ways of Usefulness ; 
 
 Pluck d, it shall wither in thy hand ; pass’d by, it is 
 a fragrance to thy spirit; 
 
 Love not thine own soul, regard not thine own weal, 
 Trample the thyme beneath thy feet; be useful, and 
 be happy.— Tupper. 
 
 1679. HAPPINESS . by whom it is found. 
 
 How happy is he, bom or taught, 
 
 That serveth not another’s will; 
 
 Whose armour is his honest thought. 
 
 And simple truth his highest skill; 
 
 Whose passions not his masters are ; 
 
 Whose soul is still prepared for death ; 
 
 Not tied unto the world with care 
 Of princes’ ear, or vulgar breath ; 
 
 Who hath his life from rumours freed ; 
 
 Whose conscience is his strong retreat; 
 
 Whose state can neither flatterers feed. 
 
 Nor ruin make oppressors great; 
 
 Who envies none whom chance doth raise, 
 
 Or vice : who never understood 
 How deepest wounds are given with praise, 
 
 Nor rules of state, but rules of good ; 
 
 W ho God doth late and early pray 
 More of His grace than gifts to lend ; 
 
 And entertains the harmless day 
 With a chosen book, or friend. 
 
 This man is free from servile bands 
 Of hope to rise, or fear to fall ; 
 
 Lord of himself, though not of lands, 
 
 And having nothing, yet hath all— Wot ton. 
 
 Happy the man, and happy he alone, 
 
 He who can call to-day his own: 
 
 He who secure within can say, 
 
 To-morrow do thy worst, for I have lived to-day. 
 
 Drydert. 
 
happiness 
 
 324 
 
 HAPPINESS 
 
 1680. HAPPINESS : by whom it is found. 
 
 This earthly phantom, Happiness, what is she ? 
 
 Of whom we hear so much and see so little, 
 
 Whose promises are made but to be broken, 
 
 Yet constantly and eagerly believed. 
 
 Anticipation is her chosen herald, 
 
 And Disappointment is her close companion : 
 
 The first addresses our imagination 
 That would believe : the latter scornful frowns 
 On our experience that must believe. 
 
 In self-denying wisdom, Socrates— 
 
 In pleasure, Aristippus—follow d her, 
 
 Yet found her not. Warn’d by their failure, 
 
 The Stoic thought by slandering to obtain her 
 By shunning her to win her—all in vain. 
 
 She is deceitful as the dreaded calm 
 Foreboding hurricanes ; and fair she is 
 As is the smiling daughter of the storm, 
 
 The rainbow ; but like the desert mirage, 
 
 She tantalizes us with rosy pictures 
 That distance paints, and nearer view destroys. 
 
 Yet often she is found when all unsought, 
 
 And often, unexpected, visits us, 
 
 While those who seek for her with closest search 
 Rail—because they seek her where she is not. 
 
 Rapt Antony in reckless love pursued her, 
 
 Brutus in glory, Caesar in dominion: 
 
 The first found shame, the next satiety, 
 
 The last ingratitude—and all destruction. 
 
 To some she is more kind, but not less cruel; 
 
 She hands them her full cup, and then they drink 
 To stupefaction ; till they, nodding, doubt 
 If they be men—like aggrandizing Philip ; 
 
 Or dream that they are gods—like Alexander. 
 
 On some she smiles, as on Napoleon, 
 
 With aspect more bewitching than the sky 
 Of radiant Italy ; but ’tis to frown 
 More terribly, and by one short caress 
 To multiply the pangs of separation. 
 
 Revenge, Ambition, Avarice, and Love 
 All seek her, but she will not come to them 
 Because she does not know them ; but she sends 
 Her messengers attendant. To Revenge 
 She sends Remorse, and Wealth to Avarice ; 
 
 To Ambition Power, and Jealousy to Love. 
 
 But what are these but names for Disappointment ? 
 
 None bid so high for her as crowned kings ; 
 
 Few more willing, none more able, to obtain 
 Her favours at the fullest price, but she 
 Has less respect for kings than for their subjects : 
 She mocks them with the shadow of a visit, 
 
 By sending to them all her equipage, 
 
 Her pomp and train, but comes not near herself. 
 
 Then what detains her? She is meekly serving 
 The man of conscience pure and soul content, 
 
 Who ‘ places not his trust in men or princes,’ 
 
 But has laid his treasures in the Eternal World, 
 
 ‘ Where moth nor rust corrupts, nor thieves break 
 through and steal.’— D. C. Macdonald. 
 
 1681. HAPPINESS. Caution of 
 
 How sad a sight is human happiness, 
 
 To those whose thought can pierce beyond an hour ! 
 Know, smiler ! at thy peril thou art pleased . 
 
 Thy pleasure is the promise of thy pain. 
 
 Is Heaven tremendous in its frowns? Most sure ; 
 And in its favours formidable too: 
 
 Its favours here are trials, not rewards ; 
 
 A call to duty, not discharge from care ; 
 
 And should alarm us full as much as woes ; 
 
 Awake us to their cause and consequence ; 
 
 O’er our scann’d conduct give a jealous eye, 
 
 And make us tremble, weigh’d with our deseit; 
 
 I Awe nature’s tumult, and chastise her joys, 
 
 Lest, while we clasp, we kill them : nay, invert 
 To worse than simple misery their charms. 
 
 Revolted joys, like foes in civil war, 
 
 Like bosom friendships to resentment sour’d, 
 
 With rage envenom’d rise against our peace. 
 
 Beware what earth calls happiness : beware 
 All joys but joys that never can expire. 
 
 Who builds on less than an immortal base, 
 
 Fond as he seems, condemns his joys to death. 
 
 Young. 
 
 1682. HAPPINESS. Christian 
 
 Long did I toil, and knew no earthly rest; 
 
 Ear did I rove, and found no certain home ; 
 
 At last I sought them in His sheltering breast, 
 
 Who spreads His arms and bids the weary come. 
 With Him I found a home, a rest divine ; 
 
 And I since then am His, and He is mine. 
 
 Yes, He is mine ! and nought of earthly things, 
 
 Not all the charms of pleasure, wealth, or power, 
 The fame of heroes, or the pomp of kings, 
 
 Could tempt me to forego His love an hour. 
 
 < Go, worthless world,’ I cry, ‘ with all that’s thine ; 
 Go ! I my Saviour’s am, and He is mine. 
 
 The good I have is from His store supplied ; 
 
 The ill is only what He deems the best ; 
 
 With Him my Friend, I’m rich with nought beside, 
 And poor without Him, though of all possess d. 
 Changes may come,—I take, or I resign,— 
 Content while I am His, while He is mine. 
 
 Whate’er may change, in Him no change is seen . 
 
 A glorious Sun that wanes not, nor declines, 
 
HAPPINESS 
 
 325 
 
 HAPPINESS 
 
 Above the clouds and storms He walks serene, 
 
 And sweetly on His people’s darkness shines. 
 
 All may depart,—I fret not, nor repine, 
 
 While I my Saviour’s am, while He is mine. 
 
 Lyte. 
 
 1683. HAPPINESS. Conditions of 
 
 Man’s greatest strength is shown in standing still. . . 
 The first sure symptom of a mind in health 
 Is rest of heart, and pleasure felt at home. 
 
 False pleasure from abroad her joys imports : 
 
 Rich from within, and self-sustain’d, the true, 
 
 The true is fix’d and solid as a rock: 
 
 Slippery the false, and tossing as the wave. 
 
 This, a wild wanderer on earth, like Cain : 
 
 That, like the fabled self-enamour’d boy, 
 Home-contemplation her supreme delight ; 
 
 She dreads an interruption from without, 
 
 Smit with her own condition ; and the more 
 Intense she gazes, still it charms the more. 
 
 No man is happy, till he thinks, on earth 
 There breathes not a more happy than himself. . . . 
 Then, envy dies, and love o’erflows on all; 
 
 And love o’erflowing makes an angel here.— Young. 
 
 1684. HAPPINESS : denied to the bad. 
 
 Grant the bad what happiness they would, 
 
 One they must want, which is, to pass for good. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 1685. HAPPINESS. Domestic 
 
 Domestic Happiness, thou only bliss 
 Of Paradise that has survived the fall ] 
 
 Though few now taste thee unimpair’d and pure, 
 
 Or, tasting, long enjoy thee ! too infirm, 
 
 Or too incautious, to preserve thy sweets 
 Unmix’d with drops of bitter, which neglect 
 Or temper sheds into thy crystal cup. 
 
 Thou art the nurse of Virtue ; in thine arms 
 She smiles, appearing, as in truth she is, 
 
 Heaven-born, and destined to the skies again. 
 
 . Cowper. 
 
 1686. PIAPPINESS. Enduring 
 
 That happiness does still the longest thrive 
 Where joys and grief have turns alternative. 
 
 Herrick. 
 
 1687. PIAPPINESS. Example of 
 
 He is the happy man whose life e’en now 
 Shows somewhat of that happier life to come; 
 
 Who, doom’d to an obscure but tranquil state, 
 
 Is pleased with it, and were he free to choose, 
 
 V ould make his fate his choice ; whom peace the 
 fruit 
 
 Of virtue, and whom virtue fruit of faith. 
 
 Prepare for happiness ; bespeak him one 
 Content indeed to sojourn while he must 
 Below the skies, but having there his home. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 1688. HAPPINESS. Excessive 
 
 My plenteous joys, 
 
 Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves 
 In drops of sorrow. — Shakespeare. 
 
 1689. HAPPINESS. Gauge of 
 
 The Greeks said grandly, in their tragic phrase, 
 
 ‘Let no one be call’d happy till his death.’ 
 
 To which I add, Let no one till his death 
 Be call’d unhappy. Measure not the work 
 Until the day’s out, and the labour done ; 
 
 Then bring your gauges. If the day’s work’s scant, 
 Why, call it scant; affect no compromise ; 
 
 And, in that we have nobly striven, at least 
 Deal with us nobly, women though we be, 
 
 And honour us with truth, if not with praise. 
 
 E. B. Browning. 
 
 1690. HAPPINESS. Haunts of 
 
 True Happiness had no localities, 
 
 No tones provincial, no peculiar garb. 
 
 Where duty went, she went, with justice went, 
 And went with meekness, charity, and love. 
 Where’er a tear was dried, a wounded heart 
 Bound up, a bruised spirit with the dew 
 Of sympathy anointed, or a pang 
 Of honest suffering soothed, or injury 
 Repeated oft, as oft by love forgiven ; 
 
 Where’er an evil passion was subdued, 
 
 Or virtue’s feeble embers fann’d ; where’er 
 A sin was heartily abjured and left; 
 
 Where’er a pious act was done, or breathed 
 A pious prayer, or wish’d a pious wish,— 
 
 There was a high and holy place, a spot 
 Of sacred light, a most religious fane, 
 
 Where Happiness, descending, sat and smiled. 
 
 Pollok. 
 
 1691. HAPPINESS. Hours of 
 
 From the sad years of life 
 We sometimes do short hours, yea, minutes, strike, 
 Keen, blissful, bright, never to be forgotten, 
 
 Which, through the dreary gloom of time o’erpast, 
 Shine like fair sunny spots on a wild waste. 
 
 Joanna Bail lie. 
 
 1692. HAPPINESS : how it is to be won. 
 
 I SEE there’s no man but may make his paradise, 
 
 And it is nothing but his love and dotage 
 
HAPPINESS 
 
 326 
 
 HAPPINESS 
 
 Upon the world’s foul joys, that keeps him out on’t; 
 For he that lives retired in mind and spirit 
 Is still in paradise.— Beaumont and Fletcher. 
 
 The happy have whole days, and those they use ; 
 Th’ unhappy have but hours, and those they lose. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 Know, all the good that individuals find, 
 
 Or God and nature meant to mere mankind, 
 Reason’s whole pleasure, all the joys of sense, 
 
 Lie in three words, health, peace, and competence. 
 But health consists with temperance alone ; 
 
 And peace, O Virtue ! peace is all thy own. 
 
 The good or bad the gifts of fortune gain ; 
 
 But these less taste them, as they worse obtain. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 The mind that would be happy must be great.... 
 Great in its wishes—great in its surveys. 
 
 Extended views a narrow mind extend, 
 
 Push out its corrugate, expansive make, 
 
 Which, ere long, more than planets shall embrace. 
 A man of compass makes a man of worth. . . . 
 Divine contemplate, and become divine. 
 
 As man was made for glory and for bliss, 
 
 All littleness is an approach to woe. . . . 
 
 Open thy bosom, set thy wishes wide, 
 
 And let in manhood—let in happiness ; 
 
 Admit the boundless theatre of thought 
 
 From nothing up to God . . . which makes a man ! 
 
 Young. 
 
 No man is bless’d by accident or guess: 
 
 True wisdom is the price of happiness. 
 
 Young. 
 
 The sweetest bird builds near the ground, 
 
 The loveliest flower springs low ; 
 
 And we must stoop for happiness 
 
 If we its worth would know.— Swain. 
 
 Rapture is not the aim of man ; in bowers 
 The serpent hides his venom, and the sting 
 Of the dread insect lurks in fairest flowers. 
 
 We were not made to wander on the wing ; 
 But if we would be happy, we must bring 
 Our buoy’d hearts to a plain and simple school. 
 
 Percival. 
 
 True happiness (if understood) 
 
 Consists alone in doing good. Somervile. 
 
 1693. HAPPINESS : in what it consists. 
 
 We toss and turn about our feverish will, 
 When all our ease must come by lying still; 
 For all the happiness mankind can gain, 
 
 Is not in pleasure, but in rest from pain. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 No happiness can be where is no rest; 
 
 Th’ unknown, untalk’d-of man is only blest. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 1694. HAPPINESS. King’s idea of 
 
 King Henry. O God ! methinks it were a happy 
 life, 
 
 To be no better than a homely swain ; 
 
 To sit upon a hill, as I do now, 
 
 To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, 
 
 Thereby to see the minutes how they run ; 
 
 How many make the hour full complete ; 
 
 How many hours bring about the day ; 
 
 How many days will finish up the year ; 
 
 How many years a mortal man may live. 
 
 When this is known, then to divide the times,— 
 
 So many hours must I tend my flock ; 
 
 So many hours must I take my rest; 
 
 So many hours must I contemplate ; 
 
 So many hours must I sport myself; 
 
 So many days my ewes have been with young ; 
 
 So many weeks ere the poor fools will yean ; 
 
 So many years ere I shall shear the fleece: 
 
 So minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years, 
 Pass’d over to the end they were created, 
 
 Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave. 
 
 Ah, what a life were this ! how sweet! how lovely ! 
 Gives not the hawthorn bush a sweeter shade 
 To shepherds, looking on their silly sheep, 
 
 Than doth a rich embroider’d canopy 
 To kings that fear their subjects’ treachery ? 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 1695. HAPPINESS : more precious than gold. 
 
 Can gold calm passion, or make reason thine r 
 Can we dig peace or wisdom from the mine ? 
 Wisdom to gold prefer ; for ’tis much less 
 To make our fortune than our happiness. — Young. 
 
 1696. HAPPINESS : never found on earth. 
 
 Happiness, object of that waking dream • 
 
 Which we call life, mistaking ; fugitive theme 
 Of my pursuing verse, ideal shade, 
 
 Notional good, by fancy only made.— Prior. 
 
 We happiness pursue ; we fly from pain ; 
 
 Yet the pursuit, and yet the flight, is vain : 
 
 And while poor nature labours to be blest, 
 
 By day by pleasure, and by night with rest, 
 Some stronger power eludes our sickly will, 
 Dashing our rising hopes with certain ill, 
 
 And makes us, with reflective trouble, see 
 
 That all is destined which we fancy free. 
 
 Prior. 
 
HAPPINESS 
 
 327 
 
 HAPPINESS 
 
 It is ever thus with happiness: 
 
 It is the gay to-morrow of the mind 
 That never comes.— Proctor. 
 
 There comes 
 
 For ever something between us and what 
 We deem our happiness.— Byron. 
 
 True happiness is not the growth of earth ; 
 
 The soil is fruitless if you seek it there ; 
 
 ’Tis an exotic of celestial birth, 
 
 And never blooms but in celestial air. 
 
 Sweet plant of Paradise ! its seeds are sown 
 In here and there a breast of heavenly mould ; 
 It rises slow and buds, but ne’er was known 
 To blossom here—the climate is too cold. 
 
 Sheridan. 
 
 1697. HAPPINESS : not necessarily the portion 
 
 of the gifted. 
 
 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 fail’d 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 Hemans. 
 
 \ 
 
 1698. HAPPINESS : outlived. 
 
 They live too long, who happiness outlive: 
 
 For life and death are things indifferent; 
 
 Each to be chose, as either brings content. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 1699. HAPPINESS. Price of 
 
 How cheap 
 
 Is genuine happiness, and yet how dearly 
 Do we all pay for its base counterfeit ! 
 
 We fancy wants, which to supply we dare 
 Danger and death, enduring the privation 
 Of all free nature offers in her bounty, 
 
 To attain that, which, in its full fruition, 
 
 Brings but satiety. The poorest man 
 May taste of nature in her element, 
 
 Pure, wholesome, never cloying ; while the richest, 
 From the same stores, does but elaborate 
 A pungent dish of well-concocted poison.— Barker. 
 
 1700. HAPPINESS. Quest of 
 
 Tell me, ye winged winds, 
 
 That round my pathway roar, 
 
 Do ye not know some spot 
 
 Where mortals weep no more ? 
 
 Some lone and pleasant dell, 
 
 Some valley in the west, 
 
 Where, free from toil and pain, 
 
 The weary soul may rest ? 
 
 The loud wind dwindled to a whisper low, 
 
 And sigh’d for pity as it answer’d,—‘No.’ 
 
 Tell me, thou mighty deep, 
 
 Whose billows round me play, 
 
 Know’st thou some favoured spot, 
 
 Some island far away, 
 
 Where weary man may find 
 The bliss for which he sighs,— 
 
 Where sorrow never lives, 
 
 And friendship never dies ? 
 
 The loud waves, rolling in perpetual flow, 
 
 Stopp’d for a while, and sigh’d to answer,—‘No.’ 
 
 And thou, serenest moon, 
 
 That, with such lovely face, 
 
 Dost look upon the earth, 
 
 Asleep in night’s embrace ; 
 
 Tell me, in all thy round 
 
 Hast thou not seen some spot 
 Where miserable man 
 May find a happier lot ? 
 
 Behind a cloud the moon withdrew in woe, 
 
 And a voice, sweet but sad, responded, — ‘No.’ 
 
 Tell me, my secret soul, 
 
 Oh, tell me, Hope and Faith, 
 
 Is there no resting-place 
 
 From sorrow, sin, and death? 
 
 Is there no happy spot 
 
 Where mortals may be bless’d, 
 
 Where grief may find a balm, 
 
 And weariness a rest? 
 
 Faith, Hope, and Love, best boons to mortals given, 
 Waved their bright wings, and whisper’d—‘ Yes, in 
 heaven ! ’— Mackay. 
 
 1701. HAPPINESS. Quest of 
 
 Our aim is happiness ; ’tis yours, ’tis mine, 
 
 He said, ’tis the pursuit of all that live: 
 
 Yet few attain it, if ’twas e’er attain’d. 
 
 But they the widest wander from the mark, 
 
 Who through the flowery path of sauntering joy 
 Seek this coy goddess ; that from stage to stage 
 Invites us still, but shifts as we pursue. 
 
 Armstrong. 
 
 O vain to seek delight in earthly thing ! 
 
 But most in courts where proud ambition towers. 
 
 Shenstone. 
 
 1702. HAPPINESS: soon leaves us. 
 
 Happiness is a stranger to mankind, 
 
 And, like to a forced motion, it is ever 
 
HAPPINESS 
 
 328 
 
 HAPPINESS 
 
 Strongest at the beginning ; then languishing 
 With time, grows weary of our company. 
 
 Tuke. 
 
 1703. HAPPINESS: springs from within. 
 
 All the good we have rests in the mind; 
 
 By whose proportions only we redeem 
 Our thoughts from out confusion, and do find 
 The measure of ourselves, and of our powers; 
 And that all happiness remains confined 
 Within the kingdom of this breast of ours. 
 
 Daniel. 
 
 If solid happiness we prize, 
 
 Within our breast this jewel lies, 
 
 And they are fools who roam: 
 
 The world has nothing to bestow ; 
 
 From our own selves our joys must flow, 
 And that dear hut—our home.— Cotton. 
 
 E’en not all these, in one rich lot combined, 
 
 Can make the happy man, without the mind ; 
 Where Judgment sits, clear-sighted, and surveys 
 The chain of reason with unerring gaze ; 
 
 Where Fancy lives, and to the brightening eyes 
 His fairest scenes and bolder figures rise ; 
 
 Where social Love exerts her soft command, 
 
 And plays the passions with a tender hand ; 
 Whence every virtue flows, in rival strife, 
 
 And all the moral harmony of life.— Thomson. 
 
 Ah, yes, Philosopher, thy creed is true ! 
 
 ’Tis our own eyes that give the rainbow’s hue ; 
 What we call MATTER in this outer earth, 
 
 Takes from our senses, those warm dupes, its birth. 
 How fair, to sinless Adam, Eden smiled ! 
 
 But sin brought tears, and Eden was a wild ! 
 
 Man’s soul is as an everlasting dream, 
 
 Glassing life’s fictions on a phantom stream: 
 To-day, in glory all the world is clad— 
 
 Wherefore, O Man ?—because thy heart is glad ! 
 To-morrow, and the self-same scene survey— 
 
 The same ! Oh ! no—the pomp hath pass’d away ! 
 Wherefore the change ? Within, go ask reply— 
 Thy heart hath given its winter to the sky ! 
 
 Vainly the world revolves upon its pole ; 
 
 Light—Darkness—Seasons—these are in the soul! 
 
 Bulwer Lytton. 
 
 1704- HAPPINESS. Theories of 
 
 O HAPPINESS ! our being’s end and aim ! 
 
 Good, pleasure, ease, content! whate’er thy name; 
 That something still which prompts the eternal sigh 
 For which we bear to live or dare to die, 
 
 Which still so near us, yet beyond us lies, 
 
 O erlook’d, seen double, by the fool, and wise. 
 
 Plant of celestial seed ! if dropp’d below, 
 
 Say, in what mortal soil thou deign’st to grow ? 
 
 Fair opening to some court’s propitious shrine, 
 
 Or deep with diamonds in the flaming mine ? 
 Twined with the wreaths Parnassian laurels yield, 
 
 Or reap’d in iron harvests of the field ? 
 
 Where grows?—where grows it not? If vain our 
 toil, 
 
 We ought to blame the culture, not the soil: 
 
 Fix’d to no spot is happiness sincere, 
 
 ’Tis nowhere to be found, or everywhere: 
 
 ’Tis never to be bought, but always free. 
 
 Ask of the learn’d the way ? The learn’d are 
 blind ; 
 
 This bids to serve, and that to shun mankind ; 
 
 Some place the bliss in action, some in ease, 
 
 Those call it pleasure, and contentment these : 
 
 Some, sunk to beasts, find pleasure end in pain ; 
 Some, swell’d to gods, confess even virtue vain ! 
 
 Or, indolent, to each extreme they fall— 
 
 To trust in everything, or doubt of all. 
 
 Who thus define it, say they more or less 
 Than this, that happiness is happiness? 
 
 Take nature’s path, and mad opinion’s leave ; 
 
 All states can reach it, and all heads conceive; 
 Obvious her goods, in no extreme they dwell; 
 
 There needs but thinking right and meaning well; 
 And mourn our various portions as we please, 
 
 Equal is common sense and common ease.— Pope. 
 
 1705. HAPPINESS. Trustful 
 
 Through the love of God our Saviour 
 All will be well; 
 
 Free and changeless is His favour ; 
 
 All, all is well! 
 
 Precious is the blood that heal’d us, 
 
 Perfect is the grace that seal’d us, 
 
 Strong the Hand stretch’d forth to shield us; 
 
 All must be well! 
 
 Though we pass through tribulation, 
 
 All will be well; 
 
 Ours is such a full salvation, 
 
 All, all is well! 
 
 Happy, still in God abiding, 
 
 Holy, through the Spirit’s guiding ; 
 
 All must be well! 
 
 We expect a bright to-morrow, 
 
 All will be well; 
 
 Faith can sing through days of sorrow, 
 
 All, all is well! 
 
 On our Father’s love relying, 
 
 Jesus every need supplying, 
 
 Or in living, or in dying, 
 
 All must be well !— Mary Bowly. 
 
HAPPINESS 
 
 329 
 
 HAPVEST 
 
 1706. HAPPINESS : uncertain. 
 
 Happy are those, 
 
 That knowing in their births they are subject to 
 Uncertain change, are still prepared and arm’d 
 For either fortune : a rare principle, 
 
 And with much labour learn’d in wisdom’s school. 
 
 Massinger. 
 
 What thing so good which not some harm may 
 bring ? 
 
 E’en to be happy is a dangerous thing. 
 
 Earl of Stirling. 
 
 Over all men hangs a doubtful fate : 
 
 One gains by what another is bereft; 
 
 The frugal deities have only left 
 A common bank of happiness below, 
 
 Maintain’d, like nature, by an ebb and flow. 
 
 Howard. 
 
 . But no frail man, however great or high, 
 
 Can be concluded blest before he die.— Addison. 
 
 1707. HAPPINESS. Unexpected 
 
 ’Tis with our souls 
 
 As with our eyes, that after a long darkness 
 Are dazzled at th’ approach of sudden light; 
 When in the midst of fears we are surprised 
 With unexpected happiness, the first 
 Degrees of joy are mere astonishment. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 1708. HAPPINESS. Virtue and 
 
 Know then this truth (enough for man to know), 
 
 ‘ Virtue alone is happiness below ; ’ 
 
 The only point where human bliss stands still, 
 
 And tastes the good without the fall to ill; 
 
 Where only merit constant pay receives ; 
 
 Is bless’d in what it takes and what it gives ; 
 
 The joy unequall’d if its end it gain, 
 
 And, if it lose, attended with no pain ; 
 
 Without satiety, though e’er so bless’d, 
 
 And but more relish’d as the more distress’d : 
 
 The broadest mirth unfeeling folly wears, 
 
 Less pleasing far than virtue’s very tears : 
 
 Good from each object, from each place acquired, 
 For ever exercised, yet never tired : 
 
 Never elated while one man’s oppress’d ; 
 
 Never dejected while another’s bless’d : 
 
 And where no wants, no wishes can remain, 
 
 Since but to wish more virtue is to gain. 
 
 See the sole bliss Heaven could on all bestow ! 
 Which who but feels can taste, but thinks can know: 
 Yet poor with fortune, and with learning blind, 
 
 The bad must miss, the good untaught will find : 
 
 Slave to no sect, who takes no private road, 
 
 But looks through nature up to nature’s God: 
 Pursues that chain which links th’ immense design, 
 Joins heaven and earth, and mortal and divine ; 
 Sees that no being any bliss can know, 
 
 But touches some above and some below ; 
 
 Learns from this union of the rising whole 
 The first, last purpose of the human soul. 
 
 And knows where faith, law, morals, all began, 
 
 All end, in love of God and love of man. 
 
 For him alone hope leads from goal to goal, 
 
 And opens still and opens on his soul, 
 
 Till lengthen’d on to faith, and unconfined, 
 
 It pours the bliss that fills up all the mind. 
 
 Pie sees why nature plants in man alone 
 
 Hope of known bliss, and faith in bliss unknown : 
 
 (Nature, whose dictates to no other kind 
 
 Are given in vain, but what they seek they find.) 
 
 Wise is her present; she connects in this 
 
 His greatest virtue with his greatest bliss ; 
 
 At once his own bright prospect to be blest, 
 
 And strongest motive to assist the rest. 
 
 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 world of reason, life, and sense, 
 In one close system of benevolence : 
 
 Happier as kinder, in whate’er degree, 
 
 And height of bliss but height of charity.— Pope. 
 
 1709. HARVEST. Spiritual 
 
 The harvest dawn is near, 
 
 The year delays not long ; 
 
 And he who sows with many a tear 
 Shall reap with many a song. 
 
 Sad to his toil he goes, 
 
 His seed with weeping leaves; 
 
 But he shall come at twilight’s close, 
 
 And bring his golden sheaves.— Burgess. 
 
 1710. HARVEST: Thanksgiving Hymn. 
 
 Lord of the harvest! Thee we hail ; 
 
 Thine ancient promise doth not fail ; 
 
 The varying seasons haste their round, 
 
 With goodness all our years are crown’d : 
 
 Our thanks we pay 
 This holy day ; 
 
 Oh let our hearts in tune be found ! 
 
 If Spring doth wake the song of mirth, 
 
 If Summer warms the fruitful earth ; 
 
HARVEST 
 
 330 
 
 HARVEST 
 
 When Winter sweeps the naked plain, 
 
 Or Autumn yields its ripen’d grain ; 
 
 Still do we sing 
 To Thee, our King; 
 
 Through all their changes Thou dost reign. 
 
 But chiefly when Thy liberal hand 
 Scatters new plenty o’er the land, 
 
 When sounds of music fill the air, 
 
 As homeward all their treasures bear ; 
 
 We too will raise 
 Our hymn of praise, 
 
 For we Thy common bounties share. 
 
 Lord of the harvest! all is Thine ! 
 
 The rains that fall, the suns that shine, 
 
 The seed once hidden in the ground ! 
 
 The skill that makes our fruits abound ! 
 
 New, every year, 
 
 Thy gifts appear ; 
 
 New praises from our lips shall sound ! 
 
 Gurney. 
 
 I7 11 - HARVEST : Thanksgiving Hymn. 
 
 God of the swiftly-rolling year ! 
 
 Thy bounties lie on every hand ; 
 
 How rich Thy varied gifts appear 
 
 While ’neath the Autumn skies we stand. 
 With countless sheaves of golden grain 
 The joyful reapers strew the plain. 
 
 Pensile from every drooping bough, 
 
 Fair in the sunlight’s ruddy glow, 
 
 The ripening fruits are bending now : 
 
 From lavish Hand our blessings flow. 
 
 Through day and night, ’mid heat and cold, 
 
 Still swells the marvellous sum untold. 
 
 Spring sent a thrill of dawning life 
 
 Through every root and branch and spray ; 
 
 All Nature woke with beauty rife, 
 
 As to a new-created day. 
 
 Song fill’d the air,—from every tree 
 Were wafted strains of melody. 
 
 The flowers sprang blooming at our feet, 
 
 Earth’s fruits matured ’neath sun and shower ; 
 With thankful heart our lips repeat 
 God’s goodness to this latest hour. 
 
 Oh lift to Him each voice in praise, 
 
 Whose bounteous Love hath crown’d our days ! 
 
 E. V. S. 
 
 1712. HARVEST: Thanksgiving Hymn. 
 
 The God of harvest praise, 
 
 In loud thanksgiving raise 
 Hand, heart, and voice ; 
 
 The valleys laugh and sing, 
 
 Forests and mountains ring, 
 
 The plains their tribute bring, 
 
 The streams rejoice. 
 
 Garden and orchard ground 
 Autumnal fruits have crown’d, 
 
 The vintage glows ; 
 
 Here plenty pours her horn, 
 
 There the full tide of corn, 
 
 Sway’d by the breath of morn, 
 
 The land o’erflows. 
 
 The wind, the rain, the sun, 
 
 Their genial work have done ;— 
 Would’st thou be fed? 
 
 Man to thy labour bow, 
 
 Thrust in the sickle now, 
 
 Reap where thou once didst plough— 
 God sends thee bread. 
 
 Thy few seeds scatter’d wide, 
 
 His hand hath multiplied ; 
 
 Here thou ma/st find 
 Christ’s miracle renew’d, 
 
 With self-producing food 
 He feeds a multitude— 
 
 He feeds mankind. 
 
 The God of harvest praise ; 
 
 Hands, hearts, and voices raise 
 With one accord. 
 
 From field to gamer throng, 
 
 Bearing your sheaves along ; 
 
 And in your harvest song, 
 
 Bless ye the Lord. 
 
 Yes, bless His holy Name, 
 
 And your soul’s thanks proclaim 
 Through all the earth. 
 
 To glory in your lot 
 Is comely ; but be not 
 His benefits forgot, 
 
 Amidst your mirth.— Montgomery. 
 
 1713- HARVEST. Thoughts for the 
 
 With throbbing heart and tearful eye 
 I watch’d the spring-time fleeting by. 
 
 I saw the snow-drop at its birth 
 Felled, by spears of rain, to earth ; 
 
 The iris burst her emerald sheath, 
 
 And show the amethyst beneath ; 
 
 The painted tulip fade and close 
 Before the glory of the rose ; 
 
 And now, down fields of sunburnt grass 
 I see the withering rose-leaves pass ; 
 
HATRED 
 
 33i 
 
 HEALTH 
 
 And night by night, and day by day, 
 
 The life of summer ebbs away. 
 
 I see the granaries overflow, 
 
 The mellowing orchards bending low. 
 
 O God ! my heart in awe and fear 
 Looks back upon thy perfect year. 
 
 Thy bounty covers all the lands ; 
 
 I lift in prayer my empty hands. 
 
 Of all the summer of my life 
 The harvest is but sin and strife. 
 
 Oh ! could these tears, like April rain, 
 
 Make moist my heart’s hard soil again, 
 
 And stir the seeds which Thou didst sow, 
 
 Oh ! never should they cease to flow. 
 
 Could prayer but melt this ice away, 
 
 Oh ! never would I cease to pray, 
 
 Till thou in mercy, Lord, didst bring 
 Into my soul a second spring. 
 
 Oh ! then what rich reward and sweet 
 To lay its harvest at thy feet. 
 
 Katherine Saunders. 
 
 And when you crowd the old barn eaves, 
 
 Then think what countless harvest sheaves 
 Have pass’d within that scented door 
 To gladden eyes that are no more. 
 
 T. B. Read. 
 
 1714. HATRED : a crime. 
 
 Blunted unto goodness is the heart which anger 
 never stirreth, 
 
 But that which hatred swelleth, is keen to carve out 
 evil. 
 
 Anger is a noble infirmity, the generous failing of the 
 just, 
 
 The one degree that riseth above zeal, asserting the 
 prerogatives of virtue ; 
 
 But hatred is a slow continuing crime, a fire in the 
 bad man’s breast, 
 
 A dull and hungry flame, for ever craving insatiate. 
 
 Hatred would harm another; anger would indulge 
 itself: 
 
 Hatred is a simmering poison ; anger, the opening of 
 the valve : 
 
 Hatred destroyeth as the upas-tree ; anger smiteth as 
 a staff: 
 
 Hatred is the atmosphere of hell, but anger is known 
 in heaven. — Tupper. 
 
 1715. HATRED. Cure of 
 
 Is he not sailing, 
 
 Lost like thyself on an ocean unknown, and is he not 
 guided 
 
 By the same star that guides thee ? Why should’st 
 thou hate, then, thy brother ? 
 
 Hateth he thee ? Forgive ! For ’tis sweet to stam¬ 
 mer one lettei 
 
 Of the Eternal’s language ; on earth it is call’d for¬ 
 giveness .— Tegner. 
 
 1716. HEALTH : essential to happiness. 
 
 Health, brightest visitant from heaven, 
 
 Grant me with thee to rest ! 
 
 For the short term by nature given, 
 
 Be thou my constant guest! 
 
 For all the pride that wealth bestows, 
 
 The pleasure that from children flows, 
 
 Whate’er we court in regal state 
 That makes men covet to be great; 
 
 Whatever sweets we hope to find 
 In Love’s delightful snare ; 
 
 Whatever good by Heaven assign’d, 
 
 Whatever pause from care : 
 
 All flourish at thy smile divine ; 
 
 The spring of loveliness is thine, 
 
 And every joy that warms our hearts, 
 
 With thee approaches and departs. 
 
 Bland, from Alciphron. 
 
 Slow wandering on the margin of the deep, 
 
 I breathe the cheering gale of health once more ; 
 And see the billows gently dash the steep, 
 
 That rears its bold head on the sandy shore. 
 
 Fresh looks the landscape with the dews of dawn ; 
 
 A bluish mist swims o’er the soften’d grove ; 
 
 The wanton deer bound lightly o’er the lawn, 
 
 And every copse resounds with notes of love. 
 
 The village-clocks proclaim the passing hour ; 
 
 The tall spires glitter to the early sun ; 
 
 The ploughman, whistling, quits his low-rooi’d 
 bower, 
 
 And now his peaceful labour is begun. 
 
 Yet not this ocean, cheer’d with many a sail, 
 
 Nor all these rural sounds, and pastures fair, 
 
 To solace worn disease could aught avail, 
 
 Or from his bosom chase the clouds of care. 
 
 The merry morn no rapture could impart, 
 
 Nor converse sweet of friends his hours beguile ; 
 
 In vain could beauty warm his aching heart, 
 
 Or on his cold wan cheek awake a smile. 
 
 Yet oft we slight thy worth, O blessed Health ! 
 
 Poor mortals as we are, till thou art flown ; 
 
 And thy sweet joys, more dear than fame or wealth, _ 
 Touch not our hearts, but pass unfelt, unknown. 
 
HEALTH 
 
 332 
 
 HEART 
 
 The joys, without whose aid whate’er of blest, 
 
 Or great, or fair, the heavens to man ordain, 
 
 Is dull and tasteless to the unthankful breast, 
 
 Love loveless, youth old age, and pleasure pain. 
 
 Hamley. 
 
 1717. HEALTH. Ingredients of 
 
 The common ingredients of health and long life are 
 Great temperance, open air, 
 
 Easy labour, little care.— Sidney. 
 
 The surest road to health, say what they will, 
 
 Is never to suppose we shall be ill. 
 
 Most of those evils we poor mortals know 
 From doctors and imagination flow. 
 
 Churchill. 
 
 My body is from all diseases free ; 
 
 My temperate pulse does regularly beat. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 1718. HEALTH : rarely enjoyed. 
 
 There is no health : physicians say that we 
 At best enjoy but a neutrality.— Donne. 
 
 1719- HEALTH: uncertain. 
 
 What is life?—like a flower, with the bane in its 
 bosom, 
 
 To-day, full of promise, to-morrow it dies ! 
 
 And health, like the dew-drop that hung on its 
 blossom, 
 
 Survives but a night, and exhales to the skies ; 
 How oft ’neath the bud that is brightest and fairest, 
 The seeds of the canker in embryo lurk ! 
 
 How oft at the root of the flower that is rarest, 
 
 Secure in its ambush the worm is at work ! 
 
 Beattie. 
 
 1720. HEARERS: how they invert the truth. 
 
 What use the preacher’s truth and earnest exhorta¬ 
 tion ? 
 
 The hearer makes thereof inverted application. 
 
 A miser listen’d once to a discourse most moving, 
 
 The habit of unstinted charity approving. 
 
 He said : ‘ I never was before so much affected : 
 
 How beautiful is charity when well directed ! 
 
 So clear and noble is the duty of almsgiving, 
 
 At once I’ll go and beg, as sure as I am living.’ 
 
 Oriental. 
 
 1721. HEARING. Mystery of 
 
 Thy functions are ethereal, 
 
 As if within thee dwelt a glancing mind, 
 
 Organ of vision ! And a spirit aerial 
 
 Informs the cell of Hearing, dark and blind ; 
 Intricate labyrinth, more dread for thought 
 To enter than oracular cave ; 
 
 Strict passage through which sighs are brought, 
 And whispers for the heart their slave ; 
 
 And shrieks, that revel in abuse 
 
 Of shivering flesh ; and warbled air,. 
 
 Whose piercing sweetness can unloose 
 The chains of frenzy, or entice a smile 
 Into the ambush of despair ; 
 
 Hosannas pealing down the long-drawn aisle, 
 And requiems answer’d by the pulse that beats 
 Devoutly, in life’s last retreats !— Wordsworth. 
 
 1722. HEARING. Sense of 
 
 This is the slowest, yet the daintiest sense ! 
 
 For even the ears of such as have no skill, 
 Perceive a discord, and conceive offence ; 
 
 And knowing not what’s good, yet find the ill. 
 And though this sense first gentle music sound, 
 
 Her proper object is the speech of men ; 
 
 But that speech, chiefly, which God’s heralds sound, 
 When their tongues utter what His Spirit wrote. 
 
 Davies. 
 
 1723. HEART: a camera obscura. 
 
 We, in the dark chamber of the heart, 
 
 Sitting alone, see the world tabled to us; 
 
 And the world wonders how recluses know 
 So much, and most of all, how we know them. 
 
 It is they who paint themselves upon our hearts 
 In their own lights and darknesses, not we. 
 
 Bailey. 
 
 1724. HEART. Activity of the 
 
 A millstone and the human heart are driven ever 
 round ; 
 
 If they have nothing else to grind, they must them¬ 
 selves be ground. 
 
 Von Logau , tr. by Longfellow. 
 
 172$. HEART. Breaking a 
 
 When other things are broken, they are nothing 
 worth, 
 
 Unless it be to some old Jew or some repairer ; 
 
 But hearts, the more they’re bruised and broken here 
 on earth, 
 
 In heaven are so much the costlier and the fairer. 
 
 Oriental, tr. by W. R. Alger. 
 
 1726. HEART. Burying a 
 
 / 
 
 Thou know’st the words King Robert spoke 
 Upon his dying day: 
 
 How he bade take his noble heart 
 And carry it far away ;' 
 
HEART 
 
 333 
 
 HEART 
 
 And lay it in the holy soil 
 Where once the Saviour trod, 
 
 Since he might not bear the blessed Cross, 
 Nor strike one blow for God.— Aytoun. 
 
 1727. HEART. Calls to the 
 
 Who calleth thee, Heart? World’s Strife, 
 With a golden heft to his knife: 
 
 World’s Mirth, with a finger fine 
 That draws on a board in wine 
 Her blood-red plans of life: 
 
 World’s Gain, with a brow knit down: 
 World’s Fame, with a laurel crown, 
 
 Which rustles most as the leaves turn brown— 
 Heart, wilt thou go ? 
 
 —‘ No, no ! 
 
 Calm hearts are wiser so.’ 
 
 Howbeit all is not lost: 
 
 The warm noon ends in frost, 
 
 The worldly tongues of promise, 
 
 Like sheep-bells die off from us 
 On the desert hills cloud-cross’d ! 
 
 Yet, through the silence, shall 
 Pierce the death-angel’s call, 
 
 And ‘ Come up hither,’ recover all. 
 
 Heart, wilt thou go ? 
 
 —‘I goJ 
 
 Broken hearts triumph so.’ 
 
 E. B. Browning. 
 
 1728. HEART. Consecration of the 
 
 But one by God’s renewing Spirit touch’d ; 
 
 A Christian heart, awaked from sleep of sin. 
 
 What seest thou here ? what mark’st ? observe it 
 well— 
 
 Will, passion, reason, hopes, fears, joy, distress, 
 Peace, turbulence, simplicity, deceit, 
 
 Good, ill, corruption, immortality. 
 
 A temple of the Holy Ghost, and yet 
 Oft lodging fiends ; the dwelling-place of all 
 The heavenly virtues—charity and truth, 
 
 Humility, and holiness, and love, 
 
 And yet the common haunt of anger, pride, 
 
 Hatred, revenge, and passions foul with lust; 
 
 Allied to heaven, yet parleying oft with hell; 
 
 A soldier listed in Messiah’s band, 
 
 Yet giving quarter to Abaddon’s troops: 
 
 With seraphs drinking from the well of life, 
 
 And yet carousing in the cup of death ; 
 
 An heir of heaven, and walking thitherward, 
 
 Yet casting back a covetous eye on earth: 
 
 Emblem of strength and weakness ; loving now, 
 
 And now abhorring sin ; indulging now, 
 
 And now repenting sore ; rejoicing now 
 With joy unspeakable, and full of glory ; 
 
 Now weeping bitterly, and clothed in dust. 
 
 A man willing to do, and doing not; 
 
 Doing, and willing not; embracing what 
 He hates, what most he loves abandoning. 
 
 Half saint, and sinner half—half life, half death ; 
 Commixture strange of Heaven, and Earth, and 
 Hell! 
 
 What seest thou here? what mark’st? a battle- 
 
 ‘ Had I a thousand hearts, I’d raise 
 Them all in my Redeemer’s praise,’ 
 
 We sometimes cry; 
 
 And still we find it hard to give 
 Our one poor offering, and live 
 As He were by ! 
 
 O purest, truest, boundless love ! 
 
 Worthy of Him who reigns above,— 
 
 Our heavenly Guide ! 
 
 He takes the heart we fain would give, 
 
 He deigns in it Himself to live, 
 
 With us to ’bide. 
 
 Tune, Lord, this heart as ’twere a lyre 
 Of heavenly make, till every wire 
 And every chord 
 
 Wake but one strain—one deepest thrill, 
 Long, louder, sweeter, fuller still,— 
 
 Love to my Lord. 
 
 Louisa von Pleitenbaus. 
 
 1729. HEART. Contents of the 
 
 I’ll introduce thee to a single heart; 
 
 A human heart ; we enter not the worst ; 
 
 field— 
 
 Two banners spread ; two dreadful fronts of war 
 In shock of opposition fierce engaged— 
 
 God, angels, saw whole empires rise in arms ; 
 
 Saw kings exalted ; heard them tumbled down, 
 
 And others raised, and heeded not; but here 
 God, angels, look’d ; God, angels, fought; and Hell 
 With all his legions fought: here error fought 
 With truth; with darkness light; and life with 
 death: 
 
 And here not kingdoms, reputations, worlds, 
 
 Were won ; the strife was for eternity ; 
 
 The victory was never-ending bliss ; 
 
 The badge, a chaplet from the tree of life.— Pollok. 
 
 1730. HEART. Darkness in the 
 
 Festus. Some seem to live, 
 
 Whose hearts are like those unenlighten’d stars 
 Of the first darkness—lifeless, timeless, useless— 
 With nothing but a cold night air about them ; 
 Not suns—not planets—darkness organized ; 
 
 Orbs of a desert darkness, with no soul 
 To light its watch-fire in the wilderness, 
 
HEART 
 
 334 
 
 HEART 
 
 And civilize the solitude one moment. 
 
 There are such seemingly ; but how or why 
 They live I know not. This to me is life: 
 
 That if life be a burden, I will join 
 
 To make it but the burden of a song.— Bailey. 
 
 1 73 1 * HEART. Depravity of the 
 
 Lord, when we search the human heart, 
 
 We find a fallen world within ; 
 
 There is no health in any part, 
 
 Sin reigns throughout, and death by sin. 
 
 Large provinces are pagan still, 
 
 Where other lords dominion share ; 
 
 Idols of mind, affection, will, 
 
 The power of darkness triumphs there. 
 
 Here, the false prophet’s wild domains, 
 
 Where lust, and cruelty, and hate, 
 
 With baleful passions fire the veins, 
 
 And seal the conscience up in fate. 
 
 ’Midst all the stubborn, stiff-neck’d Jew, 
 
 Blind, like his kindred prone to roam, 
 
 Denies the Saviour whom he slew, 
 
 Mammon his God, and earth his home. 
 
 I know a bosom, which within 
 
 Contains the world’s sad counterpart; 
 
 ’Tis here,—the reign of death and sin ; 
 
 O God ! evangelize my heart! 
 
 Then will I strive, through earth’s whole round, 
 Thy name, Thy knowledge to diffuse ; 
 
 And send the Gospel’s joyful sound 
 To pagans, infidels, and Jews. 
 
 James Montgomery. 
 
 1732. HEART: determines the moral quality of 
 our actions. 
 
 All our actions take 
 
 Their hues from the complexion of the heart, 
 
 As landscapes their variety from light. — Bacon. 
 
 1 733 * HEART. Germs in the 
 
 A young maiden’s heart 
 Is a rich soil, wherein lie many germs, 
 
 Hid by the cunning hand of Nature there 
 To put forth blossoms in their fittest season ; 
 
 And though the love of home first breaks the soil, 
 With its embracing tendrils clasping it, 
 
 Other affections, strong and warm, will grow. 
 While that one fades, as summer’s lush of bloom 
 Succeeds the gentle budding of the spring. 
 
 Maids must be wives and mothers, to fulfil 
 Th’ entire and holiest end of woman’s being. 
 
 Frances Anne Kemble. 
 
 1734 - HEART. God’s love for the 
 
 With God ’tis one 
 To guide a sunbeam or create a sun— 
 
 To rule ten thousand thousand worlds or none. 
 Go, worlds ! said God, but learn, ere ye depart, 
 My favour’d temple is an humble heart; 
 
 Therein to dwell I leave my loftiest skies— 
 There shall my holy of all holies rise !— Bailey. 
 
 1 735 * HEART. Highway of the 
 
 A wretched thing it were, to have our heart 
 Like a broad highway or a populous street. 
 Where every idle thought has leave to meet, 
 Pause, or pass on, as in an open mart ; 
 
 Or like some roadside pool, which no nice art 
 Has guarded, that the cattle may not beat 
 And foul it with a multitude of feet, 
 
 Till of the heavens it can give back no part. 
 
 But keep thou thine a holy solitude, 
 
 For He who would walk there, would walk alone; 
 
 He who would drink there, must be first endued 
 With single right to call that stream his own ; 
 
 Keep thou thine heart, close-fasten’d, unreveal’d, 
 A fenced garden and a fountain seal’d. — Trench. 
 
 1736* HEART. Influence of the 
 
 ’Tis Home where’er the heart is: 
 
 Where’er its loved ones dwell, 
 
 In cities or in cottages, 
 
 Throng’d haunts or mossy dell; 
 
 The heart’s a rover ever, 
 
 And thus on wave and wild, 
 
 The maiden with her lover walks, 
 
 The mother with her child. 
 
 ’Tis bright where’er the heart is ; 
 
 Its fairy spells can bring 
 Fresh fountains to the wilderness, 
 
 And to the desert spring. 
 
 There are green isles in each ocean. 
 
 O’er which affection glides ; 
 
 And a haven on each shore, 
 
 When love’s the star that guides. 
 
 ’Tis free where’er the heart is ; 
 
 Nor chains, nor dungeon dim, 
 
 May check the mind’s aspirings, 
 
 The spirit’s pealing hymn ! 
 
 The heart gives life its beauty, 
 
 Its glory and its power, 
 
 ’Tis sunlight to its rippling stream, 
 
 And soft dew to its flower. 
 
HEART 
 
 335 
 
 HEART 
 
 1737. HEART. Judging the 
 
 Who made the heart, ’tis He alone 
 Decidedly can try us, 
 
 He knows each chord—its various tone, 
 
 Each spring—its various bias : 
 
 Then at the balance let’s be mute, 
 
 We never can adjust it; 
 
 What’s done we partly may compute, 
 
 But know not what’s resisted. — Btirns. 
 
 1738. HEART. Music in the 
 
 There are in this loud, stunning tide 
 Of human care and crime, 
 
 With whom the melodies abide 
 Of the everlasting chime, 
 
 Who carry music in their heart 
 Through dusky lane and wrangling mart; 
 Plying their daily task with busier feet, 
 
 Because their secret souls a holier strain repeat. 
 
 Keble. 
 
 1739. HEART : out of tune. 
 
 Bird, blossom, branch, and stream, 
 
 All quiet as the air ; 
 
 And lying as in a dream, 
 
 Earth seemeth passing fair. 
 
 Oh, what a hymn divine 
 
 Breathes from this golden noon ; 
 
 Only this heart of mine 
 Is beating out of tune. 
 
 1740. HEART: should be the supreme object 
 
 of care. 
 
 I CARE not, so my kernel relish well, 
 
 How slender be the substance of my shell; 
 
 My heart being virtuous, let my face be wan, 
 
 I am to God, I only seem to man.— Quarles. 
 
 1741. HEART. Soil of the 
 
 Hast thou e’er seen a garden clad 
 In all the robes that Eden had— 
 
 Or vale o’erspread with streams and trees 
 A paradise of mysteries— 
 
 Plains with green hills adorning them, 
 
 Like jewels in a diadem? 
 
 These gardens, vales, and plains, and hills, 
 Which beauty gilds and music fills, 
 
 Were once but deserts ; culture’s hand 
 Has scatter’d verdure o’er the land, 
 
 And smiles and fragrance rule serene, 
 
 Where barren wilds usurp’d the scene. 
 
 And such is man. A soil which breeds 
 Or sweetest flowers or vilest weeds: 
 
 Flowers lovely as the morning’s light, 
 
 Weeds deadly as the aconite: 
 
 Just as his heart is train’d to bear 
 
 The poisonous weed or flow’ret fair.— Bozvring. 
 
 1742. HEART. Stillness in the 
 
 My heart is like the sleeping lake. 
 
 Which takes the hue of cloud and sky. 
 
 And only feels its surface break 
 When birds of passage wander by, 
 
 Who dip their wings, and upward soar, 
 
 And leave it quiet as before. — Willis. 
 
 1743. HEART. Storms in the 
 
 The ills that darken life 
 
 Are rapture to the bosom’s strife ; 
 
 The tempest, in its blackest form. 
 
 Is beauty to the bosom’s storm ; 
 
 The ocean, lash’d to fury loud, 
 
 Its high waves mingling with the cloud, 
 
 Is peaceful, sweet serenity, 
 
 To passion’s dark and boundless sea. 
 
 There sleeps no calm, there smiles no rest, 
 When storms are warring in the breast; 
 There is no moment of repose 
 In bosoms lash’d by hidden woes. 
 
 Eastburn. 
 
 1744. HEART : the fountain of feeling. 
 
 I am not old—though Time has set 
 His signet on my brow, 
 
 And some faint furrows there have met, 
 
 Which care may deepen now ;— 
 
 For in my heart a fountain flows, 
 
 And round it pleasant thoughts repose, 
 
 And sympathies and feelings high 
 Spring like the stars on evening sky. 
 
 Benjamin. 
 
 1745. HEART. Weakness of the 
 
 Which is the weakest thing of all 
 Mine heart can ponder ; 
 
 The sun a little cloud can pall 
 With darkness yonder,— 
 
 The cloud a little wind can move 
 Where’er it listeth,— 
 
 The wind, a little leaf above, 
 
 Though sere, resisteth ? 
 
 What time that yellow leaf was green, 
 
 My days were gladder ; 
 
 But now, whatever Spring may mean, 
 
 I must grow sadder. 
 
HEATHENISM 336 HE A VEN 
 
 Ah me ! a leaf with sighs can wring 
 My lips asunder— 
 
 Then is mine heart the weakest thing 
 Itself can ponder. 
 
 Yet, Heart, when sun and cloud are pined* 
 And drop together, 
 
 And at a blast which is not wind 
 The forests wither, 
 
 Thou from the darkening, deathly curse, 
 
 To glory breakest— 
 
 The Strongest of the universe 
 Guarding the weakest!— E. B. Browning. 
 
 1746. HEATHENISM. Gods of 
 
 Apollyon, Baalim, Beelzebub, 
 
 Bel, Dagon, Chemosh, Nisroch, Arioch, 
 Merodach, Moloch, these and countless more, 
 
 With hosts of spirits subordinate to each, 
 
 They to their princedoms, these to Satan bound, 
 Ranged in imperious tyranny abroad, 
 
 And chose their various realms as liked them best, 
 And parcell’d out the kingdoms of the world 
 Amongst them as their rightful heritage. 
 
 Each region had its dynasty of gods : 
 
 Primeval Asshur hers, whose altars blazed 
 Upon the plains of Shinar : Persia hers, 
 
 Beside her founts of liquid fire: and where 
 The mighty Indus rolls its tide of wealth, 
 Innumerable shrines, sparkling with gems, 
 
 Studded the odorous banks. But none like Greece 
 Could boast its names of graceful deities 
 For every fountain, and for every breeze, 
 
 For every stream, and wood, and ocean shore, 
 
 For night and day, for sunshine, and for storm, 
 
 For every changeful phase of Nature’s moods, 
 
 For every passion of the human heart, 
 
 For wine, for war, for laughter, and for tears, 
 
 For nuptial dances, and for funeral dirge, 
 
 For all things from the cradle to the grave, 
 
 And past the grave in Hades—over all 
 Were gods, or goddesses, or demigods, 
 
 Sylphs, nymphs, fawns, muses, graces president; 
 For here the sevenfold power of Ashtaroth, 
 Encamping with his limitary hosts, 
 
 First fix’d his seat, in after years removed 
 Where Tiber rolls beneath the walls of Rome. 
 
 Bickersteth. 
 
 z 747 - HEAVEN. Attractions of 
 
 Though earth has still many a beautiful spot, 
 
 As a poet or painter might show ; 
 
 Yet more lovely and beautiful, holy and bright, 
 
 Is the hope of the heart, and the spirit’s glad sight, 
 
 In the land which no mortal may know. 
 
 There the water of life, bursting forth from the throne. 
 Flows on and for ever will flow; 
 
 Its waves as they roll are with melody rife, 
 
 And its waters are sparkling with beauty and life, 
 
 In the land which no mortal may know. 
 
 And there on its margin, with leaves ever green, 
 With its fruits healing sickness and woe, 
 
 The fair tree of life, in its glory and pride, 
 
 Is fed Dy that deep, inexhaustible tide 
 Of the land which no mortal may know. 
 
 Oh ! who but must pine in this dark vale of tears, 
 From its clouds and its shadows to go, 
 
 To walk in the light of the glory above, 
 
 And to share in the peace, and the joy, and the love, 
 Of the land which no mortal may know.— Barton. 
 
 1748. HEAVEN. A year in 
 
 One year among the angels, beloved, thou hast been, 
 One year has heaven’s white portal shut back the 
 sound of sin ; 
 
 And yet no voice, no whisper, comes floating down 
 from thee, 
 
 To tell us what glad wonder a year of heaven may 
 be. 
 
 Our hearts before it listen—the beautiful closed gate : 
 The silence yearns around us : we listen and we wait. 
 It is thy heavenly birthday, on earth thy lilies bloom ; 
 In thine immortal garland canst find for these no 
 room ? 
 
 Thou lovedst all things lovely when walking with us 
 here : 
 
 Now from the heights of heaven seems earth no 
 longer dear? 
 
 We cannot paint thee moving in white-robed state 
 afar, 
 
 Nor dream our flower of comfort a cool and distant 
 
 star. 
 
 Heaven is but life made richer; therein can be no 
 
 loss : 
 
 To meet our love and longing thou hast no gulf to 
 cross: 
 
 No adamant between us uprears its rocky screen; 
 
 A veil before us only:—thou hast the light serene. 
 
 That veil twixt earth and heaven a breath might 
 
 waft aside : 
 
 We breathe one air, beloved, we follow one dear 
 Guide : 
 
 Pass’d into open vision, out of our mist and rain, 
 
 Thou seest how sorrow blossoms, how peace is won 1 
 from pain. 
 
HE A VEN 
 
 337 
 
 HE A VEN 
 
 And half we feel thee leaning from thy deep calm of 
 bliss, 
 
 To say of earth, ‘ Beloved, how beautiful it is ! 
 
 The lilies in this splendour—the green leaves in this 
 dew ; 
 
 Oh earth is also heaven, with God’s light clothed 
 anew ! ’ 
 
 Because we know thee near us, and nearer still to 
 Him 
 
 Who fills the cup of being with glory to the brim, 
 We will not stain with grieving our fair, though 
 fainter light, 
 
 But cling to thee in spirit as if thou wert in sight. 
 And as in waves of beauty the swift years come and 
 
 go. 
 
 Upon celestial currents our deeper life shall flow, 
 Hearing, from that sweet country where blighting 
 never came, 
 
 Love chime the hours immortal, in earth and heaven 
 the same.— Lucy Larcom. 
 
 1749. HEAVEN. Blessedness of 
 
 Thrice happy world, where gilded toys 
 No more disturb our thoughts, no more pollute our 
 joys ! 
 
 There light or shade succeed no more by turns, 
 There reigns th’ eternal sun with an unclouded ray, 
 There all is calm as night, yet all immortal day, 
 
 And truth for ever shines, and love for ever bums. 
 
 Watts. 
 
 1750. HEAVEN. Certainty of 
 
 There is a heaven : 
 
 This shred of life cannot be all the web 
 Nature hath wrought to govern divine spirits ; 
 There is a heaven, because there’s misery. 
 
 The Divine Power, ever blest and good, 
 
 Made not the world for an ill-natured jest, 
 
 To sport Himself in pains of those He made. 
 
 Crown. 
 
 1751. HEAVEN : cloudless. 
 
 No shadows yonder ! 
 
 All light and song : 
 
 Each day I wonder, 
 
 And say, Plow long 
 Shall time me sunder 
 From that dear throng? 
 
 No weeping yonder ! 
 
 All fled away; 
 
 While here I wander 
 Each weary day, 
 
 And sigh as I ponder 
 My long, long stay. 
 
 No partings yonder ! 
 
 Time and space never 
 Again shall sunder; 
 
 Hearts cannot sever; 
 
 Dearer and fonder 
 Hands clasp for ever. 
 
 None wanting yonder, 
 
 Bought by the Lamb ! 
 
 All gather’d under 
 The evergreen palm ; 
 
 Loud as night’s thunder 
 
 Ascends the glad psalm.— Bonar. 
 
 1752. HEAVEN. Degrees in 
 
 If loftier posts superior state declare ; 
 
 More virtuous acts if ampler meeds requite ; 
 
 If brightest crowns on noblest prowess light, 
 
 And well-sown fields a fuller harvest bear ; 
 
 If thrones, dominions, princedoms, powers there are, 
 Which God’s inferior hosts excel in might; 
 
 If day’s bright orb outshine the lamp of night, 
 
 And Hesper’s radiance the remotest star : 
 
 Then shall the younger brethren of the sky. 
 
 If right I scan the records of their fate, 
 
 In varied ranks of social harmony 
 
 God’s mount encircle. Glorious is the state 
 E’en of the lowest there : but seats more nigh 
 
 The Sovereign’s throne His greater servants wait. 
 
 Alant. 
 
 1753. PIEAVEN. Delights of 
 
 Far from these narrow scenes of night 
 Unbounded glories rise, 
 
 And realms of infinite delight. 
 
 Unknown to mortal eyes. 
 
 Fair distant land ; could mortal eyes 
 But half its joys explore, 
 
 How would our spirits long to rise. 
 
 And dwell on earth no more. 
 
 There pain and sickness never come, 
 
 And grief no more complains ; 
 
 Health triumphs in immortal bloom, 
 
 And endless pleasure reigns. 
 
 No cloud those blissful regions know, 
 
 For ever bright and fair ; 
 
 For sin, the source of mortal woe, 
 
 Can never enter there. 
 
 There no alternate night is known, 
 
 Nor sun’s faint, sickly ray ; 
 
 But glory from the sacred Throne 
 
 Spreads everlasting day. 
 
 22 
 
HE A YEN 
 
 333 
 
 HE A YEN 
 
 The glorious Monarch there displays 
 His beams of wondrous grace ; 
 
 His happy subjects sing His praise, 
 
 And bow before His face. 
 
 Oh may the heavenly prospect fire 
 Our hearts with ardent love, 
 
 Till wings of faith and strong desire 
 Bear every thought above ! 
 
 Prepare us, Lord, by grace Divine, 
 
 For Thy bright courts on high ; 
 
 Then bid our spirits rise and join 
 The chorus of the sky .—Anne Steele. 
 
 1754 - HEAVEN : desired. 
 
 I would I were at last at home, 
 
 And all earth’s trials overcome ; 
 
 At home in that calm, happy place 
 Where I shall see God face to face ! 
 
 Then thither, Heart, for refuge flee, 
 Where angel-hosts are waiting thee. 
 
 If earth for thee be only gloom, 
 
 Thou wilt but get the sooner home. 
 
 A thousand years are as a day, 
 
 For weariness hath there no sway. 
 
 Repent thy sins, prepare for home, 
 To-morrow may the Voice say, Come. 
 Farewell, O World, now home I fare ; 
 God guide all true hearts safely there! 
 
 Henry of Loufenbitr^ 
 
 1755 ’ HEAVEN. Desiring 
 
 Let me go where saints are going, 
 
 To the mansions of the blest; 
 
 Let me go where my Redeemer 
 Has prepared His people’s rest. 
 
 I would gain the realms of brightness, 
 Where they dwell for evermore ; 
 
 I would join the friends that wait me, 
 Over on the other shore. 
 
 Let me go ; ’tis Jesus calls me ; 
 
 Let me gain the realms of day ; 
 Bear me over, angel pinions ; 
 
 Longs my soul to be away. 
 
 Let me go where none are weary— 
 
 Where is raised no wail of woe ; 
 
 Let me go and bathe my spirit 
 In the raptures angels know. 
 
 Let me go, for bliss eternal 
 Lures my soul away, away, 
 
 And the victor’s song triumphant 
 Thrills my heart; I cannot stay. 
 
 Let me go ; why should I tarry ? 
 
 What has earth to bind me here ? 
 
 What but cares and toils and sorrows ? 
 
 What but death and pain and fear? 
 
 Let me go, for hopes most cherish’d, 
 
 Blasted round me often lie. 
 
 Oh ! I’ve gather’d brightest flowers, 
 
 But to see them fade and die. 
 
 Let me go where tears and sighing 
 Are for evermore unknown, 
 
 Where the joyous songs of glory 
 Call me to a happier home. 
 
 Let me go—I’d cease this dying, 
 
 I would gain life’s fairer plains, 
 
 Let me join the myriad harpers, 
 
 Let me chant their rapturous strains. 
 
 Let me go, oh ! speed my journey, 
 
 Saints and seraphs lure away, 
 
 Oh ! I almost feel the raptures 
 That belong to endless day. 
 
 Oft methinks I hear the singing 
 That is only heard above ; 
 
 Let me go, oh! speed my going, 
 
 Let me go where all is love. 
 
 Z. Hartsough. 
 
 1756. HEAVEN. Emblems of 
 
 The bright and beautiful we here behold 
 Are only shadows of sublimer things, 
 
 Stretching themselves across the vale of time ; 
 
 They are but drift-weed from the grander shores 
 Of Immortality, for which our hearts 
 Pant in our calmer moods, when moon, or stars, 
 Still sea, or golden clouds arrest our gaze. 
 
 The sunbeams lift our thoughts to heaven, just as 
 They draw the dew-drops from the earth, and weave 
 Them into drapery for the sky. The mountains, 
 Too, are steps that bid us climb to heights far 
 Loftier than their proudest summits reach, 
 
 Or eagle’s wing hath touch’d. The very flowers 
 That fade do prophesy of deathless bloom 
 In yon fair world, where summer never ends. 
 
 1757. HEAVEN. Epitome of 
 
 Zion is our home ; 
 Jerusalem, the city of our God. 
 
 O happy home ! O happy children here! 
 
 O blissful mansions of our Father’s house ! 
 
 O walks surpassing Eden for delight ! 
 
 Here are the harvests reap’d once sown in tears 
 Here is the rest by ministry enhanced : 
 
 Here is the banquet of the wine of heaven, 
 
 Riches of glory incorruptible, 
 
HE A VEN 
 
 339 
 
 HE A VEN 
 
 Crowns, amaranthine crowns of victory, 
 
 The voice of harpers harping on their harps, 
 
 The anthems of the holy cherubim, 
 
 The crystal river of the Spirit’s joy, 
 
 The Bridal palace of the Prince of Peace, 
 
 The Holiest of Holies—God is here.— Bickersteth. 
 
 1758. HEAVEN. Esteeming 
 
 What a poor value do men set on heaven ! 
 Heaven, the perfection of all that can 
 Be said, or thought, riches, delight, or harmony, 
 Health, beauty ; and all this not subject to 
 The waste of time ; but in their height eternal; 
 Lost for a pension or a poor spot of earth, 
 
 Favour of greatness, or an hour’s faint pleasure, 
 As men, in scorn of a true flame that’s near, 
 Should run to light their tapers at a glow-worm. 
 
 Shirley. 
 
 1759. HEAVEN : for whom it is reserved. 
 
 Those eternal bowers 
 Man hath never trod, 
 
 Those unfading flowers 
 
 Round the throne of God,— 
 
 Who may hope to gain them, 
 
 After weary fight ? 
 
 Who at length attain them, 
 
 Clad in robes of white ? 
 
 He who gladly barters 
 All on earthly ground ; 
 
 He who, like the martyrs, 
 
 Says, ‘ I will be crown’d ; ’ 
 
 He whose one oblation 
 Is a life of love, 
 
 Clinging to the nation 
 Of the blest above. 
 
 Si John Damascene, tr. by J. M. Neale. 
 
 1760. HEAVEN. Friendship in 
 
 Oft weeping memoiy sits alone, 
 
 Beside some grave, at even, 
 
 And calls upon some spirit flown, 
 
 Oh say, shall those on earth our own 
 Be ours again in heaven ? 
 
 Amid these lone, sepulchral shades, 
 
 Where sleep our dear ones riven, 
 
 Is not some lingering spirit near, 
 
 To tell if those divided here 
 Unite and know in heaven ? 
 
 Shall friends who o’er the waste of life 
 By the same storms are driven, 
 
 Shall they recount, in realms of bliss, 
 
 The fortunes and the tears of this, 
 
 And love again, in heaven ? 
 
 When hearts which have on earth been one, 
 
 By ruthless death are riven, 
 
 Why does the one which death has reft 
 Drag off in grief the one that’s left, 
 
 If not to meet in heaven ? 
 
 The warmest love on earth is still 
 Imperfect when ’tis given ; 
 
 But there’s a purer clime above, 
 
 Where perfect hearts in perfect love 
 Unite ; and this is heaven. 
 
 If love on earth is but ‘ In part,’ 
 
 As light and shade at even,— 
 
 If sin doth plant a thorn between 
 The truest hearts—there is, I ween, 
 
 A perfect love in heaven. 
 
 O happy world ! O glorious place ! 
 
 Where all who are forgiven 
 Shall find their loved and lost below, 
 
 And hearts, like meeting streams, shall flow, 
 For ever one, in heaven. 
 
 1761. HEAVEN. Gleams of 
 
 Beyond these chilling winds and gloomy skies, 
 Beyond death’s cloudy portal, 
 
 There is a land where beauty never dies, 
 
 And love becomes immortal. 
 
 A land whose light is never dimm’d by shade, 
 Whose fields are ever vernal; 
 
 Where nothing beautiful can ever fade, 
 
 But blooms for aye, eternal. 
 
 We may not know how sweet its balmy air, 
 
 How bright and fair its flowers ; 
 
 We may not hear the songs that echo there 
 Through those enchanted bowers. 
 
 The city’s shining towers we may not see 
 With our dim, earthly vision : 
 
 For death, the silent warder, keeps the key 
 That opes these gates elysian. 
 
 But sometimes, when adown the western sky 
 The fiery sunset lingers, 
 
 Its golden gates swing inward noiselessly, 
 
 Unlock’d by unseen fingers. 
 
 And while they stand a moment half ajar, 
 
 Gleams from the inner glory 
 Stream brightly through the azure vault afar, 
 
 And half reveal the story. 
 
 O land unknown ! O land of love divine ! 
 
 Father, all-wise, eternal, 
 
 Guide, guide these wandering, way-worn feet of mine 
 Into those pastures vernal.— A T ancy A. W. Priest. 
 
HE A VEN 
 
 340 
 
 HE A VEN 
 
 1762. HEAVEN. Glory of 
 
 Since o’er Thy footstool here below 
 Such radiant gems are strewn, 
 
 Oh, what magnificence must glow, 
 
 My God, about Thy throne ! 
 
 So brilliant here those drops of light— 
 
 There the full ocean rolls, how bright! 
 
 If night’s blue curtain of the sky 
 With thousand stars inwrought, 
 
 Hung like a royal canopy 
 
 With glittering diamonds fraught. 
 
 Be, Lord, Thy temple’s outer veil, 
 
 What splendour at the shrine must dwell 1 
 
 The dazzling sun, at noontide hour, 
 
 Forth from his flaming vase, 
 
 Flinging o’er earth the golden shower, 
 
 Till vale and mountain blaze, 
 
 But shows, O Lord ! one beam of Thine : 
 What, then, the day where Thou dost shine ! 
 
 Ah ! how shall these dim eyes endure 
 That noon of living rays, 
 
 Or how my spirit so impure 
 Upon Thy glory gaze ? 
 
 Anoint, O Lord ! anoint my sight, 
 
 And robe me for that world of light. 
 
 Muhlenberg. 
 
 1763. HEAVEN. Godin 
 
 Yes, ’tis God’s presence gives the welcomed blest 
 Their joy and bliss supreme. With Him to dwell, 
 To see His glory, and His praises tell, 
 
 To copy Him of perfectness possest, 
 
 The Holy, Holy, Holy ! First and best 
 Of joys, fruition’s base and pinnacle ; 
 
 Without Him, heaven would more resemble hell; 
 Darkness with Him were light, and labour rest. 
 
 Mant. 
 
 1764. HEAVEN: has its seat in the soul. 
 
 In Thee my powers, my treasures live. 
 
 To Thee my life must tend ; 
 
 Giving Thyself, Thou all dost give, 
 
 O soul-sufficing Friend ! 
 
 And wherefore should I seek above 
 The city in the sky ? 
 
 Since firm in faith, and deep in love, 
 
 Its broad foundations lie? 
 
 Since in a life of peace and prayer, 
 
 Nor known on earth, nor praised, 
 
 By humblest toil, by ceaseless care, 
 
 Its holy towers are raised ? 
 
 Where pain the soul hath purified, 
 
 And penitence hath shriven, 
 
 And truth is crown’d and glorified, 
 
 There—only there—is heaven. 
 
 Eliza Scudder. 
 
 1765- HEAVEN: how it is to be reached. 
 
 Heaven is not reach’d by a single bound ; 
 
 But we build the ladder by which we rise 
 From the lowly earth to the vaulted skies, 
 
 And we mount to its summit round by round. 
 
 I count this thing to be grandly true: 
 
 That a noble deed is a step toward God, 
 
 Lifting the soul from the common clod, 
 
 To a purer air and a broader view. 
 
 We rise by the things that are under feet; 
 
 By what we have master’d of good and gain, 
 
 By the pride deposed and the passion slain, 
 
 And the vanquish’d ills that we hourly meet. 
 
 We hope, we aspire, we resolve, we trust, 
 
 When the morning calls us to life and light; 
 
 But our hearts grow weary, and ere the night 
 Our lives are trailing the sordid dust. 
 
 We hope, we resolve, we aspire, we pray, 
 
 And we think that we mount the air on wings 
 Beyond the recall of sensual things, 
 
 While our feet still cling to the heavy clay. 
 
 Wings for the angels, but feet for men ! 
 
 We may borrow the wings to find the way; 
 
 We may hope, and resolve, and aspire, and pray; 
 But our feet must rise, or we fall again. 
 
 Only in dreams is a ladder thrown 
 
 From the weary earth to the sapphire walls ; 
 
 But the dreams depart, and the vision falls, 
 
 And the sleeper wakes on his pillow of stone. 
 
 Heaven is not reach’d at a single bound ; 
 
 But we build the ladder by which we rise 
 From the lowly earth to the vaulted skies, 
 
 And we mount to its summit round by round. 
 
 J. G. Holland. 
 
 1766. HEAVEN: incorruptible. 
 
 No joy is true, save that which hath no end ; 
 
 No life is true, save that which liveth ever; 
 
 No health is sound, save that which God doth send ; 
 No love is real, save that which changeth never. 
 
 Heaven were no heaven, if its dear light could fade ; 
 
 If its fair glory could hereafter wane ; 
 
 If its sweet skies could suffer stain or shade, 
 
 Or its soft breezes waft one note of pain. 
 
HE A VEN 
 
 34i 
 
 HE A VEN 
 
 And what would be the city of the just, 
 
 If time could shake its battlements, or age 
 
 Could crumble down its palaces to dust, 
 
 Or with its towers victorious warfare wage ; 
 
 If its pure river could sink low or cease, 
 
 Or its rich palm-boughs shed the leaf and die ; 
 
 If there could pass upon its loveliness 
 One darkening taint of time’s mortality ; 
 
 If its high harmonies could lose their tone, 
 
 Or one of its glad songs could silenced be ; 
 
 If, of its voices, even the feeblest one 
 Should falter in the glorious melody ; 
 
 If one of all its stars should e’er grow faint, 
 
 Or one of its bright lamps should e’er bum low ; 
 
 If through its happy air, decay’s dull taint 
 Should for a moment its dark poison throw ! 
 
 But no. Its beauty is for ever vernal; 
 
 Its glory is the glory of its King, 
 
 Undying, incorruptible, eternal; 
 
 And ever new the songs its dwellers sing.— Bonar. 
 
 1767. HEAVEN : its blessedness. 
 
 In the Fount of life perennial the parch’d heart its 
 thirst would slake, 
 
 And the soul, in flesh imprison’d, longs her prison- 
 walls to break,— 
 
 Exile, seeking, sighing, yearning in her fatherland to 
 wake. 
 
 There no moon shines chill and changing, there no 
 stars with twinkling ray, 
 
 For the Lamb of that blest city is at once the Sun 
 and Day; 
 
 Night and time are known no longer, day shall never 
 fade away. 
 
 There the saints like suns are radiant, like the sun at 
 dawn they glow ; 
 
 Crowned victors after conflict, all their joys together 
 flow, 
 
 And secure they count the battles where they fought 
 the prostrate foe. 
 
 Every stain of flesh is cleansed, every strife is left 
 behind, 
 
 Spiritual are their bodies, perfect unity of mind ; 
 
 Dwelling in deep peace for ever, no offence or grief 
 they find. 
 
 Putting off their mortal vesture, in their Source their 
 souls they steep,— 
 
 Truth by actual vision learning, on its form their gaze 
 they, keep,— 
 
 Drinking from the living Fountain draughts of living 
 waters deep. 
 
 Time, with all its alternations, enters not those hosts 
 among ; 
 
 Glorious, wakeful, blest, no shade of chance or 
 change o’er them is flung ; 
 
 Sickness cannot touch the deathless, nor old age the 
 ever young. 
 
 There their being is eternal, things that cease have 
 ceased to be ; 
 
 All corruption there has perish’d, there they flourish 
 strong and free ; 
 
 Thus mortality is swallow’d up of life eternally. 
 
 Nought from them is hidden, knowing Him to 
 whom all things are known, 
 
 All the spirit’s deep recesses, sinless to each other 
 shown,— 
 
 Unity of will and purpose, heart and mind for ever one. 
 
 Diverse as their varied labours, the rewards to each 
 that fall, 
 
 But Love, what she loves in others, evermore her 
 own doth call; 
 
 Thus the several joy of each becomes the common 
 joy of all. 
 
 Ever fill’d, and ever seeking, what they have they 
 still desire, 
 
 Hunger there shall fret them never, nor satiety shall 
 tire,— 
 
 Still enjoying whilst aspiring, in their joy they still 
 aspire. 
 
 There the new song, new for ever, those melodious 
 voices sing, 
 
 Ceaseless streams of fullest music through those 
 blessed regions ring, 
 
 Crowned victors ever bringing praises worthy of the 
 King ! 
 
 Blessed who the King of heaven in Plis beauty thus 
 behold, 
 
 And beneath His throne rejoicing see the universe 
 unfold,— 
 
 Sun, and moon, and stars, and planets, radiant in 
 His light unroll’d ! 
 
 Christ, the Palm of faithful victors, of that city make 
 me free ; 
 
 When my warfare shall be ended to its mansions lead 
 Thou me; 
 
 Grant me, with its happy inmates, sharer of Thy 
 gifts to be ! 
 
 Let Thy soldier, yet contending, still be with Thy 
 strength supplied; 
 
 Thou wilt not deny the quiet when the arms are laid 
 aside, 
 
 Make me meet with Thee for ever in that country to 
 abide !—Damiani , tr. by Mrs Charles. 
 
HE A VEN 
 
 342 
 
 HE A VEN 
 
 1768. HEAVEN: its joys anticipated. 
 
 The sands of time are sinking, 
 
 The dawn of heaven breaks, 
 
 The summer morn I’ve sigh’d for, 
 The fair, sweet morn awakes. 
 
 Dark, dark hath been the midnight, 
 But dayspring is at hand, 
 
 And glory, glory dwelleth 
 In Immanuel’s Land ! 
 
 There the red rose of Sharon 
 Unfolds its heartmost bloom, 
 
 And fills the air of heaven 
 With ravishing perfume. 
 
 Oh, to behold it blossom, 
 
 While by its fragrance fann’d, 
 Where glory, glory dwelleth 
 In Immanuel’s Land ! 
 
 The King there in His beauty. 
 Without a veil, is seen ; 
 
 ‘It were a well-spent journey, 
 
 Though seven deaths lay between ! ’ 
 The Lamb, with His fair army. 
 
 Doth on Mount Zion stand ; 
 
 And glory, glory dwelleth 
 In Immanuel’s Land ! 
 
 O Christ! He is the fountain. 
 
 The deep sweet well of love : 
 
 The streams on earth I’ve tasted, 
 
 More deep I’ll drink above. 
 
 There to an ocean’s fulness 
 His mercy doth expand ; 
 
 And glory, glory dwelleth 
 In Immanuel’s Land ! 
 
 Fair An worth by the Solway, 
 
 To me thou art still dear ; 
 
 E’en from the verge of heaven, 
 
 I drop for thee a tear. 
 
 Oh, if one soul from Anworth 
 Meet me at God’s right hand, 
 
 My heaven will be two heavens 
 In Immanuel’s Land ! 
 
 I’ve wrestled on towards heaven 
 ’Gainst storm, and wind, and tide ; 
 Now, like a weary traveller 
 That leaneth on his guide, 
 
 Amid the shades of evening, 
 
 While sinks life’s lingering sand, 
 
 I hail the glory dawning 
 From Immanuel’s Land ! 
 
 With mercy and with judgment, 
 
 My web of time He wove ; 
 
 And aye the dews of sorrow 
 Were lustred with His love. 
 
 I’ll bless the hand that guided, 
 
 I’ll bless the heart that plann’d, 
 
 When throned where glory dwelleth, 
 
 In Immanuel’s Land ! 
 
 The Bride eyes not her garments, 
 
 But her dear Bridegroom’s face ; 
 
 I will not gaze at glory, 
 
 But at my King of grace ! 
 
 Not at the crown He giveth, 
 
 But on His pierced hand ; 
 
 The Lamb is all the glory 
 
 Of Immanuel’s Land !— Rutherford . 
 
 1769. HEAVEN: its present enjoyment. 
 
 While in this bleak world I tarry, 
 
 In another world I live ; 
 
 While this life’s sore cross I carry, 
 
 Wear the crown that life doth give. 
 
 There I find in full completeness 
 All the joys that cheat me here. 
 
 There life’s flowers keep all their sweetness, 
 Blighted not by frost or tear. 
 
 There the light is ever golden ; 
 
 There’s no night with chilling dew ; 
 
 There the happy years and olden 
 Meet the happy days and new. 
 
 There no storm-clouds ever gather, 
 Drenching all my garden ground ; 
 
 There the sunny summer weather 
 Of the heart is ever found. 
 
 There the true and tender-hearted 
 Meet me from the farther shore ; 
 
 There the loved and long departed 
 Take me to their heart once more ; 
 
 There the ties that years have broken 
 (Life, like death, can part as well) 
 
 Are renew’d, and sweet words spoken 
 Mortal tongues may never tell. 
 
 There are hearts and souls unfetter’d, 
 
 Earth’s conventions far above ; 
 
 There the wise and the unletter’d 
 Meet upon the plane of love ; 
 
 There to prison’d souls is given 
 All the truth that sets them free ; 
 
 There is light and warmth and Heaven, 
 There is love and liberty. 
 
 Blessed land of the ideal ! 
 
 Blessed life my soul doth live ! 
 
 Blessed world ! the true, the real ; 
 
 This the shadow that doth give. 
 
HE A YEN 
 
 343 
 
 HE A YEN 
 
 Spread, O human hearts, your pinions ! 
 
 Rise to all that’s fair and sweet ! 
 
 That is Life’s own bright dominions, 
 
 This the clouds beneath our feet. 
 
 Mrs J. G. Burnett. 
 
 1770. HEAVEN : its present influence. 
 
 There is a city of the saints, 
 
 Where we ere long shall stand, 
 
 When we shall strike these desert tents, 
 
 And quit the desert sand. 
 
 Fair vision ! how thy distant gleam 
 Brightens time’s saddest hue ; 
 
 Far fairer than the fairest dream, 
 
 And yet so strangely true ! 
 
 With thee in view, the rugged slope 
 Becomes a level way, 
 
 Smooth’d by the magic of thy hope, 
 
 And gladden’d by thy ray. 
 
 With thee in view, how poor appear 
 The world’s most winning smiles ; 
 
 Vain is the tempter’s subtlest snare, 
 
 And vain hell’s varied wiles. 
 
 Now welcome toil, and care, and pain ! 
 
 And welcome sorrow too ! 
 
 All toil is rest, all grief is gain, 
 
 With such a prize in view.— Bonar. 
 
 1771. HEAVEN : its present influence. 
 
 Going home ! and going quickly ! 
 
 ’Tis a thought to cheer the heart : 
 
 Should we suffer, be it meekly, 
 
 Soon the world and we must part, 
 
 Never more to meet again ; 
 
 There’s an end of suffering then, 
 
 There’s an end of all that grieves us ; 
 
 How the thought of this relieves us ! 
 
 Going home ! How sweet and cheering ! 
 
 Thinks of kindred, friends, and brothers, 
 
 But of Christ above all others. 
 
 ’Tis the blessed hope of seeing 
 Him he loves in glory there, 
 
 Blessed hope of ever being 
 
 With the Lord, His joys to share ; 
 
 ’Tis the hope which lightens toil, 
 
 And in sorrow makes him smile, 
 
 Cheers him in the midst of strangers, 
 
 Keeps him when beset with dangers. 
 
 Going home ! Then it behoves us 
 Here to live as strangers do ; 
 
 When the trial comes, it proves us, 
 
 Proves if we have faith or no : 
 
 Let us make the promise sure, 
 
 Let us to the end endure, 
 
 In the Saviour’s love abiding, 
 
 In the Saviour’s strength confiding. 
 
 1772. HEAVEN. Knowledge in 
 
 The saints on earth, when sweetly they converse, 
 And the dear favours of kind Heaven rehearse, 
 
 Each feels the other’s joys ; both doubly share 
 The blessings which devoutly they compare. 
 
 If saints such mutual joy feel here below, 
 
 When they each other’s heavenly foretastes know, 
 What joys transport them at each other’s sight, 
 When they shall meet in empyreal height ! 
 
 Friends, even in heaven, one happiness would miss, 
 Should they not know each other when in bliss. 
 
 Ken. 
 
 1773. HEAVEN. Meetings in 
 
 Oh, when a mother meets on high 
 The babe she lost in infancy, 
 
 Hath she not then, for pains and fears, 
 
 The day of woe, the watchful night, 
 
 For all her sorrow, all her tears, 
 
 An over-payment of delight ?— Southey. 
 
 1774. HEAVEN. Nearing 
 
 Going to the place we love, 
 
 There in royal state appearing 
 ’Mid the shining court above : 
 
 There our Father lives and reigns, 
 Greater He than fancy feigns ; 
 
 There His people live for ever, 
 
 There’s a portion failing never. 
 
 Going home ! There’s nothing dearer 
 To the pilgrim’s heart than home. 
 Drawing nearer still and nearer 
 
 To the place where pilgrims come ; 
 Much he thinks of what will be, 
 
 Much of what he hopes to see, 
 
 One sweetly solemn thought 
 Comes to me o’er and o’er ; 
 
 I’m nearer home to-day, 
 
 Than I have been before : 
 
 Nearer my Father’s house, 
 Where many mansions be, 
 
 Nearer the great white throne, 
 Nearer the crystal sea. 
 
 Nearer the bound of life, 
 
 Where burdens are laid down, 
 
 Nearer to leave the cross, 
 
 And nearer to the crown ; 
 
HE A VEN 
 
 344 
 
 HE A VEN 
 
 But lying dark between, 
 
 And winding through the night, 
 
 The deep and unknown stream 
 Cross’d ere we reach the light. 
 
 Jesus, confirm my trust; 
 
 Strengthen the hand of faith 
 To feel Thee, when I stand 
 Upon the shore of death. 
 
 Be near me when my feet 
 Are slipping o’er the brink, 
 
 For I am nearer home, 
 
 Perhaps, than now I think.— Phoebe Carey. 
 
 1775 - HEAVEN. Nearness of 
 
 Surely, yon heaven, where angels see God’s face, 
 
 Is not so distant as we deem 
 From this low earth? ’Tis but a little space, 
 
 The narrow crossing of a slender stream ; 
 
 ’Tis but a veil, which winds might blow aside ; 
 
 Yes, these are all that us of earth divide 
 From the bright dwelling of the glorified—- 
 The Land of which I dream !— Bonar . 
 
 1776. HEAVEN. No night in 
 
 No night shall be in heaven ! no gathering gloom 
 Shall o’er that glorious landscape ever come ; 
 
 No tears shall fall in sadness o’er those flowers 
 That breathe their fragrance through celestial bowers. 
 
 No night shall be in heaven ! no dreadful hour 
 Of mental darkness, or the tempter’s power 1 — 
 
 Across those skies no envious cloud shall roll. 
 
 To dim the sunlight of the raptured soul. 
 
 No night shall be in heaven ! but endless noon; 
 
 No fast-declining sun, nor waning moon; 
 
 But there the Lamb shall yield perpetual light, 
 
 ’Mid pastures green, and waters ever bright. 
 
 No night shall be in heaven! no darken’d room, 
 
 No bed of death, nor silence of the tomb ; 
 
 But breezes ever fresh with love and truth, 
 
 Shall brace the frame with an immortal youth. 
 
 No night shall be in heaven ! But night is here ! 
 The night of sorrow and the night of fear ; 
 
 I mourn the ills that now my steps attend, 
 
 And shrink from others that may yet impend. 
 
 No night shall be in heaven! Oh, had I faith 
 To rest in what the faithful Witness saith, 
 
 That faith should make these hideous phantoms flee, 
 And leave no night, henceforth, on earth to me. 
 
 1777. HEAVEN. No stranger in 
 
 I WAS no stranger in a strange land there : 
 
 But rather as one who travel-worn and weary, 
 
 Weary of wandering through many climes, 
 
 At length returning homeward, eyes far off 
 The white cliffs of his fatherland, and ere 
 The labouring ship touches its sacred soil 
 Leaps on the pier, while round him crowding press 
 Children and kith and friends, who in a breath 
 Ask of his welfare, and with joyous tongues 
 Pour all their love into his thirsty ear.— Bickersteth. 
 
 177S. HEAVEN : not to be sacrificed for the 
 pleasures of earth. 
 
 The world, in all its boasted grandeur proud, 
 
 In all its stores of dazzling splendour bright, 
 
 Is but a transient, unsubstantial cloud, 
 
 Which the sun skirts with momentary light : 
 
 Anon, the assailing winds impetuous rise, 
 
 Black lowers the tempest in the sullen skv ; 
 
 Before the driving blast the vision dies, 
 
 And all the vivid tints of splendour fly ; 
 
 Pass but a moment, eveiy ray is gone; 
 
 Nor e’en a vestige left where the bright glories shone. 
 
 And shall we, for this visionary gleam, 
 
 Degenerate, swerve from Heaven’s immortal plan ? 
 Give up, for vanity’s light airy dream, 
 
 The nobler heritage reserved for man ?— Hayes. 
 
 1779. HEAVEN. Obscurity of 
 
 As through the artist’s intervening glass 
 Our eye observes the distant planets pass ; 
 
 A little we discover, but allow 
 
 That more remains unseen than art can show : 
 
 So whilst our mind its knowledge would improve 
 (Its feeble eye intent on things above), 
 
 High as we may we lift our reason up, 
 
 By faith directed, and confirm’d by hope : 
 
 Yet we are able only to survey 
 Dawnings of beams, and promises of day. 
 
 Heaven’s fuller effluence mocks our dazzled sight; 
 Too great its swiftness, and too strong its light: 
 
 But soon the mediate clouds shall be dispell’d ; 
 
 The sun shall then be face to face beheld, 
 
 In all his robes, with all his glory on, 
 
 Seated sublime on his meridian throne.— Prior. 
 
 1780. HEAVEN : our home. 
 
 There is a blessed home 
 Beyond this land of woe, 
 
 Where trials never come, 
 
 Nor tears of sorrow flow ; 
 
BE A VEN 
 
 345 
 
 HE A VEN 
 
 Where faith is lost in sight, 
 
 And patient hope is crown’d, 
 
 And everlasting light 
 Its glory throws around. 
 
 There is a land of peace, 
 
 Good angels know it well; 
 
 Glad songs that never cease 
 Within its portals swell ; 
 
 Around its glorious throne 
 Ten thousand saints adore 
 Christ, with the Father One, 
 
 And Spirit, evermore. 
 
 O joy all joys beyond, 
 
 To see the Lamb who died, 
 
 And count each sacred wound 
 In hands and feet and side ! 
 
 To give to Him the praise 
 Of every triumph won, 
 
 And sing through endless days 
 The great things He hath done. 
 
 Look up, ye saints of God, 
 
 Nor fear to tread below 
 The path your Saviour trod 
 Of daily toil and woe ; 
 
 Wait but a little while 
 In uncomplaining love, 
 
 His own most gracious smile 
 
 Shall welcome you above.— Baker. 
 
 1781. HEAVEN. Prayer for 
 
 Oh ! bring us home at last, 
 
 Thou who didst guide us when our morn was 
 bright ; 
 
 Darkness is falling fast, 
 
 Gather Thy children home before the night. 
 
 Oh ! bring us home at last; 
 
 The evening mists steal o’er us, damp and chill, 
 
 While autumn’s moaning blast 
 
 Sweeps in sad music over vale and hill. 
 
 Oh ! bring us home at last: 
 
 Have we much farther through the night to go ? 
 
 Have we not almost pass’d 
 
 The wilderness ? Thou wilt not leave us so. 
 
 Oh! bring us home at last, 
 
 Our Father ! Bid our weary wanderings cease, 
 
 L T plift the veil o’ercast 
 
 Between our spirits and the home of peace. 
 
 1782. HEAVEN. Recognition in 
 
 When we hear the music ringing 
 In the bright celestial dome— 
 
 When sweet angels’ voices singing, 
 
 Gladly bid us welcome home 
 
 To the land of ancient story. 
 
 Where the spirit knows no care, 
 
 In that land of life and glory— 
 
 Shall we know each other there ? 
 
 When the holy angels meet us, 
 
 As we go to join their band, 
 
 Shall we know the friends that greet us 
 In that glorious spirit land? 
 
 Shall we see the same eyes shining 
 On us as in days of yore ? 
 
 Shall we feel the dear arms twining 
 Fondly round us as before? 
 
 Yes, my earth-worn soul rejoices, 
 
 And my weary heart grows light, 
 
 For the thrilling angels’ voices, 
 
 And the angel faces bright, 
 
 That shall welcome us in heaven, 
 
 Are the loved ones long ago ; 
 
 And to them ’tis kindly given 
 
 Thus their mortal friends to know. 
 
 O ye weary, sad, and toss’d ones, 
 
 Droop not, faint not by the way; 
 
 Ye shall join the loved and just ones 
 In that land of perfect day. 
 
 Harp-strings touch’d by angel fingers ; 
 Murmur’d in my rapturous ear ; 
 
 Evermore their sweet song lingers : 
 
 ‘ We shall know each other there.’ 
 
 1783. HEAVEN. Scorning 
 
 Belial. What place can be for us 
 
 Within heaven’s bound,unless heaven’s Lord supreme 
 We overpower ! Suppose He should relent, 
 
 And publish grace to all, on promise made 
 Of new subjection ; with what eyes could we 
 Stand in His presence humble, and receive 
 Strict laws imposed, to celebrate His throne 
 With warbled hymns, and to His Godhead sing 
 Forced hallelujahs ; while He lordly sits 
 Our envied Sov’reign, and His altar breathes 
 Ambrosial odours, and ambrosial flowers, 
 
 Our servile off rings? This must be our task 
 In heaven, this our delight; how wearisome 
 Eternity so spent in worship paid 
 To whom we hate !— Milton. 
 
 1784. HEAVEN : the end of the Christian’s pil¬ 
 
 grimage . 
 
 Heavenward still our pathway tends, 
 
 Here on earth we are but strangers ; 
 
HE A YEN 
 
 346 
 
 HE A YEN 
 
 Till our road in Canaan ends, 
 
 Safely pass’d this wild of dangers, 
 
 Pilgrims we, a scatter’d band, 
 
 Seek above our Fatherland. 
 
 Heavenward still, my soul, ascend ! 
 
 Thou art one of Heaven’s creations; 
 
 Earth can ne’er give aim or end 
 Fit to fill thy aspirations : 
 
 Turns a heaven-illumined mind 
 Evermore its source to find. 
 
 Heavenward still! God’s volume blest, 
 Thus, throughout its sacred pages, 
 
 Calls me on, and speaks of rest, 
 
 Rest with Him through endless ages ; 
 While my heart that call attends, 
 
 Still to heaven my path ascends. 
 
 Heavenward still my thoughts arise, 
 
 When His festal board invites me ; 
 
 Then my spirit upward flies, 
 
 Foretaste then of heaven delights me : 
 When on earth this food has ceased, 
 
 Comes the Lamb’s own Marriage-feast. 
 
 Heavenward still my spirit wends, 
 
 That fair land by faith exploring ; 
 Heavenward still my heart ascends, 
 
 Sun and moon and stars out-soaring; 
 
 Their faint rays in vain would try 
 Once with light of heaven to vie. 
 
 Heavenward still ! when life shall close, 
 Death to my true home shall guide me ; 
 There, triumphant o’er my woes, 
 
 Lasting bliss shall God provide me : 
 
 Christ Himself the way has led. 
 
 Joyful in His steps I tread. 
 
 Still then heavenward ! heavenward still ! 
 
 That shall be my watchword ever! 
 
 Joys of heaven my heart shall fill, 
 
 Chasing joys that fill’d it never : 
 Heavenward still my thoughts shall run, 
 
 Till the gate of heaven is won. 
 
 Sckmolke, tr. by Miss Cox. 
 
 1785. HEAVEN. The Indian’s 
 
 Lo, the poor Indian, whose untutor’d mind 
 Sees God in clouds, or hears Him in the wind ; 
 His soul proud science never taught to stray 
 Far as the solar walk, or milky-way ; 
 
 Yet simple nature to his hope has given 
 Behind the cloud-topp’d hill an humbler heaven ; 
 Some safer world in depth of woods embraced, 
 Some happier island in the watery waste, 
 
 Where slaves once more their native land behold; 
 No fiends torment, no Christian thirst for gold : 
 
 To be, contents his natural desire, 
 
 He asks no angel’s wing, no seraph’s fire ; 
 
 But thinks, admitted to that equal sky, 
 
 His faithful dog shall bear him company.— Pope. 
 
 1786. HEAVEN : unveiled 
 
 What no human eye hath seen, what no mortal ear 
 hath heard, 
 
 What on thought hath never been, in its noblest 
 flights, conferr’d— 
 
 This hath God prepared in store 
 For His people evermore ! 
 
 When the shaded pilgrim-land fades before the 
 closing eye, 
 
 Then, reveal’d on either hand, heaven’s own scenery 
 shall lie; 
 
 Then the veil of flesh shall fall, 
 
 Now concealing, darkening all. 
 
 When this aching heart shall rest, all its busy pulses 
 o’er, 
 
 From her mortal robes undrest, shall my spirit up¬ 
 ward soar : 
 
 Then shall unimagined joy 
 
 All my thoughts and powers employ. 
 
 Lange. 
 
 1787. HEAVEN : will not be strange to us. 
 
 No, not strange the Land and far, 
 
 Where the ‘ many mansions ’ are : 
 
 Drawing near the pearly gate, 
 
 I am sure some one must wait 
 For my spirit, some dear heart, 
 
 Knowing ’twere a lonesome part 
 Even to enter heaven alone, 
 
 Find but strangers round God’s throne. 
 
 When, a dreamful day ago, 
 
 To this sweet earth singing low 
 Cradle songs through groves of May 
 Came I, and, a baby, lay 
 Just within the gates of life, 
 
 Waiting for its joy and strife, 
 
 Holiest love that bides on earth 
 Folded round me at my birth, 
 
 Home and raiment were prepared, 
 
 As a child beloved I fared. 
 
 Not with love less true and deep 
 Angels up in heaven keep 
 Watch for children coming there. 
 
 He who does a place prepare, 
 
HEAVEN AND EARTH 
 
 347 
 
 HEAVEN AND EARTH 
 
 Knows full well that many come 
 From dear human friends and home; 
 
 Home and friends shall ready be, 
 
 And God’s work for thee and me. 
 
 Earth, whose fulness is the Lord’s, 
 
 Sweet thy work and thy rewards ; 
 
 Yet without regret I go, 
 
 From God’s vineyard here below, 
 
 To His higher pastures, where, 
 
 Still beneath His tender care, 
 
 Life shall be more dear and sweet, 
 
 Being nearer to His feet. 
 
 Elizabeth Converse. 
 
 1788. HEAVEN AND EARTH. Contrast of 
 
 U P above, the thoughts that know not anguish, 
 Tender care, sweet love for us below, 
 
 Noble pity, free from anxious terror, 
 
 Larger love, without a touch of woe. 
 
 Down below, a sad, mysterious music, 
 
 Wailing through the woods and on the shore, 
 Burden’d with a grand, majestic secret 
 That keeps sweeping from us evermore. 
 
 Up above, the music that entwineth 
 With eternal threads of golden sound 
 The great poem of this strange existence, 
 
 All whose wondrous meaning hath been found. 
 
 Down below, the church, to whose poor window 
 Glory by the autumnal trees is lent, 
 
 And a knot of worshippers in mourning, 
 
 Missing some one at the sacrament. 
 
 Up above, the burst of Hallelujah, 
 
 And (without the sacramental mist 
 Wrapp’d around us like a sunlit halo) 
 
 The great vision of the face of Christ. 
 
 1789. HEAVEN AND EARTH. Joys of 
 
 The roseate hues of early dawn, 
 
 The brightness of the day, 
 
 The crimson of the sunset sky, 
 
 How fast they fade away ! 
 
 Oh, for the pearly gates of heaven ! 
 
 Oh, for the golden floor ! 
 
 Oh, for the Sun of Righteousness 
 That setteth nevermore ! 
 
 The highest hopes we cherish here, 
 
 How fast they tire and faint ! 
 
 I How many a spot defiles the robe 
 
 That wraps an earthly saint ! 
 
 Oh, for a heart that never sins ! 
 
 Oh, for a soul wash’d white ! 
 
 Oh, for a voice to praise our King, 
 
 Nor weary day or night ! 
 
 Here faith is ours, and heavenly hope, 
 
 And grace to lead us higher ; 
 
 But there are perfectness and peace 
 Beyond our best desire. 
 
 Oh, by Thy love and anguish, Lord ! 
 
 Oh, by Thy life laid down ! 
 
 Oh, that we fall not from Thy grace, 
 
 Nor cast away Thy crown ! 
 
 C. F. Alexander. 
 
 1790. HEAVEN AND EARTH. Worlds of 
 
 Two worlds there are. To one our eyes we strain, 
 Whose magic joys we shall not see again ; 
 
 Bright haze of morning veils its glimmering shore. 
 Ah, truly breathed we there 
 Intoxicating air ; 
 
 Glad were our hearts in that sweet realm of 
 Nevermore. 
 
 The lover there drank her delicious breath, 
 
 Whose love has yielded since to change or death ; 
 The mother kiss’d the child whose days are o’er. 
 Alas ! too soon have fled 
 The irreclaimable dead: 
 
 We see them—visions strange—amid the 
 Nevermore. 
 
 The merry song some maiden used to sing— 
 
 The brown, brown hair that once was wont to cling 
 To temples long clay-cold: to the very core 
 They strike our weary hearts, 
 
 As some vex’d memory starts 
 From that long-faded land—the realm of 
 Nevermore. 
 
 It is perpetual summer there. But here 
 Sadly we may remember rivers clear, 
 
 And harebells quivering on the meadow-floor. 
 
 For brighter bells and bluer, 
 
 For tender hearts and truer, 
 
 People that happy land,—the realm of 
 Nevermore. 
 
 Upon the frontier of this shadowy land, 
 
 We, pilgrims of eternal sorrow, stand. 
 
 What realm lies forward, with its happier store 
 Of forests green and deep, 
 
 Of valleys hush’d in sleep, 
 
 And lakes most peaceful ? ’Tis the land of 
 Evermore. 
 
 Very far off its marble cities seem ; 
 
 Very far off—beyond our sensual dream— 
 
HELL 
 
 348 
 
 heritage 
 
 Its woods, unruffled by the wild winds’ roar ; 
 
 Yet does the turbulent surge 
 Howl on its very verge. 
 
 One moment and we breathe within the 
 Evermore. 
 
 They whom we loved and lost so long ago, 
 
 Dwell in those cities, far from mortal woe_ 
 
 Haunt those fresh woodlands, whence sweet carol- 
 lings soar. 
 
 Eternal peace have they ; 
 
 God wipes their tears away. 
 
 Thither we hasten through the regions dim, 
 
 But lo ! the wide wings of the seraphim 
 Shine in the sunset! On that joyous shore 
 Our lighten’d hearts shall know 
 The life of long ago ; 
 
 The sorrow-burden’d past shall.fade for 
 Evermore. 
 
 1791 . HELL: has its seat in the soul of the 
 wicked. 
 
 here sighs, and groans, and lamentable wailint 
 So rang throughout that region without star 
 That on the threshold I began to weep: 
 Horrible tongues, discordant languages, 
 
 Y ords full of dolour, accents of sharp anger, 
 Shrill and hoarse voices, sounds of smitten hand 
 Rose m wild tumult, eddying through the gloom 
 Like sands before the whirlwind of the desert. 
 
 Dante , tr. by James Montgomery. 
 
 I 794 ‘ HELP. Mutual 
 
 One day a blind man chanced to meet 
 A lame one limping in the street ; 
 
 The former hoped with fond delight, 
 
 The latter would conduct him right. 
 
 The lame man cried, ‘ Lend aid to thee ? 
 
 I cannot walk, unhappy me ! 
 
 And yet, methinks, to bear a load, 
 
 Thou hast good shoulders strong and broad. 
 
 Hell hath no limits, nor is circumscribed 
 In one self place ; but where we are is hell, 
 
 And where hell is, there must we ever be ; 
 
 And, to be short, when all the world dissolves 
 And every creature shall be purified, 
 
 All places shall be hell that are not heaven. 
 
 Marlowe. 
 
 1 79 2 - HELL. Memory a 
 
 I ll tell thee what is hell—thy memory 
 Still mounted up with records of the past, 
 
 Heap over heap, all accents and all forms, 
 Telling the tale of joy and innocence. 
 
 And hope and peace and love ; recording, too. 
 With stern fidelity, the thousand wrongs 
 Wrought upon weakness and defencelessness ; 
 The blest occasions trifled o’er or spurn’d; 
 
 All that hath been that ought not to have been, 
 That might have been so different, that now 
 Can but be irrevocably past.— Starkey. 
 
 1793 . HELL. Portal of 
 
 ‘ Through me, ye go into the doleful city, 
 Through me, ye go into eternal pain, 
 
 Through me, ye go among the lost for ever: 
 ’Twas justice moved my Founder • Power Divine, 
 Infinite Wisdom and primeval Love, 
 
 Ordain’d and fix’d me here. Before’ me nought 
 That is existed, save eternal things, 
 
 And I unto eternity endure ; 
 
 Abandon every hope, all ye that enter ! ’ 
 
 These words in sombre colours I beheld 
 Inscribed upon the summit of its portal. 
 
 If thou’lt resolve to bear me hence, 
 
 111 be thy guide as recompense : 
 
 Thy firm strong foot will then be mine, 
 
 And my bright eye be also thine.’ 
 
 The lame man, with his crutches, rode 
 Upon the blind man’s shoulders broad ; 
 United thus achieved the pair 
 What each would have accomplish’d ne’er. 
 
 Gellert. 
 
 1795 . HERITAGE: of rich and poor. 
 
 The rich man’s son inherits lands, 
 
 And piles of brick, and stone, and gold, 
 And he inherits soft white hands, 
 
 And tender flesh that fears the cold, 
 hv or dares to wear a garment old ; 
 
 A heritage, it seems to me. 
 
 One scarce would wish to hold in fee. 
 
 The rich man’s son inherits wants, 
 
 His stomach craves for dainty fare ; 
 
 With sated heart he hears the pants 
 Of toiling hinds with brown arms bare, 
 
 And wearies in his easy-chair; 
 
 A heritage, it seems to me, 
 
 One scarce would wish to hold in fee. 
 
 Y hat doth the poor man’s son inherit ? 
 
 Stout muscle and a sinewy heart, 
 
 A hardy frame, a hardier spirit; 
 
 King of two hands, he does his part 
 In every useful toil and art; 
 
 A heritage, it seems to me, 
 
 A king might wish to hold in fee. 
 
HERO 
 
 349 
 
 HERO 
 
 What doth the poor man’s son inherit ? 
 
 A patience learn’d of being poor, 
 Courage, if sorrow come, to bear it, 
 
 A fellow-feeling that is sure 
 To make the outcast bless the door ; 
 
 A heritage, it seems to me, 
 
 A king might wish to hold in fee. 
 
 Both, heirs to some six feet of sod, 
 
 Are equal in the earth at last ; 
 
 Both, children of the same dear God, 
 
 Prove title to your heirship vast 
 By record of a well-fill’d past; 
 
 A heritage, it seems to me, 
 
 Well worth a life to hold in fee.— Lowell. 
 
 1796. HERO. A modern 
 
 But dream not helm and harness 
 The sign of valour true ; 
 
 Peace hath higher tests of manhood 
 Than battle ever knew. 
 
 Would’st know him now ? Behold him, 
 The Cadmus of the blind, 
 
 Giving the dumb lip language, 
 
 The idiot clay a mind. 
 
 Walking his round of duty 
 Serenely day by day, 
 
 With the strong man’s hand of labour 
 And childhood’s heart of play. 
 
 True as the knights of story, 
 
 Sir Lancelot and his peers, 
 
 Brave in his calm endurance 
 As they in tilt of spears. 
 
 As waves in stillest waters, 
 
 As stars in noonday skies, 
 
 All that wakes to noble action 
 In his noon of calmness lies. 
 
 Wherever outraged nature 
 Asks word or action brave, 
 
 Wherever struggles labour, 
 
 Wherever groans a slave,— 
 
 Wherever rise the peoples. 
 
 Wherever sinks a throne, 
 
 The throbbing heart of freedom finds 
 An answer in his own. 
 
 Knight of a better era, 
 
 Without reproach or fear ! 
 
 Said I not well that Bayards 
 
 And Sidneys still are here?— Whittier. 
 
 1797. HERO. Death of a 
 
 Not at the battle front—writ of in story ; 
 
 Not on the blazing wreck steering to glory ; 
 
 Not while in martyr-pangs soul and flesh sever, 
 
 Died he—this hero new ; hero for ever. 
 
 No pomp poetic crown’d, no forms enchain’d him, 
 No friends applauding watch’d, no foes arraign’d 
 him : 
 
 Death found him there, without grandeur or beauty, 
 Only an honest man doing his duty : 
 
 Death found—and touch’d with finger in flying: 
 
 Lo ! he rose up complete—hero undying. 
 
 Now all men mourn for him, lovingly raise him 
 Up from his life obscure, chronicle, praise him ; 
 
 Tell his last act, done midst peril appalling, 
 
 And the last word of cheer from his lips falling; 
 
 Follow in multitudes to his grave’s portal ; 
 
 Leave him there, buried in honour immortal. 
 
 So many a hero walks unseen beside us, 
 
 Till comes the supreme stroke sent to divide us. 
 
 Then the Lord calls His own—like this man, even. 
 Carried, Elijah-like, fire-wing’d, to heaven. 
 
 D. M. Muloch Craik. 
 
 1798. HERO. Marks of the 
 
 What makes- a hero?—not success, not fame, 
 Inebriate merchants, and the loud acclaim 
 Of glutted avarice,—caps toss’d up in air, 
 
 Or pen of journalist with flourish fair; 
 
 Bells peal’d, stars, ribbons, and a titular name— 
 These, though his rightful tribute, he can spare ; 
 His rightful tribute not his end or aim, 
 
 Or true reward ; for never yet did these 
 Refresh the soul, or set the heart at ease. 
 
 What makes a hero ?—an heroic mind, 
 
 Express’d in action, in endurance proved. 
 
 And if there be preeminence of right, 
 
 Derived through pain well suffer’d, to the height 
 Of rank heroic, ’tis to bear unmoved, 
 
 Not toil, not risk, not rage of sea or wind, 
 
 Not the brute fury of barbarians blind, 
 
 But worse—ingratitude and poisonous darts 
 Launch’d by the country he had served and loved : 
 This, with a free, unclouded spirit pure, 
 
 This, in the strength of silence to endure, 
 
 A dignity to noble deeds imparts, 
 
 Beyond the gauds and trappings of renown. 
 
 This is the hero’s compliment and crown ; 
 
 This miss’d, one struggle had been wanting still— 
 One glorious triumph of the heroic will, 
 
 One self-approval in his heart of hearts. 
 
 Henry Taylor. 
 
HERO 
 
 350 
 
 HEROES 
 
 1799. HERO : the title is often basely won. 
 
 Mark by what wretched steps their glory grows ; 
 From dirt and sea-weed as proud Venice rose : 
 
 In each how guilt and greatness equal ran, 
 
 And all that raised the hero sunk the man.— Pope. 
 
 1800. HEROES. Forgotten 
 
 Where are the heroes of the ages past ? 
 
 Where the brave chieftains, where the mighty ones 
 Who flourish’d in the infancy of days ? 
 
 All to the grave gone down. On their fallen fame 
 Exultant, mocking at the pride of man, 
 
 Sits grim Forgetfulness. The warrior’s arm 
 Lies nerveless on the pillow of its shame ; 
 
 Hush’d in his stormy voice, and quench’d the blaze 
 Of his red eyeball. Yesterday his name 
 Was mighty on the earth. To-day—’tis what? 
 The meteor of the night of distant years, 
 
 That flash’d unnoticed, save by wrinkled eld, 
 Musing at midnight upon prophecies, 
 
 Who at her lonely lattice saw the gleam 
 Point to the mist-poised shroud, then quietly 
 Closed her pale lips, and lock’d the secret up 
 Safe in the charnel’s treasures.— Kirke White. 
 
 1801. HEROES. God’s 
 
 Not on the gory field of fame 
 Their noble deeds were done; 
 
 Not in the sound of Earth’s acclaim 
 Their fadeless crowns were won. 
 
 Not from the palaces of Kings, 
 
 Nor Fortune’s sunny clime, 
 
 Came the great souls, whose life-work flings 
 Lustre o’er Earth and Time. 
 
 For Truth with tireless zeal they sought; 
 
 In joyless paths they trod ; 
 
 Heedless of praise or blame they wrought, 
 
 And left the rest to God. 
 
 The lowliest sphere was not disdain’d : 
 
 Where love could soothe or save, 
 
 They went, by fearless faith sustain’d, 
 
 Nor knew their deeds were brave. 
 
 The foes with which they waged their strife 
 Were passion, self, and sin ; 
 
 The victories that laurell’d life 
 Were fought and won within. 
 
 Not names in gold emblazon’d here, 
 
 And great and good confest, 
 
 In Heaven’s immortal scroll appear 
 As noblest and as best. 
 
 No sculptured stone in stately temple 
 Proclaims their rugged lot; 
 
 Like Him who was their great example, 
 
 This vain world knew them not. 
 
 But though their names no poet wove 
 In deathless song or story, 
 
 Their record is inscribed above ; 
 
 Their wreaths are crowns of glory. — Dewart. 
 
 1802. HEROES. Moral 
 
 All may be heroes : 
 
 ‘The man who rules his spirit,’ saith the voice 
 Which cannot err, ‘ is greater than the man 
 Who takes a city.’ Hence it surely follows, 
 
 If each might have dominion of himself, 
 
 And each would govern wisely, and thus show 
 Truth, courage, knowledge, power, benevolence, 
 
 And all the princely soul in private virtues ; 
 
 Then each would be a prince, a hero, greater ; 
 
 He will be man in likeness of his Maker ! 
 
 Mrs Hale. 
 
 1803. HEROES. True 
 
 Then to side with Truth is noble when we share 
 her wretched crust, 
 
 Ere her cause bring fame and profit, and ’tis pros¬ 
 perous to be just; 
 
 Then it is the brave man chooses, while the coward 
 stands aside, 
 
 Doubting in his abject spirit, till his Lord is crucified. 
 And the multitude make virtue of the faith they had 
 denied. 
 
 Count me o’er earth’s chosen heroes—that were souls 
 that stood alone, 
 
 While the men they agonized for hurl’d the con¬ 
 tumelious stone, 
 
 Stood serene, and down the future saw the golden 
 beam incline 
 
 To the side of perfect justice master’d by their faith 
 divine, 
 
 By one man’s plain truth to manhood and to God’s 
 supreme design. 
 
 By the light of burning heretics, Christ’s bleeding 
 feet I track, 
 
 Toiling up new Calvarys ever with the cross that 
 turns not back, 
 
 And these mounts of anguish number how each 
 generation learn’d 
 
 One new word of that grand Credo which in prophet- 
 hearts hath burn’d 
 
 Since the first man stood God-conquer’d with his 
 face to heaven upturn’d. 
 
HEROINE 
 
 35 * 
 
 HERO-WORSHIP 
 
 For Humanity sweeps onward : where to-day the 
 martyr stands, 
 
 On the morrow crouches Judas, with the silver in 
 1 his hands; 
 
 Far in front the cross stands ready, and the crackling 
 faggots burn, 
 
 While the hooting mob of yesterday in silent awe 
 return 
 
 To glean up the scatter’d ashes into History’s golden 
 
 urn. 
 
 ■ 'Tis as easy to be heroes as to sit the idle slaves 
 Of a legendary virtue carved upon our fathers’ graves. 
 Worshippers of light ancestral make the present light 
 a crime. 
 
 Was the Mayflower launch’d by cowards, steer’d by 
 men behind their time ? 
 
 Turn those tracks toward Past or Future, that make 
 y Plymouth Rock sublime ?— Lowell. 
 
 1804. HEROINE. Grave of a 
 
 Within this lowly grave a conqueror lies, 
 
 And yet the monument proclaims it not, 
 
 Nor round the sleeper’s name hath chisel wrought 
 The emblems of a fame that never dies ; 
 
 !i Ivy and amaranth, in a graceful sheaf, 
 
 Twined with the laurel’s fair, imperial leaf. 
 
 A simple name alone, 
 
 To the great world unknown, 
 
 Is graven here, and wild-flowers, rising round, 
 
 Meek meadow-sweet and violets of the ground, 
 
 Lean lovingly against the humble stone. 
 
 Here, in the quiet earth, they laid apart 
 No man of iron mould and bloody hands, 
 
 Who sought to wreak upon the cowering lands 
 The passions that consumed his restless heart ; 
 
 But one of tender spirit and delicate frame, 
 
 Gentlest, in mien and mind, 
 
 Of gentle womankind, 
 
 Timidly shrinking from the breath of blame : 
 
 One in whose eyes the smile of kindness made 
 Its haunt, like flowers by sunny brooks in May : 
 Yet, at the thought of others’ pain, a shade 
 Of sweeter sadness chased the smile away. 
 
 Nor deem the hand that moulders here 
 Was raised in menace, realms were chill’d with fear. 
 And armies muster’d at the sign, as when 
 Clouds rise on clouds before the rainy East— 
 
 Grey captains leading bands of veteran men 
 And fiery youths to be the vulture’s feast. 
 
 Not thus were waged the mighty wars that gave 
 The victory to her who fills this grave : 
 
 Alone her task was wrought, 
 
 Alone the battle fought; 
 
 Through that long strife, her constant hope was stay’d 
 On God alone, nor look’d for other aid. 
 
 She met the hosts of sorrow with a look 
 
 That alter’d not beneath the frown they wore ; 
 
 And soon the lowering brood were tamed, and took 
 Meekly her gentle rule, and frown’d no more. 
 
 Her soft hand put aside the assaults of wrath, 
 
 And calmly broke in twain 
 The fiery shafts of pain, 
 
 And rent the nets of passion from her path. 
 
 By that victorious hand despair was slain. 
 
 With love she vanquish’d hate, and overcame 
 Evil with good, in her Great Master’s name. 
 
 Her glory is not of this shadowy state, 
 
 Glory that with the fleeting season dies ; 
 
 But when she enter’d at the sapphire gate. 
 
 What joy was radiant in celestial eyes ! 
 
 How heaven’s bright depths with sounding welcomes 
 rung, 
 
 And flowers of heaven by shining hands were flung. 
 And He who, long before, 
 
 Pain, scorn, and sorrow bore, 
 
 The Mighty Sufferer, with aspect sweet, 
 
 Smiled on the timid stranger from His seat; 
 
 He who returning, glorious, from the grave, 
 
 Dragg’d death, disarm’d, in chains, a crouching slave. 
 
 See, as I linger here, the sun grows low; 
 
 Cool airs are murmuring that the night is near. 
 
 Oh, gentle sleeper, from thy grave I go 
 
 Consoled, though sad, in hope and yet in fear. 
 Brief is the time, I know, 
 
 The warfare scarce begun ; 
 
 Yet all may win the triumphs thou hast won. 
 
 Still flows the fount whose waters strengthen’d thee, 
 The victors’ names are yet too few to fill 
 Heaven’s mighty roll; the glorious armoury, 
 
 That minister’d to thee, is open still.— Bryant. 
 
 1805. HEROISM. Military 
 
 To overcome in battle, and subdue 
 Nations, and bring home spoils with infinite 
 Manslaughter, shall be held the highest pitch 
 Of human glory, and for glory done 
 Of triumph, to be styled great conquerors, 
 
 Patrons of mankind, gods, and sons of gods ; 
 Destroyers rightlier call’d, and plagues of men. 
 
 Milt oil. 
 
 1806. HERO-WORSHIP. 
 
 A little maiden read her books, 
 
 And only loved the more 
 Sir Philip Sidney every day, 
 
 Than even the day before. 
 
HISTORIANS 
 
 352 
 
 HOLINESS 
 
 And when her suitors came to woo, 
 
 She match’d them in her mind 
 With Philip Sidney, one and all, 
 
 But far they fell behind. 
 
 / For this one lack’d the courtliness, 
 
 And this, the perfect grace, 
 
 And this, the learning rare and wide, 
 
 And this, the handsome face. 
 
 And so she sent them all away, 
 
 But only loved the more 
 Sir Philip Sidney every day, 
 
 Than she did the day before. 
 
 O maiden of the fancy bright, 
 
 If it could only be, 
 
 Sir Philip should himself o’erleap 
 For you the centuries three, 
 
 And come upon his doughty steed 
 A-riding to your gate, 
 
 And for your favour crave and sue, 
 
 And for your answer wait, 
 
 I ween you’d look him through and through, 
 But never bid him stay ; 
 
 In favour of his fancied self 
 You’d send himself away. 
 
 1807. HISTORIANS. Follies of 
 
 Some write a narrative of wars and feats 
 Of heroes little known, and call the rant 
 A 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. 
 
 Cozuper. 
 
 1808. HISTORIANS. Rules for 
 
 Historians, only things of weight, 
 
 Results of persons, or affairs of state, 
 
 Briefly, with truth and clearness should relate : 
 Laconic shortness memory feeds.— Heath. 
 
 But seeing causes are the chiefest things 
 That should be noted of the story writers, 
 
 That men may learn what end all causes brings, 
 They be unworthy name of chroniclers, 
 
 That leave them clean out of their registers, 
 
 Or doubtfully report them : for the fruit 
 Of reading stories, standeth in the suit. 
 
 Mirror for Magistrates. 
 
 1809. HISTORY. Duration of 
 
 Rome, whose majesty 
 Is there described, in after times shall owe 
 
 For her memorial to your learned pen, 
 
 More than to all those fading monuments 
 Built with the riches of the spoiled world. 
 
 When rust shall eat her brass, when Time’s strong 
 hand 
 
 Shall bruise to dust her marble palaces, 
 
 Triumphant arches, pillai's, obelisks; 
 
 When Julius’ temple, Claudius’ aqueducts, 
 
 Agrippa’s baths, and Pompey’s theatre ; 
 
 Nay, Rome itself shall not be found at all, 
 Historian’s books shall live ; those strong records, 
 Those deathless monuments, alone shall show 
 What, and how great, the Roman empire was. 
 
 May. 
 
 1810. HOLINESS. Seeking 
 
 Here in Thy royal presence, Lord, I stand ; 
 
 I give myself, my all, to Thee ; 
 
 Thou hast redeem’d me by Thy precious blood ; 
 Thine only will I be. 
 
 No love but Thine, but Thine, can me relieve, 
 
 No light but Thine, but Thine, 'will I receive, 
 
 No light, no love, but Thine ! 
 
 Take, take me as I am. Thou need’st me not, 
 
 I know Thou need’st me not at all: 
 
 All heaven is Thine, all earth, each morning-star; 
 
 High angels wait Thy call; 
 
 I am the poorest of Thy creatures, I 
 The child of evil and dark misery ; 
 
 Yet take me as I am ! 
 
 It would not cost Thee dear to bless me, Lord; 
 
 A word would do it, or a sign, 
 
 It needs no more from Thee, no more, my God; 
 
 Thy words have power divine. 
 
 And oh the boundless blessedness to me, 
 
 Loved, saved, forgiven, renew’d, and blest by Thee ! 
 Oh speak, oh speak the word ! 
 
 I know the blood of Thine eternal Son 
 Has power to cleanse even me; 
 
 Oh wash me now in that all-precious blood ; 
 
 Give my soul purity ; 
 
 Scatter the darkness, bid the day-star shine, 
 
 Light up the midnight of this soul of mine ; 
 
 Let all be song and joy !— Bonar. 
 
 1811. HOLINESS. Throne of 
 
 Know that Holiness keeps her throne 
 Not in cloisters or temples alone ; 
 
 The temple where she loves to dwell 
 Is a pure spirit’s sacred cell. 
 
 L. Van Weltheni. 
 
HOLINESS 
 
 353 
 
 HOLY SPIRIT 
 
 1S12. HOLINESS. Way to 
 
 W ho would be cleansed from every sin, 
 
 Must to God’s holy altar bring 
 i The whole oflife—its joys, its tears, 
 
 Its hopes, its loves, its powers, its years, 
 
 The will, and every cherish’d thing ! 
 
 > Must make this sweeping sacrifice— 
 
 Choose God, and dare reproach and shame, 
 And boldly stand in storm or flame 
 For Him who paid redemption’s price ; 
 
 Then trust (not struggle to believe), 
 
 And trusting wait, nor doubt, but pray 
 That in His own good time He’ll say, 
 
 7 ‘Thy faith hath saved thee ; now receive.’ 
 
 His time is when the soul brings all, 
 
 Is all upon His altar lain ; 
 
 \ When pride and self-conceit are slain, 
 
 And crucified with Christ, we fall 
 Helpless upon His word, and lie : 
 
 Then, faithful to His word, we feel 
 l The cleansing touch, the Spirit’s seal, 
 
 And know that He does sanctify.— Allis. 
 
 . 1813. HOLY SPIRIT. Descent of the 
 
 s 
 
 Swiftly and straight each tongue of flame, 
 Through cloud and breeze unwavering came, 
 
 And darted to its place of rest 
 On some meek brow of Jesus blest. 
 
 Nor fades it yet, that living gleam, 
 
 And still those lambent lightnings stream ; 
 Where’er the Lord is, there are they ; 
 
 In every heart that gives Him room, 
 
 They light His altar every day, 
 
 Zeal to inflame, and vice consume.— Keble. 
 
 1814. HOLY SPIRIT : His indwelling in the 
 human soul. 
 
 His Holy Spirit dwelleth 
 Within my willing heart. 
 
 Tames it when it rebelleth, 
 
 And soothes the keenest smart. 
 
 He crowns His work with blessing, 
 
 And helpeth me to cry 
 ‘ My Father ! ’ without ceasing, 
 
 To Him who dwells on high. 
 
 And when my soul is lying 
 1 Weak, trembling, and opprest, 
 
 He pleads with groans and sighing 
 That cannot be exprest; 
 
 But God’s quick eye discerns them, 
 
 Although they give no sound, 
 
 And into language turns them, 
 
 Even in the heart’s deep ground. 
 
 To mine, His Spirit speaketh 
 Sweet words of soothing power, 
 
 How God, to him that seeketh 
 For rest, hath rest in store. 
 
 There God Himself prepareth \ 
 
 My heritage and lot, 
 
 And though my body weareth, 
 
 My heaven shall fail me not .—Gerharcit. 
 
 I Si 5 - HOLY SPIRIT. Litany to the 
 
 In the hours of my distress, 
 
 When temptations me oppress, 
 
 And when I my sins confess, 
 
 Sweet Spirit, comfort me. 
 
 \\ hen I lie within my bed, 
 
 Sick in heart, and sick in head, 
 
 And with doubts disquieted, 
 
 Sweet Spirit, comfort me. 
 
 Yv lien the house doth sigh and weep, 
 
 And the world is drown’d in sleep, 
 
 \ et mine eyes the watch do keep. 
 
 Sweet Spirit, comfort me. 
 
 When God knows I’m toss’d about 
 Either with despair or doubt, 
 
 Yet before the glass be out, 
 
 Sweet Spirit, comfort me. 
 
 When the tempter me pursueth 
 With the sins of all my youth, 
 
 And reproves me for untruth, 
 
 Sweet Spirit, comfort me. 
 
 When the judgment is reveal’d 
 And that open’d which was seal’d, 
 
 W T hen to Thee I have appeal’d, 
 
 Sweet Spirit, comfort me.— Herrick. 
 
 1816. HOLY SPIRIT. Offices of the 
 
 The Spirit of God 
 
 From heaven descending, dwells in domes of clay; 
 In mode far passing human thought, He guides, 
 Impels, instructs : intense pursuit of good, 
 
 And cautious flight of evil he suggests, 
 
 But in such gentle murmurs, that to know 
 His heavenly voice, we must have done His will. 
 
 Hey. 
 
 1817. PIOLY SPIRIT. Power of the 
 
 Our blest Redeemer, ere He breathed 
 His last farewell, 
 
 A guide—a Comforter, bequeathed, 
 
 With us to dwell. 
 
 23 
 
HOLY SPIRIT 
 
 354 
 
 HOLY SPIRIT 
 
 He came in tongues of living flame 
 To teach, subdue; 
 
 All-powerful as the wind He came, 
 
 As viewless too. 
 
 He comes, His graces to impart; 
 
 A willing guest, 
 
 While He can find one humble heart 
 Wherein to rest. 
 
 He breathes that gentle voice we hear 
 As breeze of even ; 
 
 That checks each fault, that calms each fear, 
 And speaks of heaven. 
 
 And all the good that we possess, 
 
 His gift we own ; 
 
 Yea, every thought of holiness, 
 
 And vict’ry won. 
 
 Spirit of purity and grace, 
 
 Our weakness see ; 
 
 Oh make our hearts Thy dwelling-place, 
 
 And worthier Thee.— Harriet Auber. 
 
 1818. HOLY SPIRIT. Prayer to the 
 
 Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire, 
 
 And lighten with celestial fire : 
 
 Thou the Anointing Spirit art, 
 
 Who dost Thy sevenfold gifts impart. 
 
 Thy blessed unction from above 
 Is comfort, life, and fire of love: 
 
 Enable with perpetual light 
 The dulness of our blinded sight: 
 
 Anoint and cheer our soiled face 
 With the abundance of Thy grace ; 
 
 Keep far our foes ; give peace at home ; 
 Where Thou art Guide, no ill can come. 
 Teach us to know the Father, Son, 
 
 And Thee of Both, to be but One ; 
 
 That, through the ages all along, 
 
 Thy praise may be our endless song. 
 
 A.D. 1662. 
 
 Holy Ghost, with light Divine 
 Shine upon this heart of mine; 
 
 Chase the shades of night away, 
 
 Turn the darkness into day. 
 
 Let me see my Saviour’s face, 
 
 Let me all His beauties trace : 
 
 Show those glorious truths to me 
 Which are only known by Thee.— Reed. 
 
 1819. HOLY SPIRIT. Prayer to the 
 
 Come, heavenly Spirit, come, 
 
 Kind Father of the poor ! 
 
 The Giver and the Gift, 
 
 Enter my lowly door. 
 
 Be Guest within my heart, 
 
 Nor ever hence depart. 
 
 Thou the eternal Truth, 
 
 Into dark hearts steal in! 
 
 Time Light, give light to souls 
 Sunk in the night of sin ! 
 
 True Strength, put forth thy power 
 For us in evil hour ! 
 
 Ours is a world of wiles, 
 
 Of beauteous vanities ; 
 
 Come, and in us destroy 
 Its fair impurities, 
 
 Lest, by its tempting arts, 
 
 From Thee it steal our hearts. 
 
 Unveil Thy glorious self 
 To us, O Holy One ! 
 
 That Thou into our hearts 
 Mayst shine, Thyself alone ! 
 
 Saved from earth’s vanities, 
 
 To Thee we long to rise ! 
 
 Renew us, Ploly One ! 
 
 Oh purge us in Thy fire ! 
 
 Refine us, heavenly Flame! 
 
 Consume each low desire ! 
 
 Prepare us as a sacrifice 
 Well pleasing in Thine eyes. 
 
 Far from Thee we have lived, 
 
 Exiles from home and Thee : 
 
 Oh bring us back in love, 
 
 End our captivity ! 
 
 Be Thou the way we wend, 
 
 Be Thou that way’s blest end ! 
 
 Tr. by Bonar , from the Gallican Breviary . 
 
 1S20. HOLY SPIRIT. Prayer to the 
 
 Come, Holy Ghost! in love 
 Shed on us from above 
 Thine own bright ray! 
 
 Divinely good Thou art ; 
 
 Thy sacred gifts impart, 
 
 To gladden each sad heart: 
 
 Oh come to-day ! 
 
 Come, tenderest Friend, and best, 
 
 Our most delightful Guest, 
 
 With soothing power : 
 
 Rest which the weary know, 
 
 Shade ’mid the noon-day glow, 
 
 Peace when deep griefs o’erflow, 
 
 Cheer us this hour ! 
 
HOLY SPIRIT 
 
 355 
 
 HOME 
 
 Come, Light serene, and still 
 Our inmost bosom fill; 
 
 Dwell in each breast: 
 
 1 We know no dawn but Thine ; 
 
 Send forth Thy beams Divine, 
 
 On our dark souls to shine, 
 
 And make us blest! 
 
 Exalt our low desires ; 
 
 Extinguish passion’s fires; 
 
 Heal every wound : 
 
 Our stubborn spirits bend; 
 
 Our icy coldness end; 
 
 Our devious steps attend, 
 
 While heavenward bound. 
 
 Come, all the faithful bless ; 
 
 Let all who Christ confess. 
 
 His praise employ: 
 
 Give virtue’s rich reward ; 
 
 Victorious death accord, 
 
 And, with our glorious Lord, 
 
 Eternal joy !—Ray Palmer. 
 
 1821. HOLY SPIRIT. Prayer to the 
 
 Come, Holy Spirit, from above, 
 
 * And from the realms of light and love 
 
 Thine own bright rays impart. 
 
 Come, Father of the fatherless, 
 
 Come, Giver of all happiness. 
 
 Come, Lamp of every heart. 
 
 O Thou, of comforters the best, 
 
 O Thou, the soul’s most welcome guest, 
 
 O Thou, our sweet repose, 
 
 Our resting-place from life’s long care, 
 
 Our shadow from the world’s fierce glare, 
 Our solace in all woes. 
 
 O Light Divine, all light excelling, 
 
 Fill with Thyself the inmost dwelling 
 Of souls sincere and lowly ; 
 
 Without Thy pure Divinity, 
 
 Nothing in all humanity. 
 
 Nothing is strong or holy. 
 
 Wash out each dark and sordid stain. 
 
 Water each dry and arid plain, 
 
 Raise up the bruised reed, 
 
 Enkindle what is cold and chill, 
 
 Relax the stiff and stubborn will, 
 
 Guide those that guidance need. 
 
 Give to the good who find in Thee 
 The Spirit’s perfect liberty, 
 
 Thy sevenfold power and love. 
 
 Give virtue strength its crown to win, 
 
 Give struggling souls their rest from sin, 
 
 Give endless peace above.— A. P Stanley. 
 
 1822. HOME. Affections of the 
 
 Home’s not merely four square walls, 
 
 Though with pictures hung and gilded ; 
 Home is where affection calls. 
 
 Fill’d with shrines the heart hath builded! 
 Home ! go watch the faithful dove, 
 
 Sailing ’neath the heaven above us ; 
 
 Home is where there’s one to love ! 
 
 Home is where there’s one to love us! 
 
 Home’s not merely roof and room, 
 
 It needs something to endear it; 
 
 Home is where the heart can bloom, 
 
 Where there’s some kind lip to cheer it! 
 What is home with none to meet, 
 
 None to welcome, none to greet us? 
 
 Home is sweet—and only sweet— 
 
 When there’s one we love to meet us ! 
 
 Charles Swain. 
 
 1823. HOME. Ceremonies of 
 
 Keep your undrest, familiar style 
 
 For strangers, but respect your friend, 
 
 Her most, whose matrimonial smile 
 Is and asks honour without end. 
 
 ’Tis found and needs it must so be, 
 
 That life from love’s allegiance flags, 
 
 When love forgets its majesty 
 In sloth’s unceremonious rags. 
 
 Let love make home a gracious court; 
 
 There let the world’s rude, hasty waj'S 
 Be fashion’d to a loftier port, 
 
 And learn to bow and stand and gaze ; 
 
 And let the sweet respective sphere 
 Of personal worship there obtain 
 Circumference for moving clear, 
 
 None treading on another’s train. 
 
 This makes pleasures that do not cloy, 
 
 And dignifies our mortal strife 
 With calmness and considerate joy, 
 
 Befitting our immortal life. 
 
 1824. HOME: changed. 
 
 We leave 
 
 Our home in youth—no matter to what end— 
 
 Study—or strife—or pleasure, or what not ; 
 
 And coming back in few short years, we find 
 All as we left it outside : the old elms, 
 
 The house, grass, gates, and latchet’s self-same 
 click : 
 
 But lift that latchet,—all is changed as doom. 
 
 Bailey. 
 
 1825. HOME. Contented with 
 
 Dear Chloe, while the busy crowd, 
 
 The vain, the wealthy, and the proud, 
 
 In folly’s maze advance ; 
 
Though singularity and pride 
 Be call’d our choice, we’ll step aside, 
 
 Nor join the giddy dance. 
 
 i 
 
 From the gay world we’ll oft retire 
 To our own family and fire, 
 
 Where love our hours employs ; 
 
 No noisy neighbour enters here, 
 
 No intermeddling stranger near, 
 
 To spoil our heartfelt joys. 
 
 If solid happiness we prize, 
 
 Within our breast this jewel lies, 
 
 And they are fools who roam ; 
 
 The world hath nothing to bestow— 
 
 From our own selves our bliss must flow, 
 
 And that dear hut, our home. 
 
 Our portion is not large, indeed ; 
 
 But then how little do we need, 
 
 For nature’s calls are few ; 
 
 In this the art of living lies, 
 
 To want no more than may suffice, 
 
 And make that little do. 
 
 We’ll therefore relish with content 
 Whate’er kind Providence has sent, 
 
 Nor aim beyond our power ; 
 
 For, if our stock be very small, 
 
 ’Tis prudence to enjoy it all, 
 
 Nor lose the present hour. 
 
 To be resign’d when ills betide, 
 
 Patient when favours are denied, 
 
 And pleased with favours given : 
 
 Dear Chloe, this is wisdom’s part, 
 
 This is that incense of the heart, 
 
 Whose fragrance smells to heaven. 
 
 Cotton. 
 
 1826. HOME. Dying at 
 
 In all my wanderings round this world of care, 
 
 In all my griefs—and God has given my share 
 I still had hopes my latest hours to crown, 
 
 Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down ; 
 
 To husband out life’s taper at the close, 
 
 And keep the flame from wasting, by repose : 
 
 I still had hopes, for pride attends us still, 
 
 Amidst the swains to show my book-learn’d skill, 
 Around my fire an evening group to draw, 
 
 And tell of all I felt, and all I saw. 
 
 And as a hare, whom hounds and horns pursue, 
 Pants to the place from whence at first she flew, 
 
 I still had hopes, my long vexations past, 
 
 Here to return—and die at home at last. Goldsmith. 
 
 Death is, no doubt, in every place the same ; 
 
 Yet nature casts a look towards home, and most, 
 
 Who have it in their power, choose to expire 
 Where first they drew their breath.— Lillo. 
 
 1827. HOME : essential to happiness. 
 
 And say, without our hopes, without our fears, 
 Without the home that plighted love endears, 
 Without the smile from partial beauty won, 
 
 Oh, what were man?—a world without a sun. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 1828. HOME. Ideal of 
 
 Home is the resort 
 Of love, of joy, of peace and plenty, where, 
 Supporting and supported, polish’d friends 
 And dear relations mingle into bliss.— Thomson. 
 
 Home is the sphere of harmony and peace, 
 
 The spot where angels find a resting-place, 
 
 When, bearing blessings, they descend to earth. 
 
 Mrs Hale. 
 
 1829. HOME. Joys of 
 
 Sweet are the joys of Home, 
 
 And pure as sweet; for they, 
 
 Like dews of morn and evening, come 
 To wake and close the day. 
 
 The world hath its delights, 
 
 And its delusions, too ; 
 
 But Home to calmer bliss invites, 
 
 More tranquil and more true. 
 
 The mountain flood is strong, 
 
 But fearful in its pride ; 
 
 While gently rolls the stream along 
 The peaceful valley’s side. 
 
 Life’s charities, like light, 
 
 Spread smilingly afar; 
 
 But stars approach’d, become more bright, 
 And Home is life’s own star. 
 
 The pilgrim’s step in vain 
 Seeks Eden’s sacred ground ! 
 
 But in Home’s holy joys, again 
 An Eden may be found. 
 
 A glance of heaven to see, 
 
 To none on earth is given; 
 
 And yet a happy family 
 
 Is but an earlier heaven.— Bowring. 
 
 1830. HOME. Love of 
 
 Man’s greatest strength is shown in standing still; 
 
 The first sure symptom of a mind in health 
 
 Is rest of heart and pleasure felt at home.— Young. 
 
HOME 
 
 357 
 
 HOME 
 
 Some spot there is, some cherish’d spot, 
 
 We love, all other spots above ; 
 
 And few so wretched that have not 
 Some early-cherish’d spot to love. 
 
 The mountain heights are dear to some, 
 
 To some the valley’s deep recess ; 
 
 To some the desert is a home, 
 
 With thoughts to cheer and joys to bless 
 
 To some the tempest-troubled sea 
 Is music ; while the snows and ice 
 That gird earth’s arctic scenery, 
 
 To some bring dreams of paradise. 
 
 The fervour of the tropic beams— 
 
 The darkness of deep woods—the fall 
 Of dangerous cataract—shaken streams— 
 
 All scatter joys around them—all. 
 
 Yes ! all, some spot, some cherish’d spot, 
 
 Love, every other spot above ; 
 
 And none so destitute as not 
 
 To have some spot on earth to love. 
 
 Bowring. 
 
 1831. HOME. Man’s and Woman’s 
 
 Man’s home is everywhere. On ocean’s flood, 
 Where the strong ship with storm-defying tether 
 Doth link in stormy brotherhood, 
 
 Earth’s utmost zones together, 
 
 Where’er the red gold glows, the spice-trees wave 
 Where the rich diamond ripens, mid the flame 
 Of vertic suns that ope the stranger’s grave, 
 
 He with bronzed cheek and daring step doth 
 rove; 
 
 He with short pang and slight 
 Doth turn him from the checker’d light 
 Of the fair moon through his own forests dancing, 
 Where music, joy, and love, 
 
 Were his young hours entrancing ; 
 
 And where ambition’s thunder-claim 
 Points out his lot, 
 
 Or fitful wealth allures to roam, 
 
 There doth he make his home, 
 
 Repining not. 
 
 It is not thus with Woman. The far halls, 
 
 Though ruinous and lone, 
 
 Where first her pleased ear drank a nursing-mother’s 
 tone; 
 
 The home with humble walls, . 
 
 Where breathed a parent’s prayer around her bed ; 
 
 The valley where, with playmates true, 
 
 She cull’d the strawberry, bright with dew ; 
 
 The bower where Love her timid footsteps led : 
 The hearthstone where her children grew ; 
 
 The damp soil where she cast 
 
 The flower-seeds of her hope, and saw them bide the 
 blast— 
 
 Affection with unfading tint recalls, 
 
 Lingering round the ivied walls, 
 
 Where every rose hath in its cup a bee, 
 
 Making fresh honey of remember’d things, 
 
 Each rose without a thorn, each bee bereft of stings. 
 
 Mrs Sigourney. 
 
 1832. HOME. Memory of 
 
 Though long the wanderer may depart, 
 
 And far his footsteps roam, 
 
 He clasps the closer to his heart 
 The image of his home. 
 
 To that loved land, where’er he goes, 
 
 His tenderest thoughts are cast, 
 
 And dearer still, through absence, grows 
 The memory of the past.— Burns. 
 
 1833. HOME : no home without love. 
 
 He enter’d in his house,—his home no more, 
 
 For without hearts there is no home,—and felt 
 The solitude of passing his own door 
 Without a welcome. — Byron. 
 
 1834. HOME. Piety in the 
 
 Lo ! where yon cottage whitens through the green, 
 The loveliest feature of a matchless scene ; 
 
 Beneath its shading elm, with pious fear, 
 
 An aged mother draws her children near; 
 
 While from the Holy Word, with earnest air, 
 
 She teaches them the privilege of prayer. 
 
 Look ! How their infant eyes with rapture speak ; 
 Mark the flush lily on the dimpled cheek ; 
 
 Their hearts are fill’d with gratitude and love, 
 
 Their hopes are centred in a world above. 
 
 Where, in a choir of angels, Faith portrays 
 The loved, departed father of their days.— Dawes. 
 
 1835. HOME : should be peaceful. 
 
 Clamours our privacies uneasy make ; 
 
 Birds leave their nests disturb’d, and beasts their 
 haunts forsake.— Rowe. 
 
 1836. HOME. Sorrows of 
 
 There is no spot, or high or low, 
 
 Which darkness visits not at times ; 
 
 No shelter from the reach of woe, 
 
 In farthest lands of fairest climes. 
 
 The tempests shake the stoutest tree, 
 
 And every flow’ret droops in turn : 
 
 To mourn is nature’s destiny, 
 
 And all that live must live to mourn. 
 
HOME 
 
 353 
 
 HONESTY 
 
 No home so happy, but that pain, 
 
 And grief, and care, the doors will press, 
 When love’s most anxious thoughts are vain, 
 More anxious from their helplessness. 
 
 And yet, if aught can soften grief, 
 
 ’Tis home’s sweet influence ; if there be 
 Relief from sorrow, that relief 
 Springs from domestic sympathy. 
 
 The home that virtue hallows, flings 
 Another bliss o’er blessedness ; 
 
 And e’en to sorrow’s children brings 
 
 Or peace to calm, or hope to bless.— Bowring. 
 
 1837. HOME. Sweet 
 
 ’Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam, 
 Still, be it ever so humble, there’s no place like 
 home. 
 
 A charm from the skies seems to hallow it there, 
 Which, go through the world, you’ll not meet with 
 elsewhere. 
 
 Home, home, sweet home ! 
 
 There’s no place like home. 
 
 An exile from home, pleasure dazzles in vain : 
 
 Ah ! give me my lowly thatch’d cottage again. 
 
 The birds singing sweetly that come to my call; 
 
 Oh, give me sweet peace of mind, dearer than all ! 
 Home, sweet, sweet home ! 
 
 There’s no place like home.— Payne. 
 
 1838. HOME. Trifles of 
 
 The angry word suppress’d, the taunting thought ; 
 Subduing and subdued, the petty strife 
 Which clouds the colour of domestic life ; 
 
 The sober comfort, all the peace which springs 
 From the large aggregate of little things— 
 
 On these small cares of daughter, wife, or friend, 
 The almost sacred joys of home depend. 
 
 Hannah More. 
 
 1839. HOME. Wealth not essential to a happy 
 
 Nor need we power or splendour — 
 
 Wide hall or lordly dome ; 
 
 The good, the true, the tender— 
 
 These form the wealth of home.— 
 
 Mrs Hale. 
 
 1S40. HOMES. English 
 
 The stately Homes of England, 
 
 How beautiful they stand ! 
 
 Amidst their tall ancestral trees, 
 
 O’er all the pleasant land ; 
 
 The deer across their greensward bound, 
 Through shades and sunny gleam, 
 
 And the swan glides past them with the sound 
 Of some rejoicing stream. 
 
 The merry Homes of England ! 
 
 Around their hearths by night, 
 
 What gladsome looks of household love 
 Meet in the ruddy light. 
 
 There woman’s voice flows forth in song, 
 
 Or childish tale is told ; 
 
 Or lips move tunefully along 
 Some glorious page of old. 
 
 The blessed Homes of England ! 
 
 How softly on their bowers 
 Is laid the holy quietness 
 
 That breathes from Sabbath hours ! 
 
 Solemn, yet sweet, the church-bell’s chime 
 Floats through their woods at morn ; 
 
 All other sounds, in that still time, 
 
 Of breeze and leaf are born. 
 
 The cottage Homes of England 1 
 By thousands on her plains 
 They’re smiling o’er her silvery brooks, 
 
 And round the hamlet-fanes. 
 
 Through glowing orchards forth they peep, 
 
 Each from its nook of leaves ; 
 
 And fearless there the lowly sleep, 
 
 As the bird beneath their eaves. 
 
 The free, fair Homes of England ! 
 
 Long, long, in hut and hall, 
 
 May hearts of native proof be rear’d 
 To guard each hallow’d wall! 
 
 And green for ever be the groves, 
 
 And bright the flowery sod, 
 
 Where first the child’s glad spirit loves 
 Its country and its God .—Mrs Hemans. 
 
 1841. HONEST MAN. The 
 
 Who is the honest man ? 
 
 He that doth still and strongly good pursue, 
 
 To God, his neighbour, and himself most true : 
 Whom neither force nor fawning can 
 
 Unpin, or wrench from giving all their due. 
 
 Herbert. 
 
 1842. HONESTY. Frankness of 
 
 Ills nature is too noble for the world ; 
 
 He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, 
 
 Or Jove for his power to thunder. His heart’s his 
 mouth; 
 
 What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
HONESTY 
 
 359 
 
 HONESTY 
 
 1843. HONESTY : is prompt in its decisions. 
 
 The man who pauses on his honesty 
 Wants little of the villain.— Martyn. 
 
 1844. HONESTY. Majesty of 
 
 An honest soul is like a ship at sea, 
 
 That sleeps at anchor when the ocean’s calm ; 
 
 But when she rages, and the wind blows high, 
 
 He cuts his way with skill and majesty. 
 
 Beaumont and Fletcher. 
 
 1845. HONESTY : must never be surrendered. 
 
 Lands mortgaged may return, and more esteem’d ; 
 But honesty once pawn’d, is ne’er redeem’d. 
 
 Middleton. 
 
 1846. HONESTY : needs no concealment. 
 
 Each thought was visible that roll’d within, 
 
 As through a crystal case the figured hours are seen ; 
 And Heaven did this transparent veil provide 
 Because she had no guilty thought to hide.— Dryden. 
 
 1847. HONESTY. Nobility of 
 
 An honest man’s the noblest work of God.— Pope. 
 
 Trust payeth homage unto truth, rewarding honesty 
 of action; 
 
 And all men love to lean on him, who never failed 
 nor fainted. 
 
 Freedom gloweth in his eyes, and nobleness of 
 nature at his heart, 
 
 And Independence took a crown and fixed it on his 
 head; 
 
 So he stood in his integrity, just and firm of purpose, 
 Aiding many, fearing none, a spectacle to angels, 
 and to men; 
 
 Yea, when the shattered globe shall rock in the 
 throes of dissolution, 
 
 Still will he stand in his integrity, sublime—an 
 honest man. — Tipper. 
 
 1848. HONESTY. Nobility of 
 
 I ASK not for his lineage, 
 
 I ask not for his name— 
 
 If manliness be in his heart, 
 
 He noble birth may claim. 
 
 I care not though of this world’s wealth 
 But slender be his part; 
 
 If yes you answer when I ask— 
 
 Hath he a true man’s heart ? 
 
 I ask not from what land he came, 
 
 Nor where his youth was nursed— 
 
 If pure the stream, it matters not 
 The spot from whence it burst: 
 
 The palace or the hovel, 
 
 Where first his life began, 
 
 I seek not of; but answer this— 
 
 Is he an honest man ? 
 
 Nay, blush not now—what matters it 
 Where first he drew his breath ; 
 
 A manger was the cradle-bed 
 Of Him of Nazareth ! 
 
 Be nought, be any, everything— 
 
 I care not what you be— 
 
 If yes you answer, when I ask—• 
 
 Art thou pure, true, and free ?— Nicoll. 
 
 1849. HONESTY. Rewards of 
 
 All is vanity which is not honesty—thus is it graven 
 on the tomb ; 
 
 I speak of honest purpose, character, speech, and 
 action. 
 
 Honesty, even by itself, though making many adver¬ 
 saries 
 
 Whom prudence might have set aside, or charity 
 have soften’d, 
 
 Evermore will prosper at the last, and gain a man 
 great honour.— Tapper. 
 
 1850. HONESTY. Selling 
 
 YET there be others, that will truckle to a lie, selling 
 honesty for interest; 
 
 And do they gain ? They gain but loss ; a little cash, 
 with scorn. 
 
 Behold the sorrowful change wrought upon a fallen 
 nature : 
 
 He hath lost his own esteem and other men’s respect ; 
 
 For the buoyancy of upright faith, he is clothed in 
 the heaviness of cringing. 
 
 For plain truth, where none could err, he hath 
 chosen tortuous paths ; 
 
 In lieu of his majesty of countenance, the timorous 
 glances of servility ; 
 
 Instead of Freedom’s honest pride, the spirit of a 
 slave. — Tapper. 
 
 1851. HONESTY. Stability of 
 
 An honest man is still an unmoved rock, 
 
 Wash’d whiter, but not shaken with the shock ; 
 i Whose heart conceives no sinister device, 
 
 Fearless he plays with flames, and treads on ice. 
 
 Davenport. 
 
HONOUR 
 
 360 
 
 HONOUR 
 
 1852. HONOUR [Fashionable code of right]. 
 
 This deity, whose altars reek with blood, 
 
 Though millions bend the prostituted knee 
 Before the radiant shrine, though millions own, 
 
 His power vindictive just, and call him Honour, 
 
 All cannot sanctify what public good, 
 
 What nature’s moral dictates, disavow, 
 
 And Heaven s almighty mandate impious deems. 
 
 Hayes. 
 
 Honour —in blood congeal’d to take a life, 
 
 Which had been murder in the heat of strife ! 
 Honour— when its result we dare not tell! 
 
 Honour —to plunge a fellow’s soul to hell ! 
 
 Honour to stand to be a murderer’s mark, 
 
 And hurl defiance e’en with life’s last spark ; 
 
 To dare that law which has for ages stood— 
 
 ‘ He di es by man who sheds a brother’s blood ! ’ 
 
 Oh, in that moment when we all shall stand 
 Waiting the judgment of the Almighty hand, 
 
 Will then thy honour palliate the crime, 
 
 And Heaven’s high Monarch hear the plea of time ? 
 Stript of those robes which make it honour here, 
 Before that throne the murder will appear. 
 
 Disrobed of ornament the sin is there ; 
 
 The crime is Cain s ; why not his judgment share— 
 An outcast on the earth, and in the Heaven, 
 
 O God! can crimes like these be e’er forgiven ? 
 
 Anon. 
 
 I ^ 53 - HONOUR [Moral rectitude]. 
 
 Say what is honour?—’Tis the finest sense 
 Oijustice which the human mind can frame, 
 Intent each lurking frailty to disclaim, 
 
 And guard the way of life from all offence 
 Suffer’d or done. — Wordsworth. 
 
 Honour’s a sacred tie,—the law of kings, 
 
 The noble mind’s distinguishing perfection, 
 
 That aids and strengthens virtue when it meets her, 
 And imitates her actions when she is not: 
 
 It ought not to be sported with.— Addison. 
 
 Give me a staff of honour for mine age ; 
 
 But not a sceptre to control the world. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 If I lose mine honour, 
 
 I lose myself; better I were not yours, 
 
 Than yours so branchless.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Rightly to be great, 
 
 Is, not to stir without great argument; 
 
 But greatly to find quarrel in a straw, 
 
 When honour’s at the stake.— Shakespeare. 
 
 From lowest place when virtuous things proceed, 
 The place is dignified by the doer’s deed : 
 
 W hen gieat additions swell, and virtue none, 
 
 It is a dropsied honour : good alone 
 Is good.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Better to die ten thousand deaths 
 Than wound my honour.— Addison. 
 
 Honour, my lord, is much too proud to catch 
 At every tender twig of nice distinctions. 
 These for th unfeeling vulgar may do well : 
 But those whose souls are by the nicer rule 
 Of virtuous delicacy nobly sway’d, 
 
 Stand at another bar than that of laws. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 A life of honour and of worth 
 Has no eternity on earth,— 
 
 ’Tis but a name : 
 
 And yet its glory far exceeds 
 I hat base and sensual life which leads 
 To want and shame.— Longfellow. 
 
 854. HONOUR [Reputation, Glory]. 
 
 Mine honour is my life ; both grow in one ; 
 Take honour from me, and my life is done. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Perseverance, dear my lord, 
 Keeps honour bright. 1 o have done is to hang 
 Quite out of fashion, like a rusty nail 
 In monumental mockery.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Thou idol, Honour, which we fools adore ! 
 
 How many plagues do rest in thee to grieve us ! 
 Which when we have, we find there is much more 
 Phan that, which only is a name, can give us : 
 
 Of real comforts thou dost leave us poor, 
 
 And of those joys thou often dost deprive us \ 
 
 Thou with ourselves doth set us at debate, 
 
 And make us beggars in our greatest state. 
 
 Drayton. 
 
 ^ ou still insist upon that idol, Honour ; 
 
 Can it renew your youth ? can it add wealth ? 
 That, take off wrinkles ? can it draw men’s eyes 
 To gaze upon you in your age ? can Honour, 
 
 That truly is a saint to none but soldiers, 
 
 And look’d into, bears no reward but danger, 
 Leave you the most respected person living? 
 
 Beaumont and Fletcher. 
 
 Honour is like that glassy bubble 
 That finds philosophers such trouble ; 
 
 Whose least part crack’d, the whole does fly, 
 
 And wits are crack’d to find out why.— Butler. 
 
HONOURS 
 
 361 
 
 HOPE 
 
 What is honour? a silly vain opinion, 
 
 That hangs but on the rabble’s idle breath ; 
 
 For them we court it, yet by them ’tis scorn’d. 
 
 Martyn. 
 
 So much the thirst of honour fires the blood ; 
 
 So many would be great, so few be good ; 
 
 For who would Virtue for herself regard, 
 
 Or wed without the portion of reward ?— Dryden. 
 
 The honour is overpaid 
 When he that did the act is commentator. 
 
 Shirley. 
 
 When vice prevails, and impious men bear sway, 
 The post of honour is a private station.— Addison. 
 
 Honour’s a fine imaginary notion, 
 
 That draws in raw and inexperienced men 
 To real mischief, while they hunt a shadow. 
 
 Addison. 
 
 Honour and shame from no condition rise : 
 
 Act well your part : there all the honour lies. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 There was a people once by wisest counsels steer’d, 
 Who temples twain to Virtue and to Honour rear’d. 
 Excepting through the first—they stood so, wall to 
 wall— 
 
 No man within the second one could get at all. 
 
 As forecourt unto Honour’s temple Virtue’s stood, 
 ‘Through merit praise is reach’d,’—such was the 
 moral good. 
 
 An age did those two temples thus together stand, 
 And all was noble-toned and prosperous in the land. 
 But long ago did Virtue’s solemn temple fall; 
 
 And Honour’s shrine, profaned, is open now to all. 
 
 Oriental. 
 
 1855. HONOURS. Earthly 
 
 Give me honours, what are these 
 But the pleasing hindrances, 
 
 Stiles, and stops, and stays that come 
 In the way ’twixt me and home ? 
 
 Clear the walk and then shall I 
 
 To my heaven less run than fly.— Herrick. 
 
 How loved, how honour’d once, avails thee not, 
 To whom related, or by whom begot ; 
 
 A heap of dust alone remains of thee: 
 
 ’Tis all thou art, and all the proud shall be ! 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Earth’s highest station ends in ‘ Here he lies,’ 
 And ‘Dust to dust’ concludes her noblest song. 
 
 Young. 
 
 1856. HOPE. Basis of 
 
 On Truth’s substantial rock Hope takes her seat, 
 While waves tumultuous dash against her feet • 
 
 The sky with blackness now becomes o’erspread ; 
 The tempest threatens her devoted head ; 
 
 Louder and louder still the thunders sound ; 
 
 The lightning flings its fearful glare around ; 
 
 Creation trembles ; but fast anchor’d there, 
 
 Hope sits unshaken, never in despair ; 
 
 With eyes turn’d upward, whence her help descends, 
 She waits expecting till the tempest ends. 
 
 Holmes. 
 
 1857. HOPE. Beguiling 
 
 The winds that play’d, now brisk, now slack, 
 Against the stream were driving back 
 The running waves, and made them seem 
 To show an upward-flowing stream: 
 
 As man, while hope beguiles him, thinks 
 His life is rising while it sinks.— Barnes. 
 
 1858. PIOPE. Brightest 
 
 The rose is fairest when ’tis budding new, 
 
 And hope is brightest when it dawns from fears. 
 
 Scott. 
 
 1859. HOPE. Characteristics of 
 
 Dear Hope ! earth’s dowry and heaven’s debt, 
 The entity of things that are not yet: 
 
 Subtlest, but surest being.— Crashaw. 
 
 Fair Hope ! our earlier heaven ! by thee 
 Young time is taster to eternity. — Crashaw. 
 
 Sweet Hope ! kind cheat ! fair fallacy ! by thee 
 We are not where or what we be ; 
 
 But what and where we would be: thus art thou 
 Our absent present, and our future now. 
 
 Crashaw. 
 
 What is hope ? The beauteous sun, 
 
 Which colours all it shines upon ! 
 
 The beacon of life’s dreary sea ; 
 
 The star of immortality ! 
 
 Fountain of feeling, young and warm, 
 
 A day-beam bursting through the storm ! 
 
 A tone of melody, whose birth 
 
 Is, oh ! too sweet, too pure, for earth ! 
 
 A blossom of that radiant tree 
 Whose fruit the angels only see ! 
 
 A beauty and a charm, whose power 
 Is seen, enjoy’d, confess’d, each hour ! 
 
 A portion of that world to come, 
 
 When earth and ocean mee£—the last o’er- 
 whelming doom.— Swain. 
 
 1860. PIOPE. Christian 
 
 fESUS lives, and so shall I ; 
 
 Death, thy sting is gone for ever ! 
 
HOPE 
 
 362 
 
 HOPE 
 
 He who deign’d for me to die, 
 
 Lives, the bands of death to sever: 
 
 He shall raise me with the just; 
 
 Jesus is my Hope and Trust. 
 
 Jesus lives and reigns supreme ; 
 
 And, His kingdom still remaining, 
 
 I shall also be with Him, 
 
 Ever living, ever reigning ; 
 
 God has promised ; be it must; 
 
 Jesus is my Hope and Trust. 
 
 Jesus lives, and by His grace 
 Victory o’er my passions giving, 
 
 I will cleanse my heart and ways, 
 
 Ever to His glory living: 
 
 Me He raises from the dust; 
 
 Jesus is my Hope and Trust. 
 
 Jesus lives ! I know full well, 
 
 Nought from Him my heart can sever ; 
 Life, nor death, nor powers of hell, 
 
 Joy, nor grief, henceforth for ever: 
 
 None of all His saints is lost; 
 
 Jesus is my Hope and Trust. 
 
 Jesus lives, and death is now 
 But my entrance into glory ; 
 
 Courage, then, my soul, for thou 
 Hast a crown of life before thee ; 
 
 1 hou shalt find thy hopes were just; 
 Jesus is thy Hope and Trust.— Gellert. 
 
 1861. HOPE. Empire of 
 
 Hope rules a land for ever green ; 
 
 All powers that serve the bright-eyed queen 
 Are confident and gay ; 
 
 Clouds at her bidding disappear ; 
 
 I oints she to aught ?—the bliss draws near, 
 Aiiw fiuicy smooths the way. — Wordsworth. 
 
 1862. HOPE. Encourage 
 
 Take heart, nor of the laws of fate complain ; 
 d hough now ’tis cloudy, ’twill clear up again. 
 
 Norris. 
 
 Say thou not sadly, ‘never,’ and ‘no more,’ 
 
 But from thy lips banish those falsest words ; 
 While life remains, that which was thine before 
 Again may be thine ; in Time’s storehouse lie 
 
 Days, hours, and moments, that have unknown 
 hoards 
 
 Of joy, as well as sorrow ; passing by, 
 
 Smiles come with tears; therefore with hopeful eye 
 Look thou on dear things, though they turn away, 
 For thou and they, perchance, some future day 
 
 Shall meet again, and the gone bliss return; 
 
 For its departure then make thou no mourn, 
 
 But with stout heart bid what thou lov’st farewell ; 
 That which the past hath given, the future gives as 
 well .—Frances Anne Kemble. 
 
 1863. HOPE. Eternal 
 
 Eternal Hope ! when yonder spheres sublime 
 Peal’d their first notes to sound the march of Time, 
 Thy joyous youth began—but not to fade. 
 
 When all the sister planets have decay’d ; 
 
 When, wrapp’d in fire, the realms of ether glow, 
 And Heaven’s last thunder shakes the world below ; 
 Thou, undismay’d, shalt o’er the ruins smile, 
 
 And light Thy torch at Nature’s funeral pile. 
 
 Campbell. 
 
 1864. HOPE. Faith and 
 
 Fountain of song, its prayer begins and ends, 
 
 Hope is the wing by which the soul ascends. 
 
 Some may allege I wander from the path, 
 
 And give to hope the proper rights of faith ; 
 
 Like love and friendship, these, a comely pair, 
 What’s done by one, the other has a share: 
 
 When heat is felt, we judge that fire is near ; 
 
 Hope s twilight comes faith’s day will soon appear. 
 Thus when the Christian’s contest doth begin, 
 
 Hope fights with doubts, till faith’s reserves come in : 
 Hope comes desiring and expects relief; 
 
 Faith follows, and peace springs from firm belief. 
 
 I Hope balances occurrences of time ; 
 
 Faith will not stop till it has reach’d the prime. 
 
 | Just like co-partners in joint-stock of trade, 
 j What one contracts is by the other paid, 
 j Make use of hope thy labouring soul to cheer, 
 j Faith shall be given if thou wilt persevere. 
 
 1 We see all things alike with either eye, 
 
 So faith and hope the self-same object spy. 
 
 But what is hope ? or where or how begun ? 
 
 It comes from God, as light comes from the sun. 
 
 Hogg. 
 
 1865. HOPE. Field of 
 
 ( 
 
 Hope humbly, then, with trembling pinions soar, 
 Wait the great teacher, death ; and God adore. 
 What’s future bliss, He gives not thee to know, 
 But gives that hope to be thy blessing now. 
 
 Hope springs eternal in the human breast ; 
 
 Man never is, but always to be blest: 
 
 The soul, uneasy and confined from home, 
 
 Rests and expatiates in a life to come.— Pope. 
 
 1866. HOPE. Fruition of 
 
 Oh send me down a draught of love, 
 
 Or take me hence to drink above ! 
 
 I 
 
HOPE 
 
 363 
 
 HOPE 
 
 Here, Marah’s water fills my cup ; 
 
 But there, all griefs are swallow’d up. 
 
 Love here is scarce a faint desire ; 
 
 But there, the spark’s a flaming fire : 
 
 Joys here are drops, that passing flee ; 
 
 But there, an overflowing sea. 
 
 My faith, that sees so darkly here, 
 
 Will there resign to vision clear : 
 
 My hope, that’s here a weary groan, 
 
 Will to fruition yield the throne. 
 
 Here fetters hamper freedom’s wing ; 
 
 But there, the Captive is a king ; 
 
 And grace is like a buried seed, 
 
 But sinners there are saints indeed. 
 
 My portion here’s a crumb at best ; 
 
 But there, the Lamb’s eternal feast : 
 
 My praise is now a smother’d fire ; 
 
 But then, I’ll sing and never tire. 
 
 Now dusky shadows cloud my day ; 
 
 But then, the shades will flee away ; 
 
 My Lord will break the dimming glass, 
 
 And show His glory face to face. 
 
 My numerous foes now beat me down ; 
 
 But then I’ll wear the victor’s crown ; 
 
 Yet all the revenues I’ll bring 
 To Zion’s everlasting King ! — Erskine. 
 
 1867. HOPE. Grace of 
 
 Hope sets the stamp of vanity on all 
 That men have deem’d substantial since the fall, 
 Yet has the wondrous virtue to educe 
 From emptiness itself a real use ; 
 
 And while she takes, as at a father’s hand, 
 
 What health and sober appetite demand, 
 
 From fading good derives, with chemic art, 
 
 The lasting happiness, a thankful heart. 
 
 Hope, with uplifted foot, set free from earth, 
 Pants for the place of her ethereal birth, 
 
 On steady wings sails through the immense abysw, 
 Plucks amaranthine joys from bowers of bliss, 
 And crowns the soul, while yet a mourner here, 
 With wreaths like those triumphant spirits wear. 
 Hope, as an anchor firm and sure, holds fast 
 The Christian vessel, and defies the blast. 
 
 Hope ! nothing else can nourish and secure 
 His new-born virtues, and preserve him pure. 
 Hope ! let the wretch, once conscious of the joy, 
 Whom now despairing agonies destroy, 
 
 Speak—for he can, and none so well as he— 
 What treasures centre, what delights, in thee. 
 Had he the gems, the spices, and the land 
 That boasts the treasure, all at his command ; 
 
 The fragrant grove, the inestimable mine, 
 
 Were light, when view’d against one smile of thine. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 1868. HOPE. Heavenly 
 
 All hope on earth for ever fled, 
 
 A higher hope remaineth ; 
 
 For while His waves roll o’er my head, 
 
 I know my Saviour reigneth. 
 
 The worm may waste the withering clay, 
 
 When flesh and spirit sever ; 
 
 My soul shall see eternal day. 
 
 And dwell with God for ever.— Dak. 
 
 1869. HOPE. Illusiveness of 
 
 Thus through what path soe’er of life we rove, 
 Rage companies our hate, and grief our love. 
 Vex’d with the present moment’s heavy gloom, 
 Why seek we brightness from the years to come ? 
 Disturb’d and broken like a sick man’s sleep, 
 
 Our troubled thoughts to distant prospects leap, 
 Desirous still what flies us to o’ertake, 
 
 For hope is but the dream of those that wake. 
 
 Prior. 
 
 Brother of fear, more gaily clad ! 
 
 The merrier fool o’ the two, yet quite as mad: 
 Sire of repentance ! child of fond desire ! 
 
 That blow’st the chymics’ and the lovers’ fire; 
 
 Leading them still insensibly on 
 
 By the strange witchcraft of ‘ anon ! ’— Cowley. 
 
 Hope ! fortune’s cheating lottery, 
 Where for one prize an hundred blanks there be 
 Fond archer, Hope ! who tak st thy aim so fai, 
 That still or short or wide thine arrows are! 
 
 Cowley. 
 
 Flope’s at best 
 
 A star that leads the weary on, 
 
 Still pointing to the unpossess’d, 
 
 And palling that it beams upon. 
 
 1870. HOPE : indestructible. 
 
 Hope’s precious pearl in sorrow’s cup 
 Unmelted at the bottom lay, 
 
 To shine again when, all drunk up, 
 
 The bitterness should pass away.— Moore. 
 
 1871. HOPE. Influence of 
 
 True hope is swift, and flies with swallow’s wings 
 Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Hope with a goodly prospect feeds the eye, 
 Shows from a rising ground possession nigh ; 
 
HOPE 
 
 3$4 
 
 HOPE 
 
 Shortens the distance, or o’erlooks it quite: 
 
 So easy ’tis to travel with the sight.— Dryden. 
 
 Hope leads from goal to goal, 
 
 And opens still, and opens on his soul ; 
 
 Till, lengthen’d on to faith, and unconfined, 
 
 It pours the bliss that fills up all the mind. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Auspicious Hope ! in thy sweet garden grow 
 Wreaths for each toil, a charm for every woe ; 
 
 Won by their sweets, in Nature’s languid hour, 
 
 The way-worn pilgrim seeks thy summer bower; 
 There as the wild bee murmurs on the win<r 
 What peaceful dreams thy handmaid spirits bring; 
 What viewless forms the Hfolian organs play, 
 
 And sweep the furrow’d lines of anxious thought 
 away.— Campbell. 
 
 The rainbow to the storms of life, 
 
 The evening beam that smiles the clouds away, 
 And tints to-morrow with prophetic ray.— Byron. 
 
 And, as in sparkling majesty a star 
 
 Gilds the bright summit of some gloomy cloud, 
 Bright’ning the half-veil’d face of heaven afar, 
 
 So, when dark thoughts my boding spirit shroud, 
 Sweet Hope! celestial influence round me shed, 
 Waving thy silver pinions o’er my head !— Keats. 
 
 1872. HOPE. Inspiration of 
 
 Hope, of all passions, most befriends us here ; 
 Passions of prouder name befriend us less. 
 
 Joy has her tears; and Transport has her death ; 
 Hope, like a cordial, innocent though strong, 
 Man’s heart at once inspirits and serenes ; 
 
 Nor makes him pay his wisdom for his joys.: 
 
 ’Tis all our present state can safely bear. 
 
 Health to the frame, and vigour to the mind ! 
 
 A joy attemper’d ! A chastised delight ! 
 
 Like the fair summer evening, mild and sweet, 
 
 ’Tis man’s full cup, his paradise oelow.— Young. 
 
 O Hope ! sweet flatterer ! thy delusive touch 
 Sheds on afflicted minds the balm of comfort, - 
 Relieves the load of poverty,—sustains 
 The captive, bending with the weight of bonds,— 
 And smooths the pillow of disease and pain. 
 
 Glover. 
 
 Hope, with uplifted foot, set free from earth, 
 
 Pants for the place of her ethereal birth ; 
 
 On steady wings sails through the immense abyss, 
 Plucks amaranthine joys from bowers of bliss, 
 
 And crowns the soul, while yet a mourner here, 
 
 With wreaths like those triumphant spirits wear. 
 Hope, as an anchor, firm and sure, holds fast 
 The Christian vessel, and defies the blast. — Cowper. 
 
 1873. HOPE. Losing 
 
 It is sad 
 
 To see the light of beauty wane away, 
 
 Know eyes are dimming, bosoms shrivelling, feet 
 Losing their springs, and limbs their lily roundness; 
 But it is worse to feel the heart-spring gone, 
 lo lose hope, care not for the coming thing, 
 
 And feel all things go to decay within us.— Bailey. 
 
 1874. HOPE : ministers to health. 
 
 Know then whatever cheerful and serene 
 Supports the mind, supports the body too. 
 
 Hence, the most vital movement mortals feel 
 Is hope ; the balm and life-blood of the soul; • 
 
 It pleases and it lasts. Indulgent Heaven 
 Sent down the kind delusion, through the paths 
 Of rugged life to lead us patient on ; 
 
 And make our happiest state no tedious thing. 
 
 Our greatest good, and what we can least spare. 
 
 Is hope : the last of all our evils, fear. 
 
 Armstrong. 
 
 1875. HOPE: must have an object. 
 
 Work without hope draws nectar in a sieve, 
 
 And hope without an object cannot live. 
 
 Coleridge. 
 
 1876. HOPE. Origin of 
 
 Primeval Hope, the Aonian muses say, 
 
 When Man and Nature mourn’d their first decay; 
 When every form of death and every woe 
 Shot from malignant stars the earth below ; 
 
 When Murder bared her arm, and rampant War 
 Yoked the red dragons of her iron car ; 
 
 When Peace and Mercy, banish’d from the plain, 
 Sprung on the vjewless winds to heaven aeain— 
 
 o 
 
 All, all forsook the friendless guilty mind, 
 
 But Hope, the charmer, linger’d still behind. 
 
 Thus, while Elijah’s burning wheels prepare 
 From Carmel’s height to sweep the fields of air, 
 
 The prophet’s mantle, ere his flight began, 
 
 Dropt on the world—a sacred gift to man. 
 
 Campbell. 
 
 1877. HOPE : our anchor. 
 
 My bark is on a troubled sea; 
 
 The winds and waves may adverse be; 
 
 But hope, my anchor, ’s firmly cast 
 Within the vail, for ever fast. 
 
 How oft, when tempest-toss’d at night, 
 
 I watch in vain for dawning light, 
 
 Y et think, when terrors would prevail, 
 
 My anchor is within the vail. 
 
HOPE 
 
 365 
 
 HOPE 
 
 1878. HOPE. Paternal 
 
 When doom’d to poverty’s sequester’d dell, 
 
 The wedded pair of love and virtue dwell, 
 
 Unpitied by the world, unknown to fame, 
 
 Their woes, their wishes, and their hearts the same— 
 Oh, there, prophetic Hope ! thy smile bestow, 
 
 And chase the pangs that worth should never know— 
 There, as the parent deals his scanty store 
 To friendless babes, and weeps to give no more, 
 
 Tell, that his manly race shall yet assuage 
 Their father’s wrongs, and shield his latter age. 
 
 Campbell. 
 
 1879. HOPE. Personification of 
 
 With him went Hope in rank, a handsome maid, 
 
 Of cheerful look, and lovely to behold ; 
 
 In silken samite she was light array’d, 
 
 And her fair locks were woven up in gold. 
 
 She always smiled, and in her hand did hold 
 An holy water-sprinkle, dipt in dew, 
 
 With which she sprinkled favours manifold, 
 
 On whom she list, and did great liking shew, 
 
 Great liking unto many, but true love to few. 
 
 Spenser. 
 
 1880. HOPE. Philosophy of 
 
 PIope, eager Hope, the assassin of our joy, 
 
 All present blessings treading under-foot, 
 
 Is scarce a milder tyrant than Despair. 
 
 With no past toils content, still planning new, 
 
 Hope turns us o’er to death alone for ease. 
 
 Possession why more tasteless than pursuit ? 
 
 Why is a wish far dearer than a crown ? 
 
 That wish accomplish’d, why the grave of bliss ? 
 Because in the great future buried deep, 
 
 Beyond our plans of empire and renown, 
 
 Lies all that man with ardour should pursue; 
 
 And He who made him, bent him to the right. 
 
 Young. 
 
 1881. HOPE. Power of 
 
 Hope leads the child to plant the flower, the man to 
 sow the seed, 
 
 - Nor leaves fulfilment to her hour, but prompts again 
 to deed, 
 
 And ere upon the old man’s dust the grass is seen to 
 wave, 
 
 We look through falling tears to trust hope’s sun¬ 
 shine on the grave. 
 
 Oh no! it is no flattering lure—no fancy weak or 
 fond— 
 
 When hope would bid us rest secure in better life 
 beyond. 
 
 Nor loss, nor shame, nor grief, nor sin, her promise 
 may gainsay ; 
 
 The voice Divine hath spoke within, and God did 
 ne’er betray .—Sarah F. Adams. 
 
 1882. HOPE. Praise of 
 
 Hope, of all ill that men endure, 
 
 The only chief and universal cure ! 
 
 Thou captive’s freedom, and thou sick man’s health! 
 Thou loser’s victory, and thou beggar’s wealth! 
 Thou manna, which from heaven we eat, 
 
 To every taste a several meat ! 
 
 Thou strong retreat, thou sure entail’d estate, 
 
 Which nought has power to alienate ! 
 
 Thou pleasant, honest flatterer, for none 
 Flatter unhappy man but thou alone ! 
 
 Hope, thou first-fruits of happiness ! 
 
 Thou gentle dawning of a bright success ! 
 
 Thou good preparative, without which our joy 
 Does work too strong, and whilst it cures, destioys . 
 Who out of fortune’s reach dost stand, 
 
 And art a blessing still in hand! 
 
 Whilst thee, her earnest-money, we retain, 
 
 We certain are to gain, 
 
 Whether she her bargain break, or else fulfil; 
 
 Thou only good, not worse for ending ill! 
 
 Brother of Faith, ’twixt whom and thee 
 The joys of heaven and earth divided be ! 
 
 Though Faith be heir, and have the fix’d estate, 
 
 Thy portion yet in movables is great. 
 
 Happiness itself’s all one 
 In thee, or in possession ! 
 
 Only the future’s thine, the present his ! 
 
 Thine’s the more hard and noble bliss; 
 
 Best apprehender of our joys, which hast 
 So long a reach, and yet canst hold so fast ! 
 
 Hope, thou sad lover’s only friend ! 
 
 Thou way, that may’st dispute it with the end ! 
 
 For Love, I fear, ’s a fruit that does delight 
 The taste itself less than the smell and sight. 
 Fruition more deceitful is 
 Than thou canst be, when thou dost miss ; 
 
 Men leave thee by obtaining, and straight flee 
 Some other way again to thee : 
 
 And that’s a pleasant country, without doubt, 
 
 To which all soon return that travel out.— Cowley. 
 
 1883. HOPE. Preciousness of 
 
 Cease, every joy, to glimmer on my mind, 
 
 But leave—oh ! leave the light of Hope behind! 
 What though my winged hours of bliss have been, 
 Like angel-visits, few and far between.— Campbell. 
 
 1884. HOPE. Prophecies of 
 
 Inspiring thought of rapture yet to be, 
 
 The tears of Love were hopeless, but for thee ! 
 
 If in that frame no deathless spirit dwell, 
 
 I If that faint murmur be the last farewell, 
 
HOPE 
 
 HOPE 
 
 ^66 
 
 If Fate unite the faithful but to part, 
 
 Why is their memory sacred to the heart ? 
 
 Why does the brother of my childhood seem 
 Restored a while in every pleasing dream ? 
 
 Why do I joy the lonely spot to view, 
 
 By artless friendship bless’d, when life was new ? 
 
 Campbell. 
 
 1885. HOPE : ruined. 
 
 Hope ! whose weak being ruin’d is 
 Alike if it succeed, and if it miss; 
 
 Whom good or ill does equally confound, 
 
 And both the horns of fate’s dilemma wound. 
 
 Cowley. 
 
 1886. HOPE. The Christian’s 
 
 Hope of our hearts, O Lord, appear, 
 
 Thou glorious star of day ! 
 
 Shine forth, and chase the dreary night, 
 
 With all our tears, away. 
 
 Strangers on earth, we wait for Thee; 
 
 Oh leave the Father’s throne ; 
 
 Come with a shout of victory, Lord, 
 
 And claim us as Thine own. 
 
 Oh bid the bright archangel now 
 The trump of God prepare. 
 
 To call Thy saints—the quick, the dead, 
 
 To meet Thee in the air. 
 
 Of mortal desolation. He beholds, 
 
 Unapprehensive, the gigantic stride 
 Of rampart ruin, or the unstable waves 
 Of dark vicissitude. Even in death, 
 
 In that dread hour, when, with a giant pang, 
 
 Tearing the tender fibres of the heart, 
 
 The immortal spirit struggles to be free, 
 
 Then, even then, that hope forsakes him not, 
 
 For it exists beyond the narrow verge 
 _ Of the cold sepulchre. The petty joys 
 Of fleeting life indignantly it spurn’d, 
 
 And rested on the bosom of its God. 
 
 This is man’s only reasonable hope ; 
 
 And ’tis a hope, which, cherish’d in the breast, 
 
 Shall not be disappointed. Even He, J 
 
 The Holy One—Almighty—who elanced 
 The rolling world along its airy way— 
 
 Even He will deign to smile upon the good, 
 
 And welcome him to those celestial seats, ' i 
 
 Where joy and gladness hold their changeless reign. 
 
 Henry Kirke White. 
 
 1888. HOPE : the medicine of the miserable. 
 
 The miserable have no other medicine, | 
 
 But only hope.— Shakespeare. \ 
 
 1889. HOPE: the spring of happiness. 
 
 No resting-place we seek on earth, 
 
 No loveliness we see ; 
 
 Our eye is on the royal crown, 
 
 Prepared for us and Thee. 
 
 But, dearest Lord, however bright 
 That crown of joy above, 
 
 What is it to the brighter hope 
 Of dwelling in Thy love ? 
 
 What to the joy, the deeper joy, 
 Unmingled, pure, and free, 
 
 Of union with our living Head, 
 
 Of fellowship with Thee? 
 
 This joy e’en now on earth is ours, 
 
 But only, Lord, above 
 
 Our heart without a pang shall know 
 The fulness of Thy love. 
 
 There, near Thy heart, upon the throne, 
 Thy ransom’d Bride shall see 
 
 What grace was in the bleeding Lamb, 
 Who died to make her free. 
 
 1887. HOPE. The Good Man’s 
 
 The good man’s hope is laid far, far beyond 
 The sway of tempests, or the furious sweep 
 
 When the heart is light 
 
 With hope, all pleases, nothing comes amiss. ^ 
 
 Rogers. 
 
 1890. HOPE : unconquerable. 
 
 The wretch condemn’d with life to part, 
 
 Still, still on hope relies ; 
 
 And every pang that rends the heart, 
 
 Bids expectation rise. * t 
 
 Hope, like the glimmering taper’s light, 
 
 Adorns and cheers the way ; 
 
 And still, as darker grows the night, 
 
 Emits a brighter ray.— Goldsmith . *- 
 
 Though at times my spirit fails me, 
 
 And the bitter tear-drops fall, 
 
 Though my lot is hard and lonely, 
 
 Yet I hope—I hope through all. 
 
 Mrs Norton. 
 
 1891. HOPES. Earthly 
 
 PI OPES, what are they?—Beads of morning 
 Strung on slender blades of grass, 
 
 Or a spider’s web adorning 
 
 In a strait and treacherous pass. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
HOSPITALITY 
 
 36 7 
 
 HOUSEHOLD 
 
 There are hopes 
 
 Promising well, and love-touch’d dreams for some, 
 And passions, many a wild one, and fair schemes 
 For gold and pleasure. 
 
 Oh, if there were not better hopes than these— 
 
 Were there no palm beyond a feverish fame— 
 
 If truth, and fervour, and devotedness, 
 
 Finding no worthy altar, must return 
 And die with their own fulness—if beyond 
 The grave there is no heaven, in whose wide air 
 The spirit may find room, and in the love 
 Of whose bright habitants this lavish heart 
 May spend itself—what thrice-mock’d fools are we ! 
 
 Willis. 
 
 1892. HOSPITALITY. 
 
 Sir, you are very welcome to our house : 
 
 It must appear in other ways than words, 
 Therefore I scant this breathing courtesy. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 True friendship’s laws are by this rule exprest : 
 Welcome the coining, speed the parting guest. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 By Jove the stranger and the poor are sent, 
 
 And what to those we give to Jove is lent. 
 
 ' Pope. 
 
 Blest be the spot, where cheerful guests retire, 
 
 To pause from toil, and trim their evening fire. 
 Blest that abode, where want and pain despair, 
 And every stranger finds a ready chair : 
 
 1 Blest be those feasts with simple plenty crown’d, 
 Where all the ruddy family around 
 Laugh at the jests or pranks, that never fail, 
 
 Or sigh with pity at some mournful tale, 
 
 Or press the bashful stranger to his food, 
 
 And learn the luxury of doing good.— Goldsmith. 
 
 Every house was an inn, where all were welcomed 
 and feasted ; 
 
 For with this simple people, who lived like brothers 
 together, 
 
 All things were held in common, and what one had 
 was another’s : 
 
 Yet under Benedict’s roof hospitality seem’d more 
 abundant. — Longfellow. 
 
 1893. HOUSEHOLD. Angels in the 
 
 How sweet it were, if without feeble fright, 
 
 Or dying of the dreadful, beauteous sight, 
 
 An angel came to us, and we could bear 
 To see him issue from the silent air 
 At evening in our room, and bend on ours 
 His divine eyes, and bring us from his bowers 
 News of dear friends, and children who have never 
 Been dead indeed—as we shall know for ever. 
 
 I 
 
 Alas ! we think not what we daily see 
 About our hearths—angels that are to be, 
 
 Or may be if they will, and we prepare 
 Their souls and ours to meet in happy air ; 
 
 A child, a friend, a wife whose soft heart sings 
 In unison with ours, breeding its future wings. 
 
 Leigh Hunt. 
 
 1894. HOUSEHOLD. A Christian 
 
 Oh happy house ! oh home supremely blest, 
 
 Where Thou, Lord Jesus Christ, art entertain’d, 
 
 As the most welcome and beloved guest, 
 
 1 With true devotion and with love unfeign’d ; 
 
 Where all hearts beat in unison with Thine, 
 
 Where eyes grow brighter as they look on Thee, 
 Where all are ready at the slightest sign, 
 
 To do Thy will, and do it heartily. 
 
 Oh happy house ! where man and wife are one, 
 Through love of Thee, in spirit, heart, and mind ; 
 Together join’d by holy bands, which none, 
 
 Not death itself, can sever or unbind ; 
 
 Where both on Thee unfailingly depend, 
 
 In weal and woe, in good and evil days, 
 
 And hope with Thee eternity to spend, 
 
 In sweet communion and eternal praise. 
 
 Oh happy house ! where with the hands of prayer 
 Parents commit their children to the Friend, 
 
 Who, with a more than mother’s tender care, 
 
 Will watch and keep them safely to the end ; 
 
 Where they are taught to sit at Jesu’s feet, 
 
 And listen to the words of life and truth, 
 
 And learn to lisp His praise in accents sweet, 
 
 From early childhood to advancing youth. 
 
 Oh happy house ! where man and maid pursue 
 Their daily labours as unto the Lord, 
 
 Desiring only that whate’er they do, 
 
 May be according to His will and word ;— 
 
 As servants, yet as friends and brethren too, 
 
 Their love with deep humility combined, 
 
 No less in little than in great things true, 
 
 They serve Him gladly with a willing mind. 
 
 Oh happy house ! where Thou dost share the weal, 
 Where none forget Thee whatsoe’er befall; 
 
 Oh happy house ! where Thou the w^ounds dost heal, 
 The Healer and the Comforter of all ; 
 
 Till every one his stated task hath done, 
 
 And all at length shall peacefully depart 
 
 To the bright realms where Thou Thyself art gone,— 
 
 The Father’s house where Thou already art. 
 
 Spit/a. From Lyra Domestica. 
 
 1895. HOUSEHOLD. Happiness of the 
 
 But happy they, the happiest of their kind ! 
 
 Whom gentler stars unite, and in one fate 
 
HOUSEHOLD 
 
 368 
 
 HUMBLE 
 
 Their hearts, their fortunes, and their beings blend. 
 ’Tis not the coarser tie of human laws, 
 
 Unnatural oft, and foreign to the mind. 
 
 That binds their peace, but harmony itself, 
 Attuning all their passions into love ; 
 
 Where Friendship full exerts her softest power, 
 Perfect esteem enliven’d by desire 
 Ineffable, and sympathy of soul; 
 
 Thought meeting thought, and will preventing will, 
 With boundless confidence : for nought but love 
 Can answer love, and render bliss secure. 
 
 Those whom love cements in holy faith, 
 
 And equal transport, free as nature live. 
 
 Disdaining fear. What is the world to them, 
 
 Its pomp, its pleasure, and its nonsense all ! 
 
 Who in each other clasp whatever fair 
 High fancy forms and lavish hearts can wish ; 
 Something than beauty dearer, should they look 
 Or on the mind, or mind-illumined face— 
 
 Truth, goodness, honour, harmony, and love, 
 
 The richest bounty of indulgent Heaven. 
 
 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. 
 
 Then infant reason grows apace, and calls 
 For the kind hand of an assiduous care. 
 
 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. 
 
 Oh, speak the joy, ye whom the sudden tear 
 Surprises often, while you look around, 
 
 And nothing strikes your eye but sights of bliss ; 
 All various nature pressing on the heart— 
 
 An elegant sufficiency, content. 
 
 Retirement, rural quiet labour, useful life, 
 Progressive virtue, and approving Heaven ! 
 
 These are the matchless joys of virtuous love ; 
 
 And thus their moments fly. The seasons thus, 
 
 As ceaseless round a jarring world they roll, 
 
 Still find them happy ; and consenting Spring 
 Sheds her own rosy garland on their heads: 
 
 Till evening comes at last, serene and'mild; 
 
 When, after the long vernal day of life, 
 
 Enamour’d more, as more remembrance swells 
 With many a proof of recollected love, 
 
 Together down they sink, in social sleep ; 
 
 Together freed, their gentle spirits fly 
 To scenes where love and bliss immortal reign. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 1896. HUMAN LIFE. 
 
 Between two worlds life hovers like a star, 
 ’Twixt night and morn, upon the horizon’s verge : 
 How little do we know that which we are! 
 
 How less what we may be ! the eternal surge 
 Of time and tide rolls on, and bears afar 
 Our bubbles ; as the old burst, new emerge, 
 
 Lash’d from the foam of ages, while the graves 
 Of empires heave but like some passing waves. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 1897. HUMANITY. Brotherhood of 
 
 Husk the loud cannon’s roar, 
 
 The frantic warrior’s call ! 
 
 Why should the earth be drench’d with gore? 
 Are we not brothers all ? 
 
 Want, from the wretch depart ! 
 
 Chains, from the captive fall! 
 
 Sweet mercy, melt the oppressor’s heart— 
 Sufferers are brothers all. 
 
 Churches and sects, strike down 
 Each mean partition-wall ; 
 
 Let love each harsher feeling drown— 
 Christians are brothers all. 
 
 Let love and truth alone 
 Hold human hearts in thrall, 
 
 That Heaven its work at length may own, 
 And men be brothers all.— Johns. 
 
 1898. HUMANITY. Cry of 
 
 ‘There is no God,’ the foolish saith, 
 
 But none, ‘ There is no sorrow ; ’ 
 
 And nature oft the cry of faith 
 In bitter need will borrow: 
 
 Eyes which the preacher could not school, 
 
 By wayside graves are raised ; 
 
 And lips say, ‘ God be pitiful,’ 
 
 Who ne’er said, ‘God be praised.’ 
 
 Be pitiful, O God ! 
 
 E. B. Browning. 
 
 1899. HUMBLE. Consolations for the 
 
 He that high growth on cedars did bestow, 
 
 Gave also lowly mushrooms leave to grow. 
 
 In Hainan’s pomp poor Mardocheus wept, 
 
 Yet God did turn his fate upon his foe: 
 
 The lazar pined while Dives’ feast was kept, 
 
 Yet he to heaven, to hell did Dives go. 
 
 We trample grass, and prize the flowers of May, 
 Yet grass is green when flowers do fade away. 
 
 Southwell. 
 
 The great Controller of our fate 
 Deign’d to be man, and lived in low estate. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
HUMBLE 
 
 369 
 
 HUMILITY 
 
 1900. HUMBLE. Safety of the 
 
 Often to our comfort, shall we find 
 
 The sharded beetle in a safer hold 
 
 Than is the full-wing’d eagle.— Shakespeare. 
 
 The noble find their 
 Lives and deaths still troublesome ; 
 
 But humility doth sleep, whilst the storm 
 Grows hoarse with scolding.— Davenant. 
 
 • 
 
 He that is down need fear no fall; 
 
 He that is low, no pride: 
 
 He that is humble ever shall 
 
 Have God to be his guide.— Banyan. 
 
 1901. HUMILITY. Affected 
 
 In proud humility a pious man went through the 
 
 * field; 
 
 The ears of corn were bowing in the wind, as if they 
 kneel’d: 
 
 He struck them on the head, and modestly began to 
 say, 
 
 ‘ Unto the Lord, not unto me, such honours should 
 you pay.’— Oriental , tr. by IV. R. Alger. 
 
 K 
 
 1902. HUMILITY. Blessing of 
 
 Oh ! learn that it is only by the lowly 
 The paths of peace are trod ; 
 
 If thou would’st keep thy garments white and holy, 
 Walk humbly with thy God. 
 
 The man with earthly wisdom high uplifted, 
 
 Is in God’s sight a fool: 
 
 ^ But he in heavenly truth most deeply gifted, 
 
 Sits lowest in Christ’s school. 
 
 The lowly spirit God hath consecrated 
 As His abiding rest; 
 
 An angel by some patriarch’s tent hath waited, 
 When kings had no such guest. 
 
 * The dew that never wets the flinty mountain, 
 
 Falls in the valley free ; 
 
 Bright verdure fringes the small desert fountain, 
 
 But barren sand the sea. 
 
 Not in the stately oak the fragrance dwelletn, 
 
 Which charms the general wood ; 
 
 But in the violet low, whose sweetness telleth 
 
 ■> 
 
 Its unseen neighbourhood. 
 
 The censer, swung by the proud hand of merit, 
 Fumes with a fire abhorr’d ; 
 
 But faith’s two mites, dropp’d covertly, inherit 
 A blessing from the Lord. 
 
 1903. HUMILITY. Caution respecting 
 
 Humility mainly becometh the converse of man 
 with his Maker, 
 
 But oftentimes it seemeth out of place of man with 
 man ? 
 
 Render unto all men their due, but remember thou 
 also art a man, 
 
 And cheat not thyself of the reverence which is owing 
 to thy reasonable being. — Tapper. 
 
 1904. HUMILITY. Confident 
 
 The mistakes of my life are many, 
 
 The sins of my heart are more, 
 
 And I scarce can see for weeping— 
 
 But I knock on the open door. 
 
 I am lowest of those who love Him, 
 
 I am weakest of those who pray— 
 
 But I come as He has bidden, 
 
 And He will not say me Nay. 
 
 My mistakes His love shall cover, 
 
 My sins He will wash away, 
 
 And the feet that shrink and falter 
 Shall walk through the gate of day. 
 
 If I turn not from His whisper, 
 
 If I let not go His hand, 
 
 I shall see Him in His beauty— 
 
 The King in the far-off land. 
 
 The mistakes of my life are many, 
 
 And my soul is sick with sin, 
 
 And I scarce can see for weeping—- 
 
 But the Lord will let me in.— Una Locke. 
 
 1905. HUMILITY : contrasted with pride. 
 
 Pride, with haughty port, defies in vain 
 The force of rough adversity, which rends 
 With double violence the stubborn heart. 
 
 But, like a tender plant, Humility 
 Bends low before the threat’ning blast unhurt, 
 Eludes its rage, and lives through all the storm. 
 Pride is the livery of the prince of darkness, 
 Worn by his slaves who glory in their shame; 
 
 A gaudy dress, but tarnish’d, rent, and foul, 
 
 And loathsome to the holy eye of Heaven. 
 
 But sweet humility, a shining robe, 
 
 Bestow’d by Heaven upon its favourite sons ; 
 
 The robe which God approves and angels wear— 
 Fair semblance of the glorious Prince of Light, 
 Who stoop’d to dwell (Divine humility !) 
 
 With sinful worms, and poverty, and scorn. 
 
 Pride leads her wretched votaries to contempt, 
 
 To certain ruin, infamy, and death ; 
 
 24 
 
HUMILITY 
 
 370 
 
 HUMILITY 
 
 But sweet humility points out the way 
 To happiness, and life, and lasting honours. 
 Humility, how glorious ! how divine ! 
 
 Thus clothed, and thus enrich’d, oh may I shine ; 
 Be mine this treasure, this celestial robe, 
 
 And let the sons of pride possess the globe. 
 
 Mrs Steele. 
 
 1906. HUMILITY. Demand for 
 
 Humble we must be, if to heaven we go ; 
 
 High is the roof there, but the gate is low : 
 Whene’er thou speak’st, look with a lowly eye— 
 Grace is increased by humility.— Herrick. 
 
 1907. HUMILITY. Fable of 
 
 From a dark cloud a drop of rain 
 Was falling, when, alas ! ashamed 
 As it approach’d the boundless main, 
 
 In woeful accents it exclaim’d, 
 
 ‘ How wide ; how vast !—Ah, me, forlorn ! 
 
 With that compared, I am but nought! ’ 
 While thus it view’d itself with scorn, 
 
 A shell it in its bosom caught; 
 
 Thus conscious of its humbler state, 
 
 ’Twas changed into a brilliant gem, 
 
 An orient pearl—and raised by fate 
 
 To deck the brightest diadem. — Oriental. 
 
 1908. HUMILITY. False 
 
 There are some that use 
 Humility to serve their pride, and seem 
 Humble upon their way, to be the prouder 
 At their wish’d journey’s end.— Denham. 
 
 1909. HUMILITY: fits us for service. 
 
 Lord, I have question’d oft who best can work 
 For Thee below ? 
 
 Who can live nearest unto Thee, and most 
 Of Thy will know ? 
 
 Whom hast Thou given most to taste the joy 
 Of winning souls ? 
 
 >Tis he who humblest is, who on his Lord 
 Each burden rolls. 
 
 Yes, who would do Thee truest service, Lord, 
 Must lowly be ; 
 
 And humbly lay his will down at Thy feet, 
 
 To learn of Thee. 
 
 Lord, I would empty me of self, so may 
 The praise be Thine 
 
 Of work Thou givest me, while what is left— 
 
 Its joy—be mine. 
 
 For I am only happy, Lord, when I 
 Can merge my will 
 
 In Thine, the good and perfect one ; ’tis thus— 
 
 I can be still. 
 
 Read we the roll of faithful saints who have 
 High service done : • 
 
 Holy and humble ‘ men of heart ’ were they 
 Whose wills were one 
 
 With Thine : they knew no other thought than this— 
 To set the Lord 
 
 Always before their face, and to obey 
 His lightest word. 
 
 God’s saints are but the vessels which are fill’d 
 From heavenly springs ; 
 
 Through whom He, as a fountain, His choice gifts 
 Around Him flings. 
 
 But if the vessel first be overcharged 
 With selfish dross, 
 
 ’Tis not itself alone, but all around, 
 
 Who suffer loss. 
 
 And humble souls are willing God should take 
 Into His care 
 
 Their vessels, which He cleanses for their place 
 In heaven, where 
 
 No more opposing thoughts can entrance find 
 Within the breast 
 
 Of one who, through God’s discipline, has pass d 
 To endless rest. 
 
 1910. HUMILITY. Ideals of 
 
 Humility is the softening shadow before the statue 
 of Excellence, 
 
 And lieth lowly on the ground, beloved and lovely 
 as the violet ; 
 
 Humility is the fair-haired maid, that calleth Worth 
 her brother, 
 
 The gentle silent nurse, that fostereth infant virtues ; 
 
 Humility bringeth no excuse ; she is welcome to God 
 and man: 
 
 Her countenance is needful unto all who would 
 prosper in either world ; 
 
 And the mild light of her sweet face is mirrored in 
 the eyes of her companions, 
 
 And straightway stand they accepted, children of 
 penitence and love.— Tttpper. 
 
 1911. HUMILITY. Place of 
 
 Give me the lowest place ; not that I dare 
 Ask for that lowest place, but Thou hast died 
 
 That I might live and share 
 Thy glory by Thy side. 
 
 Give me the lowest place : or if for me 
 
 That lowest place too high, make one more low, 
 
 Where I may sit and see 
 My God, and love Thee so. 
 
 Christina G. Rossetti. 
 
HUMILITY 
 
 37i 
 
 HYPOCRITE 
 
 1912. HUMILITY. Reward of 
 
 The bird that soars on highest wing 
 Builds on the ground her lowly nest; 
 
 And she that doth most sweetly sing 
 Sings in the shade when all things rest; 
 
 In lark and nightingale we see 
 What honour hath humility. 
 
 When Mary chose the ‘ better part,’ 
 
 She meekly sat at Jesus’ feet; 
 
 And Lydia’s gently open’d heart 
 
 Was made for God’s own temple meet : 
 
 Fairest and best adorn’d is she 
 Whose clothing is humility. 
 
 The saint that wears heaven’s brightest crown 
 In deepest adoration bends ; 
 
 The weight of glory bows him down 
 The most when most his soul ascends ; 
 
 Nearest the throne itself must be 
 The footstool of humility.— J. Montgomery. 
 
 1913. HUMILITY : the eldest-born of virtue. 
 
 Humility is eldest-born of virtue, * 
 
 And claims the birthright at the throne of heaven. 
 
 Murphy. 
 
 1914. HUMILITY : the root and foundation of 
 virtue. 
 
 Humility, that low, sweet root, 
 
 From which all heavenly virtues shoot.— Moore. 
 
 Lowliness is the base of every virtue : 
 
 And he who goes the lowest, builds the safest. 
 
 My God keeps all His pity for the proud. 
 
 Bailey. 
 
 I 1915. HYPOCRISY. Ceremonious 
 
 It was withal a highly polish’d age, 
 
 And scrupulous in ceremonious rite. 
 
 When stranger stranger met upon the way, 
 
 . 1 First each to each bow’d most respectfully, 
 
 • And large profession made of humble service, 
 
 And then the stronger took the other’s purse. 
 
 And he that stabb’d his neighbour to the heart, 
 Stabb’d him politely, and return’d the blade 
 J Reeking into its sheath, with graceful air. 
 
 Pollok. 
 
 1916. HYPOCRISY : common. 
 
 . 
 
 Like the detested tribe 
 Of ancient Pharisees, beneath the mask 
 Of clamorous piety, what numbers veil 
 Contaminated, vicious hearts ! How many 
 In the devoted temple of their God, 
 
 With hypocritic eye, from which the tear 
 
 Of penitential anguish seems to flow, 
 
 Pour forth their vows, and by affected zeal 
 Pre-eminent devotion boast ; while vice 
 Within the guilty breast rankles unseen. 
 
 Hayes. 
 
 Few men dare show their thoughts of worst 01 best; 
 Dissimulation always sets apart 
 A corner for herself; and therefore Fiction 
 Is that which passes with least contradiction. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 1917. HYPOCRISY : depicted. 
 
 Next stood Hypocrisy, with holy leer, 
 
 Soft smiling and demurely looking down ; 
 
 But hid the dagger underneath the gown. — Dryden. 
 
 1918. HYPOCRISY : deplored. 
 
 Ah, that deceit should steal such gentle shapes, 
 
 And with a virtuous visor hide deep vice ! 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Oh, what may man within him hide, 
 
 Though angel on the outward side !— Shakespeare. 
 
 1919. HYPOCRISY : invisible. 
 
 Hypocrisy, the only evil that walks 
 Invisible, except to God alone, 
 
 By His permissive will, through heaven and earth. 
 And oft, though wisdom wakes, suspicion sleeps 
 At wisdom’s gate, and to simplicity 
 Resigns her charge, while goodness thinks no ill 
 Where no ill seems.— Milton. 
 
 1920. HYPOCRISY. Merit of 
 
 Hypocrisy, detest her as we may 
 
 (And no man’s hatred ever wrong’d her yet), 
 
 May claim this merit still, that she admits 
 The worth of what she mimics with such care, 
 
 And thus gives virtue indirect applause.— Cozoper. 
 
 1921. HYPOCRISY : profitless. 
 
 SEEMING devotion doth but gild the knave 
 That’s neither faithful, honest, just, nor brave ; 
 But when religion doth with virtue join, 
 
 It makes a hero like an angel shine. — Waller. 
 
 1922. HYPOCRISY. Successful 
 
 So smooth he daub’d his vice with show of virtue, 
 Pie lived from all attainder of suspect. —Shakespeare. 
 
 1923. HYPOCRITE : accursed. 
 
 No man’s condition is so base as his ; 
 
 None more accursed than he : for man esteems 
 
HYPOCRITE 
 
 372 
 
 HYPOCRITE 
 
 Him hateful, ’cause he seems not what he is ; 
 
 God hates him, ’cause he is not what he seems : 
 What grief is absent, or what mischief can 
 Be added to the hate of God and man ?— Quarles. 
 
 1924. HYPOCRITE : detected. 
 
 God beholds thee, wretch, though wrapt in prayer, 
 A wolf disguised, a painted sepulchre; 
 
 Regards no more thy cant and godly whine, 
 
 Than yon dumb statue on the marble shrine, 
 
 Whose hands are seen in holy rapture closed, 
 
 And steadfast eyes to heaven alone disposed, 
 Prayer’s senseless image, where no soul within 
 Speaks through the form, and animates the mien. 
 
 James Scott. 
 
 1925. HYPOCRITE. Devices of the 
 
 Why, I can smile, and murder while I smile ; 
 
 And cry content, to that which grieves my heart; 
 And wet my cheeks with artificial tears ; 
 
 And frame my face to all occasions.— Shakespeare. 
 
 How smooth and even do they bear themselves! 
 
 As if allegiance in their bosom sat, 
 
 Crowned with faith, and constant loyalty. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 I, under fair pretence of friendly ends, 
 
 And well-placed words of glossy courtesy, 
 
 Baited with reason not implausible, 
 
 Wind me into the easy-hearted man, 
 
 And hug him into snares.— Milton. 
 
 They 
 
 Can pray upon occasion, talk of heaven, 
 
 Turn up their goggling eye-balls, rail at vice, 
 Dissemble, lie, and preach, like any priest . — Otway. 
 
 1926. HYPOCRITE. Emblem of a 
 
 The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose. 
 
 An evil soul, producing holy witness, 
 
 Is like a villain with a smiling cheek; 
 
 A goodly apple rotten at the heart : 
 
 Oh, what a goodly outside falsehood hath ! 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 1927. HYPOCRITE. Fate of the 
 
 To just contempt ye vain pretenders fall, 
 
 The people’s fable, and the scorn of all.— Pope. 
 
 1928. HYPOCRITE. Simile of a 
 
 To picture that cold pride so harsh and hard, 
 
 Fancy a peacock in a poultry-yard. 
 
 Behold him in conceited circles sail, 
 
 Strutting and dancing, and now planted stiff, 
 
 In all his pomp of pageantry, as if 
 He felt ‘ the eyes of Europe’ on his tail! 
 
 As for the humble breed retain’d by man, 
 
 He scorns the whole domestic clan—- 
 He bows, he bridles, 
 
 He wheels, he sidles, 
 
 As last, with stately dodgings in a comer, 
 
 He pens a simple russet hen, to scorn her 
 Full in the blaze of his resplendent fan ! 
 
 ‘ Look here,’ he cries (to give him words), 
 
 ‘ Thou feather’d clay, thou scum of birds ! 
 Flirting the rustling plumage in her eyes,— 
 
 £ Look here, thou vile predestined sinner, 
 
 Doom’d to be roasted for a dinner, 
 
 Behold these lovely variegated dyes ! 
 
 These are the rainbow colours of the skies, 
 
 That Heaven has shed upon me con amore— 
 
 A Bird of Paradise ?—a pretty story ! 
 
 I am that Saintly Fowl, thou paltry chick ! 
 
 Look at my crown of glory ! 
 
 Thou dingy, dirty, dabbled, draggled jill ! ’ 
 
 And off goes Partlett, wriggling from a kick, 
 
 With bleeding scalp laid open by his bill 
 
 That little simile exactly paints 
 How sinners are despised by saints. 
 
 By saints !—the hypocrites that ope heaven’s door 
 Obsequious to the sinful man of riches ; 
 
 But put the wicked, naked, barelegg’d poor 
 In parish stocks, instead of breeches.— Hood. 
 
 1929. HYPOCRITE. The world a 
 
 The world’s all title-page ; there’s no contents ; 
 The world’s all face : the man who shows his heart 
 Is hooted for his nudities and scorn’d.— Young. 
 
 1930. HYPOCRITE. Unmasked 
 
 He was a man 
 
 Who stole the livery of the court of heaven, 
 
 To serve the devil in : in Virtue’s guise 
 Devour’d the widow’s house and orphan’s bread ; 
 
 In holy phrase transacted villanies 
 
 That common sinners durst not meddle with. 
 
 At sacred feast, he sat among the saints, 
 
 And with his guilty hands touch’d holiest things. 
 And none of sin lamented more, or sigh’d 
 More deeply, or with graver countenance, 
 
 Or longer prayer, wept o’er the dying man, 
 
 Whose infant children, at the moment, he 
 Plann’d how to rob : in sermon style he bought, 
 And sold, and lied ; and salutations made 
 In Scripture terms : he pray’d by quantity, 
 
 And with his repetitions long and loud, 
 
HYPOCRITES 
 
 373 
 
 IDLENESS 
 
 All knees were weary ; with one hand he put 
 A penny in the urn of poverty, 
 
 And with the other took a shilling out. 
 
 On charitable lists—those tmmps which told 
 The public ear, who had in secret done 
 The poor a benefit, and half the alms 
 They told of, took themselves to keep them sound¬ 
 ing— 
 
 ,He blazed his name, more pleased to have it there 
 Than in the book of life. Seest thou the man ! 
 
 A serpent with an angel’s voice ! a grave 
 
 With flowers bestrew’d ! and yet few were deceived. 
 
 His virtues being over-done, his face 
 
 Too grave, his prayers too long, his charities 
 
 Too pompously attended, and his speech 
 
 Larded too frequently, and out of time, 
 
 [With serious phraseology—were rents 
 That in his garments open’d in spite of him, 
 
 Through which the well-accustom’d eye could see 
 The rottenness of his heart. None deeper blush’d. 
 As in the all-piercing light he stood exposed, 
 
 No longer herding with the holy ones: 
 
 Yet still he tried to bring his countenance 
 To sanctimonious seeming ; but, meanwhile, 
 
 The shame within, now visible to all, 
 
 His purpose balk’d : the righteous smiled, and even 
 Despair itself some signs of laughter gave, 
 
 As ineffectually he strove to wipe 
 His brow, that inward guiltiness defiled. 
 
 Detected wretch ! of all the reprobate, 
 
 None seem’d maturer for the flames of hell; 
 
 Where still his face, from ancient custom, wears 
 
 A holy air, which says to all that pass 
 
 Him by : I was a hypocrite on earth.— Pollok. 
 
 1931. HYPOCRITES : the serpents of society. 
 
 Think’st thou there are no serpents in the world 
 But those who slide along the grassy sod, 
 
 And sting the luckless foot that presses them ? 
 
 There are who in the path of social life 
 Do bask their spotted skins in Fortune’s suns, 
 
 And sting the soul—ay, till its healthful frame 
 Is changed to secret, festering, sore disease, 
 
 So deadly is the wound.— Joanna Baillie. 
 
 1932. IDLENESS : destroys the possibility of 
 
 fame. 
 
 Who doth to sloth his younger days engage, 
 
 For fond delight, he clips the wings of fame ; 
 
 For sloth, the canker-worm of honour’s badge, 
 
 Fame’s feather’d wings doth fret; burying the name 
 Of virtue’s worth in dust of dunghill shame, 
 
 Whom action out of dust to light doth bring, 
 
 And makes her mount to heaven with golden wing. 
 
 Mirror for Magistrates. 
 
 1933. IDLENESS. Miseries of 
 
 F ROM other care absolved, the busy mind 
 Finds in yourself a theme to pore upon : 
 
 It finds you miserable, or makes you so. 
 
 For while yourself you anxiously explore, 
 Timorous self-love, with sickening fancy’s aid, 
 Presents the danger that you dread the most. 
 And ever galls you in your tender part. 
 
 Hence some for love, and some for jealousy, 
 
 For grim religion some, and some for pride, 
 Have lost their reason : some for fear of want, 
 Want all their lives ; and others every day 
 For fear of dying suffer worse than death. 
 
 A rmstrong. 
 
 The keenest pangs the wretched find 
 Are rapture to the dreary void, 
 
 The leafless desert of the mind, 
 
 The waste of feelings unemploy’d ; 
 
 Who would be doom’d to gaze upon 
 A sky without a cloud or sun ? 
 
 Less hideous far the tempest’s roar, 
 
 Than ne’er to brave the billows more— 
 Thrown, when the war of winds is o’er, 
 
 A lonely wreck on Fortune’s shore, 
 
 ’Mid sullen calm, and silent bay, 
 
 Unseen to drop by dull decay ; 
 
 Better to sink beneath the shock, 
 
 Than moulder piecemeal on the rock. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 1934. IDLENESS : renders men useless. 
 
 An idler is a watch that wants both hands ; 
 
 As useless if it goes as if it stands.— Cowper. 
 
 1935. IDLENESS. Results of 
 
 See the issue of your sloth ; 
 
 Of sloth comes pleasure, of pleasure comes riot, 
 Of riot comes disease, of disease comes spending, 
 Of spending comes want, of want comes theft, 
 And of theft comes hanging.— Chapman. 
 
 By nature’s laws, immutable and just, 
 Enjoyment stops where indolence begins ; 
 
 And purposeless, to-morrow, borrowing sloth, 
 Itself heaps on its shoulders loads of woe, 
 
 Too heavy to be borne.— Pollok. 
 
 1936. IDLENESS : robs men of rest. 
 
 There, too, my Paridel ! she mark’d thee there, 
 Stretch’d on the rack of a too easy chair, 
 
 And heard thy everlasting yawn confess 
 The pains and penalties of idleness.— Pope. 
 
IDLENESS 
 
 374 
 
 IDOLATRY 
 
 The sedentary stretch their lazy length 
 When custom bids, but no refreshment find, 
 
 For none they need : the languid eye, the cheek 
 Deserted of its bloom, the flaccid, shrunk, 
 
 And wither’d muscle, and the vapid soul, 
 Reproach their owner with that love of rest 
 To which he forfeits e’en the rest he loves. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 Come hither, ye that press your beds of down 
 And sleep not : see him sweating o’er his bread 
 Before he eats it ’Tis the primal curse, 
 
 But soften’d into mercy ; made the pledge 
 Of cheerful days, and nights without a groan. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 J 937 - IDLENESS : shameful. 
 
 An empty form 
 Is the weak virtue that amid the shade 
 Lamenting lies, with future schemes amused ; 
 
 W hile wickedness and folly, kindred powers, 
 Confound the world. — Thomson. 
 
 I would not waste my spring of youth 
 In idle dalliance: I would plant rich seeds, 
 
 To blossom in my manhood, and bear fruit 
 When I am old.— Hillhouse. 
 
 I 93 ^ IDLENESS : sometimes falsely charged. 
 
 How various his enjoyments, whom the world 
 Calls idle ; and who justly in return 
 Esteems that busy world an idler too ! 
 
 Friends, books, a garden, and perhaps his pen, 
 Delightful industry enjoy’d at home, 
 
 And nature in her cultivated trim 
 Dress’d to his taste, inviting him abroad— 
 
 Can he want occupation, who has these ? 
 
 Will he be idle, who has much t’ enjoy Cowper. 
 
 1939. IDLENESS : unreasonable. 
 
 Hamlet. What is man, 
 
 If his chief good and market of his time 
 Be but to sleep and feed ? A beast, no more. 
 
 Sure He that made us with such large discourse, 
 Looking before and after, gave us not 
 That capability and god-like reason 
 To rust in us unused.— Shakespeare. 
 
 1940. IDOLATRY: common. 
 
 And still from Him we turn away, 
 
 And fill our hearts with worthless things: 
 
 The fires of avarice melt the clay, 
 
 And forth the idol springs ! 
 
 Ambition’s flame, and passion’s heat, 
 
 By wondrous alchemy transmute 
 Earth’s dross, to raise some gilded brute 
 To fill Jehovah’s seat.— Clinch. 
 
 I 94 I - IDOLATRY. Cruelties of 
 
 Before the idol-monster was the blood 
 Of man pour’d out by man. No mother there 
 Bless’d the fair skies which smiled upon her babe, 
 But hasten’d rather, with unnatural hand, 
 
 To crush the unfolding life, and turn aside 
 The dark inheritance of woe and pain, 
 
 Ere yet the unconscious victim own’d its doom. 
 
 Alexander 
 
 1942. IDOLATRY: legend of the boy Abrahan 
 
 The sire of Abraham, Terah by name, 
 
 Made idols for his tribe, selling the same 
 To whosoever wanted. Now, one day, 
 
 Having work otherwhere, he went av 7 ay 
 Leaving the lad in charge. The first to call 
 Was an old man, who gravely priced them all, 
 
 And pick’d one out to buy. ‘ Old man, tell me 
 1 hine age,’ ask’d Abraham. ‘ Three-score,’ said h< 
 ‘ A rt tllou three-score, and yet no whit ashamed 
 To worship what my father’s cunning framed 
 In half-a-dozen hours ? I marvel much 
 That one should bend his hoary head to such 
 A baby god ! ’ At this, albeit sorely vex’d, 
 
 The man in dumb abashment left him. Next 
 ; Came in a woman, serious-faced, to bring 
 Of flesh and loaves and fruit an offering. 
 
 Feed them thyself,’ laugh’d Abraham, £ and see 
 How fast they eat ! ’ Whereat right joyfully 
 She parcel’d each its share. Then did he take 
 A club of stone, and, cleverly smiting, brake 
 In myriad pieces every idol but 
 The largest, in whose fist he slyly put 
 The weapon. Terrified, the woman fled ; 
 
 And when Terah return’d and saw, he said : 
 
 \Y hat impious thing is here ? Go get me rods 
 To scourge who thus hath dared‘abase the gods ! ’ 
 Nay, father, ’ spake the youth, ‘ while thou was 
 
 gone 
 
 A woman brought them victuals ; whereupon 
 The younger gods began to eat, and so 
 Enraged the eldest, with one heavy blow 
 He smash’d their heads.’ ‘ Out on thee for a liar ! ’ 
 Cried Terah angrily. ‘Wilt mock thy sire? 
 
 Do I not know these neither eat-nor drink, 
 
 Hear not with ears, nor see with eyes, nor think ?’ 
 
 ‘ And yet, ’ urged Abraham, ‘ expectest thou 
 That I to such mere dummies mean to bow ? ’ 
 
 Then Terah for his crime had Abraham sent 
 Forthwith before the judge for punishment. 
 
IDOLATRY 
 
 375 
 
 IDOLS 
 
 And Nimrod ask’d the youth : ‘ Hast thou such ire 
 Against thy father’s gods ? Then worship fire. ’ 
 
 ‘Why may I not to water pray,’ said he, 
 
 ‘That quencheth fire?’ ‘Well, then, so let it be ; 
 Pray to the water.’ ‘Yet why not, instead, 
 
 Unto the clouds, that water hold?’ he said. 
 
 ‘ Well, then, to them.’ ‘ But to the wind, why not, 
 That sways the clouds as swayeth thee my thought?’ 
 
 ‘ Yes, pray unto the wind.’ ‘ But nay, Nimrod, 
 
 Be fire nor water, cloud nor wind, my god. 
 
 Before a Mightier than they I fall— 
 
 Him only will I serve who made them all! ’ 
 
 Rachel Pomeroy. 
 
 1943. IDOLATRY. Modem forms of 
 
 If, when the Lord of Glory is in sight, 
 
 Thou turn thy back upon that fountain clear, 
 
 To bow before the ‘ little drop of light ’ 
 
 Which dim-eyed men call praise and glory here : 
 
 . What dost thou, but adore the sun, and scorn 
 Him at whose only word both sun and stars were 
 born ? 
 
 If while around the gales from Eden breathe, 
 
 Thou hide thine eyes, to make thy peevish moan 
 Over some broken reed of earth beneath, 
 
 Some darling of blind fancy, dead and gone, 
 
 As wisely might’st thou in Jehovah’s fane 
 Offer thy love and tears to Thammuz slain. 
 
 Turn thee from these, or dare not to inquire 
 Of Him whose Name is Jealous, lest in wrath, 
 
 He hear and answer thine unblest desire : 
 
 Far better we should cross His lightning’s path, 
 Than be according to our idols heard, 
 
 And God should take us at our own vain word. 
 
 Keble. 
 
 1944. IDOLATRY. Overthrow of 
 
 No more at Delos or at Delphi now, 
 
 Or e’en at mighty Ammon’s Libyan shrine, 
 
 The white-robed priests before the altar bow, 
 
 To slay the victim and to pour the wine, 
 
 While gifts of kingdoms round each pillar twine. 
 Scarce can the classic pilgrim, sweeping free 
 From fallen architrave the desert vine, 
 
 Trace the dim names of their divinity : 
 
 Gods of the ruin’d temples, where, oh where are 
 ye ?— Bethune. 
 
 1945. IDOLS. Breaker of 
 
 Lo ! a hundred proud pagodas have the Moslem 
 torches burn’d, 
 
 Lo ! a thousand monstrous idols Mahmoud’s zeal has 
 overturn’d. 
 
 He from Northern Ghuznee issuing, through the 
 world this word doth bear— 
 
 God is ONE ; ye shall no other with the peerless One 
 compare: 
 
 Till in India’s farthest corner he has reach’d the cost¬ 
 liest shrine 
 
 Of the Brahmins, idol-tending—which they hold the 
 most divine. 
 
 Profits not the wild resistance; stands the victor at 
 the gate, 
 
 With this hugest idol’s ruin all his work to consum¬ 
 mate. 
 
 Forth in long procession streaming came the sup¬ 
 pliant priests to meet— 
 
 Came with ransom and with homage the resistless 
 one to greet. 
 
 Ransom huge of gold they offer, pearls of price and 
 jewels rare, 
 
 Purchase of their idol’s safety, this their dearest will 
 he spare. 
 
 And there wanted not who counsell’d, that he should 
 his hand withhold, 
 
 Should that single image suffer, and accept this 
 needed gold. 
 
 But he rather—‘ God raised me, not to make a shame¬ 
 ful gain, 
 
 Trafficking in hideous idols, with a service false and 
 vain ; 
 
 But to count my work unfinish’d, till I sweep them 
 from the world : 
 
 Stand, and see the thing ye sued for, by this hand to 
 ruin hurl’d.’ 
 
 High he rear’d his battle-axe, and heavily came down 
 the blow: 
 
 Reel’d the abominable image, broken, bursten, to 
 and fro ; 
 
 From its shatter’d side revealing pearls and diamonds, 
 showers of gold ; 
 
 More than all that proffer’d ransom, more than all a 
 hundredfold. 
 
 Thou too, Heaven’s commission’d warrior to cast 
 down each idol throne, 
 
 In thy heart’s profaned temple, make this faithful 
 deed thine own. 
 
 Still they plead and still they promise; wilt thou 
 suffer them to stand ? 
 
 They have pleasures, gifts, and treasures, to enrich 
 thee at command. 
 
 
IDOLS 
 
 376 
 
 ILLS 
 
 Heed not thou, but boldly strike them ; let descend 
 the faithful blow ; 
 
 From their wreck and from their ruin first will thy 
 true riches flow. 
 
 Thou shalt lose thy life, and find it; thou shalt boldly 
 cast it forth, 
 
 And then back again receiving, know it in its endless 
 worth.— Trench. 
 
 1946. IDOLS : removed, 
 
 God keeps a niche 
 
 In heaven to hold our idols ; and albeit 
 He brake them to our faces, and denied 
 That our close kisses should impair their white, 
 
 I know we shall behold them, raised complete, 
 The dust swept from their beauty—glorified 
 New Memnons singing in the great God-light. 
 
 E. B. Browning. 
 
 1947. IGNORANCE. 
 
 Ignorance is the curse of God ; 
 Knowledge the wing wherewith we fly to heaven. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 The truest characters of ignorance 
 Are vanity, and pride, and arrogance ; 
 
 As blind men use to bear their noses higher 
 Than those that have their eyes and sight entire. 
 
 Butler. 
 
 But ’tis some justice to ascribe to chance 
 The wrongs you must expect from ignorance : 
 None can the moulds of their creation choose, 
 
 We therefore should men’s ignorance excuse. 
 
 When born too low to reach to things sublime, 
 
 ’Tis rather their misfortune than their crime. 
 
 Davenant. 
 
 Whilst timorous knowledge stands considering, 
 Audacious ignorance hath done the deed. 
 
 For who knows most, the more he knows to doubt; 
 The least discourse is commonly most stout. 
 
 Daniel. 
 
 If we see right, we see our woes; 
 
 Then what avails it to have eyes ? 
 
 From ignorance our comfort flows: 
 
 The only wretched are the wise !— Prior. 
 
 Yet ah ! why should they know their fate ? 
 
 Since sorrow never comes too late, 
 
 And happiness too swiftly flies 
 Thought would destroy their paradise. 
 
 No more : where ignorance is bliss, 
 
 ’Tis folly to be wise.— Gray. 
 
 By ignorance is pride increased ; 
 
 Those most assume who know the least: 
 
 Their own self-balance gives them weight, 
 
 But every other finds them light. — Gay. 
 
 1948. ILLNESS. 
 
 May be he is not well, 
 
 Infirmity doth still neglect all office, 
 
 Whereto our health is bound : we’re not ourselves, 
 When nature, being oppress’d, commands the mind 
 To suffer with the body.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Thou art like night, O Sickness ! deeply stilling 
 Within my heart the world’s disturbing sound, 
 And the dim quiet of my chamber filling 
 
 With low, sweet voices by life’s tumult drown’d ; 
 Thou art like awful night!—thou gatherest round 
 The things that are unseen, though close they lie,— 
 And with a truth, clear, startling, and profound, 
 Givest their dread presence to our mental eye. 
 
 Mrs Hemans. 
 
 I lay ill; 
 
 And the dark hot flood throbbing through and 
 through me, 
 
 They bled me, and I swoon’d ; and as I died, 
 
 Or seem’d to die, a soft sweet sadness fell 
 With a voluptuous weakness on my soul, 
 
 That made me feel all happy.— Bailey. 
 
 1949. ILLNESS. Consolation in 
 
 When languor and disease invade 
 This trembling house of clay, 
 
 ’Tis sweet to look beyond our cage, 
 
 And long to fly away ; 
 
 Sweet to look inward, and attend 
 The whispers of His love; 
 
 Sweet to look upward to the place 
 Where Jesus pleads above ; 
 
 Sweet in the confidence of faith 
 To trust His firm decrees ; 
 
 Sweet to lie passive in His hand. 
 
 And know no will but His. 
 
 Sweet to rejoice in lively hope, 
 
 That, when my change shall come, 
 
 Angels will hover round my bed, 
 
 And waft my spirit home. 
 
 There shall my disimprison’d soul 
 Behold Him, and adore ; 
 
 Be with His likeness satisfied, 
 
 And grieve and sin no more.— Toplady. 
 
 1950. ILLS. Philosophy of 
 
 All evils natural are moral goods ; 
 
 All discipline, indulgence, on the whole. 
 
ILLUSTRATION 
 
 377 
 
 IMAGINATION 
 
 None are unhappy .... all have cause to smile, 
 
 But such as to themselves that cause deny. 
 
 Our faults are at the bottom of our pains : 
 
 Error in act or judgment is the source 
 Of endless sighs. We sin, or we mistake, 
 
 And nature tax, when false opinion stings. 
 
 Let impious grief be banish’d, joy indulged ; 
 
 But chiefly then, when grief puts in her claim. 
 
 Joy from the joyous frequently betrays, 
 
 Oft lives in vanity, and dies in woe. . . . 
 
 Joy amidst ills, corroborates, exalts: 
 
 ’Tis joy and conquest—joy, and virtue too. 
 
 A noble fortitude in ills delights 
 Heaven, earth, ourselves. . . ’tis duty, glory, peace, 
 i Affliction is the good man’s shining scene ; 
 
 Prosperity conceals his brightest ray ; 
 
 As night to stars, woe lustre gives to man. 
 
 Heroes in battle, pilots in the storm, 
 
 And virtue in calamities, admire. 
 
 The crown of manhood is a winter joy, 
 
 An evergreen, that stands the northern blast, 
 
 And blossoms in the rigour of our fate. 
 
 ’Tis a prime part of happiness to know 
 How much unhappiness must prove our lot; 
 
 1 A part which few possess. I’ll pay life’s tax 
 Without one rebel murmur, from this hour, 
 
 Nor think it misery to be a man .... 
 
 Who thinks it is shall never be a god. 
 
 Some ills we wish for, when we wish to live. 
 
 Young. 
 
 1951. ILLUSTRATION. Habit of 
 
 Wherefore, it is wise and well to guide the mind 
 aright, 
 
 That its aptness may be sensitive to good, and shrink 
 with antipathy from evil, 
 
 For use will mould and mark it, or non-usage dull 
 and blunt; 
 
 So to talk of spirit by analogy with substance; 
 
 And analogy is a truer guide than many teachers tell 
 of. 
 
 Similitudes are scattered round, to help us, not to 
 hurt us ; 
 
 * Moses, in his every type, and the Greater than a 
 Moses, in His parables, 
 
 Preach, in terms that all may learn, the philosophic 
 lessons of analogy. — Tipper. 
 
 1952. IMAGINATION. Cheat of the 
 
 Of its own beauty is the mind diseased, 
 
 And fevers into false creation : where, 
 
 Where are the forms the sculptor’s soul hath seized ? 
 In him alone. Can nature show so fair ? 
 
 Where are the charms and virtues which we dare 
 
 Conceive in boyhood and pursue as men? 
 
 The unreach’d paradise of our despair, 
 
 Which o’er-informs the pencil and the pen, 
 
 And overpowers the page where it would bloom 
 again ? 
 
 Who loves, raves; ’tis youth’s frenzy, but the cure 
 Is bitterer still, as charm by charm unwinds 
 Which robed our idols, and we see too sure 
 
 Nor worth nor beauty dwells from out the mind’s 
 Ideal shape of such ; yet still it binds 
 The fatal spell, and still it draws us on, 
 
 Reaping the whirlwind from the oft-sown winds ; 
 The stubborn heart, its alchemy begun, 
 
 Seems ever near the prize,—wealthiest when most 
 undone. — Byron . 
 
 1953. IMAGINATION : outruns reality. 
 
 Do what he will, he cannot realize 
 
 Half he conceives—the glorious vision flies ; 
 
 Go where he may, he cannot hope to find 
 The truth, the beauty pictured in his mind. 
 
 Rogers . 
 
 1954. IMAGINATION. Pleasures of 
 
 O BLEST of Heaven, whom not the languid songs 
 
 Of luxury, the siren! not the tribes 
 
 Of sordid wealth, nor all the gaudy spoils 
 
 Of pageant honour, can seduce to leave 
 
 Those ever-blooming sweets, which from the store 
 
 Of nature fair imagination culls 
 
 To charm the enliven’d soul! What though not all 
 Of mortal offspring can attain the heights 
 Of envied life ; though only few possess 
 Patrician treasures or imperial state ; 
 
 Yet Nature’s care to all her children just, 
 
 With richer treasures and an ampler state, 
 
 Endows at large whatever happy man 
 Will deign to use them. His the city’s pomp, 
 
 The rural honours his. Whate’er adorns 
 The princely dome, the column and the arch. 
 
 The breathing marble and the sculptured gold, 
 Beyond the proud possessor s narrow claim, 
 
 His tuneful breast enjoys. For him the Spring 
 Distils her dews, and from the silken gem 
 Its lucid leaves unfolds; for him the hand 
 Of Autumn tinges every fertile branch 
 With blooming gold, and blushes like the morn. 
 Each passing hour sheds tribute from her wings; 
 And still new beauties meet his lonely walk, 
 
 And loves unfelt attract him. Not a breeze 
 Flies o’er the meadow, not a cloud imbibes 
 The setting sun’s effulgence, not a strain 
 From all the tenants of the warbling shade 
 Ascends, but whence his bosom can partake 
 
IMAGINATION 
 
 378 
 
 I MIT A TION 
 
 Fresh pleasure, unreproved. Nor thence partakes 
 Fresh pleasure only ; for the attentive mind, 
 
 By this harmonious action on her powers, 
 
 Becomes herself harmonious : wont so oft 
 On outward things to meditate the charm 
 Of sacred order, soon she seeks at home 
 To find a kindred order, to exert 
 Within herself this elegance of love, 
 
 This fair-inspired delight : her temper’d powers 
 Refine at length, and every passion wears 
 A chaster, milder, more attractive mien.— Akenside. 
 
 1955. IMAGINATION. Power of the 
 
 Theseus. More strange than true : I never may 
 believe 
 
 These antique fables, nor these fairy toys. 
 
 Lovers and madmen have such seething brains, 
 
 Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend 
 More than cool reason ever comprehends. 
 
 The lunatic, the lover, and the poet 
 Are of imagination all compact: 
 
 Ope sees more devils than vast hell can hold— 
 
 That is, the madman : the lover, all as frantic, 
 
 Sees Helen’s beauty in a brow of Egypt : 
 
 The poet’s eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, 
 
 Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to 
 heaven ; 
 
 And, as imagination bodies forth 
 The forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen 
 Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothings 
 A local habitation and a name. 
 
 Such tricks hath strong imagination, 
 
 That if it would but apprehend some joy, 
 
 It ,comprehends"Some bringer of that joy ; 
 
 Or in the night imagining some fear, 
 
 How easy is a bush supposed a bear !— Shakespeare. 
 
 Fancy can save or kill; it hath closed up 
 Wounds when the balsam could not, and without 
 The aid of salves :—to think hath been a cure. 
 
 For witchcraft then, that’s all done by the force 
 Of mere imagination.— Cartwright. 
 
 % 
 
 1956. IMAGINATION. Powerlessness of the 
 
 Oh, who can hold a fire in his hand, 
 
 By thinking on the frosty Caucasus? 
 
 Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite, 
 
 By bare imagination of a feast ? 
 
 Or wallow naked in December snow, 
 
 By thinking on fantastic summer’s heat ? 
 
 Oh no, the apprehension of the good, 
 
 Gives but the greater feeling to the worse. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 1957. IMAGINATION. Support of 
 
 ‘ Weak is the will of Man, his judgment blind ! 
 
 Remembrance persecutes, and Hope betrays, 
 Heavy is woe ; and joy, for humankind, 
 
 A mournful thing, so transient is the blaze ! ’ 
 
 Thus might he paint our lot of mortal days 
 Who wants the glorious faculty assign’d 
 To elevate the more than reasoning mind, 
 
 And colour life’s dark cloud with orient rays. 
 Imagination is that sacred power, 
 
 Imagination lofty and refined : 
 
 ’Tis hers to pluck the amaranthine flower 
 
 Of Faith, and round the sufferer’s temples bind 
 Wreaths that endure affliction’s heaviest shower, 
 
 And do not shrink from sorrow’s keenest wind. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 1958. IMAGINATION. Tortures of the 
 
 Present fears 
 
 Are less than horrible imaginings. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Why wilt thou add to all the griefs I suffer 
 Imaginary ills and fancied tortures?— Addison. 
 
 1959. IMAGINATION : unfits men for the real¬ 
 
 ities of life. 
 
 I have fed 
 
 Perhaps too much upon the lotus-fruits 
 Imagination yields,—fruits that unfit 
 The palate for the more substantial food 
 Of our own land—reality.—Z. E. Landon. 
 
 1960. IMITATION : natural to man. 
 
 Behold the child among his new-born blisses— 
 
 A six years’ darling of a pigmy size ! 
 
 See, where mid work of his own hand he lies, 
 Fretted by sallies of his mother’s kisses, 
 
 With light upon him from his father’s eyes ! 
 
 See at his feet some little plan or chart, 
 
 Some fragment from his dream of human life, 
 Shaped by himself with newly learned art— 
 
 A wedding or a festival, 
 
 A mourning or a funeral— 
 
 And this hath now his heart, 
 
 And unto this he frames his song. 
 
 Then will he fit his tongue 
 To dialogues of business, love, or strife; 
 
 But it will not be long 
 Ere this be thrown aside, 
 
 And with new joy and pride 
 The little actor cons another part— 
 
 Filling from time to time his ‘ humorous stage ’ 
 
IMMODESTY 
 
 379 
 
 IMMORTALITY 
 
 With all the persons, down to palsied age, 
 
 That life brings with her in her equipage ; 
 
 As if his whole vocation 
 
 Were endless imitation.— Wordsworth. 
 
 1961. IMMODESTY. 
 
 Immodest words admit of no defence, 
 
 For want of decency is want of sense. 
 
 Roscommon. 
 
 1962. IMMORTALITY. Argument for 
 
 Man’s soul immortal is : whilst here they live, 
 The purest minds for perfect knowledge strive ; 
 Which is the knowledge of that glorious God, 
 From whom all life proceeds: in this abode 
 Of flesh, the soul can never reach so high, 
 
 So reason tells us. If the soul then die, 
 
 When from the body’s bonds she takes her flight, 
 Her unfulfill’d desire is frustrate quite, 
 
 And so bestow’d in vain ! It follows then, 
 
 The best desires, unto the best of men, 
 
 The Great Creator did in vain dispense, 
 
 Or else the soul must live when gone from hence, 
 And if it live after the body fall, 
 
 What reason proves that it must die at all? 
 
 May. 
 
 1963. IMMORTALITY: asserted. 
 
 The spirit of man, 
 
 Which God inspired, cannot together perish 
 With this corporeal clod.— Milton. 
 
 Cold in the dust this perish’d heart may lie, 
 
 But that which warm’d it once shall never die. 
 
 Campbell. 
 
 The sun is but a spark of fire,— 
 
 A transient meteor in the sky : 
 
 The soul, immortal as its Sire, 
 
 Shall never die ! 
 
 J. Montgomery. 
 
 1964. IMMORTALITY. Confidence in 
 
 Of man immortal ! Hear the lofty style: 
 
 ‘If so decreed, th’ Almighty will be done. 
 
 Let earth dissolve, yon ponderous orbs descend, 
 And grind us into dust: the soul is safe ; 
 
 The man emerges ; mounts above the wreck, 
 
 As towering flame from Nature’s funeral pyre; 
 
 O’er devastation, as a gainer, smiles ; 
 
 His charter, his inviolable rights, 
 
 Well pleased to learn from thunder’s impotence, 
 Death’s pointless darts, and Hell’s defeated storms.’ 
 
 Young. 
 
 1965. IMMORTALITY. Denial of 
 
 If dead, we cease to be ; if total gloom 
 
 Swallow up life’s brief flash for aye, we fare 
 As summer gusts, of sudden birth and doom, 
 
 Whose sound and motion not alone declare, 
 
 But are their whole of being ! If the breath 
 Be life itself, and not its task and tent, 
 
 If even a soul like Milton’s can know death, 
 
 O Man ! thou vessel purposeless, unmeant, 
 
 Yet drone-hive strange of phantom purposes ! 
 
 Surplus of Nature’s dread activity, 
 
 Which, as she gazed on some nigh-finish’d vase, 
 Retreating slow, with meditative pause, 
 
 She form’d with restless hands unconsciously ! 
 Blank accident! nothing’s anomaly ! 
 
 If rootless thus, thus substanceless thy state, 
 
 Go, weigh thy dreams, and be thy hopes, thy fears, 
 The counter-weights ! Thy laughter and thy tears 
 Mean but themselves, each fittest to create, 
 
 And to repay the other ! Why rejoices 
 
 Thy heart with hollow joy for hollow good ? 
 
 Why cowl thy face beneath the mourner’s hood, 
 i Why waste thy sighs, and thy lamenting voices, 
 Image of image, ghost of ghostly elf, 
 
 That such a thing as thou feel’st warm or cold ? 
 
 Yet what and whence thy gain, if thou withhold 
 These costless shadows of thy shadowy self? 
 
 Be sad ! be glad ! be neither ! seek, or shun ! 
 
 Thou hast no reason why ! Thou canst have none ; 
 Thy being’s being is contradiction.— Coleridge. 
 
 1966. IMMORTALITY. Desire for 
 
 For ever with the Lord ! 
 
 Amen, so let it be ! 
 
 Life from the dead is in that word, 
 
 ’Tis immortality. 
 
 Here in the body pent, 
 
 Absent from Him I roam ; 
 
 Yet nightly pitch my moving tent 
 A day’s march nearer home. 
 
 My Father’s house on high, 
 
 Home of my soul, how near, 
 
 At times, to faith’s foreseeing eye, 
 
 Thy golden gates appear ! 
 
 Ah ! then my spirit faints 
 To reach the land I love, 
 
 The bright inheritance of saints, 
 
 Jerusalem above. 
 
 Yet clouds will intervene, 
 
 And all my prospect flies ; 
 
 Like Noah’s dove, I flit between 
 Rough seas and stormy skies. 
 
IMMORTALITY 
 
 IMMORTALITY 
 
 380 
 
 For ever with the Lord ! 
 
 Father, if ’tis Thy will, 
 
 The promise of that faithful word 
 E’en here to me fulfil. 
 
 So when my latest breath 
 Shall rend the veil in twain, 
 
 By death I shall escape from death, 
 
 And life eternal gain. 
 
 Knowing as I am known, 
 
 How shall I love that word, 
 
 And oft repeat before the throne, 
 
 ‘ For ever with the Lord ! ’ 
 
 Jaynes Montgomery. 
 
 1967. IMMORTALITY. Hope of 
 
 Doubtless all souls have a surviving thought; 
 
 Therefore of death we think with quiet mind ; 
 But if we think of being turn’d to nought, 
 
 A trembling horror in our souls we find. 
 
 Davies. 
 
 Strong as the death it masters, is the hope 
 That onward looks to immortality: 
 
 Let the frame perish, so the soul survive, 
 
 Pure, spiritual, and loving. I believe 
 The grave exalts, not separates, the ties 
 That hold us in affection to our kind. 
 
 I will look down from yonder pitying sky, 
 
 Watching and waiting those I loved on earth ; 
 Anxious in heaven, until they, too, are there. 
 
 I will attend your guardian angel’s side 
 And weep away your faults with holy tears : 
 
 Your midnight shall be fill’d with solemn thought : 
 And when, at length, death brings you to my love, 
 Mine the first welcome heard in Paradise. 
 
 1968. IMMORTALITY. Inference of 
 
 Look Nature through : ’tis revolution all— 
 
 All change—no death. Day follows night, and night 
 The dying day ; stars rise, and set, and rise : 
 
 Earth takes th’ example. See the Summer gay, 
 With her green chaplet, and ambrosial flowers, 
 Droops into pallid Autumn: Winter grey, 
 
 Horrid with frost, and turbulent with storm, 
 
 Blows Autumn and his golden fruits away, 
 
 Then melts into the Spring: soft Spring, with breath 
 Favonian, from warm chambers of the south 
 Recalls the first. All, to reflourish, fades ; 
 
 As in a wheel, all sinks, to re-ascend. 
 
 Emblems of man, who passes, not expires. 
 
 With this minute distinction, emblems just: 
 Nature revolves, but man advances ; both 
 Eternal—that a circle, this a line. 
 
 The world of matter, with its various forms, 
 
 All dies into nefv life. Life, born from Death, 
 
 Rolls the vast mass, and shall for ever roll. 
 
 No single atom, once in being, lost, 
 
 With change of counsel charges the Most High. 
 
 What hence infers Lorenzo ? Can it be ? 
 
 Matter immortal ? And shall spirit die ? 
 
 Above the nobler, shall less noble rise ? 
 
 Shall man alone, for whom all else revives, 
 
 No resurrection know? Shall man alone, 
 
 Imperial man ! be sown in barren ground, 
 
 Less privileged than grain, on which he feeds ? 
 
 Is man,in whom alone is power to prize 
 The bliss of being, or with previous pain 
 Deplore its period, by the spleen of fate, 
 
 Severely doom’d Death’s single unredeem’d ? 
 
 If Nature’s revolution speaks aloud 
 In her gradation, hear her louder still. 
 
 Look Nature through—’tis neat gradation all. 
 
 By what minute degrees her scale ascends ! 
 
 Each middle nature join’d at each extreme— 
 
 To that above it join’d, to that beneath. 
 
 Parts into parts reciprocally shot, 
 
 Abhor divorce. What love of union reigns ! 
 
 Here, dormant matter waits a call to life ; 
 
 Half-life, half-death, join there ; here, life and sense 
 There, sense from reason steals a glimmering ray: 
 Reason shines out in man. But how preserved 
 The chain unbroken upward, to the realms 
 Of incorporeal life ? those realms of bliss 
 Where death hath no dominion ? Grant a make 
 Half-mortal, half-immortal—earthy, part— 
 
 And part ethereal; grant the soul of man 
 Eternal: or in man the series ends. 
 
 Wide yawns the gap ; connection is no more ; 
 Check’d Reason halts ; her next step wants support 
 Striving to climb, she tumbles from her scheme; 
 
 A scheme Analogy pronounced so true ! 
 
 Analogy, man’s surest guide below.— Young. 
 
 1969. IMMORTALITY. Longing for 
 
 Away with death—away 
 With all her sluggish sleeps and chilling damps. 
 Impervious to the day, 
 
 Where nature sinks into inanity. 
 
 How can the soul desire 
 Such hateful nothingness to crave, 
 
 And yield with joy the vital fire 
 To moulder in the grave ! 
 
 Yet mortal life is sad, 
 
 Eternal storms molest its sullen sky; 
 
 And sorrows ever rife 
 Drain the sacred fountain dry— 
 
 Away with mortal life l 
 
IMMORTALITY 
 
 IMMORTALITY 
 
 381 
 
 But hail the calm reality, 
 
 The seraph immortality ! 
 
 Hail the heavenly bowers of peace, 
 
 Where all the storms of passion cease. 
 
 Wild life’s dismaying struggle o’er, 
 
 The wearied spirit weeps no more ; 
 
 But wears the eternal smile of joy, 
 
 Tasting bliss without alloy. 
 
 Welcome, welcome, happy bowers, 
 
 Where no passing tempest lowers ; 
 
 But the azure heavens display 
 The everlasting smile of day ; 
 
 Where the choral seraph choir 
 Strike to praise the harmonious lyre ; 
 
 And the spirit sinks to ease, 
 
 Lull’d by distant symphonies. 
 
 Oh ! to think of meeting there 
 
 The friends whose graves received our tear, 
 
 The daughter loved, the wife adored, 
 
 To our widow’d arms restored ; 
 
 And all the joys which death did sever, 
 
 Given to us again for ever ! 
 
 Who would cling to wretched life, 
 
 And hug the poison’d thorn of strife : 
 
 Who would not long from earth to fly, 
 
 A sluggish senseless lump to lie, 
 
 When the glorious prospect lies 
 
 Full before his raptured eyes?— H. K. White. 
 
 1970. IMMORTALITY. Mystery of 
 
 Still seems it strange that thou shouldst li\e foi 
 ever? 
 
 Is it less strange that thou shouldst live at all. 
 
 This is a miracle, and that no more. 
 
 Who gave beginning, can exclude an end. 
 
 Deny thou art—then, doubt if thou shalt be^ 
 
 A miracle with miracles enclosed, 
 
 Is man 5 and starts his faith at what is strange ? 
 What, less than wonders, from the Wonderful ? 
 What, less than miracles, from God can flow ? 
 Admit a God (that mystery supreme ! 
 
 That cause uncaused !), all other wonders cease. 
 Nothing is marvellous for Him to do ! 
 
 S Deny Him.all is mystery besides ! 
 
 Millions of mysteries ! each darker far 
 Than that thy wisdom would, unwisely, shun. 
 
 If weak thy faith, why choose the harder side ? 
 
 We nothing know, but what is marvellous ; 
 
 Yet what is marvellous we can’t believe.— Young. 
 
 ! 97 I. IMMORTALITY. Patrimony of 
 
 Oh what a patrimony this ! A being 
 Of such inherent strength and majesty, 
 
 Not worlds possest can raise it—worlds destroy’d 
 Can’t injure; which holds on its glorious course 
 When thine, O Nature ! ends: too blest to mourn 
 Creation’s obsequies. What treasure this ! 
 
 The monarch is a beggar to the man. 
 
 Immortal ! Ages pass’d, yet nothing gone? 
 Morn without eve ! a race without a goal! 
 Unshorten’d by progression infinite ! 
 
 Futurity for ever future ! Life 
 Beginning still, where computation ends ! 
 
 Immortal ! What can strike the sense so strong, 
 As this the soul ? It thunders to the thought ; 
 Reason amazes ; gratitude o’erwhelms ! 
 
 No more we slumber on the brink of fate ! 
 
 Roused at the sound, the exulting soul ascends 
 And breathes her native air ; an air that feeds 
 Ambitions high and fans ethereal fires ; 
 Quick-kindles all that is divine within us, 
 
 Nor leaves one loitering thought beneath the stars. 
 
 Immortal ! Were but one immortal, how 
 Would others envy ! how would thrones adore 1 
 Because ’tis common, is the blessing less ? 
 
 How this ties up the bounteous hand of Heaven ! 
 Oh vain, vain, vain, all else ! Eternity ! 
 
 A glorious and a needful refuge that, 
 
 o , 
 
 From vile imprisonment in abject views. 
 
 ’Tis immortality, ’tis that alone, 
 
 Amid life’s pains, abasements, emptiness, 
 
 The soul can comfort, elevate, and fill. 
 
 That only, and that amply, this performs ; 
 
 Lifts us above life’s pains, her joys above : 
 
 Their terror, those—and these their lustre lose ! 
 Eternity depending, covers all; 
 
 Eternity depending, all achieves ; 
 
 Sets earth at distance ; casts her into shade ; 
 Blends her distinctions ; abrogates her powers : 
 The low, the lofty, joyous and severe, 
 
 Fortune’s dread frowns and fascinating smiles, 
 Make one promiscuous and neglected heap 
 The man beneath ; if I may call him man 
 Whom immortality’s full force inspires. Young. 
 
 1972. IMMORTALITY. Progress in 
 
 I have learn’d 
 
 This doctrine from the vanishing of youth. 
 
 The pictured primer, true, is thrown aside ; 
 But its first lesson liveth in my heart. 
 
 I shall go on through all eternity. 
 
 Thank God, I only am an embryo still; 
 
 The small beginning of a glorious soul, 
 
 An atom that shall fill immensity. Coxe. 
 
 1973. IMMORTALITY. Reason for 
 
 Cato. It must be so. Plato, thou reasonest we 
 Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desne, 
 
IMM OR TA LIT Y 
 
 382 
 
 IMM OR TALITY 
 
 This longing after immortality ? 
 
 Or whence this secret dread, and inward horror. 
 
 Of falling into nought ? Why shrinks the soul 
 Back on herself, and startles at destruction ? 
 
 ’1 is the divinity that stirs within us, 
 
 Tis Heaven itself, that points out a hereafter, 
 
 And intimates eternity to man. 
 
 Eternity! thou pleasing, dreadful thought! 
 d hrough what variety of untried being, 
 
 1 hrough what new scenes and changes must we pass! 
 The wide, the unbounded prospect lies before me ; 
 But shadows, clouds, and darkness rest upon it. 
 
 Here will I hold. If there’s a Power above us 
 (And that there is, all Nature cries aloud 
 Through all her works), He must delight in virtue ; 
 And that which He delights in must be happy. 
 
 But when ? or where ? This world was made for 
 Caesar. 
 
 I’m weary of conjectures,—this must end them. 
 
 [Laying his hand on his sword. 
 Thus am I doubly arm’d : my death and life, 
 
 My bane and antidote, are both before me. 
 
 This in a moment brings me to an end ; 
 
 But this informs me I shall never die. 
 
 The soul, secured in her existence, smiles 
 At the drawn dagger, and defies its point. 
 
 The stars shall fade away, the sun himself 
 Grow dim with age, and Nature sink in years ; 
 
 But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth, 
 
 Unhurt amid the war of elements, 
 
 The wreck of matter, and the crash of worlds * 
 
 Addison. 
 
 I 974 > IMMORTALITY. Solemnity of the hope 
 of 
 
 Immortality o’ersweeps 
 All pams, all tears, all time, all fears—and peals 
 Like the eternal thunders of the deep 
 Into my ears this truth— Thou liv’st for ever ! 
 
 Byron. 
 
 I 975 * IMMORTALITY. Transition of 
 
 Nothing is dead but that which wish’d to die ; 
 
 Nothing is dead but wretchedness and pain ; 
 
 Nothing is dead but what encumber’d, gall’d, 
 
 Block’d up the pass, and barr’d from real life. 
 
 Where dwells that wish most ardent of the wise ? 
 
 Too dark the sun to see it; higher stars 
 Too low to reach it; Death, great Death alone, 
 
 O’er stars and sun triumphant, lands us there. 
 
 Nor dreadful our transition, though the mind, 
 
 An artist at creating self-alarms, 
 
 Rich in expedients for inquietude. 
 
 Is prone to paint it dreadful. Who can take 
 Death’s portrait true ? the tyrant never sat. 
 
 Our sketch all random strokes, conjecture all: 
 
 Close shuts the grave, nor tells one single tale. 
 Death, and his image rising in the brain, 
 
 Bear faint resemblance—never are alike : 
 
 Feai shakes the pencil; Fancy loves excess ; 
 
 Dark Ignorance is lavish of her shades ; 
 
 And these the formidable picture draw.— Young. 
 
 1976. IMMORTALITY. Universal testimony to 
 
 Hence spiings that universal strong desire 
 M hich all men have of immortality : 
 
 Not some few spirits unto this thought aspire, 
 
 But all men’s minds in this united b t.-^-Davies. 
 
 If then all souls, both good and bad, do teach, 
 
 W ith geneial voice, that souls can never die, 
 
 Tis not man s flattering gloss, but nature’s speech, 
 Which, like God’s oracles, can never lie. —Davies. 
 
 l 977 - IMMORTALITY. Verdict of 
 
 The witnesses are heard : the cause is o'er. 
 
 Let Conscience file the sentence in her court, 
 
 Dearer than deeds that half a realm convey/ 
 
 1 hus seal d by truth, the authentic record runs : 
 
 ‘ Know > all—know, infidels ! (unapt to know!) 
 
 ’Tis immortality your nature solves; 
 
 ’Tis immortality deciphers man, 
 
 And opens all the mysteries of his make. 
 
 \\ ithout it, half his instincts are a riddle ; 
 
 V, ithout it, all his virtues are a dream. 
 
 His very crimes attest his dignity; 
 
 His sateless thirst of pleasure, gold, and fame, 
 Declares him born for blessings infinite. 
 
 M hat less than infinite makes unabsurd 
 Passions, which all on earth but more inflames? 
 
 I ierce passions, so mismeasured to this scene, ' 
 
 Stretch’d out, like eagles’ wings, beyond our nest, 
 
 I ai, fai beyond the worth of all below, 
 
 For earth too large, presage a nobler flight, 
 
 And e\ idence our title to the skies. ’— Young. 
 
 1978. IMMORTALITY. Wonder of 
 
 To think for aye ! to breathe immortal breath, J 
 
 And know nor hope, nor fear, of ending death ; 
 
 To see the myriad worlds that round us roll 
 Wax old and perish, while the steadfast soul 
 Stands fresh and moveless in her sphere of thought; 
 
 O God Omnipotent! who in me wrought 
 This conscious world, whose ever-growing orb, 
 
 M hen the dead Past shall all in time absorb, 
 ill be but as begun,—oh, of Thine own 
 Give of the holy light that veils Thy throne, 
 
 That darkness be not mine, to take my place 
 Beyond the reach of light, a blot in space ! 
 
IMP A TIENCE 
 
 383 
 
 INCARNATION 
 
 io may this wondrous life, from sin made free, 
 
 Reflect Thy love for aye, and to Thy glory be ! 
 
 Allston. 
 
 1979. IMPATIENCE. Check to 
 
 IF we knew the woe and heartache 
 Waiting for us down the road, 
 
 If our lips could taste the wormwood, 
 
 If our backs could feel the load ; 
 
 Would we waste to-day in wishing 
 For a time that ne’er can be ? 
 
 Would we wait in such impatience 
 For our ships to come from sea ? 
 
 If we knew the baby fingers 
 
 Press’d against the window pane 
 Would be cold and stiff to-morrow— 
 
 Never trouble us again— 
 
 Would the bright eyes of our darling 
 Catch the frown upon our brow ? 
 
 Would the prints of rosy fingers 
 
 Vex us then as they do now ?— K. A. S. 
 
 1980. IMPATIENCE : unreasonable. 
 
 Of night impatient, we demand the day; 
 
 The day arrives, and for the night we pray. 
 
 Blackmore. 
 
 1981. IMPRISONMENT : ceases at death. 
 
 Death is the pledge of rest, and with one bail, 
 Two prisons quits; the body and the jail.— King. 
 
 1982. IMPRISONMENT. Joyous 
 
 A LITTLE bird I am, 
 
 Shut from the fields of air ; 
 
 And in my cage I sit and sing 
 To Him who placed me there; 
 
 Well pleased a prisoner to be, 
 
 Because, my God, it pleases Thee. 
 
 Nought have I else to do ; 
 
 I sing the whole day long ; 
 
 And He, whom most I love to please, 
 
 Doth listen to my song ; 
 
 b He caught and bound my wandering wing, 
 
 But still He bends to hear me sing. 
 
 My cage confines me round ; 
 
 Abroad I cannot fly ; 
 
 But, though my wing is closely bound, 
 
 My heart’s at liberty, 
 
 My prison walls cannot control 
 The flight, the freedom of the soul. 
 
 Oh ! it is good to soar, 
 
 These bolts and bars above, 
 
 To Him whose purpose I adore, 
 
 Whose providence I love; 
 
 And in Thy mighty Will to find 
 The joy, the freedom of the mind. 
 
 Madeline Guy on, tr. by Thomas C. Upham. 
 
 1983. IMPRISONMENT : not to be feared. 
 
 Let them fear bondage who are slaves to fear ; 
 The sweetest freedom is an honest heart. Ford. 
 
 1984. IMPRISONMENT : the common lot. 
 
 Why should we murmur to be circumscribed. 
 
 As if it were a new thing to wear fetters ? 
 
 When the whole world was meant but to confine us ; 
 Wherein, who walks from one clime to another. 
 Hath but a greater freedom of the prison : 
 
 Our soul was the first captive, born to inherit 
 But her own chains ; nor can it be discharged, 
 
 Till nature tire with its own weight, and then 
 We are but more undone, to be at liberty.— Shirley. 
 
 Captivity 
 
 Is the inheritance of all things finite ; 
 
 Nor can we boast our liberty, though we 
 Are not restrain’d by strong-holds ; when as 
 The neighb’ring air confines us, and each man 
 Is thraldom’s perfect emblem : for in all, 
 
 The soul is captive, and the body’s thrall. 
 
 Marriage Broker. 
 
 1985. INCARNATION. Wonders of the 
 
 Oh, how wondrous is the story 
 Of our blest Redeemer’s birth ! 
 
 See, the mighty Lord of glory 
 Leaves His heaven to visit earth. 
 
 If some prophet had been sent 
 With salvation’s joyful news, 
 
 Who that heard the blest event 
 Could their warmest love refuse ? 
 
 But ’twas He to whom in heaven 
 Hallelujahs never cease ; 
 
 Fie, the mighty God, was given— 
 
 Given to us—a Prince of peace. 
 
 None but He who did create us 
 Could redeem from sin and hell; 
 
 None but He could reinstate us 
 In the rank from which we fell. 
 
 Had He come, the glorious Stranger, 
 
 Deck’d with all the world calls great; 
 
 Had He lived in pomp and grandeur, 
 
 Crown’d with more than royal state— 
 
INCOMPLE TEN ESS 
 
 384 
 
 INCONSTANCY 
 
 Still our tongues, with praise o’erflowing, 
 
 On such boundless love would dwell; 
 
 Still our hearts, with rapture glowing, 
 
 Feel what words could never tell. 
 
 But what wonder should it raise, 
 
 Thus our lowest state to borrow ! 
 
 Oh, the high mysterious ways— 
 
 God’s own Son a child of sorrow ! 
 
 ’Twas to bring us endless pleasure 
 He our suffering nature bore ; 
 
 ’Twas to give us heavenly treasure 
 
 He was willing to be poor.— Hannah More . 
 
 19S6. INCOMPLETENESS. Law of 
 
 Deal gently with us, ye who read ! 
 
 Our largest hope is unfulfill’d— 
 
 The promise still outruns the deed— 
 
 The tower, but not the spire, we build. 
 
 Our whitest pearl we never find ; 
 
 Our ripest fruit we never reach ; 
 
 The flowering moments of the mind 
 Drop half their petals in our speech. 
 
 Holmes. 
 
 1987. INCOMPREHENSIBLE. Struggle for 
 the 
 
 In mind, in matter, much was difficult 
 To understand : but what in deepest night 
 Retired, inscrutable, mysterious, dark, 
 
 Was evil; God’s decrees ; and deeds decreed, 
 Responsible. Why God, the just and good, 
 Omnipotent and wise, should suffer sin 
 To rise. Why man was free, accountable ; 
 
 Yet God foreseeing, overruling all, 
 
 Where’er the eye could turn, whatever track 
 Of moral thought it took, by reason’s torch, 
 
 Or Scripture’s led, before it still this mount 
 Sprung up, impervious, insurmountable, 
 
 Above the human stature rising far ; 
 
 Horizon of the mind—surrounding still 
 The vision of the soul with clouds and gloom. 
 
 Yet did they not attempt to scale its sides, 
 
 And gain its top. Philosophy, to climb, 
 
 With all her vigour toil’d from age to age : 
 
 From age to age, Theology, with all 
 
 Her vigour, toil’d ; and vagrant Fancy toil’d. 
 
 Not weak and foolish only, but the wise, 
 
 Patient, courageous, stout, sound-headed man 
 Of proper discipline, of excellent wind, 
 
 And strong of intellectual limb, toil'd hard, 
 
 And oft above the reach of common eye 
 Ascended far, and seem’d well-nigh the top: 
 
 But only seem’d ; for still another top 
 
 Above them rose, till giddy grown, and mad, 
 
 With gazing at these dangerous heights of God, 
 They tumbled down, and in their raving said, 
 
 They o’er the summit saw : and some believed ; 
 Believed a lie ; for never man on earth 
 That mountain cross’d, or saw its farther side. 
 Around it lay the wreck of many a Sage, 
 
 Divine, Philosopher ; and many more 
 Fell daily, undeterr’d by millions fallen; 
 
 Each wondering why he fail’d to comprehend 
 God, and with finite measure infinite. 
 
 To pass it, was no doubt desirable ; 
 
 And few of any intellectual size 
 
 That did not sometime in their day attempt; 
 
 But all in vain : for as the distant hill, 
 j Which on the right, or left, the traveller’s eye 
 i Bounds, seems advancing as he walks, and oft 
 He looks, and looks, and thinks to pass ; but still 
 It forward moves, and mocks his baffled sight, 
 
 Till night descends and wraps the scene in gloom, 
 So did this moral height the vision mock ; 
 
 So lifted up its dark and cloudy head, 
 
 Before the eye, and met it evermore. 
 
 I 
 
 And some, provoked, accused the righteous God ! 
 Accused of what ? hear human boldness now ; 
 
 Hear guilt, hear folly, madness, all extreme ! 
 Accused of what ? the God of truth accused 
 Of cruelty, injustice, wickedness ! 
 
 Abundant sin! Because a mortal man, 
 
 A worm at best of small capacity, 
 
 With scarce an atom of Jehovah’s works 
 Before him, and with scarce an hour to look 
 Upon them, should presume to censure God— 
 
 The infinite and uncreated God! 
 
 To sit in judgment—on Himself, His works, 
 
 His providence ! and try, accuse, condemn ! 
 
 If there is aught, thought or to think, absurd, 
 Irrational, and wicked, this is more— 
 
 This most; the sin of devils, or of those 
 To devils growing fast: wise men and good, 
 Accused themselves, not God ; and put their hands 
 Upon their mouths and in the dust adored.— Pollok. 
 
 1988. INCONSTANCY. Human 
 
 Oh what a thing is man! how far from power, 
 From settled peace and rest! 
 
 He is some twenty several men at least 
 Each several hour. 
 
 He builds a house, which quickly down must go, 
 As if a whirlwind blew 
 
 And crush’d the building: and ’tis partly true, 
 
 His mind is so. 
 
 Oh what a sight is man, if his attires 
 Did alter with his mind ; 
 
INDEPENDENCE 
 
 385 
 
 INDUSTRY 
 
 And like a dolphin's skin, his clothes combined 
 
 With his desires! — Herbert. 
 
 1989. INDEPENDENCE. 
 
 Hail ! Independence, hail! Heaven’s next best gift, 
 To that of life and an immortal soul! 
 
 The life of life, that to the banquet high 
 And sober meal gives taste ; to the bow’d roof 
 Fair-dream’d repose, and to the cottage charms. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 Hail! Independence—by true reason taught, 
 
 How few have known and prized thee as they ought! 
 Some give thee up for riot; some, like boys, 
 
 Resign thee, in their childish moods, for toys ; 
 Ambition some, some Avarice misleads, 
 
 And, in both cases, Independence bleeds. 
 
 Churchill. 
 
 I praise you much, ye meek and patient pair, 
 For ye are worthy ! choosing rather far 
 A dry but independent crust, hard earn’d 
 And eaten with a sigh, than to endure 
 The rugged frowns and insolent rebuffs 
 Of knaves in office. — Cozuper. 
 
 1990. INDOLENCE. Awaking from 
 
 I WASTE no more in idle dreams 
 My life, my soul away ; 
 
 I wake to know my better self— 
 
 I wake to watch and pray. 
 
 Thought, feeling, time, on idols vain, 
 
 I’ve lavish’d all too long: 
 
 Henceforth to holier purposes 
 I pledge myself, my song! 
 
 I shut mine eyes in grief and shame 
 Upon the dreary past— 
 
 My heart, my soul pour’d recklessly 
 On dreams that could not last: 
 
 My bark was drifted down the stream, 
 
 At will of wind or wave— 
 
 An idle, light, and fragile thing, 
 
 That few had cared to save. 
 
 Henceforth the tiller Truth shall hold, 
 
 And steer as conscience tells, 
 
 And I will brave the storms of fate, 
 
 Though wild the ocean swells. 
 
 I know my soul is strong and high, 
 
 If once I give it sway : 
 
 I feel a glorious power within, 
 
 Though light I seem and gay. 
 
 Oh, laggard soul! unclose thine eyes— 
 
 No more in luxury soft 
 
 Of joy ideal waste thyself: 
 
 Awake and soar aloft! 
 
 Unfurl this hour those falcon wings 
 Which thou dost fold too long ; 
 
 Raise to the skies thy lightning gaze, 
 
 And sing thy loftiest song !— Osgood. 
 
 1991. INDOLENCE. Victim of 
 
 Not all at once 
 
 He yielded to the soothing voice of sleep ; 
 
 But having seen a bough of laurel wave, 
 
 He effort made to climb ; and friends, and even 
 Himself, talk’d of his greatness, as at hand, 
 
 And prophesying drew his future life. 
 
 Vain prophecy! his fancy, taught by sloth, 
 
 Saw in the very threshold of pursuit 
 A thousand obstacles ; he halted first, 
 
 And while he halted, saw his burning hopes 
 Grow dim and dimmer still: Ambition’s self, 
 
 The advocate of loudest tongue, decay’d ; 
 
 His purposes, made daily, daily broken, 
 
 Like plant uprooted oft, and set again, 
 
 More sickly grew, and daily waver’d more: 
 
 Till at the last, decision, quite worn out, 
 
 Decision, fulcrum of the mental powers, 
 
 Resign’d the blasted soul to staggering chance; 
 
 Sleep gather’d fast, and weigh’d him downward still; 
 His eye fell heavy from the mount of fame ; 
 
 His young resolves to benefit the world 
 Perish’d, and were forgotten ; he shut his ear 
 Against the painful news of rising worth ; 
 
 And drank with desperate thirst the poppy’s juice ; 
 A deep and mortal slumber settled down 
 Upon his weary faculties oppress’d ; 
 
 He roll’d from side to side, and roll’d again ; 
 
 And snored, and groan’d, and wither’d, and expired, 
 And rotted on the spot, leaving no name.— Pollole. 
 
 1992. INDUSTRY. Benefit of 
 
 Ho, all who labour, all who strive ! 
 
 Ye wield a lofty power ; 
 
 Do with your might, do with your strength, 
 
 Fill every golden hour ! 
 
 The glorious privilege to do 
 Is man’s most noble dower. 
 
 Oh, to your birthright and yourselves, 
 
 To your own souls be true! 
 
 A weary, wretched life is theirs 
 Who have no work to do.— Orne. 
 
 1993. INDUSTRY : essential to prosperity. 
 
 If little labour, little are our gains: 
 
 Man’s fortunes are according to his pains. 
 
 Ilerrick, 
 
 25 
 
INDUSTRY 
 
 386 
 
 INDUSTRY 
 
 To be rich, be diligent ; move on 
 Like Heaven’s great movers that enrich the earth ; 
 Whose moment’s sloth would show the world undone; 
 And make the spring straight bury all her birth. 
 Rich are the diligent who can command 
 Time—nature’s stock. — Davenant. 
 
 1994. INDUSTRY. Female 
 
 Behold! 
 
 The ruddy damsel singeth at the wheel, 
 
 While by her side the rustic lover sits. 
 
 Perchance his shrewd eye secretly doth count 
 The mass of skeins, which, hanging on the wall, 
 Increaseth day by day. Perchance his thoughts, 
 (For men have deeper minds than women—sure !) 
 Is calculating what a thrifty wife 
 The maid will make. — Mrs Sigourney. 
 
 She was knowing in all needlework, 
 
 And shone in dairy and in kitchen too, 
 
 As in the parlour.— Barker. 
 
 1995. INDUSTRY. Incentives to 
 
 Toil, and be glad ! let Industry inspire 
 Into your quicken’d limbs her buoyant breath! 
 
 Who does not act is dead : absorb’d entire 
 In miry sloth, no pride, no joy he hath ; 
 
 O leaden-hearted men, to be in love with death! 
 
 Ah ! what avail the largest gifts of Heaven, 
 
 When drooping health and spirits go amiss! 
 
 How tasteless then whatever can be given! 
 
 Health is the vital principle of bliss, 
 
 And exercise of health. In proof of this, 
 
 Behold the wretch who slugs his life away, 
 
 Soon swallow’d in Disease’s sad abyss, 
 
 While he whom Toil has braced, or manly play, 
 
 Has light as air each limb, each thought as clear as 
 day. 
 
 Oh who can speak the vigorous joys of health ! 
 Unclogg’d the body, unobscured the mind ; 
 
 > The morning rises gay, with pleasing stealth 
 The temperate evening falls serene and kind. 
 
 In health the wiser brutes true gladness find, 
 
 See ! how the younglings frisk along the meads, 
 
 As May comes on and wakes the balmy wind ; 
 Rampant with life, their joy all joy exceeds. 
 
 Come, follow me ; I will direct you right, 
 
 Where Pleasure’s roses, void of serpents, grow, 
 Sincere as sweet: come, follow this good Knight, 
 And you will bless the day that brought him to your 
 sight. 
 
 Some he will lead to courts, and some to camps, 
 
 To senates some, and public sage debates, 
 
 Where, by the solemn gleam of midnight lamps, 
 The world is poised, and managed mighty states ; 
 
 To high discovery some, that new creates 
 The face of earth ; some to the thriving mart; 
 
 Some to the rural reign and softer fates ; 
 
 To the sweet Muses some, who raise the heart: 
 
 All glory shall be yours, all Nature, and all Art. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 1996. INDUSTRY. Motives for 
 
 Death worketh, 
 
 Let me work too ; 
 
 Death undoeth, 
 
 Let me do. 
 
 Busy as death my work I ply, 
 
 Till I rest in the rest of eternity. 
 
 Time worketh, 
 
 Let me work too ; 
 
 Time undoeth, 
 
 Let me do. 
 
 Busy as time my work I ply, 
 
 Till I rest in the rest of eternity. 
 
 Sin worketh, 
 
 Let me work too ; 
 
 Sin undoeth, 
 
 Let me do. 
 
 Busy as sin my work I ply, 
 
 Till I rest in the rest of eternity.— Bonar. 
 
 1997. INDUSTRY. Peace of 
 
 Still hope ! still act! Be sure that life, 
 
 The source and strength of every good, 
 Wastes down in feeling’s empty strife, 
 
 And dies in dreaming’s sickly mood. 
 
 To toil, in tasks however mean, 
 
 For all we know of right and true— 
 
 In this alone our worth is seen; 
 
 ’Tis this we were ordain’d to do. 
 
 So shalt thou find in work and thought 
 The peace that sorrow cannot give ; 
 
 Though grief s worst pangs to thee be taught, 
 By thee let others nobler live. 
 
 Thou wilt have angels near above, 
 
 By whom invisible aid is given ; 
 
 They journey still on tasks of love, 
 
 And never rest, except in heaven.— Sterling. 
 
 1998. INDUSTRY. Rewards of 
 
 Shortly his fortune shall be lifted higher; 
 True industry doth kindle honour’s fire. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
INDUSTRY 
 
 3 87 
 
 INFANTS 
 
 1999. INDUSTRY: should not be excessive. 
 
 Let not the poor 
 
 Be forced to grind the bones out of their arms 
 For bread, but have some space to think and feel 
 Like moral and immortal creatures.— Bailey. 
 
 2000. INDUSTRY. Victories of 
 
 Industrious wisdom often does prevent 
 What lazy folly thinks inevitable. 
 
 2001. INDUSTRY. Works of 
 
 Now sober Industry, illustrious power ! 
 
 Hath raised the peaceful cottage, calm abode 
 Of innocence and joy ; now, sweating, guides 
 The shining ploughshare, tames the stubborn soil; 
 Leads the long drain along the unfertile marsh : 
 
 Bids the bleak hill with vernal verdure bloom, 
 
 The haunt of flocks, and clothes the barren heath 
 With waving harvests and the golden grain. Bruce. 
 
 2002. INEBRIETY. (See Drunkenness, Intem¬ 
 
 perance.) 
 
 I drank ; I liked it not; ’twas rage, ’twas noise, 
 
 An airy scene of transitory joys. 
 
 In vain I trusted that the flowing bowl 
 Would banish sorrow, and enlarge the soul. 
 
 To the late revel and protracted feast 
 
 Wild dreams succeeded, and disorder’d rest.— Prior. 
 
 Unhappy man ! whom sorrow thus and rage 
 To different ills alternately engage ; 
 
 Who drinks, alas ! but to forget; nor sees 
 That melancholy sloth, severe disease, 
 
 Memory confused, and interrupted thought, 
 
 Death’s harbinger, lie latent in the draught; 
 
 And, in the flowers that wreathe the sparkling bowl, 
 Fell adders hiss, and poisonous serpents roll.— Prior. 
 
 2003. INFAMY. 
 
 What grief can be, but time doth make it less ? 
 
 But infamy, time never can suppress.— Drayton. 
 
 " Shame ever sticks close to the ribs of honour ; 
 
 Great men are never sound men after it. 
 
 It leaves some ache or other in their names still, 
 Which their posterity feels at every weather. 
 
 Middleton. 
 
 2004. INFANCY. Death in 
 
 In due observance of an ancient rite, 
 
 The rude Biscayans, when their children lie 
 Dead in the sinless time of infancy, 
 
 Attire the peaceful corse in vestments white ; 
 
 And, in like sign of cloudless triumph bright, 
 
 They bind the unoffending creature’s brows 
 With happy garlands of the pure white rose : 
 
 Then do a festal company unite 
 
 In choral song ; and, while the uplifted cross 
 
 Of Jesus goes before, the child is borne 
 
 Uncover’d to his grave : ’tis closed—her loss 
 
 The mother then mourns, as she needs must mourn ; 
 
 But soon, through Christian faith, is grief subdued ; 
 
 And joy returns, to brighten fortitude.— Wordszuorth. 
 
 2005. INFANT. Gift of an 
 
 With what unknown delight the mother smiled 
 When this frail treasure in her arms she press’d : 
 Her prayer was heard—she clasp’d a living child ; 
 
 But how the gift transcends the poor request! 
 
 A child was all she ask’d, with many a vow : 
 
 Mother—behold the child an angel now ! 
 
 Now in her Father’s house she finds a place ; 
 
 Or if to earth she takes a transient flight, 
 
 ’Tis to fulfil the purpose of His grace, 
 
 To guide thy footsteps to the world of light; 
 
 A ministering spirit sent to thee, 
 
 That where she is, there thou may’st also be. 
 
 Jane Taylor. 
 
 2006. INFANTS. Future life of 
 
 A babe in glory is a babe for ever : 
 
 Perfect as spirits, and able to pour forth 
 Their glad heart in the tongues which angels use, 
 These nurslings, gather’d in God’s nursery, 
 
 For ever grow in loveliness and love 
 (Growth is the law of all intelligence), 
 
 Yet cannot pass the limit which defines 
 Their being. They have never fought the fight, 
 
 Nor borne the heat and burden of the day, 
 
 Nor stagger’d underneath the weary cross : 
 
 Conceived in sin, they sinn’d not ; though they died, 
 They never shudder’d with the fear of death : 
 
 These things they know not, and can never know. 
 Yet fallen children of a fallen race, 
 
 And early to transgression, like the rest, 
 
 Sure victims, they were bought with Jesus’ blood, 
 And cleansed by Jesus’ Spirit, and redeem’d 
 By His Omnipotent arm from death and hell : 
 
 A link betwixt mankind and angelhood : 
 
 As born of woman, sharers with all saints 
 In that great ransom paid upon the cross : 
 
 In purity and inexperience 
 
 Of guilt akin to angels. Infancy 
 
 Is one thing, manhood one. And babes, though part 
 
 Of the true archetypal house of God 
 
 Built on the heavenly Zion, are not now, 
 
 Nor will be ever, massive rocks rough-hewn, 
 
 Or ponderous corner-stones, or fluted shafts 
 
INFANTS 
 
 388 
 
 INFLUENCE 
 
 Of columns, or far-shadowing pinnacles ; 
 
 But rather as the delicate lily-work 
 By Hiram wrought for Solomon of old, 
 
 Enwreathed upon the brazen chapiters, 
 
 Or flowers of lilies round the molten sea. 
 Innumerable flowers thus bloom and blush 
 In heaven. Nor reckon God’s designs in them 
 Frustrate, or shorn of full accomplishment : 
 
 The lily is as perfect as the oak ; 
 
 The myrtle is as fragrant as the palm ; 
 
 And Sharon’s roses are as beautiful 
 As Lebanon’s majestic cedar crown.— Bickersteth. 
 
 2007. INFANTS. Mourning for 
 
 Weep not for them ! it is no cause of sorrow 
 That theirs was no long pathway to the tomb ; 
 They had one bright to-day, no sad to-morrow 
 Rising in hope, and darkening into gloom. 
 
 Weep not for them ! Give tears unto the living ! 
 
 Oh waste no vain regret on lot like theirs ! 
 
 But rather make it reason for thanksgiving, 
 
 That ye have nurtured angels unawares. 
 
 2008. INFIDELITY. Guilt of 
 
 ‘ There is a God,’ all nature cries, 
 
 All knowledge proves ‘ there is a God: ’ 
 
 ‘ There is no God,’ the fool replies, 
 
 Whose heart is duller than the clod. 
 
 The grateful clod, refresh’d with rains, 
 
 Pours flowers along its Maker’s path ; 
 
 But the fool’s heart a fool’s remains, 
 
 Untouch’d by love, unmoved by wrath. 
 
 And yet the wretch himself deceives ; 
 
 While fiends believe and trembling fly, 
 
 He trembles though he disbelieves ; 
 
 And conscience gives his life the lie. 
 
 James Montgomery. 
 
 2009. INFIDELS. Rebuke of 
 
 The solemn mountain lifts its head, the Almighty to 
 proclaim, 
 
 The brooklet from its crystal bed doth leap to greet 
 His name ; 
 
 High swells the deep and fitful sea upon its billowy 
 track, 
 
 And red Vesuvius opes its mouth to hurl the false¬ 
 hood back. 
 
 ‘ No God ! ’ With indignation high, yon fervent sun 
 is stirr’d, 
 
 And the pale moon turns paler still, at such an im¬ 
 pious word ; 
 
 And from their thrones in heaven the stars look down 
 with angry eye, 
 
 That man, a worm of dust, should mock eternal 
 majesty. 
 
 2010. INFLUENCE. Double 
 
 The bird that to the evening sings 
 
 Leaves music when her song is ended ; 
 
 A sweetness left, which takes not wings, 
 
 But with each pulse of eve is blended : 
 
 Thus life involves a double light, 
 
 Our acts and words have many brothers ; 
 
 The heart that makes its own delight, 
 
 Makes also a delight for others. 
 
 The owls that hoot from midnight tower 
 Shed gloom and discord ere they leave it; 
 
 And sweetness closes, like a flower 
 
 That shuts itself, from tones that grieve it: 
 
 Thus life involves a double joy, 
 
 Or double gloom, for each hath brothers; 
 
 The heart that makes its own annoy, 
 
 Makes also an annoy for others.— Charles Swain. 
 
 2011. INFLUENCE. Good 
 
 Sow on in faith ! 
 
 Sow the good seed ! another after thee 
 Shall reap. Hast thou not garner’d many fruits 
 Of others’ sowing, whom thou knowest not ? 
 
 Canst tell how many struggles, sufferings, tears. 
 All unrecorded, unremember’d all, 
 
 Have gone to build up what thou hast of good ? 
 
 2012. INFLUENCE : immortal. 
 
 The pure, the bright, the beautiful, 
 
 That stirr’d our hearts in youth ; 
 
 The impulse of a worldless prayer, 
 
 The dream of love and truth, 
 
 The longings after something lost, 
 
 The spirit’s yearning cry, 
 
 The strivings after better hopes : 
 
 These things shall never die. 
 
 The timely hand stretch’d forth to aid 
 A brother in his need, 
 
 The kindly word in griefs dark hour 
 That proves the friend indeed, 
 
 The plea of mercy softly breathed 
 When justice threatens nigh, 
 
 The sorrow of a contrite heart: 
 
 These things can never die. 
 
 The memory of a clasping hand, 
 
 The pressure of a kiss, * 
 
INFLUENCE 
 
 389 
 
 INGE A TITUDE 
 
 And all the trifles, sweet and frail. 
 
 That make up love’s first bliss. 
 
 If with a firm, unchanging faith, 
 
 And holy trust and high, 
 
 Those hands have clasp’d, those lips have met; 
 These things shall never die. 
 
 The cruel and the bitter word 
 That wounded as it fell, 
 
 The chilling want of sympathy 
 We feel but never tell; 
 
 The hard repulse that chills the heart 
 Whose hopes were bounding high ; 
 
 In an unfading record kept, 
 
 These things shall never die. 
 
 Let nothing pass, for every hand 
 Must find some work to do ; 
 
 Lose not a chance to waken love—- 
 Be firm, and just, and true ; 
 
 So shall a light that cannot fade 
 Beam on thee from on high, 
 
 And angel voices say to thee, 
 
 These things shall never die.— Dickens. 
 
 2013. INFLUENCE. Lesson of 
 
 Drop follows drop, and swells 
 With rain the sweeping river ; 
 
 Word follows word, and tells 
 A truth that lives for ever. 
 
 Flake follows flake, like spirits 
 Whose wings the winds dissever ; 
 
 Thought follows thought, and lights 
 The realm of mind for ever. 
 
 Beam follows beam, to cheer 
 
 The cloud the bolt would shiver; 
 
 Throb follows throb, and fear 
 Gives place to joy for ever. 
 
 The drop, the flake, the beam, 
 
 Teach us a lesson ever ; 
 
 The word, the thought, the dream. 
 
 Impress the soul for ever. 
 
 2014. INFLUENCE. Perpetuity of 
 
 Nothing fails of its end. Out of sight sinks the 
 
 stone 
 
 In the deep sea of time, but the circles sweep on, 
 
 Till the low-rippled murmurs along the shores run, 
 And the dark and dead waters leap glad in the sun. 
 
 Whittier. 
 
 2015. INFLUENCE. Power of 
 
 Our many deeds, the thoughts that we have thought. 
 They go out from us thronging every hour; 
 
 And in'them all is folded up a power 
 
 That on the earth doth move them to and fro ; 
 
 And mighty are the marvels they have wrought 
 In hearts we know not, and may never know. 
 
 Faber. 
 
 2016. INFLUENCE. Responsibility of 
 
 The smallest bark on life’s tumultuous ocean 
 Will leave a track behind for evermore ; 
 
 The lightest wave of influence, set in motion, 
 Extends and widens to the eternal shore : 
 
 We should be wary, then, who go before 
 A myriad yet to be ; and we should take 
 Our bearing carefully, where breakers roar, 
 
 And fearful tempests gather ; one mistake 
 May wreck unnumber’d barks that follow in our 
 wake. — Mrs Bolton. 
 
 2017. INFLUENCE. Saintly 
 
 When one that holds communion with the skies 
 Has fill’d his urn where those pure waters rise, 
 
 And once moi-e mingles with us meaner things, 
 
 ’Tis e’en as if an angel shook his wings ; 
 
 Immortal fragrance fills the circuit wide, 
 
 That tells us whence these treasures are supplied. 
 
 Cowpcr. 
 
 2018. INFLUENCE. Unconscious 
 
 We scatter seeds with careless hand, 
 
 And dream we ne’er shall see them more ; 
 
 But for a thousand years 
 Their fruit appears, 
 
 In weeds that mar the land, 
 
 Or healthful store. 
 
 The deeds we do, the words we say— 
 
 Into still air they seem to fleet, 
 
 We count them ever past ; 
 
 But they shall last— 
 
 In the dread judgment they 
 And we shall meet! 
 
 I charge thee by the years gone by, 
 
 For the love’s sake of brethren dear, 
 
 Keep thou the one true way, 
 
 In work and play, 
 
 Lest in that world their cry 
 Of woe thou hear.— Keble. 
 
 2019. INGRATITUDE: a mark of a vicious 
 
 nature. 
 
 For vicious natures, when they once begin 
 To take distaste, and purpose no requital, 
 
 The greater debt they owe, the more they hate. 
 
 May. 
 
INGRATITUDE 
 
 39 ° 
 
 ingratitude 
 
 2020. INGRATITUDE : base. 
 
 The stall-fed ox, that is grown fat, will know 
 His careful feeder, and acknowledge too ; 
 
 The generous spaniel loves his master’s eye, 
 
 And licks his fingers though no meat be by : 
 
 But man, ungrateful man, that’s born and bred 
 By Heaven’s immediate power; maintain’d and fed 
 By His providing hand ; observed, attended, 
 
 By His indulgent grace ; preserved, defended, 
 
 By His prevailing arm : this man, I say, 
 
 Is more ungrateful, more obdure than they. 
 
 Man, oh most ungrateful man, can ever 
 Enjoy Thy gift, but never mind the Giver; 
 
 And like the swine, though pamper’d with enough, 
 His eyes are never higher than the trough.— Quarles. 
 
 2021. INGRATITUDE: brutal. 
 
 The wretch whom gratitude once fails to bind, 
 
 To truth or honour let him lay no claim ; 
 
 But stand confess’d the brute disguised in man. 
 
 Erowde. 
 
 2022. INGRATITUDE : common. 
 
 On adamant our wrongs we all engrave, 
 
 But write our benefits upon the wave.— King. 
 
 He that doth public good for multitudes 
 Finds few are truly grateful.— A.larston. 
 
 2023. INGRATITUDE. Filial 
 
 Ingratitude ! thou marble-hearted fiend; 
 
 More hideous when thou show’st thee in a child, 
 Than the sea-monster.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Filial ingratitude, 
 
 Is it not as the mouth should tear the hand 
 For lifting food to’t ?— Shakespeare. 
 
 2024. INGRATITUDE. Human 
 
 We find the fiercest things that live, 
 
 The savage born, the wildly rude, 
 
 When soothed by Mercy’s hand, will give 
 Some faint response of gratitude. 
 
 But man !—oh! blush, ye lordly race !— 
 
 Shrink back, and question thy proud heart! 
 
 Do ye not lack that thankful grace 
 Which ever forms the soul’s best part ? 
 
 Will ye not take the blessings given, 
 
 The priceless boon of ruddy health, 
 
 The sleep unbroken, peace unriven, 
 
 The cup of joy, the mine of wealth— 
 
 Will ye not take them all, and yet 
 W alk fi om the cradle to the grave, 
 
 Enjoying, boasting, and forget 
 To think upon the God that gave ? 
 
 Thou’lt even kneel to blood-stain’d kings, 
 
 Nor fear to have thy serfdom known ; 
 
 Thy knee will bend for bauble things, 
 
 ^ et fail to seek its Maker’s throne. 
 
 Eliza Cook. 
 
 2025. INGRATITUDE. Monster of 
 
 / _ 
 
 Time hath a wallet at his back 
 Wherein he puts alms for Oblivion, 
 
 A great-sized monster of ingratitudes : 
 
 Those scraps are good deeds past; which are devour’d 
 As fast as they are made, forgot as soon 
 As done.— Shakespeare . 
 
 Ingratitude is a monster— 
 
 To be strangled in the birth; not to be cherish’d. 
 
 Massinger. 
 
 2026. INGRATITUDE. Painfulness of 
 
 She hath tied 
 
 Sharp-tooth’d Unkindness, like a vulture, here. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 This was the most unkindest cut of all; 
 
 For when the noble Caesar saw him stab, 
 
 Ingratitude, more strong than traitor’s arms, 
 
 Quite vanquish’d him : then burst his mighty heart; 
 And, in his mantle muffling up his face, 
 
 Even at the base of Pompey’s statue, 
 
 Which all the while ran blood, great Ceesar fell. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 2027. INGRATITUDE : punished. 
 
 I have been base ; 
 
 Base even to him from whom I did receive 
 All that a son could to a father give : 
 
 Behold me punish’d in the self-same kind ; 
 
 Th’ ungrateful does a more ungrateful find. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 2028. INGRATITUDE: the worst of crimes. 
 
 I HATE ingratitude more in a man 
 
 Than lying, vainness, babbling drunkenness, 
 
 Or any taint of vice, whose strong corruption 
 Inhabits our frail blood .—Shakespeare. 
 
 If there be a crime 
 
 Of deeper dye than all the guilty train 
 Of human vices, ’ tis ingratitude.— Brooke. 
 
 He that’s ungrateful has no guilt but one ; 
 
 All other crimes may pass for virtues in him. 
 
 Young . ' 
 
INGRA TITUDE 
 
 39i 
 
 INNOCENCE 
 
 2029. INGRATITUDE : treason. 
 
 All should unite to punish the ungrateful: 
 Ingratitude is treason to mankind. Thomson. 
 
 Id 
 
 Notes of a queasy and sick stomach, laboiuing 
 With want of a true injury ! the mam part 
 Of the wrong, is our vice of taking it! Jonson. 
 
 1 
 
 2030. INGRATITUDE. Unkindness of 
 
 Blow, blow, thou winter wind; 
 
 Thou art not so unkind 
 As man’s ingratitude ; 
 
 Thy tooth is not so keen, 
 
 Because thou art not seen, 
 
 Although thy breath be rude. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 2031. INJURIES. 
 
 They that do pull down churches, and deface 
 The holiest altars, cannot hurt the Godhead. 
 
 A calm wise man may show as much true valour. 
 Amidst these popular provocations, 
 
 As can an able captain show security, 
 
 By his brave conduct through an enemy’s country. 
 
 A wise man never goes the people’s way; 
 
 But as the planets still move contrary 
 To the world’s motion, so doth he to opinion : 
 
 He will examine if those accidents 
 Which common fame calls injuries, happen to him 
 Deservedly or no? Come they deservedly ? 
 
 They are no wrongs then ; but punishments : 
 
 If undeservedly, and he not guilty ? 
 
 The doer of them first should blush—not he. 
 
 Jonson. 
 
 The purpose of an injury ’tis to vex 
 And trouble me: now nothing can do that 
 To him that’s truly valiant. He that is affected 
 With the least injury, is less than it .—Jonson. 
 
 Not Fortune’s self, 
 
 When she encounters Virtue, but comes off 
 Both lame and less. Why should a wise man then 
 Confess himself the weaker by the feeling 
 Of a fool’s wrong? There may an injuiy 
 Be meant me ; I may choose, if I will take it: 
 
 But we are now come to that delicacy 
 And tenderness of sense, we think an insolence 
 Worse than injury ; base words worse than deeds: 
 We are not so much troubled with the wrong, 
 
 As with the opinion of the wrong : like children, 
 
 We are made afraid with vizards. Such poor sounds 
 As is the lie, or common words of spite, 
 
 Wise laws thought never worthy of revenge , 
 
 2032. INNOCENCE. 
 
 Innocence shall make 
 False accusation blush, and tyranny 
 Tremble at patience. Shakespeare. 
 
 All your attempts 
 
 Shall fall on me like brittle shafts on armour, 
 
 That break themselves ; or like waves against a rock, 
 That leave no sign of their ridiculous fury 
 But foam and splinters : my innocence like these 
 Shall stand triumphant, and your malice serve 
 But for a trumpet to proclaim my conquest; 
 
 Nor shall you, though you do the worst fate can, 
 
 Howe’er condemn, affright an honest man. 
 
 Massinger. 
 
 Innocence unmoved 
 
 At a false accusation, doth the more ^ 
 Confirm itself; and guilt is best discover’d 
 By its own fears .—IS abb. 
 
 Misfortune may benight the wicked ; she 
 Who knows no guilt, can sink beneath no fear. 
 
 Ilabbington, 
 
 Only add 
 
 Deeds to thy knowledge answerable, add faith, 
 Add virtue, patience, temperance, add love, 
 
 By name to come call’d charity, the soul 
 Of all the rest; then wilt thou not be loath 
 To leave this paradise, but shalt possess 
 A paradise within thee, happier far .—Milton. 
 
 Heaven may awhile correct the virtuous, 
 
 Yet it will wipe their eyes again, and make 
 Their faces whiter with their tears. Innocence 
 Conceal’d is the stol’n pleasure of the gods, 
 
 Which never ends in shame, as that of men 
 Doth ofttimes do ; but, like the sun, breaks forth, 
 When it hath gratified another world ; 
 
 And to our unexpecting eyes appears 
 More glorious through its late obscuiity. 
 
 John Fountain. 
 
 There is no courage but in innocence, 
 
 No constancy but in an honest cause. Southern. 
 
 And ’tis the narrowness of human nature, 
 
 Our poverty and beggary of spirit, 
 
 To take exception at these things. He laugh d at 
 me ! 
 
 He broke a jest! a third took place of me. 
 
 How most ridiculous quarrels are all these ! 
 
 Oh that I had my innocence again ! 
 
 My untouch’d honour ! But I wish in vain. 
 The fleece that has been by the dyer stain’d 
 Never again its native whiteness gain’d. 
 
 Waller . 
 
 I 
 
INSANITY 
 
 392 
 
 INSTRUCTION 
 
 True conscious honour is to feel no sin ; 
 
 He s arm d without that’s innocent within : 
 
 Be this thy screen, and this thy wall of brass. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 2033. INSANITY. 
 
 Now see that noble and most sovereign reason, 
 Like sweet bells jangled out of tune, and harsh ; 
 That unmatch’d form, and feature of blown youth, 
 Blasted with ecstasy.— Shakespeare. 
 
 How pregnant, sometimes, his replies are ! 
 
 A happiness that often madness hits on, 
 
 Which sanity and reason could not be 
 So prosperously deliver’d o Shakespeare. 
 
 Great wits are sure to madness near allied, 
 
 And thin partitions do their bounds divide.— Dryden. 
 
 There is a pleasure in being mad 
 Which none but madmen know.— Dryden. 
 
 Then vainly the philosopher avers 
 
 That reason guides our deeds, and instinct theirs. 
 
 How can we justly different causes frame, 
 
 When the effects entirely are the same ? 
 
 Instinct and reason how can we divide ? 
 
 ’Tis the fool’s ignorance, and the pedant’s pride. 
 
 Prior. 
 
 Y ho taught the nations of the field and wood 
 To shun their poison and to choose their food ? 
 Prescient, the tides or tempests to withstand, 
 
 Build on the wave, or arch beneath the sand ? 
 
 Who made the spider parallels design, 
 
 Sure as De Moivre, without rule or line ? 
 
 Y ho bade the stork, Columbus-like, explore 
 Heavens not his own, and worlds unknown before ? 
 Who calls the council, states the certain day, 
 
 Y ho foi ms the phalanx, and who points the way ? 
 
 Pope. 
 
 In reason s absence fancy wakes, 
 
 Ill matching words and deeds long past or late. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 With curious art the brain, too finely wrought, 
 Preys on itself, and is destroy’d by thought ; 
 Constant attention wears the active mind, 
 
 Blots out her powers, and leaves a blank behind. 
 
 Churchill. 
 Of lunacy 
 
 Innumerous were the causes : humbled pride, 
 Ambition disappointed, riches lost, 
 
 And bodily disease, and sorrow, oft 
 By man inflicted on his brother man ; 
 
 Sorrow that made the reason drunk, and yet 
 Left much untasted—so the cup was fill'd : 
 
 Sorrow that, like an ocean dark, deep, rough, 
 
 And shoreless, roll’d its billows o’er the soul 
 Perpetually, and without hope of end.— Pollok. 
 
 Say, where full instinct is the unerring guide, 
 YTat hope or council can they need beside ? 
 Reason, however able, cool at best, 
 
 Cares not for service, or but serves when prest; 
 Stays till we call, and then not often near j 
 But honest instinct comes a volunteer ; 
 
 Sure never to o’ershoot, but just to hit ; 
 
 While still too wide or short is human wit.— Pope. 
 
 The meaner creatures never feel control, 
 
 By glowing instinct guided to the goal; 
 
 Each sense is fed, each faculty employ’d,— 
 
 And all their record is—a life enjoy’d.— Mrs Hale. 
 
 The meaner tribe the coming storm foresees, 
 
 In the still calm the bird divines the breeze; 
 
 The ox that grazes shuns the poison weed j 
 The unseen tiger frights afar the steed; 
 
 To man alone no kind foreboding shows 
 The latent horror or the ambush’d foes ; 
 
 2034. INSTINCT. 
 
 Tell me why the ant, 
 ’Midst summer’s plenty, thinks of winter’s want. 
 By constant journeys careful to prepare 
 Her stores, and bring home the corny ear ? 
 
 By what instruction does she bite the grain, 
 
 Lest hid in earth, and taking root again, 
 
 It might elude the foresight of her care ? 
 
 Distinct in either insect’s deed appear 
 
 The marks of thought, contrivance, hope, and fear. 
 
 Evil, hke us, they shun, and covet good ; 
 
 Abhor the poison and receive the food ; 
 
 Like us they love or hate ; like us they know 
 To joy the friend, or grapple with the foe. 
 
 Y ith seeming thought their action they intend ; 
 And use the means proportion’d to the end. 
 
 O’er each blind moment hangs the funeral pall,— 
 Heaven shines, earth smiles—and night descends on 
 £. 11 . — The New Tinion. 
 
 2 ° 35 - INSTRUCTION. Exemplary 
 
 He is a good divine that follows his 
 
 Own instructions ; I can easier 
 
 Teach twenty what were to be done, than 
 
 To be one of the twenty to follow 
 
 My own teaching : The brain may devise laws 
 
 For the blood, but a hot temper leaps o’er 
 
 A cold decree.— Shakespeare. 
 
 2036. INSTRUCTION: of the young. 
 
 Laborious still, he taught the early mind, 
 
 And urged to manners meek and thoughts refined ; 
 
INSTRUCTION 
 
 393 
 
 INTELLECT 
 
 Truth he impress’d, and every virtue praised ; 
 
 While infant eyes in wondering circles gazed ; 
 
 The worth of time would day by day unfold, 
 
 And tell them every hour was made of gold. 
 
 Dwight. 
 
 2037. INSTRUCTION. Prayer for 
 
 And chiefly Thou, O Spirit, that dost prefer 
 Before all temples, the upright heart and pure, 
 Instruct me, for Thou knowest : Thou from the first 
 Wast present, and with mighty wings outspread 
 Dove-like sat’st brooding on the vast abyss, 
 
 And mad’st it pregnant. What in me is dark, 
 Illumine ; what is low, raise and support ; 
 
 That to the height of this great argument 
 I may assert eternal Providence, 
 
 And justify the ways of God to men.— Milton. 
 
 2038. INSTRUCTION. Systematic 
 
 I It is well to take hold on occasions, and render in¬ 
 direct instruction ; 
 
 It is better to teach upon a system, and reap the 
 wisdom of books.— Tupper. 
 
 2039. INTELLECT. Council of the 
 
 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 slate of man, 
 
 Like to a little kingdom, suffers then 
 The nature of an insurrection.— Shakespeare. 
 
 2040. INTELLECT. Distribution of 
 
 But strange indeed the distribution seem’d 
 Of intellect ; though fewer here complain’d ; 
 
 Each with his share, upon the whole, content. 
 
 One man there was—and many such you might 
 Have met—who never had a dozen thoughts 
 In all his life, and never changed their course; 
 
 But told them o’er, each in its ’custorhed place, 
 From morn till night, from youth till hoary age. 
 Little above the ox which grazed the field 
 His reason rose : so weak his memory, 
 
 The name his mother call'd him by, he scarce 
 Remember’d ; and his judgment so untaught, 
 
 That what at evening play’d along the swamp, 
 Fantastic, clad in robe of fiery hue, 
 
 He thought the devil in disguise, and fled 
 1 With quivering heart and winged footsteps home. 
 The word philosophy he never heard, 
 
 Or science ; never heard of liberty, 
 
 Necessity, or laws of gravitation ; 
 
 And never had an unbelieving doubt. 
 
 Beyond his native vale he never look’d ; 
 
 But thought the visual line, that girt him round, 
 The world’s extreme : and thought the silver moon, 
 That nightly o’er him led her virgin host, 
 
 No broader than his father’s shield. He lived— 
 Lived where his father lived—died where he died— 
 Lived happy, and died happy, and was saved. 
 
 Be not surprised. He loved and served his God. 
 
 There was another, large of understanding, 
 
 Of memory infinite, of judgment deep : 
 
 Who knew all learning, and all science knew, 
 
 And all phenomena, in heaven and earth, 
 
 Traced to their causes ; traced the labyrinths 
 Of thought, association, passion, will ; 
 
 And all the subtile, nice affinities 
 Of matter traced ; its virtues, motions, laws ; 
 
 And most familiarly and deeply talk’d 
 Of mental, moral, natural, divine. 
 
 Leaving the earth at will, he soar’d to heaven, 
 
 And read the glorious visions of the skies ; 
 
 And to the music of the rolling spheres 
 Intelligently listen’d ; and gazed far back 
 Into the awful depths of Deity ; 
 
 Did all that mind assisted most could do ; 
 
 And yet in misery lived, in misery died, 
 
 Because he wanted holiness of heart. 
 
 A deeper lesson this to mortals taught, 
 
 And nearer cut the branches of their pride ; 
 
 That not in mental, but in moral worth, 
 
 God excellence placed; and only to the good, 
 
 To virtue, granted happiness alone. Pollok. 
 
 2041. INTELLECT. Grades of 
 
 But when the silence and the calm come on, 
 
 And the high seal of character is set, 
 
 We shall not all be similar. The flow 
 Of life-time is a graduated scale ; 
 
 And deeper than the vanities of power, 
 
 Or the vain pomp of glory, there is set 
 A standard measuring our worth for heaven. 
 
 The pathway to the grave may be the same, 
 
 And the proud man shall tread it, and the low, 
 With his bow’d head, shall bear him company. 
 And there will be no precedence of power, 
 
 In waking at the coming trump of God ! 
 
 But in the temper of the invisible mind, 
 
 The god-like and undying intellect, 
 
 There are distinctions that will live in heaven 
 When time is a forgotten circumstance ! 
 
 The elevated brow of kings will lose 
 The impress of regalia, and the slave 
 Will wear his immortality as free, 
 
 Beside the crystal waters ; but the depth 
 I Of glory in the attributes of God 
 
INTEMPERA NCE 
 
 394 
 
 INTEMPERA ATE 
 
 Will measure the capacities of mind ; 
 
 And as the angels differ, will the ken 
 Of gifted spirits glorify Him more. 
 
 ’Tis life’s probation task. The soul of man 
 Createth its own destiny of power ; 
 
 And, as the trial is intenser here, 
 
 His being hath a nobler strength in heaven.— Willis. 
 
 2042. INTELLECT. Wealth of 
 
 What wealth in intellect, that sovereign power ! 
 
 Which sense and fancy summons to the bar_ 
 
 Interrogates, approves, or reprehends ; 
 
 And from the mass those underlings import, 
 
 From their materials sifted and refined, 
 
 And in truth’s balance accurately weigh’d, 
 
 Forms art and science, government and law— 
 
 The solid basis and the beauteous frame, 
 
 The vitals and the grace of civil life !— Young. 
 
 2043. INTEMPERANCE. Blight of 
 
 Once the demon enters, 
 
 Stands within the door, 
 
 Peace, and hope, and gladness 
 Dwell there never more. — Chellis. 
 
 2044. INTEMPERANCE. Curse of 
 
 Go, feel what I have felt, 
 
 Go, bear what I have borne ; 
 
 Sink ’neath a blow a father dealt, 
 
 And the cold, proud world’s scorn. 
 
 Thus struggle on from year to year, 
 
 Thy sole relief the scalding tear. 
 
 Go, weep as I have wept 
 O’er a loved father’s fall; 
 
 See every cherish’d promise swept, 
 
 Youth’s sweetness turn’d to gall; 
 
 Hope’s faded flowers strew’d all the way 
 That led me up to woman’s day. 
 
 Go, kneel as I have knelt; 
 
 Implore, beseech, and pray, 
 
 Strive the besotted heart to melt, 
 
 The downward course to stay ; 
 
 Be cast with bitter curse aside, 
 
 Thy prayers burlesqued, thy tears defied. 
 
 _ 4 
 
 Go, stand where I have stood, 
 
 And see the strong man bow, 
 
 With gnashing teeth, lips bathed in blood, 
 And cold and livid brow ; 
 
 Go, catch his wandering glance, and see 
 There mirror’d his soul’s misery. 
 
 Go, hear what I have heard— 
 
 The sobs of sad despair, 
 
 As memory’s feeling fount hath stirr’d, 
 And its revealings there 
 Have told him what he might have been, 
 Had he the drunkard’s fate foreseen. 
 
 Go to my mother’s side, 
 
 And her crush’d spirit cheer ; 
 
 Thine own deep anguish hide, 
 
 Wipe from her cheek the tear; 
 
 Mark her dimm’d eye, her furrow’d brow, 
 
 The grey that streaks her dark hair now, 
 
 The toil-worn frame, the trembling limb, 
 
 And trace the ruin back to him 
 Whose plighted faith, in early youth, 
 
 Promised eternal love and truth, 
 
 But who, forsworn, hath yielded up 
 This promise to the deadly cup. 
 
 And led her down from love and light, 
 
 From all that made her pathway bright, 
 
 And chain’d her there mid want and strife, 
 
 That lowly thing—a drunkard’s wife ! 
 
 And stamp d on childhood’s brow, so mild, 
 
 That withering blight—a drunkard’s child ! 
 
 Go, hear, and see, and feel, and know 
 All that my soul hath felt and known, 
 
 Then look within the wine-cup’s glow ; 
 
 See if its brightness can atone ; 
 
 Think if its flavour you would try, 
 
 If all proclaim’d—’ Tis drink and die. 
 
 Tell me I hate the bowl— 
 
 Hate is a feeble word ; 
 
 I loathe, abhor, my very soul 
 By strong disgust is stirr’d 
 Whene’er I see, or hear, or tell. 
 
 Of the DARK BEVERAGE OF HELL ! 
 
 2045. INTEMPERANCE. Effects of 
 
 He that is drunken 
 Is outlaw’d by himself; all kind of ill 
 Did with his liquor slide into his veins. 
 
 Herbert. 
 
 The pleasing poison 
 
 The visage quite transforms of him that drinks, 
 And the inglorious likeness of a beast 
 Fixes instead, unmoulding reason’s mintage 
 Character’d in the face.— Milton. 
 
 Man with raging drink inflamed 
 Is far more savage and untamed ; 
 
 Supplies his loss of wit and sense 
 With barb’rousness and insolence.— Butler. 
 
INTENTION 
 
 395 
 
 INTERCESSION 
 
 Intemp’rate youth, by sad experience found, 
 
 Ends in an age imperfect and unsound.— Denham. 
 
 Nor need we tell what anxious cares attend 
 The turbulent mirth of wine, nor all the kinds 
 Of maladies that lead to death’s grim cave, 
 
 Wrought by intemperance.— Dry den. 
 
 Know whate’er 
 Beyond its natural fervour hurries on 
 The sanguine tide; whether the frequent bowl, 
 High-season’d fare, or exercise to toil 
 Protracted, spurs to its last stage tired life, 
 
 And sows the temples with untimely snow. 
 
 Armstrong. 
 
 Frequent debauch to habitude prevails ; 
 
 Patience of toil and love of virtue fails. — Prior. 
 
 2046. INTENTION. Retribution of 
 
 Bikasur had of penances fulfill’d his task, 
 
 And promise won of any boon that he might ask. 
 
 ‘ Grant, Siva, that on whom I place my hand, 
 
 He may become a heap of ashes on the land. 
 
 The boon is granted. Lo ! at once Bikasur strives 
 To place his hand on Siva's head, whom terror drives 
 To fly, as close the steps of his pursuer press. 
 
 Then Hari, Nand’s blue son, saw Siva’s deep distress. 
 And went before Bikasur, and demanded why 
 He thus was chasing Siva round the earth and sky. 
 And then he said—when he the whole truth had re¬ 
 ceived— 
 
 ‘ Bikasur ! by some goblin you have been deceived. 
 The mighty boon is all a cheat, a vanity : 
 
 Just put your hand upon your own head, and then 
 see ! ’ 
 
 Bikasur, made by Maia’s power both blind and drunk, 
 The test applied, and to a heap of ashes sunk ! 
 Rejoicing music floated from the heavenly bowers, 
 And all the gods applauded loud, and rain’d down 
 flowers. — Oriental , tr. by W. R. Alger. 
 
 2047. INTENTIONS. Value of good 
 
 The intent and not the deed 
 Is in our power ; and therefore who dares greatly, 
 Does greatly.— Brown. 
 
 2048. INTERCESSION. Christ’s 
 
 Why gaze the cluster’d stars on Hermon’s height? 
 Immensity around—why gaze they there? 
 
 On its high top, as farthest up from earth, 
 
 Enshrined in darkness and alone, there kneels 
 The world’s great Intercessor. Evening came, 
 
 And found Him kneeling there: the rising morn 
 
 Linger’d awhile upon His upturn’d brow ; 
 
 And night pass’d over Him, and still He kneels; 
 
 Till all the air is incense and a prayer, 
 
 As He would save the world by prayer alone, 
 
 Close clasping the eternal throne,—His voice, 
 Unheard below, was heard in heaven intent.— Anon. 
 
 With blood—but not his own—the Jew drew near 
 The mercy-seat, and Heaven received his prayer. 
 Yet still his hope was dimm’d by doubt and fear: 
 
 ‘ If Thou should’st mark transgression, who might 
 dare 
 
 To stand before Thee?’ Mercy loves to spare 
 And pardon, but stern Justice has a voice, 
 
 And cries—Our God is holy, nor can bear 
 Uncleanness in the people of His choice. 
 
 But now One Offering, ne’er to be renew’d. 
 
 Hath made our peace for ever. This now gives 
 Free access to the throne of Heavenly Grace, 
 No more base fear and dark disquietude, 
 
 He who was slain—the Accepted Victim !—lives, 
 And intercedes before the Father’s face. 
 
 Cornier. 
 
 2049. INTERCESSION. Legend of 
 
 Have you read in the Talmud of old, 
 
 -In the Legends the Rabbins have told 
 Of the limitless realms of the air, 
 
 Have you read it—the marvellous story 
 Of Sandalphon, the Angel of Glory, 
 Sandalphon, the Angel of Prayer ? 
 
 How, erect, at the outermost gates 
 Of the City Celestial he waits, 
 
 With his feet on the ladder of light, 
 
 That, crowded with angels unnumber’d, 
 
 By Jacob was seen as he slumber’d 
 Alone in the desert at night ? 
 
 The Angels of Wind and of Fire 
 Chant only one hymn, and expire 
 With the song’s irresistible stress ; 
 
 Expire in their rapture and wonder, 
 
 As harp-strings are broken asunder 
 By music they throb to express. 
 
 But serene in the rapturous throng, 
 
 Unmoved by the i'ush of the song, 
 
 With eyes unimpassion’d and slow, 
 
 Among the dead ingels, the deathless 
 Sandalphon stands listening breathless 
 To sounds that ascend from below ;— 
 
 • 
 
 From the spirits on earth that adore, 
 
 From the souls that entreat and implore 
 In the fervour and passion of prayer ; 
 
INVALID 
 
 396 
 
 INVITATION 
 
 From the hearts that are broken with losses, 
 And weary with dragging the crosses 
 Too heavy for mortals' to bear. 
 
 And he gathers the prayers as he stands, 
 
 And they change into flowers in his hands, 
 Into garlands of purple and red ; 
 
 And beneath the great arch of the portal, 
 
 . Through the streets of the City Immortal, 
 
 Is wafted the fragrance they shed. 
 
 Longfellow . 
 
 2050. INVALID. Hymn for an 
 
 Lord, a whole long day of pain 
 Now at last is o’er ! 
 
 Ah ! how much we can sustain 
 I have felt once more ; 
 
 Felt how frail are all our powers, 
 
 And how weak our trust; 
 
 If Thou help not, these dark hours 
 Crush us to the dust. 
 
 Could I face the coming night, 
 
 If Thou wert not near ? 
 
 Nay, without Thy love and might 
 I must sink with fear. 
 
 Round me falls the evening gloom, 
 
 Sights and sounds all cease, 
 
 But within this narrow room 
 Night will bring no peace. 
 
 Other weary eyes may close, 
 
 All things seek their sleep, 
 
 Hither comes no soft repose, 
 
 I must wake and weep. 
 
 Come then, Jesus, o’er me bend, 
 
 Give me strength to cope 
 With my pains, and gently send 
 Thoughts of peace and hope. 
 
 Draw my weary heart away 
 From this gloom and strife, 
 
 And these fever-pains allay 
 With the dew of life. 
 
 Thou canst calm the troubled mind. 
 
 Thou its dread canst still, 
 
 Teach me to be all-resign’d 
 To my Father’s will. 
 
 2051. INVENTION. 
 
 Th’ invention all admired, and each, how he 
 To be th’ inventor miss’d ; so easy it seem’d, 
 
 Once found, which yet unfound most would have 
 thought 
 
 Impossible.— Milton. % 
 
 Reason, remembrance, wit, inventive art, 
 
 No nature, but immortal, can impart. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 By improving what was writ before, 
 
 Invention labours less, but judgment more. 
 
 Roscommon. 
 
 All the inventions that the world contains, 
 Were not by reason first found out, nor brains; 
 But pass for theirs who had the luck to light 
 Upon them by mistake or oversight. —Butler. 
 
 Invention is activity of mind, as fire is air in motion ; 
 A sharpening of the spiritual sight, to discern hidden 
 aptitudes.— Tnpper. 
 
 The eye cannot make light, nor the mind spirit; 
 Therefore it is wise in man to name all novelty 
 invention.— Tupper. 
 
 . -• . 
 
 2052. INVITATION. Christ’s 
 
 Lord, what am I, that, with unceasing care, 
 
 Thou didst seek after me, that Thou didst wait. 
 Wet with unhealthy dews, before my gate, 
 
 And pass the gloomy nights of winter there? 
 
 Oh strange delusion ! that I did not greet 
 
 Thy blest approach, and oh, to heaven how lost, 
 If my ingratitude’s unkindly frost 
 Has chill’d the bleeding wounds upon Thy feet. 
 
 How oft my guardian angel gently cried, 
 
 ‘ Soul, from thy casement look, and thou shalt see 
 How He persists to knock and wait for thee ! * 
 And, oh ! how often to that voice of sorrow, 
 ‘To-morrow we will open,’ I replied. 
 
 And when the morrow came I answer’d still, 
 
 ‘ To-morrow.’— Longfellow. 
 
 Oh, the bitter shame and sorrow 
 That a time could ever be, 
 
 When I let the Saviour’s pity 
 Plead in vain, and proudly answer’d, 
 
 ‘ All of self, and none of Thee ! ’ 
 
 Yet He found me ; I beheld Him 
 Bleeding, on the accursed tree ; 
 
 Heard Him pray, ‘ Forgive them, Father ! ’ 
 
 And my wistful heart said faintly, 
 
 ‘ Some of self, and some of Thee ! ’ 
 
 Day by day His tender mercy, 
 
 Healing, helping, full, and free, 
 
 Sweet and strong, and ah ! so patient. 
 
 Brought me lower, while I whisper’d, 
 
 ‘ Less of self, and more of Thee ! 
 
 Higher than the highest heavens, 
 
 Deeper than the deepest sea, 
 
 Lord, Thy love at last hath conquer’d ; 
 
 Grant me now my soul’s desire— 
 
 ‘ None of self, and all of Thee ! ’ 
 
 Theodore Monod. 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 
 
INVITA TION 
 
 39 7 
 
 IRRESOLUTION 
 
 2053. INVITATION. Death’s 
 
 Rise, said the Master, come unto the feast: 
 
 She heard the call and rose with willing feet; 
 
 But thinking it not otherwise than meet 
 For such a bidding to put on her best, 
 
 She has gone from us for a few short hours 
 Into her bridal closet, there to wait 
 For the unfolding of the palace gate, 
 
 That gives her entrance to the blissful bowers. 
 
 We have not seen her yet, though we have been 
 Full often to her chamber-door, and oft 
 Have listen’d underneath the postern green, 
 
 And laid fresh flowers, and whisper’d short and 
 
 soft, 
 
 But she hath made no answer, and the day 
 From the clear west is fading fast away. Alford. 
 
 2054. INVITATION. Gracious 
 
 Souls of men ! why will ye scatter 
 Like a crowd of frighten’d sheep ? 
 
 Foolish hearts ! why will ye wander 
 From a love so true and deep ? 
 
 Was there ever kindest shepherd 
 Half so gentle, half so sweet, 
 
 As the Saviour who would have us 
 Come and gather round His feet ? 
 
 It is God : His love looks mighty, 
 
 But is mightier than it seems. 
 
 ’Tis our Father ; and His fondness 
 Goes far out beyond our dreams. 
 
 There’s a wideness in God’s mercy, 
 
 Like the wideness of the sea ; 
 
 There’s a kindness in His justice, 
 
 Which is more than liberty. 
 
 There is no place where earth’s sorrows 
 Are more felt than up in heaven ; 
 
 There is no place where earth’s failings 
 Have such kindly judgment given. 
 
 There is welcome for the sinner, 
 
 And more graces for the good ; 
 
 There is mercy with the Saviour ; 
 
 Thei'e is healing in His blood. 
 
 There is grace enough for thousands 
 Of new worlds as great as this ; 
 
 There is room for fresh creations 
 In that upper home of bliss. 
 
 For the love of God is broader 
 
 Than the measures of man’s mind ; 
 
 And the Heart of the Eternal 
 Is most wonderfully kind. 
 
 But we make His love too narrow 
 By false limits of our own ; 
 
 And we magnify His strictness 
 With a zeal He will not own. 
 
 There is plentiful redemption 
 
 In the blood that has been shed ; 
 
 There is joy for all the members 
 In the sorrows of the Head. 
 
 ’Tis not all we owe to Jesus : 
 
 It is something more than all— 
 
 Greater good because of evil, 
 
 Larger mercy through the fall. 
 
 Pining souls ! come nearer Jesus ; 
 
 And, oh, come not doubting thus, 
 
 But with faith that trusts more bravely 
 His huge tenderness for us. 
 
 If our love were but more simple, 
 
 We should take Him at His word ; 
 
 And our lives would be all sunshine 
 In the sweetness of our Lord.— Faber. 
 
 2055. IRRESOLUTION. 
 
 Our doubts are traitors, 
 
 And make us lose the good we oft might win, 
 
 By fearing to attempt.— Shakespeare. 
 
 That we would do, 
 
 We should do when we would; for this would 
 changes, 
 
 And hath abatements and delays as many 
 As there are tongues, are hands, are accidents ; 
 
 And then this should is like a spendthrift sigh, 
 
 That hurts by easing .—Shakespeare. 
 
 Like a man to double business bound, 
 
 I stand in pause where I shall first begin, 
 
 And both neglect.— Shakespeare. 
 
 I am a heavy stone, 
 
 Roll’d up a hill by a weak child : I move 
 A little up, and tumble back again .—Rider. 
 
 None sends his arrow to the mark in view, 
 
 Whose hand is feeble, or his aim untrue. 
 
 For though, ere yet the shaft is on the wing, 
 
 Or when it first forsakes the elastic string, 
 
 It err but little from the intended line, 
 
 It falls at last far wide of his design : 
 
 So he who seeks a mansion in the sky, 
 
 Must watch his purpose with a steadfast eye ; 
 That prize belongs to none but the sincere, 
 
 The least obliquity is fatal here.— Cowper. 
 
ISOLATION 
 
 398 
 
 JEALOUSY 
 
 ^056. ISOLATION. Human 
 
 Thought is deeper than all speech, 
 
 Feeling deeper than all thought; 
 
 Souls to souls can never teach 
 
 What unto themselves was taught. 
 
 We are spirits clad in veils ; 
 
 Man by man was never seen ; 
 
 All our deep communing fails 
 To remove the shadowy screen. 
 
 Heart to heart was never known ; 
 
 Mind with mind did never meet; 
 
 We are columns left alone 
 Of a temple once complete. 
 
 Like the stars that gem the sky, 
 
 Far apart though seeming near, 
 
 In our light we scatter’d lie ; 
 
 All is thus but starlight here. 
 
 What is social company 
 
 But a babbling summer stream ? 
 
 What our wise philosophy 
 But the glancing of a dream ? 
 
 Only when the sun of love 
 Melts the scatter’d stars of thought, 
 
 Only when we live above 
 
 What the dim-eyed world hath taught, 
 
 Only when our souls are fed 
 
 By the fount which gave them birth, 
 
 And by inspiration led 
 
 Which they never drew from earth, 
 
 We, like parted drops of rain. 
 
 Swelling till they meet and run, 
 
 Shall be all absorb’d again, 
 
 Melting, flowing into one.— Cranch. 
 
 2057. ITALY. 
 
 Fair Italy! 
 
 Thou art the garden of the world, the home 
 Of all Art yields, and Nature can decree, 
 
 Even in thy desert, what is like to thee ? 
 
 Thy very weeds are beautiful, thy waste 
 More rich than other climes’ fertility ; 
 
 Thy wreck a glory, and thy ruin graced 
 With an immaculate charm which cannot be de 
 faced. — Byron. 
 
 2058. JACOB’S LADDER. 
 
 When Jacob slept in Bethel, and there dream d 
 Of angels ever climbing and descending 
 A ladder, whose height of splendour seem d 
 With glory of the Ineffable Presence blending, 
 
 The place grew sacred to his reverent thought; 
 
 He said, ‘ Lo ! God is here—I knew it not. ’ 
 ...•••••• 
 
 The patriarch’s vision—not for him alone 
 Lighted that golden mystery his slumber ; 
 Beneath it slept a world of souls unknown. • 
 
 When God sets up a sign, no man may number 
 Its meanings infinite. Who runneth reads, 
 
 And finds the interpretation that he needs. 
 
 Wherever upward, even the lowest round, 
 
 Man by a hand’s help lifts his feeble brother, 
 There is the house of God and holy ground. 
 
 The gate of heaven is love ; there is none other. 
 When generous act blooms from unselfish thought, 
 The Lord is with us, though we know it not. 
 
 This ladder is let down in every place 
 Where unto nobler virtues men aspire. 
 
 Our human lineaments gain angel grace, 
 
 Leaving behind low aim and base desire. 
 Deserts of earth are changed to Bethel thus : 
 
 The vision is for every one of us. 
 
 2059. JACOB’S VISION. 
 
 He slept beneath the desert skies, 
 
 His pillar was the desert stone, 
 
 Yet heavenly visions bless’d his eyes, 
 
 And cheer’d his spirit sad and lone. 
 
 He saw the stair of light let down, 
 
 Whose shining steps the angels trod, 
 
 And call’d the desert where it shone 
 The gate of heaven—the house of God. 
 
 Thy sleepless eye, O God, still keeps 
 Its watch o’er every covenant heir ; 
 
 And angels down that ladder s steps 
 From Thee to me a blessing bear. 
 
 Through Christ to Thee ascends my prayer, 
 Through Christ on me is grace bestow’d ; 
 Each place becomes, when Christ is there, 
 
 The gate of heaven—the house of God. 
 
 In dungeons dark, in dwellings mean, 
 
 Where suffering saints have bent the knee, 
 That mystic ladder has been seen, 
 
 And angels come with gifts from Thee. 
 
 This night may I the vision see, 
 
 My spirit climb that radiant road ; 
 
 This night my quiet chamber be 
 
 The gate of heaven—the house of God. 
 
 2060. JEALOUSY. 
 
 Foul Jealousy ! that turnest love divine 
 
 To joyless dread, and mak’st the loving heart 
 
JEALOUSY 399 
 
 Vith hateful thoughts to languish and to pine 
 And feed itself with self-consuming smart: 
 
 Of all the passions in the mind thou vilest art. 
 
 Spenser. 
 
 Yrath is a fire, and jealousy a weed ; 
 
 Pie sparks soon quench, the springing weed out 
 weed.— Spenser. 
 
 Trifles, light as air, 
 
 - Are to the jealous confirmations strong 
 As proofs of Holy Writ. Shakespeai e. 
 
 When this disease of jealousy can find 
 A way to seize upon a crazy mind, 
 
 Most things, instead of help, or giving ease, 
 The humour feed, and turn to the disease. 
 
 Howard. 
 
 All jealousy 
 
 Must still be strangled in its birth ; or time 
 Will soon conspire to make it strong enough 
 To overcome the truth.— Davenant. 
 
 O Jealousy ! thou merciless destroyer, 
 
 More cruel than the grave! what ravages 
 
 Does thy wild war make in the noblest bosoms. 
 
 Mallet. 
 
 JERUSALEM 
 
 All other passions have their hour of thinking, 
 
 And hear the voice of reason. This alone 
 Breaks at the first suspicion into phrenzy, 
 
 And sweeps the soul in tempests.— Francis. 
 
 2061. JERUSALEM. Desolate 
 
 Is this thy place, sad city, this thy throne ? 
 
 Where the lone desert rears the craggy stone, 
 
 Where suns unblest their angry lustre fling,# 
 
 And wayworn pilgrims seek the scanty spring ? 
 Where now thy pomp, which kings with envy 
 view’d ? 
 
 Where now thy power, which all those kings sub¬ 
 dued ? 
 
 No martial myriads muster in thy gates 
 No suppliant nation at thy temple waits, 
 
 No prophet bard, thy glittering courts among, 
 Wakes the full lyre, and swells the tide of song ; 
 
 But lawless force and meagre want is there, 
 
 And the quick-darting eye of restless fear ; 
 
 While cold Oblivion, ’mid the ruins laid, 
 
 Hides his dark wing beneath the ivy shade. Heber. 
 
 2062. JERUSALEM. Modern 
 
 Among the sons of men how few are known 
 Who dare be just to merit not their own ! 
 
 Superior virtue and superior sense 
 To knaves and fools will always give offence. 
 
 Nay, men of real worth can scarcely bear, 
 jf So nice is jealousy, a rival there. — Churchill. 
 
 It is Jealousy’s peculiar nature 
 To swell small things to great; nay, out of nought 
 , 1 To conjure much ; and then to lose its reason 
 Amid the hideous phantoms it has form’d.— Young. 
 
 Jealousy, saidst thou? I disdain it. no 
 Distrust is poor, and a misplaced suspicion 
 Invites, and justifies the falsehood fear’d. Hill. 
 
 But through the heart 
 
 I 1 Should jealousy its venom once diffuse, 
 
 ’Tis then delightful misery no more, 
 
 But agony unmix’d, incessant gall, 
 
 Corroding every thought, and blasting all 
 Love’s paradise. Y e fairy prospects, then, 
 
 Ye beds of roses, and ye bowers of joy, 
 
 1 Farewell! ye gleamings of departed peace, 
 
 Shine out your last! the yellow-tinging plague 
 Internal vision taints, and in a night 
 , Of livid gloom imagination wraps. — Thomson. 
 
 In gentle love the sweetest joys we find — 
 
 Yet even those joys, dire jealousy molests, 
 
 And blackens each fair image in our breasts. 
 
 Lyttleton. 
 
 Thy strength, Jerusalem, is o er, 
 
 And broken are thy walls ; 
 
 The harp of Israel sounds no more 
 In thy deserted halls : 
 
 But where thy Kings and Piophets trod, 
 Triumphant over death 
 Behold the living Soul of God— 
 
 The Christ of Nazareth ! 
 
 The halo of His presence fills 
 Thy courts, thy ways of men ; 
 
 His footsteps on the holy hills 
 Are beautiful as then ; 
 
 The prayer, whose bloody sweat betray’d 
 
 His human agony, 
 
 Still haunts the awful olive shade 
 Of old Gethsemane. 
 
 Woe unto thee, Jerusalem ! 
 
 Slayer of Prophets, thou 
 That in thy fury stonest them 
 God sent and sends thee now : 
 
 Where Thou, O Christ! with anguish spent, 
 Forgave Thy foes, and died. 
 
 Thy garments yet are daily rent, 
 
 Thy soul is crucified ! 
 
 They darken with the Christian name 
 The light that from Thee beam’d, 
 
 And by the hatred they proclaim 
 Thy Spirit is blasphemed ; 
 
JERUSALEM 
 
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 JESUS 
 
 Unto Thine ear the prayers they send 
 Were fit for Belial’s reign, 
 
 And Moslem cimeters defend 
 The temple they profane. 
 
 Who shall rebuild Jerusalem ? 
 
 Her scatter’d children bring 
 From earth’s far ends, and gather them 
 Beneath her sheltering wing? 
 
 Foiijudah’s sceptre broken lies, 
 
 And from his kingly stem 
 No new Messiah shall arise 
 For lost Jerusalem ! 
 
 But let the wild ass on her hills 
 Its foal unfrighted lead, 
 
 And by the source of Kedron’s rills 
 The desert adder breed : 
 
 For where the love of Christ has made 
 Its mansion in the heart, 
 
 He builds in pomp that will not fade 
 
 Her heavenly counterpart.— Bayard Taylor. 
 
 2063. JERUSALEM : rebellious and ruined. 
 
 The signs are full, and never shall the sun 
 Shine on the cedar roofs of Salem more j 
 Her tale of splendour now is done ; 
 
 Her wine-cup of festivity is spilt, 
 
 And all is o’er—her grandeur and her guilt. 
 
 Oh, fair and favour’d city, where of old, 
 
 The balmy airs were rich with melody, 
 
 That led her pomp beneath the cloudless sky 
 In vestments flaming with the orient gold ; 
 
 Her gold is dim, and mute her music’s voice, 
 
 The heathen o’er her perish’d pomp rejoice ! 
 
 How stately then was every palm-deck’d street 
 Down which the maidens danced with tinkling feet • 
 How proud the elders in the lofty gate ! 
 
 How crowded all her nation s solemn feasts 
 With white-robed Levites, and high-mitred piiests ! 
 How gorgeous her temple’s sacred state ! 
 
 Her streets are razed, her maidens sold for sla\es, 
 Her crates thrown down, her elders in their graves ; 
 Her feasts are holden ’mid the Oentiles scorn, 
 
 By stealth her priesthood’s holy garments worn. 
 
 Milman. 
 
 Jerusalem! alas! alas! of old. 
 
 Deaf to whate’er prophetic seers foretold, 
 
 Assailing all whom Heaven in mercy sent, 
 
 And murdering those that warn d thee to repent! 
 Thou, the world’s Saviour who suspendedst high, 
 His works reviled, and mock’d His agony, 
 
 How oft hath God, still gracious, striven to bring 
 Thy devious brood beneath His sheltering 'uing, 
 
 To save thee from the hovering eagle’s power, 
 
 And shield the unequall’d misery of this hour ! 
 
 But no! thou would’st not! thence this signal fate ! 
 Thence art thou fall’n ! deserted ! desolate ! 
 
 Gibson. 
 
 2064. JESTING. 
 
 Laugh not too much ; the witty man laughs least: 
 
 For wit is news only to ignorance : 
 
 Less at thine own things laugh ; lest in the jest 
 Thy person share, and the conceit advance. 
 
 Make not thy sport abuses : for the fly 
 That feeds on dung, is coloured thereby. 
 
 Pick from thy mirth, like stones out of the ground, 
 Profaneness, filthiness, abusiveness : 
 
 These are the scum with which coarse wits abound : 
 
 The fine may spare this well, yet not go less. 
 
 All things are big with jest: nothing that’s plain, 
 
 But may be witty, if thou hast the vein .—Herbert. 
 
 A jest’s prosperity lies in the ear 
 Of him that hears it, never in the tongue 
 Of him that makes it .—Shakespeare. 
 
 Who, for the poor renown of being smart. 
 Would leave a sting within a brother’s heart ? 
 
 Young. 
 
 As in smooth oil the razor best is whet, 
 
 So wit is by politeness sharpest set; 
 
 Their want of edge from their offence is seen, 
 Both pain us least when exquisitely keen ; 
 
 The fame men give is for the joy they find ; 
 Dull is the jester when the joke’s unkind. 
 
 Young. 
 
 Of all the griefs that harass the distrest, 
 
 Sure the most bitter is a scornful jest.— Johnson 
 
 2065. JESUS. Charity of 
 
 The Master came one evening to the gate 
 Of a far city ; it was growing late, 
 
 And, sending His disciples to buy food, 
 
 He wander’d forth, intent on doing good, 
 
 As was His wont. And in the market-place 
 He saw a crowd, close gather’d in one space, 
 Gazing with eager eyes upon the ground. 
 
 Jesus drew nearer, and thereon He found 
 A noisome creature, a bedraggled wreck, 
 
 A dead dog with a halter round his neck. 
 
 And those who stood by mock’d the object theie, 
 And one said, scoffing, ‘ It pollutes the air ! 
 Another, jeering, ask’d, ‘ How long to-night 
 Shall such a miscreant cur offend our sight ? ’ 
 
 * Look at his torn hide,’ sneer’d a Jewish wit; 
 
 * You could not cut even a shoe from it, 
 
JESUS 
 
 401 
 
 JESUS 
 
 And turn’d away. ‘ Behold his ears that bleed,’ ^ 
 
 A fourth chimed in. ‘ An unclean wretch indeed ! 
 
 ‘ He hath been hang’d for thieving,’ they all cried. 
 And'spurn’d the loathsome beast from side to side. 
 Then Jesus, standing by them in the street, 
 
 Look’d on the poor spent creature at His feet, 
 
 And, bending o’er him, spake unto the men, 
 
 < p ea rls are not whiter than his teeth? And then 
 The people at each other gazed, asking, 
 
 ‘■Who is this stranger pitying the vile thing? ’ 
 
 Then one exclaim’d, with awe-abated breath, 
 
 ‘ This surely is the Man of Nazareth ; 
 
 This must be Jesus, for none else but He 
 Something to praise in a dead dog could see ! 
 
 And, being ashamed, each scoffer bow’d his head, 
 
 And from the sight of Jesus turn’d and fled. 
 
 An Onental Legend. 
 
 2066. JESUS. Cling to 
 
 Cling to the Crucified ! 
 
 His death is life to thee,— 
 
 Life for eternity. 
 
 His pains thy pardon seal; 
 
 His stripes thy bruises heal; 
 
 His cross proclaims thy peace, 
 
 Bids every sorrow cease. 
 
 His blood is all to thee, 
 
 It purges thee from sin ; 
 
 It sets thy spirit free, 
 
 It keeps thy conscience clean. 
 
 Cling to the Crucified! 
 
 Cling to the Crucified ! 
 
 His is a heart of love, 
 
 Full as the hearts above ; 
 
 Its depths of sympathy 
 Are all awake for thee : 
 
 His countenance is light, 
 
 Even to the darkest night. 
 
 That love shall never change— 
 
 That light shall ne’er grow dim ; 
 Charge thou thy faithless heart 
 To find its all in Him. 
 
 Cling to the Crucified \—Bonar. 
 
 2067. JESUS: God and Man. 
 
 Spring-tide and leaf-fall, eve and mom, 
 Earth saw the slow-paced centuries go ; 
 
 She wore her verdure, wore her snow, 
 
 The long night went, the day was bom. 
 
 Then glow’d the heavens with angel eyes ; 
 
 On Night’s dark brow the starry Sign 
 Red flared the Dawn ; from tongues divine 
 Down slid the golden symphonies 
 
 To shepherd ears ; all earth aiound, 
 
 A ghastly dread, a horror fell, 
 
 A blight on shrine and oracle ; 
 
 The gods bow’d crumbling to the ground. 
 
 A child He came, to man He grew, 
 
 He breathed earth’s tainted, common air ; 
 He loathed its foul, He loved its fair, 
 
 Cool on His brow the evening blew. 
 
 Soft dropp’d His eye on wayside flowers, 
 
 He heard the whispers of the palms 
 Creep o’er the noontide s golden calms, 
 
 He took the burden of the Hours. 
 
 With shadow’d brow and aching ear 
 He heard the wail, the hunger-cry, 
 
 Smite up against the deaf, cold sky,. 
 
 The sob above the dead and dear. 
 
 Like man’s His lips could smile or groan, 
 Like man He ate, like man He slept, 
 Rejoiced, was weary, thirsted, wept, 
 
 And evermore He walk’d alone. 
 
 Both God and man, to man He came, 
 
 He made a sunrise round the grave, 
 Smitten, the smiter He forgave, 
 
 He fed the hungry, cured the lame. 
 
 They pierced His hands, His feet, His side, 
 All Nature own’d the Holy One, 
 
 A shadow trail’d across the sun, 
 
 The mountains trembled when He died. 
 
 He rules the World Invisible— 
 
 The countless, the undying hosts 
 That line those unseen, mystic coasts, 
 
 All give Him praise, in Him they dwell. 
 
 He gently leads the friends that we 
 Behold no more, by waters still, 
 
 Beyond the flesh, the evil will; 
 
 To Him they lift their eyes and see 
 
 That smile more bland than when on earth 
 It cheer’d the hearts on which it shone, 
 And dried the tear and still’d the moan, 
 And beam’d upon the nuptial mirth. 
 
 But He is more ; I may rejoice 
 
 To know this world above, around, 
 Cloud, mountain, river, storm, and sound, 
 The stars, the seasons, hear His voice. 
 
 In Him the breeze of Summer blows 
 
 O’er grass and many-murmurmg com ; 
 
 In Him the dews and leaves are bom, 
 
 He paints the lily and the rose. 
 
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JESUS 
 
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 JESUS 
 
 Before the things that are He was; 
 
 Before the pyramids arose, 
 
 Or Andes glitter’d in their snows, 
 
 He saw the dateless Centuries pass. 
 
 He was when earths and suns were not— 
 
 When space was but a starless pall, 
 
 And Night and Chaos old were all, 
 
 The worlds were sculptured in His thought 
 
 The universe, in Him conceal’d, 
 
 Lay waiting the appointed Hour— 
 
 Seed rising into perfect flower, 
 
 The flower to fruit by bank and field. 
 
 This fair, frail violet that blows 
 Beside the rock, this gentian fringe 
 Thrice dipp’d in heaven’s glorious tinge, 
 
 This little brook that by me goes 
 
 Singing a low and quiet song, 
 
 No less than yonder glittering domes 
 That shine above ten thousand homes, 
 
 And streets that thicken with the throng, 
 
 All lived in Him, all stood and shone 
 Parts of that wise, stupendous plan, 
 
 Whose glory, crown, and end is Man, 
 
 Man saved through the Eternal Son— 
 
 The Love that neither depth nor height 
 Could hold, nor angel’s tongue express, 
 
 The Man Divine, than God no less, 
 
 Immortal Life, Eternal Light. 
 
 He in our souls His kingdom lays 
 In power to fight, endure, withstand, 
 
 In seeing eye and willing hand, 
 
 God-likeness, patience, love, and praise. 
 
 Even in the flesh, conjoin’d to Him, 
 
 Earthly united with Divine, 
 
 On heavenly thrones we sit and shine; 
 
 We walk and talk with Seraphim. 
 
 Death smites our brain, the walls grow dim ; 
 
 The Resui-rection and the Life 
 He stands within the dying strife; 
 
 Death is the door that leads to Him.— Hempstead. 
 
 2068. JESUS : last and first. 
 
 Jesus ! when my soul is parting 
 From this body frail and weak, 
 
 And the deathly dew is starting 
 
 Down this pale and wasted cheek,— 
 
 Thine, my Saviour, 
 
 Be the Name I last shall speak. 
 
 Jesus ! when my memory wanders 
 Far from loved ones at my side, 
 
 And in fitful dreaming ponders 
 
 Who are they that near me glide,— 
 
 Last, my Saviour, 
 
 Let my thoughts on Thee abide. 
 
 When the morn in all its glory 
 Charms no more mine ear nor eye, 
 
 And the shadows closing o’er me 
 Warn me of the time to die,— 
 
 Last, my Saviour, 
 
 Let me see Thee standing by. 
 
 When my feet shall pass the river, 
 
 And upon the farther shore 
 I shall walk, redeem’d for ever— 
 
 Ne’er to sin—to die no more,— 
 
 First, Lord Jesus ! 
 
 Let me see Thee, and adore.— Mackellar. 
 
 2069. JESUS. Mementos of 
 
 I’ll carve our passion on the bark, 
 
 And every wounded tree 
 Shall drop and bear some mystic mark 
 That Jesus died for me. 
 
 The swains shall wonder when they read, 
 Inscribed on all the grove, 
 
 That Heaven itself came down, and bled, 
 To win a mortal’s love.— Watts. 
 
 2070. JESUS. Name of 
 
 Jesus, Immanuel, Saviour! 
 
 Words holy and sublime ; 
 
 How shall their wondrous cadence 
 Re-echo through all time ! 
 
 Jesus, the sweetest music 
 That mortals e’er can know, 
 
 It soothes the child of sorrow, 
 
 And lightens eveiy woe. 
 
 As breezes in the desert, 
 
 As dew on sterile ground, 
 
 So to the sad and weary 
 Comes the reviving sound. 
 
 As flowers without the sunbeam 
 Must lose their bloom and die ; 
 
 So hearts can only flourish, 
 
 Dear Lord, beneath Thine eye. 
 
 Jesus, Thy love unbounded, 
 
 Our dearest theme shall be; 
 
 Forbid that we should'wander, 
 
 In heart or life, from Thee : 
 
 Keep, keep us then enfolded 
 Within Thine arm of might— 
 
 Be Thou our guiding pillar, 
 
 We ask no better light.— Mrs Parker. 
 
JESUS 
 
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 JESUS 
 
 2071. JESUS. Need of 
 
 I need Thee, precious Jesus ! 
 
 For I am full of sin ; 
 
 My soul is dark and guilty, 
 
 My heart is dead within ; 
 
 I need the cleansing fountain, 
 
 Where I can always flee— 
 
 The blood of Christ most precious ; 
 
 The sinner’s perfect plea. 
 
 I need Thee, precious Jesus ! 
 
 For I am very poor ; 
 
 A stranger and a pilgrim, 
 
 With little earthly store : 
 
 I need the love of Jesus 
 To cheer me on my way, 
 
 To guide my doubting footsteps, 
 
 To be my strength and stay. 
 
 I need Thee, precious Jesus ! 
 
 I need a Friend like Thee ; 
 
 A Friend to soothe and sympathize— 
 
 A Friend to care for me ; 
 
 I need the heart of Jesus, 
 
 To feel each anxious care, 
 
 To tell my every want to, 
 
 And all my sorrows share. 
 
 I need Thee, precious Jesus ! 
 
 For I am very blind ! 
 
 A weak and foolish wanderer, 
 
 With dark and evil mind ; 
 
 I need the light of Jesus, 
 
 To tread the thorny road, 
 
 To guide me safe to glory, 
 
 Where I shall see my God.— Whitfield. 
 
 2072. JESUS: our sufficiency. 
 
 I lay my sins on J esus, 
 
 The spotless Lamb of God ; 
 
 He bears them all, and frees us 
 From the accursed load. 
 
 I bring my guilt to Jesus, 
 
 To wash my crimson stains 
 White in His blood most precious, 
 
 Till not a spot remains. 
 
 I lay my wants on Jesus ; 
 
 All fulness dwells in Him : 
 
 He heals all my diseases, 
 
 He doth my soul redeem. 
 
 I lay my griefs on Jesus, 
 
 My burdens and my cares ; 
 
 He from them all releases, 
 
 He all my sorrow shares. 
 
 I rest my soul on Jesus, 
 
 This weary soul of mine ; 
 
 His right hand me embraces, 
 
 I on His breast recline. 
 
 I love the name of Jesus, 
 
 Immanuel, Christ, the Lord ; 
 
 Like fragrance on the breezes 
 His name abroad is pour’d. 
 
 I long to be like Jesus, 
 
 Meek, loving, lowly, mild; 
 
 I long to be like Jesus, 
 
 The Father’s holy child. 
 
 I long to be with Jesus 
 Amid the heavenly throng, 
 
 To sing with saints His praises, 
 
 To learn the angels’ song.— Bonar. 
 
 2073. JESUS. Prayer to 
 
 Jesus ! when I fainting lie, 
 
 And the world is flitting by, 
 
 Hold Thou up my head : 
 
 When the cry is, ‘ Thou must die,’ 
 
 And the awful hour draws nigh, 
 
 Stand by my bed. 
 
 Jesus ! when the worst is o’er, 
 
 And they bear me from the door, 
 
 Meet the sorrowing throng : 
 
 «Weep not!’ let the mourner hear : 
 Widow’s woe and orphan’s tear 
 Turn into song. 
 
 Jesus! in that last great day 
 Come Thou down and touch my clay, 
 
 Speak the word ‘ Arise.’ 
 
 Friend to gladsome friend restore ; 
 
 Living, praising, evermore 
 Above the skies ! 
 
 2074. JESUS. Precious Name of 
 
 Whate’er the anguish of my breast, its flutteiing 
 doth cease 
 
 Whene’er Thy name of comfort fills my spirit with 
 Thy peace ! 
 
 No consolation is so sweet as that Thy name doth 
 
 give— 
 
 Thy Jesus name ! O David’s Son and Lord, by 
 whom I live! 
 
 Thy name of Jesus is a store of all that heart can 
 need, 
 
 Enfolding every precious thing—fruit, blossom, leaf, 
 and seed! 
 
JESUS 
 
 404 
 
 JESUS 
 
 He spends his time most worthily who seeks that 
 Name to know : 
 
 Its ocean-fulness riseth still as ages onward flow ! 
 
 Apart from Jesus’ precious name I’ve nothing to de¬ 
 sire ; 
 
 Of all beside, e’en were it mine, my heart would 
 only tire. 
 
 Apart from Him there’s nought of worth, created 
 things are vain ; 
 
 He is my glory and my wealth, my honour and my 
 gain ! 
 
 Thy precious name, Lord Jesus Christ! is better far 
 to me, 
 
 Than all the wealth that can be found in earth, or 
 air, or sea. 
 
 Thou art the paradise, set forth by God’s own hand 
 of love ; 
 
 Thy presence is itself the heaven, where I shall dwell 1 
 above.— Baron von Canitz. 
 
 2075. JESUS : the joy of loving hearts. 
 
 Jesus, Thou Joy of loving hearts ! 
 
 Thou Fount of life ! Thou Light of men ! 
 
 From the best bliss that earth imparts, 
 
 We turn unfill’d to Thee again. 
 
 Thy truth unchanged hath ever stood ; 
 
 Thou savest those that on Thee call; 
 
 To them that seek Thee Thou art good; 
 
 To them that find Thee, all in all! 
 
 We taste Thee, O Thou living Bread, 
 
 And long to feast upon Thee still! 
 
 We drink of Thee, the Fountain-head, 
 
 And thirst our souls from Thee to fill! 
 
 Our restless spirits yearn for Thee, 
 
 Where’er our changeful lot is cast; 
 
 Glad when Thy gracious smile we see, 
 
 Blest when our faith can hold Thee fast. 
 
 O Jesus, ever with us stay ! 
 
 Make all our moments calm and bright! 
 
 Chase the dark night of sin away, 
 
 Shed o’er the world Thy holy light ! 
 
 St Bernard, tr. by Ray Palmer. 
 
 2 076. JESUS. Touching 
 
 He came a leper, all unclean and foul; 
 
 He left, as fresh as freshest infancy. 
 
 So come I to 1 hy feet, unclean in soul, 
 
 So leave I, Lord, cleansed and restored by Thee. 
 
 I touch Thee and am cured ! No touch of mine 
 Can render Thee impure, whatever be 
 
 The foulness of the hand that touches Thine : 
 
 Thee it defiles not, yet it cleanses me. 
 
 That touch to me is Paradise restored, 
 
 It is to me the very gate of heaven. 
 
 Thou art my help, my happiness, O Lord, 
 
 In Thee I stand, deliver’d and forgiven.— Sonar. 
 
 2077. JESUS: unchanged. 
 
 All is dying ; hearts are breaking, 
 
 Which to ours were once fast bound ; 
 
 And the lips have ceased from speaking, 
 
 Which once utter’d such sweet sound ; 
 
 And the arms are powerless lying, 
 
 Which were our support and stay ; 
 
 And the eyes are dim and dying, 
 
 Which once watch’d us night and day. 
 
 Everything we love and cherish 
 Hastens onward to the grave ; 
 
 Earthly joys and pleasures perish, 
 
 And whate’er the world e’er gave : 
 
 All is fading, all is fleeing, 
 
 Earthly flames must cease to glow ; 
 
 Earthly beings cease from being, 
 
 Earthly blossoms cease to blow. 
 
 Yet unchanged, while all decayeth, 
 
 Jesus stands upon the dust, 
 
 ‘Lean on Me alone,’ He sayeth, 
 
 ‘ Hope and love, and firmly trust! ’ 
 
 Oh, abide, abide with Jesus, 
 
 Who Himself for ever lives, 
 
 Who from death eternal frees us, 
 
 Yea, who life eternal gives ! 
 
 Spitta, tr. by R. Massie. 
 
 2078. JESUS. Work of 
 
 Jesus, the friend of humankind, 
 
 With strong compassion moved, 
 
 Descended, like a pitying God, 
 
 To save the souls He loved. 
 
 The powers of darkness leagued in vain I 
 To bind His soul in death ; 
 
 He shook their kingdom when He fell, 
 
 With His expiring breath. 
 
 Not long the toils of hell could keep 
 The Hope of Judah’s line; 
 
 Corruption never could take hold 
 On aught so much Divine. 
 
 And now His conquering chariot-wheels 
 Ascend the lofty skies ; 
 
 While, broke beneath His powerful cross, 
 
 Death’s iron sceptre lies. 
 
JEWS 
 
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 JOY 
 
 Exalted high at God’s right hand, 
 
 And Lord of all below, 
 
 Through Him is pardoning love dispensed, 
 
 And boundless blessings flow. 
 
 And still for erring, guilty man, 
 
 A brother’s pity flows ; 
 
 And still His bleeding heart is touch’d 
 With memory of our woes.— Barbaulrf. 
 
 2079. JEWS. Desolation of the 
 
 Oh ! weep for those that wept by Babel s stream, 
 Whose shrines are desolate, whose land a dream : 
 Weep for the harp of Judah’s broken shell; 
 
 Mourn—where their God hath dwelt the godless 
 
 dwell! 
 
 1 And where shall Israel lave her bleeding feet ? 
 
 And where shall Zion’s songs again seem sweet ? 
 
 And Judah’s melody once more rejoice 
 
 The hearts that leap’d before its heavenly voice ? 
 
 Tribes of the wandering foot and weary breast, 
 
 How shall ye flee away and be at lest. 
 
 The wild dove hath her nest, the fox his cave, 
 
 , Mankind their country— Israel but the grave ! 
 
 Byron. 
 
 2080. JEWS. Fate of the 
 
 Their glory faded, and their race dispeised, 
 
 The last of nations now, though once the first, 
 
 They warn and teach the proudest, would they learn, 
 ‘Keep wisdom, or meet vengeance in your turn; 
 
 If we escaped not, if Heaven spared not us, 
 
 Peel’d, scatter’d, and exterminated thus ; 
 
 I if Vice received her retribution due, 
 
 When we were visited, what hope for you ? ’ 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 2081. JEWS. Honour of the 
 
 Thrice happy nation ! Favourite of Heaven ! 
 Selected from the kingdoms of the earth 
 To be His chosen race, ordain’d to spread 
 1 His glory through remotest realms, and teach 
 
 The Gentile world Jehovah’s awful Name. 
 
 Hodson. 
 
 They, and they only, amongst all mankind, 
 Received the transcript of the Eternal Mind ; 
 Were trusted with His own engraven laws, 
 
 And constituted guardians of His cause ; 
 
 Theirs were the prophets, theirs the priestly call, 
 
 And theirs, by birth, the Saviour of us all. 
 
 Coioper. 
 
 2082. JEWS: scattered. 
 
 That people once 
 
 So famed, whom God Himself vouchsafed to call 
 His chosen race, and with a guardian hand 
 
 Deign’d to protect, from Palestine exiled, 
 
 Are doom’d to wander ; although scatter d thus 
 Through all the globe, there is no clime which they 
 Can call their own, no country where their laws 
 Hold sovereign rale. Irrefragable proof, 
 
 That every oracle of Holy Writ 
 Was given by Heaven itself ! Hayes. 
 
 2083. JOY. Aids to 
 
 Their lost they have, they hold ; from pain 
 A keener bliss they borrow. 
 
 How natural is joy, my heart ! 
 
 How easy after sorrow .—Jean Ingelow. 
 
 2084. J OY : alloyed. 
 
 2085. JOY. Cause for 
 
 So take Joy home, 
 
 And make a place in thy great heart for her, 
 
 And give her time to grow, and cherish her, 
 Then will she come, and oft will sing to thee, 
 When thou art working in the furrows ; ay, 
 
 Or weeding in the sacred hour of dawn. 
 
 It is a comely fashion to be glad— 
 
 Joy is the grace we say to God. 
 
 Art tired ? 
 
 There is a rest remaining. Hast thou sinn d ? 
 There is a Sacrifice. Lift up thy head, 
 
 The lovely world, and the over- world alike, 
 
 Ring with a song eterne, a happy rede, 
 
 ‘Thy Father loves thee .'—Jean Ingeloio.S 
 
 2086. JOY. Departed 
 
 Oh for the happy days gone by, 
 
 When love ran smooth and free,— 
 
 Days when my spirit so enjoy’d 
 More than earth’s liberty ! 
 
 Oh for the times when on my heart 
 Long prayer had never pall’d,— 
 Times when the ready thought of God 
 Would come when it was call’d ! 
 
 Then, when I knelt to meditate, 
 Sweet thoughts came o’er my soul, 
 Countless, and bright, and beautiful 
 Beyond all my control. 
 
 Wise Heaven doth see it as fit 
 In all our joys to give us some alloys, 
 
 As in our sorrows comforts: when our sails 
 Are fill’d with happiest winds, then we most need 
 Some heaviness to ballast us.— Fountain. 
 
Oh ! who hath lock’d those fountains up ? 
 
 Those visions who hath stay’d ? 
 
 What sudden act hath thus transform’d 
 My sunshine into shade ? 
 
 This freezing heart, O Lord ! this will, 
 
 Dry as the desert sand, 
 
 Good thoughts that will not come, bad thought: 
 That come without command,— 
 
 A faith that seems not faith, a hope 
 That cares not for its aim, 
 
 A love that none the hotter grows 
 At Jesus’ blessed Name 
 
 If this drear change be Thine, O Lord ! 
 
 If it be Thy sweet will, 
 
 Spare not, but to the very brim 
 The bitter chalice fill. 
 
 But if it hath been sin of mine, 
 
 Oh show that sin to me, 
 
 Not to get back the sweetness lost, 
 
 But to make peace with Thee.— Faber. 
 
 2087. JOY. Hours of 
 
 From the sad years of life 
 W e sometimes do short hours, yea, minutes, strike, 
 Keen, blissful, bright, never to be forgotten: 
 
 Which, through the dreary gloom of time o’erpast, 
 Shine like fair sunny spots on a wild waste. 
 
 Joanna Baillie. 
 
 2088. JOY : in Christ. 
 
 Come and rejoice with me ! 
 
 For once my heart was poor, 
 
 And I have found a treasury 
 Of love, a boundless store. 
 
 Come and rejoice with me ! 
 
 I, once so .sick at heart, 
 
 Have met with One who knows my case, 
 
 And knows the healing art. 
 
 Come and rejoice with me ! 
 
 For I was wearied sore, 
 
 And I have found a mighty arm 
 Which holds me evermore. 
 
 Come and rejoice with me! 
 
 My feet so wide did roam, 
 
 And One has sought me from afar, 
 
 And beareth me safe home. 
 
 Come and rejoice with me ! 
 
 For I have found a Friend, 
 
 Who knows my heart’s most secret depths, 
 
 Yet loves me without end. 
 
 I knew not of His love ; 
 
 Yet He had loved me long, 
 
 With love so faithful and so deep, 
 
 So tender and so strong. 
 
 And now I know it all, 
 
 Have heard and known His voice, 
 
 And hear it still from day to day;— 
 
 Can I enough rejoice? 
 
 2089. JOY : in God. 
 
 Since first Thy word awaked my heart, 
 Like new life dawning o’er me, 
 
 Where’er I turn mine eyes, Thou art 
 All light and love before me. 
 
 Nought else I feel or hear or see ; 
 
 All bonds of earth I sever ; 
 
 Thee, O God, and only Thee, 
 
 I live for now and ever ! 
 
 Like him whose fetters dropp’d away 
 When light shone o’er his prison, 
 
 My spirit, touch’d by mercy’s ray, 
 
 Hath from her chains arisen. 
 
 And shall a soul Thou bidst be free 
 Return to bondage? Never ! 
 
 Thee, O God, and only Thee, 
 
 I live for now and ever!— Moore. 
 
 2090. JOY. Mixture of 
 
 There is no joy unmix’d with grief— 
 
 Each garden has more weeds than flowers— 
 Care rides upon the winged hours, 
 
 And doubt for ever haunts belief. 
 
 Y e stop to pluck some beauteous flower, 
 
 And cold precaution idly scorn, 
 
 To find some sharp and hidden thorn 
 Exacts a forfeit for the dower. 
 
 There have been tears of wormwood shed, 
 
 For every pleasure life can bring; 
 
 The joys of earth are flowers that spring 
 From out the ashes of the dead .—Dezvart. 
 
 2091. JOY : springs from within. 
 
 Joy dwells not in external things, 
 
 It hath an inner birth; 
 
 The sweetest bird in darkness sings, 
 
 And fairest flowers oft nurture stings,— 
 
 Such is our life on earth. 
 
 Then measure not by outward show 
 The depth of real joy ; 
 
 The heart can o’er the darkest woe 
 A stream of sunlight softly throw, 
 
 Or purest bliss destroy.— Brock. 
 
JOY 
 
 407 
 
 JUDGING 
 
 2092. JOY : tiresome. 
 
 Joys are not joys, that always stay : 
 And constant pleasures don’t delight, but cloy. 
 
 Brome. 
 
 2093. JOY : to be found everywhere. 
 
 There is no state, in which the bounteous gods 
 Have not placed joy, if men would seek it out. 
 
 Crown . 
 
 2094. JOY : transient. 
 
 How fading are the joys we dote upon! 
 
 Like apparitions seen and gone ; 
 
 But those which soonest take their flight 
 Are the most exquisite and strong ; 
 
 Like angels’ visits, short and bright, 
 Mortality’s too weak to bear them long. 
 
 Norris 
 
 2095. JOY : unutterable. 
 
 I CANNOT speak, tears so obstruct my words, 
 And choke me with unutterable joy. — Otway. 
 
 Indeed true gladness doth not always speak ; 
 
 * Joy bred and born but in the tongue is weak. 
 
 Jonson, 
 
 Fortunate and exploring, as envy 
 Itself cannot accuse, or malice vitiate. 
 
 Chapman. 
 
 What can Innocence hope for 
 When such as sit her judges are corrupted ? 
 
 Massinger. 
 
 With an equal scale 
 
 He weighs the offences betwixt man and man ; 
 
 He is not soothed with adulation, 
 
 Nor moved with tears, to wrest the course of justice 
 Into an unjust current, t’ oppress the innocent; 
 
 Nor does he make the laws 
 
 Punish the man, but in the man the cause. 
 
 Swetnam. 
 
 \ 
 
 To follow foolish precedents, and wink 
 With both our eyes, is easier than to think. 
 
 Coivper. 
 
 2098. JUDGING. Rules for 
 
 Know’ST with an equal hand to hold the scale, 
 See’st where the reasons pinch, and where they fail, 
 And where exceptions o’er the general rule prevail. 
 
 Dryden. \ 
 
 2096. JOY. Virtuous 
 
 Virtue alone can give true joy ; 
 
 The sweets of virtue never cloy : 
 
 To take delight in doing good, 
 
 In justice, truth, and gratitude, 
 
 In aiding those whom cares oppress, 
 Administering comfort to distress : 
 
 These, these are joys which all who prove 
 Anticipate the bliss above ; 
 
 These are the joys, and these alone, 
 
 We ne’er repent or wish undone. 
 
 2097. JUDGES. 
 
 He who the sword of heaven will bear 
 Should be as holy as severe; 
 
 Pattern in himself to know, 
 
 Grace to stand, and virtue go.— Shakespeare. 
 
 When a man’s life is in debate, 
 
 The judge can ne’er too long deliberate. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 A judge—a man so learned, 
 
 So full of equity, so noble, so notable ; 
 
 In the process of his life so innocent; 
 
 In the manage of his office so incorrupt; 
 
 In the passages of state so wise ; in 
 Affection of his country so religious ; 
 
 In all his services to the king so 
 
 Let none direct thee what to do or say, 
 
 Till thee thy judgment of the matter sway : 
 
 Let not the pleasing many thee delight; 
 
 First judge, if those whom thou dost please, judge 
 right. — Denham. 
 
 How little do they see what is, who frame 
 Their hasty judgment upon that which seems! 
 
 Southey. 
 
 Rashly, nor ofttimes truly, doth man pass judgment 
 on his brother ; 
 
 For he seeth not the springs of the heart, norheareth 
 the reasons of the mind. 
 
 And the world is not wiser than of old, when justice 
 was meted by the sword, 
 
 When the spear avenged the wrong, and the lot de¬ 
 cided the right, 
 
 When the footsteps of blindfold innocence were 
 tracked by burning ploughshares, 
 
 And the still, condemning water delivered up the 
 wizard to the stake : 
 
 For we wait, like the sage of Salamis, to see what 
 the end will be, 
 
 Fixing the right or the wrong by the issues of failure 
 or success. 
 
 Judge not of things by their events; neither of 
 character by providence ; 
 
 And count not a man more evil, because he is more 
 unfortunate; 
 
JUDGMENT 
 
 408 
 
 JUDGMENT 
 
 For the blessings of a better covenant lie not in the 
 sunshine of prosperity, 
 
 But pain and chastisement the rather show the wise 
 Father’s love.— Tupper. 
 
 2099. JUDGMENT. Book of 
 
 Almighty Judge, how shall poor wretches brook 
 The dreadful look, 
 
 Able a heart of iron to appal, 
 
 When Thou shalt call 
 For every man’s peculiar book ? 
 
 What others mean to do, I know not well; 
 
 Yet I hear tell, 
 
 That some will turn Thee to some leaves therein 
 So void of sin, 
 
 That they in merit shall excel. 
 
 But I resolve, when Thou shalt call for mine, 
 
 That to decline, 
 
 And thrust a Testament into Thy hand : 
 
 Let that be scann’d. 
 
 There Thou shalt find my faults are Thine. 
 
 Herbert. 
 
 2100. JUDGMENT. Day of 
 
 On death and judgment, heaven and hell, 
 
 Who oft doth think, must needs die well. 
 
 Sir IV. Raleigh. 
 
 Till the day 
 
 Appear of respiration to the just, 
 
 And vengeance to the wicked.— Milton. 
 
 Forthwith the cited dead, 
 
 Of all past ages, to the general doom 
 Shall hasten.— Milton. 
 
 Nor custom, nor example, nor vast numbers 
 Of such as do offend, make less the sin ; 
 
 For each particular crime a strict account 
 Will be exacted ; and that comfort which 
 The damn’d pretend follows in misery, 
 
 Takes nothing from their torments : every one 
 Must suffer in himself the measure of 
 His wickedness. — Massinger. 
 
 May the scene 
 
 Of that dread day be always present here— 
 
 Here in my heart! That every day between, 
 
 Which brings my passage to the goal more near, 
 May find me fitter, by His love made clean, 
 
 Before His throne of justice to appear.— Riant. 
 
 2101. JUDGMENT. Delay of 
 
 God’s ways seem dark, but, soon or late, 
 
 They touch the shining hills of day. 
 
 The evil cannot brook delay; 
 
 The good can well afford to wait. — Whittier. 
 
 2102. JUDGMENT (Discretion). 
 
 Blest are those 
 
 Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled 
 That they are not a pipe for Fortune’s finger 
 To sound what stop she please.— Shakespeare. 
 
 His years but young, but his experience old ; 
 
 His head unmellow’d, but his judgment ripe. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 2103. JUDGMENT : forestalled. 
 
 Great Day ! for which all other days were made ; 
 For which earth rose from chaos, man from earth ; 
 And an eternity, the date of gods, 
 
 Descended on poor earth-created man ! 
 
 Great Day of dread, decision, and despair ! 
 
 At thought of thee, each sublunary wish 
 Lets go its eager grasp and drops the world ; 
 
 And catches at each reed of hope in heaven. 
 
 Already is begun the grand assize 
 In thee, in all. Deputed conscience scales 
 The dread tribunal, and forestalls our doom. 
 Forestalls—and by forestalling proves it sure. 
 
 Why on himself should man void judgment pass? 
 
 Is idle Nature laughing at her sons? 
 
 Who Conscience sent her sentence will support; 
 And God above assert that God in man. 
 
 Thrice happy they that enter now the court 
 Heaven opens in their bosoms.— Young. 
 
 2104. JUDGMENT : of the crowd. 
 
 Men’s judgments sway on that side fortune leans. 
 
 Chapman. 
 
 His be the praise, who, looking down in scorn 
 On the false judgment of the partial herd, 
 Consults his own clear heart, and nobly dares 
 To be, not to be thought, an honest man. 
 
 Cumberland. 
 
 2105. JUDGMENT. Power of 
 
 ’Tis with our judgments as our watches, none 
 Go just alike, yet each believes his own. 
 
 Yet if we look more closely, we shall find 
 Most have the seeds of judgment in their mind : 
 Nature affords at least a glimmering light ; 
 
 The lines, though touch’d but faintly, are drawn 
 right. — Pope. 
 
 2106. JUDGMENT. Revelation of 
 
 The Book is open’d and the seal removed ; 
 
 The adamantine Book ; where every thought, 
 Though dawning on the heart, then sunk again 
 In the corrupted mass, each act obscure, 
 
 In characters indelible remain. 
 
JUDGMENT 
 
 409 
 
 JUST 
 
 How vain thy boast, vile caitiff, to have scaped 
 An earthly forum ; now, thy crimson stains 
 Glare on a congregated world ; thy Judge 
 Omniscience, and Omnipotence thy scourge ! 
 
 Thy mask, hypocrisy, how useless here, 
 
 When, by a beam shot from the Fount of light, 
 
 The varnish’d saint starts up a ghastly fiend.— Bally. 
 
 2107. JUDGMENT. Summons to the final 
 
 The Day is near, the judgment is at hand . 
 
 Awake, my soul! awake, and ready stand ! 
 
 Where chiefs shall go with them that fill’d the throne, 
 Where rich and poor the same tribunal own ; 
 
 And every thought and deed 
 Shall find its righteous meed. 
 
 There with the sheep the Shepherd of the fold 
 Shall stand together ; there the young and old, 
 Master and slave, one doom shall undergo ; 
 
 Widow and maiden one tribunal know : 
 
 Oh, woe, oh, woe, to them 
 Whom lawless lives condemn ! 
 
 That Judgment-seat, impartial in decree, 
 
 Accepts no bribe, admits no subtilty : 
 
 No orator persuasion may exert, 
 
 No perjured witness wrong to right convert ; 
 
 But all things, hid in night, 
 
 Shall then be dragg’d to light. 
 
 St Theodore of the Studium, tr. by J. M. Neale. 
 
 2108. JUDGMENT : to be left to God. 
 
 J UDGE not ! the workings of his brain 
 And of his heart thou canst not see ; 
 
 What looks to thy dim eyes a stain, 
 
 In God’s pure light may only be 
 A scar, brought from some well-won field, 
 Where thou wouldst only faint and yield. 
 
 The look, the air, that frets thy sight, 
 
 May be a token that below 
 The soul has closed in deadly fight 
 With some infernal, fiery foe, 
 
 Whose glance would scorch thy smiling grace, 
 And cast thee shuddering on thy face ! 
 
 The fall thou darest to despise, 
 
 May-be the angel’s slacken’d hand 
 Has suffer’d it, that he may rise 
 And take a firmer, surer stand ; 
 
 Or, trusting less to earthly things, 
 
 May henceforth learn to use his wings. 
 
 And judge none lost ; but wait and see, 
 
 With hopeful pity, not disdain : 
 
 The depth of the abyss may be 
 The measure of the height of pain, 
 
 And love, and glory, that may raise 
 This soul to God in after days ! 
 
 Adelaide Anne Procter. 
 
 2109. JUDGMENT. Unavoidable 
 
 From Adam to his youngest heir, 
 
 Not one shall ’scape that muster-roll ; 
 
 Each, as if he alone were there, 
 
 Shall stand, and win or lose his soul: 
 
 These from the Judge’s presence go 
 Down into everlasting woe ; 
 
 Vengeance hath barr’d the gates of hell • 
 
 The scenes within no tongue can tell. 
 
 But lo ! far off, the righteous pass 
 
 To glory ; from the King’s right hand, 
 
 In silence, on the sea of glass, 
 
 Heaven’s numbers without number stand, 
 
 While He who bore the cross lays down 
 His priestly robe and victor crown ; 
 
 The mediatorial reign complete, 
 
 All things are put beneath His feet .—Montgomery. 
 
 2110. JUST. Courage of the 
 
 A JUST man cannot fear, 
 
 Not, though the malice of traducing tongues, 
 
 The open vastness of a tyrant’s ear, 
 
 The senseless rigour of the wrested laws, 
 
 Or the red eyes of strain’d authority, 
 
 Should in a point meet all to take his life, 
 
 His innocence is armour ’gainst all thes e.—Jonson. 
 
 When men’s intents are wicked, their guilt haunts 
 them; 
 
 But when they’re just they’re arm’d, and nothing 
 daunts them. — Middleton. 
 
 2111. JUST. Deathofthe 
 
 When to the common rest that crowns our days, 
 Call’d in the noon of life, the good man goes, 
 
 Or full of years, and ripe in wisdom, lays 
 His silver temples in their last repose ; 
 
 When, o’er the buds of youth, the death-wind blows 
 And blights the fairest; when our bitter tears 
 Stream, as the eyes of those that love us close, 
 
 We think on what they were, with many fears 
 Lest goodness die with them, and leave the coming 
 years. 
 
 But oh, despair not of their fate who rise 
 
 To dwell upon the earth when we withdraw ! 
 
 Lo ! the same shaft by which the righteous dies, 
 Strikes through the wretch that scoff d at mercy s 
 law, 
 
 And trod his brethren down, and felt no awe 
 
JUST 
 
 410 
 
 JUSTICE 
 
 Of Him who will avenge them. Stainless worth, 
 Such as the sternest age of virtue saw, 
 
 Ripens, meanwhile,' till time shall call it forth 
 From the low modest shade, to light and bless the 
 earth. — Bryant. 
 
 2112. JUST. Memory of the 
 
 Peace to the just man’s memory,—let it grow 
 Greener with years, and blossom through the flight 
 Of ages ; let the mimic canvas show 
 
 His calm benevolent features ; let the light 
 Stream on his deeds of love, that shunn’d the sight 
 Of all but heaven, and, in the book of fame, 
 
 The glorious record of his virtues write, 
 
 And hold it up to men, and bid them claim 
 A palm like his, and catch from him the hallow’d 
 flame. — Bryant. 
 
 As ’mid the ever-rolling sea 
 The eternal isles establish’d be, 
 
 ’Gainst which the billows of the main 
 Fret, rage, and break themselves in vain ; 
 
 As in the heavens the urns divine 
 Of golden light for ever shine ; 
 
 Though clouds may darken, storms may rage, 
 They still shine on from age to age ; 
 
 So, through the ocean-tide of years, 
 
 The memory of the just appears ; 
 
 So, through the tempest and the gloom, 
 
 The good man’s virtues light the tomb. 
 
 2113. JUST. Reward of the 
 
 This is true glory and renown, when God, 
 
 Looking on the earth, with approbation marks 
 The just man, and divulges him through heaven 
 To all his angels, who with true applause 
 Recount his praises.— Milton. 
 
 % 
 
 God will deign 
 
 To visit oft the dwellings of just men 
 Delighted.— Milton. 
 
 The just shall dwell, 
 
 And, after all their tribulations long, 
 
 See golden days fruitful of golden deeds. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 2114. JUST. Safety of the 
 
 What stronger breast-plate than a heart untainted? 
 Thrice is he arm’d who hath his quarrel just, 
 
 And he but naked, though lock’d up in steel, 
 
 Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 2115. JUST : to whom the title belongs. 
 
 All are not just because they do no wrong ; 
 
 But he who will not wrong me when he may. 
 
 He is the truly just.— Cumberland. 
 
 2116. JUST. Wisdom of the 
 
 The man that’s resolute and just, 
 
 Firm to his principles and trust, 
 
 Nor hopes nor fears can blind.— Walsh. 
 
 2H7. JUSTICE. Course of 
 
 If this great world of joy and pain 
 Revolve in one sure track ; 
 
 If freedom, set, will rise again, 
 
 And virtue, flown, come back; 
 
 Woe to the purblind crew who fill 
 The heart with each day’s care ; 
 
 Nor gain, from past to future, skill 
 
 To bear, and to forbear!— Wordsivorth. 
 
 2118. JUSTICE. Delay of 
 
 The Sun of Justice may withdraw his beams 
 Awhile from earthly ken, and sit conceal’d 
 In dark recess, pavilion’d round with clouds : 
 
 Yet let not Guilt presumptuous rear her crest, 
 
 Nor Virtue droop despondent: soon these clouds, 
 Seeming eclipse, will brighten into day, 
 
 And in majestic splendour He will rise, 
 
 With healing and with terror on His wings.— Bally. 
 
 2119. JUSTICE. Divine 
 
 In the corrupted currents of this world, 
 
 Offence’s gilded hand may shove by justice : 
 
 And oft ’tis seen, the wicked prize itself 
 Buys out the law. But ’tis not so above : 
 
 There is no shuffling, there the action lies 
 In its nature; and we ourselves compell’d, 
 
 Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults, 
 
 To give in evidence.— Shakespeare. 
 
 2120. JUSTICE : for what purpose it should be 
 
 dispensed. 
 
 Justice, like lightning, ever should appear 
 To few men’s ruin, but to all men’s fear. 
 
 Swetnam. 
 
 2121. JUSTICE. Human 
 
 Justice, when equal scales she holds, is blind, 
 
 Nor cruelty nor mercy change her mind : 
 
 When some escape for that which others die, 
 
 Mercy to those, to these is cruelty. 
 
 A fine and slender net the spider weaves 
 Which little and slight animals receives ; 
 
JUSTICE 
 
 KINDNESS 
 
 411 
 
 And if she catch a summer bee or fly, 
 
 They with a piteous groan and murmur die ; 
 
 But if a wasp or hornet she entrap, 
 
 They tear her cords, like Samson, and escape: 
 
 So like a fly, the poor offender dies ; 
 
 But like the wasp the rich escapes and flies. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 2122. JUSTICE : indispensable to nobility of 
 
 character. 
 
 Of all virtues justice is the best; 
 
 Valour without it is a common pest . — Waller. 
 
 2123. JUSTICE : must be administered im¬ 
 
 partially. 
 
 My secret wishes would my choice decide ; 
 
 But open justice bends to neither side. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 2124. JUSTICE : must be resolutely adhered to. 
 
 The man resolved, and steady to his trust, 
 Inflexible to ill, and obstinately just. 
 
 Can the rude rabble’s influence despise. 
 
 Addison. 
 
 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. 
 
 2125. JUSTICE : must be tempered with mercy. 
 
 Justice must punish the rebellious deed ; 
 
 Yet punish so, as pity shall exceed.— Dry den. 
 
 He who is only just is cruel:—who 
 
 Upon the earth would live, were all judged justly? 
 
 Byron. 
 
 2126. JUSTICE. None escape from 
 
 Ay, Justice, who evades her? 
 
 Her scales reach every heart; 
 
 The action and the motive, 
 
 She weigheth each apart; 
 
 And none who swerve from right or truth 
 Can ’scape her penalty !—Mrs Hale. 
 
 2127. JUSTICE: sacred. 
 
 Nought is on earth more sacred or divine, 
 
 That gods and men do equally adore 
 Than this same virtue, that doth right define ; 
 
 For th’ heavens themselves, whence mortal men 
 implore 
 
 Right in their wrongs, are ruled by righteous lore 
 
 Of highest Jove, who doth true justice deal 
 To his inferior gods ; and evermore 
 Therewith contains his heavenly commonweal : 
 
 The skill whereof to princes’ hearts he doth reveal. 
 
 Spenser. 
 
 2128. JUSTICE: should be dispensed promptly. 
 
 The gods 
 
 Grow angry with your patience : ’tis their care, 
 
 And must be yours, that guilty men escape not : 
 
 As crimes do grow, justice should rouse itself. 
 
 Jonson. 
 
 Causes unjudged disgrace the loaded file, 
 
 And sleeping laws the king’s neglect revile.— Prior. 
 
 2129. JUSTICE: should be the especial care of 
 
 kings. 
 
 Whoso upon himself will take the skill 
 True justice unto people to divide, 
 
 I Has need have mighty hands for to fulfil 
 
 That which he doth with righteous doom decide, 
 And for to maister wrong and puissant pride; 
 
 For vain it is to deem of things aright, 
 
 And make wrong-doers justice to deride, 
 
 Unless it be perform’d with dreadless might; 
 
 For power is the right hand of justice truely hight. 
 
 Spenser. 
 
 If but one virtue did adorn a king, 
 
 It would be justice ; many great defects 
 I Are veil’d thereby : whereas each virtuous thing 
 j In one who is not just, the world suspects. 
 
 Earl of Stirling. 
 
 Justice is their virtue : that alone 
 Makes them sit sure, and glorifies the throne. 
 
 Daniel. 
 
 To send the injured unredress’d away, 
 
 How great soe’er the offender, and the wrong’d 
 Howe’er obscure, is wicked, weak, and vile, 
 
 J Degrades, defiles, and should dethrone a king. 
 
 Smollett. 
 
 2130. JUSTICE. Triumph of 
 
 Whoever fights, whoever falls, 
 
 Justice conquers evermore, 
 
 Justice after as before ; 
 
 And he who battles on her side, 
 
 God, though he were ten times slain, 
 
 Crowns him victor glorified— 
 
 Victor over death and pain, 
 
 For ever.— Emerson. 
 
 2131. KINDNESS. Blessing of 
 
 A LITTLE word in kindness spoken, 
 
 A motion, or a tear, 
 
KINDNESS 
 
 412 
 
 KINDNESS 
 
 Has often heal’d the heart that’s broken, 
 
 And made a friend sincere. 
 
 A word—a look—has crush’d to earth 
 Full many a budding flower, 
 
 Which, had a smile but own’d its birth, 
 
 Would bless life’s darkest hour. 
 
 Then deem it not an idle thing 
 A pleasant word to speak ; 
 
 The face you wear, the thought you bring, 
 
 A heart may heal or break.— Whittier. 
 
 2132. KINDNESS. Demand for 
 
 The world’s a room of sickness, where each heart 
 Knows its own anguish and unrest ! 
 
 The truest wisdom there, and noblest art, 
 
 Is this, who skills of comfort best; 
 
 Whom by the softest step and gentlest tone 
 Enfeebled spirits own, 
 
 And love to raise the languid eye 
 When, like an angel’s wing, they feel him fleeting by. 
 
 Keble. 
 
 2133. KINDNESS. Domestic 
 
 Be kind to thy father, for when thou wast young, 
 Who loved thee so fondly as he ? 
 
 He caught the first accents that fell from thy tongue, 
 And join’d in thy innocent glee : 
 
 Be kind to thy father, for now he is old, 
 
 His locks intermingled with grey ; 
 
 His footsteps are feeble—once fearless and bold : 
 
 Thy father is passing away. 
 
 Be kind to thy mother, for lo ! on her brow 
 May traces of sorrow be seen ; 
 
 Oh! well mayst thou cherish and comfort her now, 
 For loving and kind she hath been : 
 
 Remember thy mother ! for thee will she pray, 
 
 As long as God giveth her breath ; 
 
 With accents of kindness, then, cheer her lone way, 
 E’en to the dark valley of death. 
 
 Be kind to thy brother ! his heart will have dearth 
 If the smiles of thy joy be withdrawn ; 
 
 The flowers of feeling will fade at the birth. 
 
 If love and affection be gone. 
 
 Be kind to thy brother, wherever you are ; 
 
 The love of a brother shall be 
 An ornament purer and richer, by far, 
 
 Than pearls fi-om the depths of the sea. 
 
 Be kind to thy sister ! not many may know 
 The depth of true sisterly love ; 
 
 1 he wealth of the ocean lies fathoms below 
 d he surface that sparkles above : 
 
 1 hy kindness shall bring to thee many sweet hours, 
 And blessings thy pathway shall crown ; 
 Affection shall weave thee a garland of flowers, 
 More precious than wealth or renown. 
 
 2134. KINDNESS. Duty of 
 
 ’TlS the first sanction nature gave to man, 
 
 Each other to assist in what they can. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 Be kind to each other ! 
 
 The night’s coming on, 
 
 When friend and when brother 
 Perchance may be gone ! 
 
 Then ’midst our dejection 
 How sweet to have earn’d 
 The blest recollection 
 Of kindness— return’d ! 
 
 When day hath departed, 
 
 And Memory keeps 
 Her watch, broken-hearted, 
 
 Where all she loved sleeps! 
 
 Let falsehood assail not, 
 
 Nor envy disprove; 
 
 Let trifles prevail not 
 Against those ye love ! 
 
 Nor change with to-morrow 
 Should fortune take wing; 
 
 But the deeper the sorrow 
 The closer still cling ! 
 
 Oh, be kind to each other ! 
 
 The night’s coming on, 
 
 When friend and when brother 
 Perchance may be gone ! 
 
 Charles Swain. 
 
 2135. KINDNESS. Glory of 
 
 The drying up a single tear has more 
 
 Of honest fame than shedding seas of gore.— Byron. 
 
 2136. KINDNESS. Law of 
 
 I would not enter on my list of friends 
 (Though graced with polish’d manners and fine sense, 
 Yet wanting sensibility) the man 
 Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm. 
 
 An inadvertent step may crush the snail 
 That crawls at evening in the public path ; 
 
 But he that has humanity, forewarn’d, 
 
 Will tread aside, and let the reptile live. 
 
 The creeping vermin, loathsome to the sight, 
 
 And charged perhaps with venom, that intrudes, 
 
 A visitor unwelcome, into scenes 
 Sacred to neatness and repose, the alcove, 
 
 The chamber, or refectory, may die : 
 
KINDNESS 
 
 4i3 
 
 KINDNESS 
 
 A necessary act incurs no blame. 
 
 Not so when, held within their proper bounds, 
 
 And guiltless of offence, they range the aii, 
 
 Or take their pastime in the spacious field : 
 
 There they are privileged ; and he that hunts 
 Or harms them there is guilty of a wrong, 
 
 Disturbs the economy of Nature’s realm, 
 
 Who, when she form’d, design’d them an abode. 
 
 The sum is this : If man’s convenience, health, 
 
 Or safety interfere, his rights and claims 
 Are paramount, and must extinguish theirs. 
 
 Else they are all—the meanest things that are— 
 
 As free to live, and to enjoy that life, 
 
 As God was free to form them at the first, 
 
 Who in His sovereign wisdom made them all. 
 
 Ye, therefore, who love mercy, teach your sons 
 To love it too. — Cowper. 
 
 2137. KINDNESS. Power of 
 
 What thou wilt, 
 
 Thou rather shalt enforce it with thy smile, 
 
 Than hew to’t with thy sword.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Kindness in women, not their beauteous looks, 
 
 Shall win my love.— Shakespeare. 
 
 What would you have ? your gentleness shall force 
 More than your force move us to gentleness. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Kindness has resistless charms ; 
 
 All things else but weakly move ; 
 
 Fiercest anger it disarms, 
 
 And clips the wings of flying love. 
 
 Earl of Rochester. 
 
 A willing heart adds feather to the heel, 
 
 And makes the clown a winged Mercury. 
 
 Joanna Baillte. 
 
 —If a soul thou wouldst redeem, 
 
 And lead a lost one back to God ;— 
 Wouldst thou a guardian-angel seem 
 To one who long in guilt hath trod, 
 
 Go kindly to him—take his hand, 
 
 With gentlest words, within thine own, 
 
 And by his side a brother stand, 
 
 Till all the demons thou dethrone. 
 
 Mrs Sawyer. 
 
 2138. KINDNESS. Retrospect of 
 
 The poorest poor 
 
 Long for some moments in a weary life, 
 
 When they can know and feel that they have been 
 Themselves the fathers and the dealers out 
 Of some small blessings—have been kind 
 To such as needed kindness j for this single cause, 
 That we have all of us a human heart. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 2139. KINDNESS. Reward of 
 
 Androcles from his injured lord, in dread 
 Of instant death, to Libya’s desert fled. 
 
 Tired with his toilsome flight, and parch’d with heat, 
 He spied, at length, a cavern’s cool retreat : 
 
 But scarce had given to rest his weary frame, 
 
 When, hugest of his kind, a lion came : 
 
 He roar’d approaching ; but the savage din 
 To plaintive murmurs changed, arrived within, 
 
 And with expressive looks his lifted paw 
 Presenting, aid implored from whom he saw. 
 
 The fugitive, through terror at a stand, 
 
 Dared not awhile afford his trembling hand, 
 
 But bolder grown, at length inherent found 
 A pointed thorn, and drew it from the wound. 
 
 The cure was wrought ; he wiped the sanious blood, 
 And firm and free from pain the lion stood ; 
 
 Again he seeks the wilds, and day by day 
 Regales his inmate with the parted prey. 
 
 Nor he disdains the dole, though unprepared, 
 
 Spread on the ground, and with a lion shared. 
 
 But thus to live—still lost—sequestei d still 
 Scarce seem’d his lord’s revenge a heavier ill. 
 
 Home ! native home ! Oh might he but repair! 
 
 He must—he will, though death attends him there. 
 He goes, and, doom’d to perish on the sands 
 Of the full theatre, unpitied stands ; 
 
 When lo ! the self-same lion from his cage 
 Flies to devour him, famish’d into rage, 
 
 He flies, but viewing in his purposed prey 
 The man his healer, pauses on his way, 
 
 And soften’d by remembrance into sweet 
 And kind composure, crouches at his feet. 
 
 Mute with astonishment the assembly gaze . 
 
 But why, ye Romans? Whence your mute amaze ? 
 All this is natural—Nature bade him rend 
 An enemy ; she bids him spare a friend.— Cowper. 
 
 2140. KINDNESS : should be showed to the living, 
 
 not reserved for the dead. 
 
 Upon my bier no flowers lay 
 To shrivel at death’s icy touch ; 
 
 One pansied thought bequeathed to-day 
 Were worth a thousand such! 
 
 Such gifts too often serve the pride 
 Which grants them—nought beside. 
 
 No lavish tears that laggard be 
 Pour vainly on my pulseless clay ; 
 
 A single drop of sympathy 
 Were richer boon to-day ; 
 
 To-day I need it—but, thank God, 
 
 No need is in the sod. 
 
KINGS 
 
 414 
 
 KINGS 
 
 Yield now the sign, or let me go 
 Unlaurel’d into waiting space ; 
 
 Not taunted by a hollow show 
 Of friendship’s tardy grace ; 
 
 Not mock'd by fruits that would not fall 
 Save as an idle pall. 
 
 Fair blossoms with love’s homage wet 
 And fondly laid in precious hands, 
 
 Must hold the grateful spirit yet 
 While wandering in strange lands ; 
 
 But wounded souls the meed must spurn 
 That only Death can earn.— Mary B. Dodge. 
 
 2141. KINGS. Adulation of 
 
 There like a statue thou hast stood besieged 
 By sycophants and fools, the growth of courts, 
 Where thy gull'd eyes, in all the gaudy round, 
 Met nothing but a lie in every face ; 
 
 And the gross flattery of a gaping crowd. 
 Envious who first shall catch and first applaud 
 The stuff, or royal nonsense.— Dry den. 
 
 A prince, the moment he is crown’d, 
 Inherits every virtue round, 
 
 As emblems of the sovereign power 
 Like other baubles in the Tower; 
 
 Is generous, valiant, just, and wise, 
 
 And so continues till he dies ; 
 
 His humble senate this professes, 
 
 In all their speeches, votes, addresses. 
 
 But once you fix him in a tomb, 
 
 His virtues fade, his vices bloom ; 
 
 And each perfection wrong imputed, 
 
 Is fully at his death confuted.— Swift. 
 
 2142. KINGS : are but men. 
 
 Cover your heads, and mock not flesh and blood 
 With solemn rev’rence ; throw away respect, 
 
 1 radition, form, and ceremonious duty, 
 h or you have but mistook me all this while : 
 
 I live on bread like you, feel want like you, 
 
 I aste grief, need friends, like you : subjected thus, 
 How can you say to me—I am a king? 
 
 Shakesfeare. 
 
 Unbounded power and height of greatness give 
 To kings that lustre which we think divine ; 
 
 The wise, who know ’em, know they are but men ; 
 Kay, sometimes weak ones too. The crowd, indeed, 
 Who kneel befoi the image, not the god, 
 
 Worship the deity their hands have made.— Rowe. 
 
 We too are friends to loyalty. We love 
 
 The king who loves the law, respects his bounds, 
 
 And reigns content within them. Him we serve 
 Fieely and with delight, who leaves us free. 
 
 But recollecting still that he is man, 
 
 We trust him not too far .—Cowper. 
 
 21 43 * KINGS : are not to be envied. 
 
 Uneasv lies the head that wears a crown. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 What infinite heart’s ease must kings neglect 
 That private men enjoy ! 
 
 And what have kings that privates have not too, 
 Save ceremony, save general ceremony ? 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Piinces have but their titles for their glories, 
 
 An outward honour for an inward toil; 
 
 And for unfelt imaginations 
 
 They often feel a world of restless cares: 
 
 So that between their title and low name 
 There’s nothing differs but the outward fame. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 A crown, 
 
 Golden in show, is but a wreath of thorns ; 
 
 Brings dangers, troubles, cares, and sleepless nights, 
 To him who wears the regal diadem.— Milton. 
 
 We view the outward glories of a crown ; 
 
 But, dazzled with the lustre, cannot see 
 
 The thorns that line it, and whose painful pricklings 
 
 Embitter all the pompous sweets of empire. 
 
 Happier the wretch, who, at his daily toils, 
 
 Sweats for his homely dinner, than a king 
 In all the dangerous pomp of royalty ! 
 le knows no fears of state to damp his joys ; 
 
 No treason shakes the humble bed he lies on ! 
 
 Nor dreads the poison in his peaceful bowls !— Hill. 
 
 O Royalty ! what joys hast thou to boast, 
 
 To recompense thy cares ? Ambition seems 
 1 he passion of a god. Yet from my throne 
 Have I with envy seen the naked slave 
 Rejoicing in the music of his chains, 
 
 And singing toil away ; and then at eve 
 Returning peaceful to his couch of rest : 
 
 Whilst I sat anxious and perplex’d with cares; 
 Projecting, plotting, fearful of events: 
 
 Or, like a wounded snake, lay down and writhed, 
 The sleepless night, upon a bed of state.— Dowe. 
 
 What is a king ?—a man condemn’d to bear 
 The public burthen of the nation’s care ; 
 
 Now crown’d, some angry faction to appease ; 
 
 Now falls a victim to the people’s ease : 
 
 From the first blooming of his ill-taught youth, 
 
 K ourish d in flattery, and estranged from truth, 
 
KINGS 
 
 4i5 
 
 KINGS 
 
 At home surrounded by a servile crowd, 
 
 Prompt to abuse, and in detraction loud ; 
 
 Abroad begirt with men, and swords, and spears, 
 
 His very state acknowledging his fears; 
 
 Marching amidst a thousand guards, he shows 
 His secret terror of a thousand foes: 
 
 In war, however prudent, great, or brave, 
 
 To blind events and fickle chance a slave ; 
 
 Seeking to settle what for ever flies, 
 
 Sure of the toil, uncertain of the prize.— Prior. 
 
 The vulgar call us gods, and fondly think, 
 
 That kings are cast in more than mortal moulds : 
 
 Alas ! they little know that when the mind 
 Is cloy’d with pomp, our taste is pall’d to joy, 
 
 But grows more sensible to grief and pain. 
 
 The stupid peasant with as quick a sense 
 Enjoys the fragrance of the rose as I; 
 
 And his rough hand is proof against the thorn, 
 
 Which, rankling in my tender skin, would seem 
 A viper’s tooth.— Fenton. 
 
 A crown ! what is it ? 
 
 It is to bear the miseries of a people ! 
 
 To hear their murmurs, feel their discontent, 
 
 And sink beneath a load of splendid care ! 
 
 To have your best success ascribed to fortune, 
 
 And fortune’s failures all ascribed to you 
 It is to sit upon a joyless height, 
 
 To every blast of changing fate exposed ! 
 
 Too high for hope ! too great for happiness! 
 
 Hannah More. 
 
 Kings are like stars—they rise and set—they have 
 The worship of the world, but no repose. 
 
 Shelley. 
 
 Ill do you know the spectral forms that wait 
 Upon a king ; Care with his furrow’d brow, 
 Unsleeping watchfulness, lone secrecy, 
 
 Attend his throne by day, his couch by night. 
 
 Lord John Russell. 
 
 Oh, covet not the throne and crown, 
 
 Sigh not for rule and state: 
 
 The wise would fling the sceptre down, 
 
 And shun the palace gate. 
 
 Ye lowly born, oh, covet not 
 Unrest the sceptre brings ; 
 
 The honest name and peaceful lot 
 
 Outweigh the pomp of kings.— Eliza Cook. 
 
 2144. KINGS: difference between kings and 
 tyrants. 
 
 Twixt kings and tyrants there’s this difference 
 known,— 
 
 Kings seek their subjects’ good, tyrants their own. 
 
 Herrick. 
 
 2145. KINGS. Example of 
 
 Kings, by their example, more do sway 
 Than by their power ; and men do more obey 
 When they are led, than when they are compell d. 
 
 Jons on. 
 
 Princes that would their people should do well, 
 Must at themselves begin, as at the head ; 
 
 For men, by their example, pattern out 
 Their imitations and regard of laws : 
 
 A virtuous court a world to virtue draws.— Jonson. 
 
 From the monarch’s virtue subjects take 
 Th’ ingredient which does public virtue make: 
 
 At his bright beam they all their tapers light, 
 
 And by his dial set their motion right. 
 
 Davenant. 
 
 2146. KINGS. Faults of 
 
 Wretched state of kings ! that standing high, 
 Their faults are marks, shot at by every eye. 
 
 Decker. 
 
 The faults kings do, 
 
 Shine like the fiery beacon on a hill, 
 
 For all to see, and seeing, trembling at. 
 
 Hemmings. 
 
 A prince is but a man, and man may err ; 
 
 But when, forgetting his ennobled rank, 
 
 Pie makes due reparation for his faults, 
 
 From Heaven he pardon hopes, from man demands it. 
 
 Murphy. 
 
 2147. KINGS. Influence of 
 
 The cease of majesty 
 
 Dies not alone ; but, like a gulf, doth draw 
 What’s near it, with it: is a massy wheel, 
 
 Fix’d on the summit of the highest mount, 
 
 To whose huge spokes ten thousand lesser things 
 Are mortised and adjoin’d ; which, when it falls, 
 Each small annexment, petty consequence, 
 Attends the boist’rous ruin. Never alone 
 Did the king sigh, but with a general groan. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 He may not, as unvalued persons do, 
 
 Carve for himself; for on his choice depends 
 The safety and the health of the whole state, 
 
 And therefore must his choice be circumscribed 
 Unto the voice and yielding of that body, 
 Whereof he is the head. — Shakespeare. 
 
 2148. KINGS. Love of 
 
 The love of kings is like the blowing of 
 Winds, which whistle sometimes gently'among 
 The leaves, and straightway turn the trees up by 
 
KINGS 
 
 416 
 
 KNOWLEDGE 
 
 The roots ; or fire, which warmeth afar off. 
 
 And burneth near hand ; or the sea, which makes 
 Men hoist their sails in a flattering calm, 
 
 And to cut their masts in a rough storm.— Lilly. 
 
 2149. KINGS. Luxurious 
 
 Luxurious kings are to their people lost; 
 They live, like drones, upon the public cost. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 2150. KINGS. Presence of 
 
 The presence of a king engenders love 
 Amongst his subjects, and his royal friends. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 2151. KINGS. Rebellion against 
 
 When kings grow stubborn, slothful, or unwise, 
 Each private man for public good should rise. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 2152. KINGS. Salvation offered to 
 
 The silver trumpet’s heavenly call 
 Sounds for the poor, but sounds alike for all; 
 
 Kings are invited, and, would kings obey, 
 
 No slaves on earth more welcome were than they ; 
 But royalty, nobility, and state, 
 
 Are such a dead preponderating weight, 
 
 That endless bliss, how strange soe’er it seem, 
 
 In counterpoise flies up, and kicks the beam. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 2153. KINGS : should be eminent for virtue. 
 
 The king-becoming graces, 
 
 As justice, verity, temp’rance, stableness, 
 Bounty, persev’rance, mercy, lowliness, 
 Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 That king stands surest, who by’s virtue rises 
 More than by birth or blood. That prince is rare, 
 Who strives in youth, to save his age from care. 
 
 Middleton. 
 He’s a king, 
 
 A true, right king, that dares do aught, save wrong; 
 Fears nothing mortal, but to be unjust; 
 
 Who is not blown up with the flattering puffs 
 Of spungy sycophants ; who stands unmoved, 
 Despite the justling of opinion.— Marston. 
 
 The man whom Heaven appoints 
 To govern others, should himself first learn 
 To bend his passions to the sway of reason. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 2154. KINGS: should maintain their authority. 
 
 The king that yields to popular commotions, 
 
 Is more the slave than sovereign of his people. 
 
 Philips. 
 
 2155. KINGS : should not delegate their power. 
 
 The king who delegates 
 His power to others’ hands, but ill deserves 
 The crown he wears. — Brooke. 
 
 2156. KINGS : should not grasp at power. 
 
 Kings, by grasping more than they could hold. 
 First made their subjects by oppression bold ; 
 
 And popular sway, by forcing kings to give 
 More than was fit for subjects to receive, 
 
 Ran to the same extremes ; and one excess 
 Made both, by striving to be greater, less. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 Seek not to govern by the lust of power ; 
 
 Make not thy will thy law ; believe thy people 
 Thy children all ; so shalt thou kindly mix 
 Their interests with thy own, and fix the basis 
 Of future happiness in godlike justice. 
 
 C. Johnson. 
 
 Let him maintain his power, but not increase it. 
 The string—prerogative—when strain’d too high 
 Cracks like the tortured chord of harmony, 
 
 And spoils the concert between king and subject. 
 
 Havard. 
 
 2157. KINGS. The curse of 
 
 It is the curse of kings, to be attended 
 By slaves that take their humours for a warrant, 
 To break into the bloody house of life ; 
 
 And, on the winking of authority, 
 
 To understand a law, to know the meaning 
 Of dangerous majesty ; when perchance it frowns 
 More upon humour, than advised respect. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 2158. KNAVES. 
 
 As thistles wear the softest down, 
 
 To hide their prickles till they’re grown, 
 
 And then declare themselves, and tear 
 Whatever ventures to come near ; 
 
 So a smooth knave does greater feats 
 Than one that idly rails and threats, 
 
 And all the mischief that he meant 
 
 Does, like the rattle-snake, prevent.— Butler. 
 
 When men of infamy to grandeur soar, 
 
 They light a torch to show their shame the more. 
 Those governments, which curb not evils, cause; 
 And a rich knave’s a libel on our laws. — Young. 
 
 2159. KNOWLEDGE. Advantage of 
 
 Knowledge holdeth by the hilt, and heweth out a 
 road to conquest; 
 
 Ignorance graspeth the blade, and is wounded by its 
 own good sword : 
 
KNOWLEDGE 
 
 417 
 
 KNOWLEDGE 
 
 Knowledge distilleth health from the virulence of 
 opposite poisons ; 
 
 [gnorance mixeth wholesomes unto the breeding of 
 disease: 
 
 Knowledge is leagued with the universe, and findeth 
 a friend in all things ; 
 
 But ignorance is everywhere a stranger ; unwelcome ; 
 ill at ease and out of place. — Dipper. 
 
 2160. KNOWLEDGE : duty of imparting it. 
 
 Oh for the coming of that glorious time 
 When, prizing knowledge as her noblest wealth 
 And best protection, this imperial realm, 
 
 While she exacts allegiance, shall admit 
 
 An obligation, on her part, to teach 
 
 Them who are born to serve her and obey ; 
 
 Binding herself by statute to secure 
 
 For all the children whom her soil maintains 
 
 The rudiments of letters, and inform 
 
 The mind with moral and religious truth, 
 
 Both understood and practised,—so that none, 
 
 However destitute, be left to droop 
 
 By culture unsustain'd ; or run 
 
 Into a wild disorder ; or be forced 
 
 To drudge through a weary life without the help 
 
 Of intellectual implements and tools ; 
 
 A savage horde among the civilized, 
 
 A servile band among the lordly free. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 Of Demons ? fiery hot to burst 
 All barriers in her onward race 
 For power. Let her know her place, 
 
 She is the second, not the first. 
 
 A higher hand must make her mild, 
 
 If all be not in vain; and guide 
 Her footsteps moving side by side 
 With wisdom, like the younger child. 
 
 For she is earthly of the mind, 
 
 But wisdom heavenly of the soul. 
 
 O friend, who earnest to thy goal 
 So early, leaving me behind, 
 
 I would the great world grew like thee, 
 
 Who grewest not alone in power 
 And knowledge, but from hour to hour 
 In reverence and in charity. — Tennyson. 
 
 2164. KNOWLEDGE. Increase of 
 
 Let knowledge grow from more to more, 
 
 But more of reverence in us dwell; 
 
 That mind and soul, according well, 
 
 May make one music as before.— Tennyson. 
 
 2165. KNOWLEDGE: increases sorrow. 
 
 Sorrow is knowledge : they who know the most 
 Must mourn the deepest o er the fatal truth : 
 
 The tree of knowledge is not that of life.— Byron. 
 
 2161. KNOWLEDGE. Fruitless 
 
 The tree of knowledge, blasted by disputes, 
 Produces sapless leaves instead of fruits. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 2162. KNOWLEDGE. Ignorance of 
 
 Knowledge is not happiness, and science 
 But an exchange of ignorance for that 
 Which is another kind of ignorance. — Byron. 
 
 2163. KNOWLEDGE: imperfect. 
 
 Who loves not knowledge? who shall rail 
 Against her beauty ? May she mix 
 With men and prosper ! Who shall fix 
 Her pillars? Let her work prevail. 
 
 But on her forehead sits a fire ; 
 
 She sets her forward countenance, 
 
 And leaps into the future chance, 
 
 Submitting all things to desire. 
 
 Half-grown as yet, a child, and vain, 
 
 She cannot fight the fear of death. 
 
 What is she, cut from love and faith, 
 
 But some wild Pallas from the brain 
 
 2166. KNOWLEDGE. Love of 
 
 Man loves knowledge, and the beams of truth 
 More welcome touch his understanding’s eye 
 Than all the blandishments of sound his ear, 
 Than all of taste his tongue.— Ahenside. 
 
 2167. KNOWLEDGE: not attainable on earth. 
 
 View all around the works of Power Divine, 
 Inquire, explore, admire, extol, resign : 
 
 This is the whole of humankind below ; 
 
 ’Tis only given beyond the grave to know. 
 
 Hamilton. 
 
 2168. KNOWLEDGE: of the world. 
 
 All this boasted knowledge of the world 
 To me seems but to mean acquaintance with 
 Low things, or evil, or indifferent.— Bailey. 
 
 2169. KNOWLEDGE: produces humility. 
 
 Through seas of knowledge we our course advance, 
 Discov’ring still new worlds of ignoiance ; 
 
 And these discov'ries make us all confess 
 That sublunary science is but guess.— Denham. 
 
 27 
 
KNOWLEDGE 
 
 I 
 
 418 
 
 KNOWLEDGE 
 
 2170. KNOWLEDGE: should be sought for 
 
 soberly. 
 
 Knowledge is as food, and needs no less 
 Her temperance over appetite, to know 
 In measure what the mind may well contain ; 
 Oppresses else with surfeit, and soon turns 
 Wisdom to folly.— Milton. 
 
 Who in deep mines for hidden knowledge toils, 
 Like guns o’ercharged, breaks, misses, or recoils. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 Search not to find what lies too deeply hid; 
 
 Nor to know things whose knowledge is forbid. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 2171. KNOWLEDGE. Thirst for 
 
 First in man’s mind we find an appetite 
 To learn and know the truth of everything; 
 Which is connatural, and born with it.— Davies. 
 
 The wish to know—the endless thirst, 
 
 Which even by quenching is awaked, 
 
 And which becomes or bless’d or cursed, 
 
 As is the fount whereat ’tis slaked.— Moore. 
 
 2172. KNOWLEDGE : to what it would prompt 
 us. 
 
 If we knew, when walking thoughtless 
 Through the crowded, dusty way, 
 
 That some pearl of wondrous whiteness 
 Close beside our pathway lav, 
 
 We would pause where now we hasten, 
 
 We would oftener look around, 
 
 Lest our careless feet should trample 
 Some rare jewel in the ground. 
 
 If we knew what forms are fainting 
 Fpr the shade which we should fling, 
 
 If we knew what lips are parching 
 For the water we should bring. 
 
 We would haste with eager footsteps, 
 
 We would work with willing hands, 
 
 Bearing cooling cups of water, 
 
 Planting rows of shading palms. 
 
 If we knew what feet were weary, 
 
 Climbing up the hills of pain ; 
 
 By the world cast out as evil, 
 
 Poor, repentant Magdalenes ; 
 
 We no more would dare to scorn them 
 With our Pharisaic pride, 
 
 Wrapping close our robes about-us, 
 
 Passing on the other side. 
 
 If we knew when friends around us 
 Closely press to say ‘ Good-bye,' 
 
 Which among the lips that kiss us, 
 
 First beneath the flowers should lie, 
 
 While like rain upon their faces 
 Fell our bitter, blinding tears, 
 
 Tender words of love eternal 
 We would whisper in their ears. 
 
 2173. KNOWLEDGE. True 
 
 W hat is true knowledge ? Is it with keen eye 
 Of lucre’s sons to thread the mazy way ? 
 
 Is it of civic rights, and royal sway, 
 
 And wealth political, the depths to try ? 
 
 Is it to delve the earth, or soar the sky? 
 
 To marshal nature’s tribes in just array? 
 
 To mix, and analyze, and mete and weigh 
 Her elements, and all her powers desciy ? 
 
 These things, who will may know them, if to know 
 Breed not vain-glory. But o’er all to scan 
 God, in His works and word shc^vn forth below; 
 
 Creation’s wonders, and Redemption’s plan ; 
 Whence came we, what to do, and whither go ; 
 This is true knowledge, and ‘ the whole of man.’ 
 
 Mant. 
 
 Almighty Being, 
 
 Cause and support of all things, can I view 
 These objects of my wonder : can I feel 
 These fine sensations, and not think of Thee ? 
 Thou who dost through th’ eternal round of time, 
 Dost through th’ immensity of space exist 
 Alone, shalt Thou excluded be 
 From this Thy universe? Shall feeble man 
 Think it beneath his proud philosophy 
 To call for Thy assistance, and pretend 
 To frame a world, who cannot frame a clod ? 
 
 Not to know Thee, is not to know ourselves— 
 
 Is to know nothing—worth the care 
 Of man’s exalted spirit.— Stillingfleet. 
 
 2174. KNOWLEDGE. Useful 
 
 Not to know at large of things remote 
 From use, obscure and subtle, but to know 
 That which before us lies in daily life, 
 
 Is the prime wisdom ; what is more, is fume, 
 
 Or emptiness, or fond impertinence, 
 
 And renders us in things that most concern 
 Unpractised, unprepared, still to seek.— Milton. 
 
 2175. KNOWLEDGE: vaster than the human 
 
 mind. 
 
 The mind of man is this world’s tme dimension ; 
 
 And knowledge is the measure of the mind : 
 
 And as the mind in her vast comprehension 
 
 Contains more worlds than all the world can find, 
 
KNOWLEDGE 
 
 419 
 
 LABOUR 
 
 So knowledge doth itself far more extend 
 Than all the minds of man can comprehend. 
 
 Lord Brooke. 
 
 2176. KNOWLEDGE: vouchsafed to the inno¬ 
 cent. 
 
 Some secret truths, from learned pride conceal’d, 
 
 To maids alone and children are reveal’d : 
 
 What though no credit doubting wits may give, 
 
 The fair and innocent shall still believe.— Pope. 
 
 2177. KNOWLEDGE: and wisdom. 
 
 Knowledge, when wisdom is too weak to guide hei 
 Is like a headstrong horse that throws the rider. 
 
 Quarles.' 
 
 Knowledge descries alone, wisdom applies ; 
 
 That makes some fools, this maketh none but wise. 
 In my afflictions, knowledge apprehends 
 Who is the author, what the cause and ends : 
 
 It finds that patience is my sad relief, 
 
 And that the hand that caused can cure my grief. 
 
 Quarles. 
 
 Knowledge and wisdom, far from being one, 
 
 Have ofttimes no connection. Knowledge dwells 
 
 In heads replete with thoughts of other men, 
 Wisdom in minds attentive to their own. 
 Knowledge, a rude, unprofitable mass, 
 
 The mere materials with which wisdom builds, 
 Till smoothed, and squared, and fitted to its place, 
 Does but encumber whom it seems to enrich. 
 Knowledge is proud that he has learn’d so much ; 
 Wisdom is humble that he knows no more. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 2178. LABOUR. Benefit of 
 
 From labour health, from health contentment spring ; 
 Contentment opes the source of every joy.— Beattie. 
 
 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. 
 
 She never feels the spleen’s imagined pains, 
 
 Nor melancholy stagnates in her veins ; 
 
 She never loses life in thoughtless ease, 
 
 Nor on the velvet couch invites disease; 
 
 Her homespun dress in simple neatness lies, 
 
 And for no glaring equipage she sighs ; 
 
 No midnight masquerade her beauty wears, 
 
 And health, not paint, the fading bloom repairs. 
 
 Gay. 
 
 Keep the watch wound, or the dark rust assaileth ; 
 
 Flowers droop and die in the stillness of noon. 
 Labour is glory !—the flying cloud lightens ; 
 
 Only the waving wing changes and brightens, 
 
 Idle hearts only the dark future frightens, 
 
 Play the sweet keys wouldst thou keep them in 
 tune! 
 
 Labour is rest—from the sorrows that greet us ; 
 
 Rest from all petty vexations that meet us ; 
 
 Rest from sin-promptings that ever entreat us ; 
 
 Rest from world-sirens that lure us to ill. 
 
 Work—and pure slumbers shall wait on thy pillow; 
 Work—thou shalt ride over Care’s coming billow ; 
 Lie not down ’neath Woe’s weeping willow, 
 
 Work with a stout heart and resolute will! 
 
 Labour is health ! Lo, the husbandman reaping, 
 How through his veins goes the life-current leaping ! 
 How his strong arm in its stalworth pride sweeping, 
 True as a sunbeam the swift sickle guides. 
 
 Labour is wealth—in the sea the pearl groweth ; 
 Rich the queen’s robe from the cocoon floweth ; 
 From the fine acorn the strong forest bloweth ; 
 Temple and statue the marble block hides. 
 
 Droop not ! though shame, sin, and anguish are 
 round thee ! 
 
 Bravely fling off the cold chain that hath bound thee ! 
 Look to the pure heaven smiling beyond thee ! 
 
 Rest not content in thy darkness—a clod ! 
 
 Work for some good, be it ever so slowly ! 
 
 Cherish some flower, be it ever so lowly ! 
 
 Labour !—all labour is noble and holy ; 
 
 Let thy great deeds be thy prayer to thy God. 
 
 Fratices S. Osgood. 
 
 2179. LABOUR. Burden of 
 
 Labour with what zeal we will, 
 
 Something still remains undone, 
 
 Something uncompleted still 
 Waits the rising of the sun. 
 
 By the bedside, on the stair, 
 
 At the threshold, near the gates, 
 
 With its menace or its prayer, 
 
 Like a mendicant it waits ; 
 
 Waits, and will not go away ; 
 
 Waits, and will not be gainsaid ; 
 
 By the cares of yesterday 
 
 Each to-day is heavier made ; 
 
 Till at length the burden seems 
 
 Greater than our strength can bear, 
 
 Heavy as the weight of dreams, 
 
 Pressing on us everywhere. 
 
 Labour is life ! ’tis the still water faileth ; 
 Idleness ever despaireth, bewaileth ; 
 
LABOUR 
 
 420 
 
 LABOUR 
 
 And we stand from day to day, 
 
 Like the dwarfs of times gone by. 
 
 Who, as Northern legends sa.y, 
 
 On their shoulders held the sky. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 2180. LABOUR. Call to 
 
 Hast thou then been hired to labour 
 In the vineyard of the Lord, 
 
 With the promise that if faithful 
 Thou shalt win a sure reward ? 
 
 Look, the tireless sun is hasting 
 Towards the zenith, and the day 
 
 Which in vanity thou’rt wasting, 
 
 Speedeth rapidly away! 
 
 Lo ! the field is white for harvest, 
 
 And the labourers are few; 
 
 Canst thou, then, oh, slothful servant 
 Find no work that thou canst do? 
 
 Sitting idle in the vineyard ; 
 
 Sleeping while the noon-day flies ; 
 
 Dreaming while with every pulse-beat 
 Some frail mortal droops and dies. 
 
 Waken! overburden’d labourers, 
 
 Fainting in the sultry ray, 
 
 Cry against thee to the Master 
 As thou dream’st the hours away : 
 
 Waken ! patient angels, bearing 
 Home earth’s harvest, grieving see 
 
 One by one the bright hours waning, 
 
 And no sheaf secured by thee. 
 
 When at last, the summer ended. 
 
 And the song of ‘ Harvest home,’ 
 
 By God’s blessed angels chanted, 
 
 Swells through heaven’s celestial dome, 
 
 What wilt thou do, slothful servant, 
 
 With no gather’d sheaf to bring ? 
 
 How wilt thou feel, empty-handed, 
 
 In the presence of thy King ? 
 
 Lo! the field is white for harvest, 
 
 And the labourers are few ; 
 
 Canst thou, then, oh, slothful servant, 
 
 Find no work that thou canst do? 
 
 Angels wait to bear the tidings 
 
 Of some good that thou hast done ; 
 
 Then, to patient, faithful labour, 
 
 Waken, ere the set of sun! 
 
 2181. LABOUR. Christian : is never in vain. 
 
 U pon the stormy waters 
 The bread of life we cast, 
 
 With cheerful trust believing 
 It shall be found at last. 
 
 We see it but a moment, 
 
 Far drifting o’er the main, 
 
 But deathless, undecaying, 
 
 It shall be found again. 
 
 One eye shall ever watch it, 
 
 The eye of Him who sees 
 Each tiny seedling scatter’d 
 By summer’s passing breeze ; 
 
 That eye which sees the coral, 
 
 As year by year it grows, 
 
 And counts the myriad crystals 
 Of Himalayan snows. 
 
 Sometimes with bitter weeping 
 The seed of life is sown, 
 
 With well-nigh hopeless pleadings, 
 
 To Jesus only known. 
 
 With hope deferr’d, the mother 
 Oft looks upon her child, 
 
 No plant of heaven is springing, 
 
 Though weeds grow rank and wild. 
 
 The shades of evening gather 
 Upon the Sabbath sky. 
 
 From pastors and from teachers 
 The prayer ascends on high. 
 
 Once more their hands have broken 
 The true and heavenly bread ;— 
 
 Let them believe not vainly 
 The table hath been spread ! 
 
 Yes! On the stormy waters 
 We cast the bread of life, 
 
 Vain are the surging waters, 
 
 Vain is the tempest’s strife. 
 
 His never failing promise 
 Jehovah will fulfil, 
 
 And the seed be found in glory, 
 
 When those proud waves are still. 
 
 2182. LABOUR. Encouragement to 
 
 Sow with a generous hand, 
 
 Pause not for toil or pain, 
 
 Weary not through the heat of summer, 
 Weary not through the cold spring rain ; 
 
 But wait till the autumn comes 
 For the sheaves of golden grain. 
 
 Scatter the seed, and fear not ; 
 
 A table will be spread ; 
 
 What matter if you are too weary 
 To eat your hard-eam’d bread : 
 
 Sow while the earth is broken, 
 
 For the hungry must be fed. 
 
 Sow,-—while the seeds are lying 
 In the warm earth’s bosom deep, 
 
LABOUR 
 
 421 
 
 LAND 
 
 And your warm tears fall upon it,— 
 
 They will stir in their quiet sleep, 
 
 And the green blades rise the quicker, 
 Perchance, for the tears you weep. 
 
 Then sow,—for the hours are fleeting, 
 
 And the seed must fall to-day ; 
 
 And care not what hand shall reap it, 
 
 Or if you shall have pass’d away 
 
 Before the waving corn-fields 
 Shall gladden the sunny day. 
 
 Sow, and look onward, upward, 
 
 Where the starry light appears,— 
 
 Where, in spite of the coward’s doubting, 
 
 Or your own heart’s trembling fears, 
 
 You shall reap in joy the harvest 
 You have sown to-day in tears. 
 
 2183. LABOUR. Lesson of 
 
 Under a spreading chestnut-tree 
 The village smithy stands ; 
 
 The smith, a mighty man is he. 
 
 With large and sinewy hands ; 
 
 And the muscles of his brawny arms 
 Are strong as iron bands. 
 
 Week in, week out, from mom till night, 
 
 You can hear his bellows blow ; 
 
 You can hear him swing his heavy sledge, 
 
 With measured beat and slow, 
 
 Like sexton ringing the village bell, 
 
 When the evening sun is low. 
 
 Toiling, rejoicing, sorrowing, 
 
 Onward through life he goes ; 
 
 Each morning sees some task begin, 
 
 Each evening sees it close ; 
 
 Something attempted, something done, 
 
 Has earn’d a night’s repose. 
 
 Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, 
 
 For the lesson thou hast taught! 
 
 Thus at the flaming forge of life 
 Our fortunes must be wrought ; 
 
 Thus on its sounding anvil shaped 
 
 Each burning deed and thought!— Longfellow. 
 
 2184. LABOUR : lightened by love. 
 
 This my mean task 
 Would be as heavy to me as odious ; but 
 The mistress, which I serve, quickens what’s dead, 
 And makes my labours pleasures.— Shakespeare. 
 
 2185. LABOUR: necessary. 
 
 If little labour, little are our gains : 
 
 Man’s fortunes are according to his pains. 
 
 Herrick. 
 
 2186. LABOUR. Rest from 
 
 « 
 
 If all the world were playing holidays, 
 
 To sport would be as tedious as to work ; 
 
 But when they seldom come, they wish’d-for come. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 2187. LABOUR : the lot of man. 
 
 Cheer’d with the view, man went to till the ground 
 From whence he rose ; sentenced indeed to toil, 
 
 As to a punishment, yet (e’en in wrath 
 So merciful is Heaven) this toil became 
 The solace of his woes, the sweet employ 
 Of many a livelong hour, and surest guard 
 Against disease and death.— Porteus. 
 
 The curse on the sons of men, in all their states, is 
 labour, 
 
 Nevertheless, to the diligent, labour bringeth bless¬ 
 ing ; 
 
 The thought of duty sweeteneth toil, and travail is a 
 pleasure ; 
 
 And time spent in doing, hath a comfort that is not 
 for the idle, 
 
 The hardship is transmuted into joy by the dear 
 alchemy of mercy. 
 
 Labour is good for man, bracing up his energies to 
 conquest, 
 
 And without it life is dull, the man perceiving him¬ 
 self useless. 
 
 For wearily the body groaneth, like a door on rusty 
 hinges, 
 
 And the grasp of the mind is weakened, as the talons 
 of a caged vulture. — Tapper. 
 
 2188. LAND. The better 
 
 ‘ I HEAR thee speak of the better land ; 
 
 Thou callest its children a happy band. 
 
 Mother ! oh, where is that radiant shore? 
 
 Shall we not seek it, and weep no more ? 
 
 Is it where the flower of the orange blows, 
 
 And the fire-flies glance through the myrtle boughs ? 
 
 ‘ Not there, not there, my child ! ’ 
 
 | ‘ Is it where the feathery palm-trees rise, 
 
 1 
 
 And the date grows ripe under sunny skies ? 
 
 Or amidst the green islands of glittering seas, 
 
 Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze, 
 
 And strange, bright birds, on their starry wings, 
 
 Bear the rich hues of all glorious things ? ’ 
 
 ‘ Not there, not there, my child ! ’ 
 
 * Is it far away in some region old, 
 
 Where the rivers wander o’er sands of gold, 
 
 Where the burning rays of the ruby shine, 
 
 And the diamond lights up the secret mine, 
 
LANGUAGE 
 
 422 
 
 LEARNING 
 
 And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand ? 
 Is it there, sweet mother, that better land?’ 
 
 Not there, not there, my child ! ’ 
 
 ‘ Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy ! 
 
 Ear hath not heard its deep sounds of joy ; 
 
 Dreams cannot picture a world so fair— 
 
 Sorrow and death may not enter there ; 
 
 Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom : 
 
 Far beyond the clouds, and beyond the tomb— 
 
 It is there, it is there, my child ! ’— Mrs Hemans. 
 
 2189. LANGUAGE. Power of 
 
 When Amruzail describes what he has seen, 
 Such power in his language lies, 
 
 That as he paints flocks, wastes, oases green, 
 
 His hearers’ ears are turn’d to eyes! 
 
 Oriental tr. by IV. R. Alger. 
 
 2190. LAUGHTER. 
 
 We look before and after, 
 
 And pine for what is not; 
 
 Our sincerest laughter 
 
 With some pain is fraught.— Shelley. 
 
 2191. LAW. Cost of 
 
 Once (says an author, when I need not say), 
 
 Two travellers found an oyster in their way : 
 
 Both fierce, both hungry, the dispute grew strong, 
 While, scale in hand, dame Justice pass’d along. 
 Before her each with clamour plead the laws, 
 Explain’d the matter, and would win the cause. 
 Dame Justice, weighing long the doubtful right, 
 Takes, opens, swallows it before their sight. 
 
 The cause of strife removed so rarely well, 
 
 ‘ There take (says Justice), take ye each a shell. 
 
 We thrive at Westminster, on fools like you : 
 
 ’Twas a fat oyster—live in peace. Adieu ! ’— Pope. 
 
 2192. LAWS. 
 
 There is a law in each well-order’d nation 
 To curb those raging appetites that are 
 Most disobedient and refractory.— Shakespeare. 
 
 The brain may devise laws 
 For the blood, but a hot temper leaps o’er 
 A cold decree. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Pity is the virtue of the law, 
 
 And none but tyrants use it cruelly.— Shakespeare. 
 
 We must not make a scarecrow of the law, 
 
 Setting it up to fear the birds of prey, 
 
 And let it keep one shape, till custom make it 
 Their perch, and not their terror.— Shakespeare. 
 
 The good need fear no law; 
 
 It is his safety, and the bad man’s awe.— Jonson. 
 
 Laws can discover sin, but not remove.— Milton. 
 
 Multitude of laws are signs either of 
 Much tyranny in the prince, or much 
 Rebellious disobedience in the subject.— Marston. 
 
 Each state must have its policies ; 
 
 Kingdoms have edicts, cities have their charters. 
 
 Ev’n the wild outlaw, in his forest walk, 
 
 Keeps yet some touch of civil discipline. 
 
 For not since Adam wore his verdant apron, 
 
 Hath man with man in social union dwelt, 
 
 But laws were made to draw that union closer. 
 
 Old Play. 
 
 Strict laws are like steel bodice, good for growing 
 limbs ; 
 
 But when the joints are knit, they are not helps, 
 
 But burdens.— Fane. 
 
 No man e’er felt the halter draw 
 
 With good opinion of the law. — Trumbull. 
 
 Laws, as we read in ancient sages, 
 
 Have been like cobwebs in all ages. 
 
 Cobwebs for little flies are spread, 
 
 And laws for little folks are made ; 
 
 But if an insect of renown, 
 
 Hornet or beetle, wasp or drone, 
 
 Be caught in quest of sport or plunder, 
 
 The flimsy fetter flies in sunder.— Beattie. 
 
 2193. LAZINESS. Penalty of 
 
 Some other kind of wits must be made known, 
 Whose harmless errors hurt themselves alone ; 
 
 Excess of luxury they think can please, 
 
 And laziness call loving of their ease : 
 
 To live dissolved in pleasures still they feign, 
 
 Though their whole life’s but intermitting pain : 
 
 So much of surfeits, headaches, gouts are seen, 
 
 We scarce perceive the little time between : 
 Well-meaning men who make this gross mistake, 
 And pleasure lose only for pleasure’s sake ; 
 
 Each pleasure has its price, and when we pay 
 Too much of pain, we squander life away.— Dry den. 
 
 2194. LEARNING. False 
 
 But as the slightest sketch, if justly traced, 
 
 Is by ill colouring but the more disgraced ; 
 
 So by false learning is good sense defaced : 
 
 Some are bewilder’d in the maze of schools, 
 
 And some made coxcombs Nature meant but fools. 
 
 Pope. 
 
LEARNING 
 
 423 
 
 LEPER 
 
 2195. LEARNING. Indigested 
 
 Voracious learning, often over-fed, 
 
 Digests not into sense her motley meal. 
 
 This bookcase, with dark booty almost burst, 
 
 This forager on others’ wisdom, leaves 
 Her native farm, her reason, quite untill’d. 
 
 With mixt manure she surfeits the rank soil, 
 
 Dung’d but not dress’d, and rich to beggary : 
 
 A pomp untamable of weeds prevails.— Young. 
 
 2196. LEARNING : is acquired slowly. 
 
 No good of worth sublime will Heaven permit 
 To light on man, as from the passing air ; 
 
 The lamp of genius, though by nature lit, 
 
 If not protected, pruned, and fed with care, 
 
 Soon dies, or runs to waste with fitful glare, 
 
 And learning is a plant that spreads and towers 
 Slow as Columbia’s aloe.— Wilcox. 
 
 2197. LEARNING : its price. 
 
 Learning by study must be won : 
 
 ’Twas ne’er entail’d from sire to son. — Gay. 
 
 2198. LEARNING. Much 
 
 Much learning shows how little mortals know ; 
 
 Much wealth, how little worldlings can enjoy. 
 
 Young. 
 
 2199. LEARNING : necessary. 
 
 1 As the uncultured prairie bears a harvest 
 
 Heavy and rank, yet worthless to the world,— 
 
 So mind and heart, uncultured, run to waste ; 
 
 The noblest, natures serving but to show 
 A denser growth of passions’ deadly fruit. 
 
 Mrs Hale. 
 
 * 
 
 2200. LEARNING. Pretended 
 
 Some for renown on scraps of learning date, 
 
 And think they grow immortal as they quote. 
 
 To patch-work learn’d quotations are allied, 
 
 But strive to make our poverty our pride.— Young. 
 
 ' 2201. LEARNING. Pride of 
 
 What is the pomp of learning? the parade 
 Of letters and of tongues? Even as the mists 
 Of the grey morn before the rising sun, 
 
 That pass away and perish. Earthly things 
 Are but the transient pageants of an houi ; 
 
 And earthly pride is like the passing flower 
 That springs to fall, and blossoms but to die. 
 
 II. K. White. 
 
 2202. LEARNING. Unused 
 
 WHO learns and learns, but acts not what he knows, 
 Is one who ploughs and ploughs, but never sows. 
 
 Oriental. 
 
 How empty learning, and how vain is art, 
 
 But as it mends the life, and guides the heart! 
 
 Young. 
 
 2203. LEISURE. 
 
 Leisure is pain ; takes off our chariot-wheels ; 
 
 How heavily we drag the load of life ! 
 
 Blest leisure is our curse ; like that of Cain, 
 
 It makes us wander ; wander earth around 
 To fly that tyrant Thought. As Atlas groan’d 
 The world beneath, we groan beneath an hour. 
 
 Young. 
 
 2204. LENT. The true 
 
 There’s winter on the hills to-day, 
 
 The sad wind soughs o’er churchyard knolls, 
 And weary nature seems to say, 
 
 * ’Tis Lenten-tide for sinful souls. ’ 
 
 The barb is in our heart to-day : 
 
 Sore crush’d with sense of ail and sin, 
 
 We feebly strive and faintly pray, 
 
 ’Gainst danger near, for grace within. 
 
 We mourn our pride and passion’s stain, 
 
 The earthly in our hearts enshrined ; 
 
 The rebel flesh, too oft in vain 
 
 Commanded by the nobler mind ; 
 
 And all of human curse or care 
 
 Which lurks life’s dangerous paths among. 
 
 To quench the altar-flame of prayer, 
 
 Or hush the heavenward strain of song. 
 
 Punshon. 
 
 2205. LEPER. Healing a 
 
 ‘ Room for the leper ! room ! ’ And, as he came, 
 The cry pass’d on, ‘ Room for the leper, room ! ’ 
 
 ‘ Room for the leper ! ’ And aside they stood, 
 Matron and child, and pitiless manhood, all 
 Who met him on his way, and let him pass. 
 
 And onward through the open gate he came, 
 
 A leper with the ashes on his brow, 
 
 Sackcloth about his loins, and on his lip 
 A covering, stepping painfully and slow, 
 
 And with a difficult utterance, like one 
 Whose heart is with an iron nerve put down, 
 Crying, ‘ Unclean ! unclean ! ’ 
 
 He was young, 
 
 And eminently beautiful, and life 
 Mantled in eloquent fulness on his lip, 
 
 And sparkled in his glance ; and in his mien 
 There was a gracious pride that every eye 
 
LEPER 
 
 424 
 
 LEPER 
 
 Follow’d with benisons—and this was he ! 
 
 With the soft airs of summer there had come 
 A torpor on his frame, which not the speed 
 Of his best barb, nor music, nor the blast 
 Of the bold huntsman’s horn, nor aught that stirs 
 The spirit to its bent, might drive away. 
 
 The blood beat not as wont within his veins ; 
 Dimness crept o’er his eye, a drowsy sloth 
 Fetter’d his limbs like palsy, and his mien, 
 
 With all its loftiness, seem’d struck with eld : 
 
 Even his voice was changed, a languid moan 
 Taking the place of the clear silver key ; 
 
 And brain and sense grew faint, as if the light 
 And very air were steep’d in sluggishness. 
 
 He strove with it a while, as manhood will, 
 
 Ever too proud for weakness, till the rein 
 Slacken’d within his grasp, and in its poise 
 The arrowy jereed like an aspen shook. 
 
 Day after day he lay as if in sleep ; 
 
 His skin grew dry and bloodless, and white scales 
 Circled with livid purple cover’d him. 
 
 And then his nails grew black, and fell away 
 From the dull flesh about them, and the hues 
 Deepen’d beneath the hard, unmoisten’d scales, 
 
 And from their edges grew the rank white hair— 
 And Helon was a leper ! 
 
 Day was breaking, 
 
 When at the altar of the temple stood 
 The holy priest of God. The incense lamp 
 Burn’d with a struggling light, and a low chant 
 Swell’d through the hollow arches of the roof 
 Like an articulate wail, and there, alone, 
 
 Wasted to ghastly thinness, Helon knelt. 
 
 The echoes of the melancholy strain 
 Died in the distant aisle, and he rose up, 
 
 Struggling with weakness, and bow’d down his 
 head 
 
 Unto the sprinkled ashes, and put off 
 His costly raiment for the leper’s garb ; 
 
 And with the sackcloth round him, and his lip 
 Hid in a loathsome covering, stood still, 
 
 Waiting to hear his doom : 
 
 4 Depart ! depart, O child 
 Of Israel, from the temple of thy God ! 
 
 For He has smote thee with His chastening rod ; 
 
 And to the desert wild, 
 
 From all thou lov’st, away thy feet must flee, 
 
 That from thy plague His people may be free. 
 
 4 Depart, and come not near 
 The busy mart, the crowded city, more, 
 
 Nor set thy foot a human threshold o’er. 
 
 And stay thou not to hear 
 Voices that call thee in the way ; and fly 
 From all who in the wilderness pass by. 
 
 ‘ Wet not thy burning lip 
 In streams that to a human dwelling glide ; 
 
 Nor rest thee where the covert fountains hide ; 
 
 Nor kneel thee down to dip 
 The water where the pilgrim bends to drink, 
 
 By desert well or river’s grassy brink ; 
 
 4 And pass thou not between 
 That weary traveller and the cooling breeze ; 
 
 And lie not down to sleep beneath the trees 
 Where human tracks are seen ; 
 
 Nor milk the goat that browseth on the plain, 
 
 Nor pluck the standing corn, or yellow grain. 
 
 4 And now depart ! and when 
 Thy heart is heavy, and thine eyes are dim, 
 
 Lift up thy prayer beseechingly to Him 
 Who, from the tribes of men, 
 
 Selected thee to feel His chastening rod. 
 
 Depart, O leper ! and forget not God ! ’ 
 
 And he went forth alone ! not one of all 
 The many whom he loved, nor she whose name 
 Was woven in the fibres of the heart 
 Breaking within him now, to come and speak 
 Comfort unto him. Yea ; he went his way, 
 
 Sick, and heart-broken, and alone—to die ! 
 
 For God had cursed the leper ! 
 
 It was noon, 
 
 And Helon knelt beside a stagnant pool 
 In the lone wilderness, and bathed his brow. 
 
 Hot with the burning leprosy, and touch’d 
 The loathsome water to his fever’d lips, 
 
 Praying that he might be so blest, to die ! 
 Footsteps approach’d, and with no strength to flee, 
 He drew the covering closer to his lip, 
 
 Crying 4 Unclean ! unclean ! ’ and in the folds 
 Of the coarse sackcloth shrouding up his face, 
 
 He fell upon the earth till they should pass. 
 
 Nearer the Stranger came, and bending o’er 
 The leper’s prostrate form, pronounced his name : 
 
 4 Helon ! ’ The voice was like the master-tone 
 Of a rich instrument, most strangely sweet; 
 
 And the dull pulses of disease awoke, 
 
 And for a moment beat beneath the hot 
 And leprous scales with a restoring thrill. 
 
 4 Helon, arise ! ’ and he forgot his curse, 
 
 And rose and stood before Him. 
 
 Love and awe 
 
 Mingled in the regard of Helon’s eye 
 As he beheld the Stranger. He was not 
 In costly raiment clad, nor on His brow 
 The symbol of a princely lineage wore ; 
 
 No followers at His back, nor in His hand 
 Buckler, or sword, or spear; yet in His mien 
 Command sat throned serene, and if He smiled, 
 i A kingly condescension graced His lips, 
 
LIBERTY 
 
 425 
 
 LIBERTY 
 
 ■ ’ 1 
 
 The lion would have couch’d to in his lair. 
 
 His garb was simple, and His sandals worn; 
 
 His stature modell’d with a perfect grace ; 
 
 His countenance the impress of a God, 
 
 Touch’d with the open innocence of a child ; 
 
 His eye was blue and calm, as is the sky 
 In the serenest noon ; His hair unshorn 
 Fell to His shoulders ; and His curling beard 
 The fulness of perfected manhood bore. 
 
 He look’d on Helon earnestly a while, 
 
 As if His heart were moved, and, stooping down, 
 
 He took a little water in His hand 
 And laved the sufferer’s brow, and said, * Be clean ! 
 And lo ! the scales fell from him, and his blood 
 Coursed with delicious coolness through his veins, 
 And his dry palms grew moist, and on his lips 
 The dewy softness of an infant’s stole. 
 
 His leprosy was cleansed, and he fell down 
 Prostrate at Jesus’ feet and worshipp’d Him. 
 
 Willis. 
 
 2206. LIBERTY : abused. 
 
 Lucio. Whence comes this restraint? 
 
 Claudio. From too much liberty, my Lucio, liberty: 
 As surfeit is the father of much fast, 
 
 So every scope by the immoderate use 
 Turns to restraint.— Shakespeare. 
 
 2207. LIBERTY. Christian 
 
 True liberty was Christian, sanctified, 
 
 Baptized, and found in Christian hearts alone. 
 First-born of Virtue, daughter of the skies, 
 
 Nursling of Truth divine ; sister of all 
 The graces, meekness, holiness, and love : 
 
 Giving to God, and man, and all below, 
 
 That symptom show’d of sensible existence, 
 
 Their due unask’d ; fear to whom fear was due ; 
 
 To all, respect, benevolence, and love. 
 
 Companion of religion! where she came 
 There freedom came ; where dwelt, there freedom 
 dwelt; 
 
 Ruled where she ruled, expired where she expired. 
 
 ‘ He was the freeman whom the truth made free : ’ 
 Who first of all the bands of Satan broke ; 
 
 Who broke the bands of Sin ; and for his soul 
 !‘ In spite of fools consulted seriously ; 
 
 In spite of fashion persevered in good ; 
 
 In spite of wealth or poverty, upright ; 
 
 Who did as reason, not as fancy bade; 
 
 Who heard temptation sing, and yet turn’d not 
 Aside ; saw Sin bedeck her flowery bed, 
 
 And yet would not go up ; felt at his heart 
 
 The sword unsheathed, yet would not sell the truth 
 
 Who, having power, had not the will to hurt ; 
 
 Who blush’d alike to be or have a slave ; 
 
 Who blush’d at nought but sin, fear’d nought but 
 God ; 
 
 Who finally, in strong integrity 
 
 Of soul, ’midst want, or riches, or disgrace, 
 
 Uplifted calmly sat, and heard the waves 
 Of stormy folly breaking at his feet; 
 
 Now shrill with praise, now hoarse with foul re¬ 
 proach, 
 
 And both despised sincerely ; seeking this 
 Alone—the approbation of his God, 
 
 Which still with conscience witness’d to his peace. 
 
 Pollok. 
 
 2208. LIBERTY : consistent with order. 
 
 For orders' and degrees 
 Jar not with liberty, but well consist. Milton, 
 
 2209. LIBERTY : has its home in England. 
 
 Slaves cannot breathe in England ! if their lungs 
 Receive our air, that moment they are free : 
 
 They touch our country, and their shackles fall. 
 That’s noble, and bespeaks a nation proud 
 And jealous of the blessing.— Cowper. 
 
 2210. LIBERTY. Love of 
 
 The love of liberty with life is given. 
 
 And life itself th’ inferior gift of Heaven. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 Oh ! give me liberty! 
 
 For were even paradise my prison, 
 
 Still I should long to leap the crystal walls. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 Easier were it 
 
 To hurl the rooted mountain from its base, 
 Than force the yoke of slavery upon men 
 Determined to be free.— Southey. 
 
 ( But slaves that once conceive the glowing thought 
 Of freedom, in that hope itself possess 
 All that the contest calls for spirit, strength, 
 
 The scorn of danger, and united hearts, 
 
 The surest presage of the good they seek .—Cowper. 
 
 2211. LIBERTY : of heart. 
 
 But there is yet a liberty, unsung 
 By poets, and by senators unpraised, 
 
 Which monarchs cannot grant, nor all the powers 
 Of earth and hell confederate take away ; 
 
 A liberty which persecution, fraud. 
 
 Oppression, prisons, have 110 powei to bind ; 
 Which whoso tastes can be enslaved no more. 
 
 ’Tis liberty of heart, derived from Heaven, 
 
 Bought with His blood, who gave it to mankind, 
 And seal’d with the same token. — Cowper. 
 
LIBERTY 
 
 426 
 
 LIFE 
 
 2212. LIBERTY : sacred 
 
 Oh, could I worship aught beneath the skies, 
 That earth hath seen or fancy can devise, 
 
 Thine altar, sacred liberty ! should stand, 
 
 Built by no mercenary vulgar hand, 
 
 With fragrant turf, and flowers as wild and fair 
 As ever dress’d a bank, or scented summer air. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 2213. LIBERTY: should be jealously guarded. 
 
 The greatest glory of a free-born people 
 Is to transmit that freedom to their children. 
 
 Havard. 
 
 2214. LIBERTY. Show of 
 
 A show of liberty, 
 
 When we have lost the substance, is best kept, 
 By seeming not to understand those faults, 
 Which we want power to mend.— May. 
 
 2215. LIBERTY. Spirit of 
 
 There is a spirit working in the world, 
 
 Like to a silent, subterranean fire ; 
 
 Yet ever and anon some monarch hurl’d 
 Aghast and pale, attests its fearful ire; 
 
 The dungeon’d nations now once more respire 
 The keen and stirring air of Liberty ! — Hill. 
 
 2216. LIBERTY. Value of 
 
 A day, an hour of virtuous liberty 
 Is worth a whole eternity in bondage. 
 
 Addison. 
 
 When liberty is gone 
 Life grows insipid, and has lost its relish. 
 
 A ddison. 
 
 Liberty, like day, 
 
 Breaks on the soul, and by a flash from heaven 
 Fires all the faculties with glorious joy.— Cowper. 
 
 ’Tis liberty alone that gives the flower 
 Of fleeting life its lustre and perfume, 
 
 And we are weeds without it. — Cowper. 
 
 221’]. LIFE : a book 
 
 Man’s life’s a book of history ; 
 
 The leaves thereof are days ; 
 
 The letters, mercies closely joined ; 
 
 The title is God’s praise.— Mason. 
 
 2218. LIFE : a pilgrimage. 
 
 Since every man who lives is born to die, 
 
 And none can boast sincere felicity, 
 
 With equal mind what happens let us bear, 
 
 Nor joy nor grieve too much for things beyond our 
 care : 
 
 Like pilgrims to th’ appointed place we tend; 
 
 The world’s an inn, and death the journey’s end. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 2219. LIFE. Abuse of 
 
 A bright or dark eternity in view, 
 
 With all its fix’d, unutterable things, 
 
 What madness in the living to pui'sue 
 As their chief portion, with the speed of wings. 
 
 The joys that death-beds always turn to stings ! 
 Infatuated man, on earth’s smooth waste 
 To dance along the path that always brings 
 Quick to an end, from which with ten-fold haste 
 Back would he gladly fly till all should be retraced ! 
 
 Our life is like the hurrying on the eve 
 Before we start, on some long journey bound, 
 
 When preparations to the last we leave, 
 
 Then run to every room the dwelling round, 
 
 And sigh that nothing needed can be found ; 
 
 Yet go we must, and soon as day shall break: 
 
 We snatch an hour’s repose, when loud the sound 
 For our departure calls ; we rise and take 
 | A quick and sad farewell, and go ere well awake. 
 
 Wilcox . 
 
 2220. LIFE and Death. 
 
 What is the life of man ? A passing shade 
 Upon the changeful mirror of old Time, 
 
 A sere leaf long ere autumn comes decay’d, 
 
 A plant or tree that scantly reaches prime, 
 
 A dew-drop of the morning gone ere noon, 
 
 A dying taper on a darksome pall, 
 
 The foam of torrent’s whirling wave, 
 
 A bird that flutters on a drooping wing, 
 
 A shadowy spectre o’er an open grave, 
 
 A morning-glory’s moment in the spring, 
 
 A breaking bubble on a rushing stream, 
 
 A sunset after storm, an erring angel’s dream. 
 
 What is the death we fear? The peaceful close 
 Of stormy life—of reckless passion’s sway ; 
 
 The veil that mantles all our cares and woes, 
 
 The heavenly ending of an earthly day ; 
 
 The crown of time well-spent, the portal fair 
 Which opes the way to never-ending joy ; 
 
 It sets the captive spirit free as air 
 
 From all the fetters which on earth annoy. 
 
 What is this death ? The sleep the pilgrim takes 
 After much weaiy travail he has known ; 
 
 And whence, with powers renewed, he awakes. 
 
 His soul more mighty from its slumbers grown ; 
 The glorious conquest over human ill, 
 
 A spirit’s joy which death can never kill. 
 
 \ 
 

 LIFE 4 
 
 2221. LIFE and Immortality brought to light by 
 
 the Gospel. 
 
 O everlastjng Father, God ! 
 
 Sun after sun went down, and trod 
 Race after race the green earth’s sod, 
 
 Till generations seem’d to be 
 But dead waves of an endless sea, 
 
 But dead leaves from a deathless tree. 
 
 But Thou hast come, and now we know 
 Each wave hath an eternal flow, 
 
 Each leaf a lifetime after snow.— Alexander. 
 
 2222. LIFE. Autumn of 
 
 The leaves around me falling, 
 
 Are preaching of decay, 
 
 The hollow winds are calling, 
 
 ‘ Come, pilgrim, come away ! ’ 
 
 The day, in night declining, 
 
 Says I must too decline, 
 
 The year, its bloom resigning, 
 
 Its lot foreshadows mine ! 
 
 The light my path surrounding, 
 
 The loves to which I cling, 
 
 The hopes within me bounding, 
 
 The joys that round me wing, 
 
 All, all, like stars at even, 
 
 Just gleam and shoot away ; 
 
 Pass on before to heaven, 
 
 And chide at my delay. 
 
 The friends gone there before me 
 Are calling from on high, 
 
 And happy angels o’er me 
 Tempt sweetly to the sky. 
 
 ‘ Wait, wait,’ they say, ‘and wither 
 ’Mid scenes of death and sin ? 
 
 Oh ! rise to glory hither, 
 
 And find true life begin.’ 
 
 I hear the invitation, 
 
 And fain would rise and come, 
 
 A sinner to salvation, 
 
 An exile to his home ; 
 
 But while I here must linger, 
 
 Thus, thus let all I see 
 Point on with faithful finger, 
 
 To heaven, O Lord, and Thee.— Lyte. 
 
 2223. LIFE. Boundaries of 
 
 Between two breaths what crowded mysteries lie— 
 
 The first short gasp, the last and long-drawn sigh ! 
 
 Like phantoms painted on the magic slide, 
 
 Forth from the darkness of the past we glide, 
 
 LIFE 
 
 As living shadows for a moment seen 
 In airy pageant on the eternal screen, 
 
 Traced by a ray from one unchanging flame, 
 
 Then seek the dust and stillness whence we came. 
 
 O. IV. Holmes. 
 
 2224. LIFE. Brevity of 
 
 Like to the falling of a star, 
 
 Of as the flights of eagles are, 
 
 Or like the fresh spring’s gaudy hue, 
 
 Or silver drops of morning dew, 
 
 Or like a wind that chafes the flood, 
 
 Or bubbles which on water stood— 
 
 E’en such is man, whose borrow’d light 
 Is straight call’d in, and paid to-night. 
 
 The wind blows out, the bubble dies, 
 
 The spring entomb’d in autumn lies, 
 
 The dew dries up, the star is shot, 
 
 The flight is past—and man forgot '.—King. 
 
 Life’s little stage is a small eminence, 
 
 Inch-high the grave above ; that home of man, 
 Where dwells the multitude: we gaze around ; 
 We read their monuments ; we sigh ; and while 
 We sigh, we sink ; and are what we deplored ; 
 Lamenting, or lamented, all our lot.— Young. 
 
 While man is growing, life is in decrease ; 
 
 And cradles rock us nearer to the tomb. 
 
 Our birth is nothing but our death begun; 
 
 As tapers waste that instant they take fire. 
 
 • ••••* 
 
 He sins against this life, who slights the next. 
 
 Young. 
 
 Life is but a day at most, 
 
 Sprung from night, in darkness lost : 
 
 Hope not sunshine every hour, 
 
 Fear not clouds will always lower. Burns. 
 
 O Life ! how pleasing is thy morning, 
 
 Young fancy’s rays the hills, adorning ! 
 
 Cold—pausing—cautious lessons scorning, 
 
 We frisk away 
 
 Like school-boys, at the expected warning, 
 To joy and play. 
 
 We wander there, we wander here, 
 
 We eye the rose upon the brier, 
 
 Unmindful that the thorn is near 
 Among the leaves ; 
 
 And though the puny wound appear, 
 
 Short while it grieves. —Burns. 
 
 2225. LIFE. Brevity of 
 
 Oh ! let the soul its slumber break, 
 
 Arouse its senses and awake, 
 
 To see how soon 
 
LIFE 
 
 42S 
 
 LIFE 
 
 Life, with its glory, glides away, 
 
 And the stern footsteps of decay 
 Come stealing on. 
 
 And while we eye the rolling tide, 
 
 Down which our flowing minutes glide 
 Away so fast, 
 
 Let us the present hour employ. 
 
 And deem each future dream of joy 
 Already past. 
 
 Let no vain hope deceive the mind— 
 
 No happier let us hope to find 
 
 To-morrow than to-day. 
 
 Our golden dreams of yore were bright ; 
 Like them, the present shall delight— 
 
 Like them, decay. 
 
 Our lives like hasting streams must be. 
 
 That into one engulfing sea 
 
 Are doom’d to fall— 
 
 The sea of death, whose waves roll on 
 O’er king and kingdom, crown and throne, 
 And swallow all 
 
 Alike the river’s lordly tide, 
 
 Alike the humble riv’let’s, glide 
 To that sad wave ; 
 
 Death levels property and pride. 
 
 And rich and poor sleep side by side 
 Within the grave. 
 
 Our birth is but the starting-place. 
 
 Life is the running of the race, 
 
 And death the goal : 
 
 There all those glittering toys are brought; 
 The path alone, of all unsought, 
 
 Is found of all. 
 
 Say, then, how poor and little worth 
 Are all those glittering toys of earth 
 That lure us here ! 
 
 Dreams of a sleep that death must break, 
 Alas ! before it bids us wake, 
 
 Ye disappear! 
 
 H. A. P. from the Spanish. 
 
 •226. LIFE. Caravan of 
 
 Where pilgrims seek the Prophet’s tomb 
 Across the Arabian waste, 
 
 Upon the ever-shifting sands 
 A fearful path is traced. 
 
 Far up to the horizon’s verge. 
 
 The traveller sees it rise— 
 
 A line of ghastly bones that bleach 
 Beneath those burning skies. 
 
 Across it tempest and simoom 
 The desert-sands have strew’d, 
 
 But still that line of spectral white 
 For ever is renew’d. 
 
 For while along the burning track 
 The caravans move on. 
 
 Still do the way-worn pilgrims fall 
 Ere yet the shrine be won. 
 
 There the tired camel lays him down 
 And shuts his gentle eyes ; 
 
 And there the fiery rider droops. 
 
 Toward Mecca looks, and dies. 
 
 They fall unheeded from the ranks : 
 
 On sweeps the endless train ; 
 
 But there, to mark the desert path, 
 
 Their whitening bones remain. 
 
 And thus I read the mournful tale 
 Upon the traveller’s page, 
 
 I thought how like the march of life 
 Is this sad pilgrimage. 
 
 For every heart hath some fair dream. 
 
 Some object unattain’d, 
 
 And far off in the distance lies 
 Some Mecca to be gain’d. 
 
 But beauty, manhood, love, and power 
 Go in their morning down, 
 
 And longing eyes and outstretch’d arms 
 Tell of the goal unwon. 
 
 The mighty caravan of life 
 Above their dust may sweep, 
 
 Nor shout nor trampling feet shall break 
 The rest of those who sleep .—Anne Lynch. 
 
 2227. LIFE : characterized. 
 
 Man’s life’s a tragedy ; his mother’s womb, 
 From which he enters, is the tiring-room ; 
 
 This spacious earth the theatre ; the stage 
 That country which he lives in : passions, rage, 
 Folly, and vice are actors ; the first cry 
 The prologue to the ensuing tragedy. 
 
 The former act consisteth in dumb shows ; 
 
 The second he to more perfection grows ; 
 
 I’ th’ third he is a man, and doth begin 
 To nurture vice, and act the deeds of sin : 
 
 I’ th’ fourth declines : i’ th’ fifth diseases clo<? 
 And trouble him ; then death’s the epilogue. 
 
 Raleigh. 
 
 Life’s but a walking shadow; a poor player, 
 That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, 
 And then is heard no more : it is a tale 
 Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, 
 Signifying nothing.— Shakespeare. 
 
LIFE 
 
 429 
 
 LIFE 
 
 Life is a weary interlude, 
 
 Which doth short joys, long woes include : 
 
 The world the stage, the prologue tears, 
 
 The acts vain hopes and varied fears; 
 
 The scene shuts up with loss of breath, 
 
 And leaves no epilogue but death.— King. 
 
 Thy life’s a warfare, thou a soldier art, 
 
 Satan’s thy foeman, and a faithful heart 
 Thy two-edged weapon, patience thy shield, 
 
 Heaven is thy chieftain, and the world thy field. 
 
 To be afraid to die, or wish for death, 
 
 Are words and passions of despairing breath : 
 
 Who doth the first, the day doth faintly yield ; 
 
 And who the second, basely flies the field. 
 
 Quarles. 
 
 When I consider life, ’tis all a cheat, 
 
 Yet, fool’d with hope, men favour the deceit; 
 
 Trust on, and think to-morrow will repay; 
 To-morrow’s falser than the former day ; 
 
 Lies more, and while it says we shall be bless’d 
 With some new joys, cuts off what we possess’d. 
 
 1 Strange coz’nage ! none would live past years again, 
 Yet all hope pleasure in what yet remain ; 
 
 And from the dregs of life think to receive 
 What the first sprightly running could not give. 
 
 I’m tired of waiting for this chymic gold, 
 
 Which fools us young, and beggars us when old. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 Is a long journey in December gone, 
 
 Tedious and full of tribulation.— Decker. 
 
 What is life ? 
 
 A gulf of troubled waters—where the soul, 
 
 I Like a vex’d bark, is toss’d upon the waves 
 Of pain and pleasure by the wavering breath 
 
 Of passions.— Miss Landon. 
 
 I 
 
 2228. LIFE. Contentment with 
 
 They may rail at this life—from the hour I began it, 
 I’ve found it a life full of kindness and bliss; 
 
 And until they can show me some happier planet, 
 More social and bright, I’ll content me with this. 
 
 Moore. 
 
 I 
 
 2229. LIFE. Crises in i 
 
 This hour’s the very crisis of your fate ; 
 
 Your good or ill, your infamy or fame, 
 
 And all the colour of your life, depends 
 On this important now.— Dryden. 
 
 There are points from which we can command our 
 I life; 
 
 When the soul sweeps the future like a glass ; 
 
 And coming things, full-freighted with our fate, 
 
 Jut out on the dark offing of the mind.— Bailey. 
 
 2230. LIFE. Days of 
 
 The days of life are sisters ; all alike ; 
 
 None just the same ; which serve to fool us on, 
 
 Through blasted hopes, with change of fallacy ; 
 
 While joy is, like to-morrow, still to come : 
 
 Nor ends the fruitless chase but in the grave. 
 
 Young. 
 
 2231. LIFE. Decline of 
 
 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. 
 
 Summer ebbs ; each day that follows 
 Is a reflex from on high, 
 
 Tending to the darksome hollows 
 Where the frosts of winter lie. 
 
 He who governs the creation, 
 
 In His providence, assign’d 
 
 Such a gradual declination 
 To the life of humankind. 
 
 Yet we mark it not; fruits redden, 
 
 Fresh flowers blow, as flowers have blown, 
 
 And the heart is loath to deaden 
 
 Hopes that she so long hath known. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 2232. LIFE. Destinies of 
 
 Know well, my soul, God’s hand controls 
 Whate’er thou fearest; 
 
 Round Him in calmest music rolls 
 Whate’er thou hearest. 
 
 What to thee is shadow, to Him is day. 
 
 And the end He knoweth, 
 
 And not on a blind and aimless way 
 The spirit goeth. 
 
 Man sees no future—a phantom show 
 Is alone before him : 
 
 Past Time is dead and the grasses grow, 
 
 And flowers bloom o’er him. 
 
 Nothing before, nothing behind ; 
 
 The steps of Faith 
 
 Fall on the seeming void, and find 
 The rock beneath. 
 
 The Present, the Present is all thou hast 
 For thy sure possessing ; 
 
 Like the patriarch’s angel, hold it fast 
 Till it gives its blessing. 
 
 Why fear the night? why shrink from Death, 
 That phantom wan ? 
 
 There is nothing in heaven or earth beneath, 
 Save God and man. 
 
LIFE 
 
 430 
 
 LIFE 
 
 Peopling the shadows we turn from Him 
 And from one another ; 
 
 All is spectral, and vague, and dim, 
 
 Save God and our brother ! 
 
 Like warp and woof, all destinies 
 Are woven fast, 
 
 Link’d in sympathy like the keys 
 Of an organ vast. 
 
 Pluck one thread, and the web ye mar ; 
 
 Break but one 
 
 Of a thousand keys, and the paining jar 
 Through all will run. 
 
 And in life, in death, in dark and light, 
 
 All are in God’s care ; 
 
 Sound the black abyss, pierce the deep of night, 
 And He is there.— Whittier. 
 
 2233. LIFE : devoted to Christ. 
 
 Jesus ! I live to Thee, 
 
 The loveliest and best! 
 
 My life in Thee, Thy life in me, 
 
 In Thy blest love I rest. 
 
 Jesus ! I die to Thee, 
 
 Whenever death shall come ; 
 
 To die in Thee is life to me, 
 
 In my eternal home. 
 
 Whether to live or die, 
 
 I know not which is best ; 
 To live in Thee is bliss to me, 
 To die is endless rest. 
 
 Living or dying, Lord, 
 
 I ask but to be Thine : 
 
 My life in Thee, Thy life in me, 
 
 Makes heaven for ever mine. 
 
 Harbaugh , 
 
 2234. LIFE : earnest. 
 
 ’Tis not for man to trifle ! Life is brief, 
 And sin is here. 
 
 Our age is but the falling of a leaf, 
 
 A dropping tear. 
 
 We have no time to sport away the hours, 
 All must be earnest in a world like ours. 
 
 Not many lives, but only one have we— 
 
 One, only one ; 
 
 How sacred should that one life ever be— 
 That narrow span ! 
 
 Day after day fill’d up with blessed toil, 
 
 Hour after hour still bringing in new spoil. 
 
 Bonar. 
 
 2235. LIFE. Emblems of 
 
 A flower that does with opening morn arise, 
 
 And, flourishing the day, at evening dies ; 
 
 A winged eastern blast, but skimming o’er 
 The ocean’s brow, and sinking on the shore ; 
 
 A fire, whose flames through crackling stubble fly, 
 A meteor shooting from the summer sky; 
 
 A bowl adown the bending mountain roll’d ; 
 
 A bubble breaking, and a fable told ; 
 
 A noontide shadow, and a midnight dream ; 
 
 Are emblems which, with semblance apt, proclaim 
 Our earthly course.— Prior. 
 
 2236. LIFE. Epitome of 
 
 Day dawn’d ; within a curtain’d room. 
 
 Fill’d to faintness with perfume, 
 
 A lady lay at point of doom. 
 
 Day closed ; a child had seen the light: 
 
 But, for the lady fair and bright, 
 
 She rested in undreaming night. 
 
 Spring rose ; the lady’s grave was green ; 
 
 And near it, oftentimes, was seen 
 A gentle boy with thoughtful mien. 
 
 Years fled ; he wore a manly face, 
 
 And struggled in the world’s rough race, 
 
 And won at last a lofty place. 
 
 And then he died ! behold before ye 
 Humanity’s poor sum and story ; 
 
 Life—Death—and all that is of Glory.— Procter. 
 
 2237. LIFE. Eternal 
 
 A LIFE of honour and of worth 
 Has no eternity on earth, 
 
 ’Tis but a name ; 
 
 And yet its glory far exceeds 
 That base and sensual life, which leads 
 To want and shame. 
 
 The eternal life beyond the sky 
 Wealth cannot purchase, nor the high 
 And proud estate : 
 
 The soul in dalliance laid, the spirit 
 Corrupt with sin, shall not inherit 
 A joy so great. 
 
 Manriqne , tr. by Longfellow. 
 
 2238. LIFE : full of care. 
 
 By day or night, 
 
 In florid youth, or mellow age, scarce fleets 
 One hour without its care! not sleep itself 
 Is ever balmy ; for the shadowy dream 
 Oft bears substantial woe.— Smollett. 
 
LIFE 
 
 43i 
 
 LIFE 
 
 2239. LIFE : glides away imperceptibly. 
 
 Ah ! what is human life ? 
 
 How, like the dial’s tardy moving shade, 
 
 Day after day slides from us unperceived ! 
 
 The cunning fugitive is swift by stealth ; 
 
 Too subtle is the movement to be seen ; 
 
 Yet soon the hour is up—and we are gone.— Young. 
 
 In the same brook, none ever bathed him twice : 
 
 To the same life, none ever twice awoke. 
 
 We call the brook the same ; the same we think 
 Our life, though still more rapid in its flow ; 
 
 Nor mark the much irrevocably lapsed, 
 
 And mingled with the sea. — Young. 
 
 2240. LIFE. Godly 
 
 He lives who lives to God alone, 
 
 And all are dead beside ; 
 
 For other source than God is none 
 Whence life can be supplied. 
 
 To live to God is to requite 
 His love as best we may ; 
 
 To make His precepts our delight, 
 
 His promises our stay. 
 
 But life within a narrow ring 
 Of giddy joys comprised, 
 
 Is falsely named, and no such thing, 
 
 But rather death disguised.— Cowper. 
 
 2241. LIFE : how it is made up. 
 
 Love, hope, and joy, fair pleasure’s smiling train ; 
 Hate, fear, and grief, the family of pain ; 
 
 These, mix’d with art, and to due bounds confined, 
 Make and maintain the balance of the mind ; 
 
 The lights and shades whose well-accorded strife 
 Gives all the strength and colour of our life.— Pope. 
 
 To know, to esteem, to love,—and then to part, 
 Make up life’s tale to many a feeling heart. 
 
 Coleridge. 
 
 2242. LIFE : how it should be spent. 
 
 We should fill the hours with the sweetest things 
 If we had but a day ; 
 
 We should drink alone at the purest springs 
 In our upward way ; 
 
 We should love with a life-time’s love in an hour, 
 
 If our hours were few ! 
 
 We should rest, not for dreams, but for fresher 
 power 
 
 To be and to do. 
 
 We should bind our weary and wanton wills 
 To the clearest light: 
 
 We should keep our eyes on the heavenly hills, 
 
 If they lay in sight; 
 
 We should trample the pride and the discontent 
 Beneath our feet; 
 
 We should take whatever a good God sent 
 With a trust complete S 
 
 We should waste no moments in weak regret 
 If the day were but one ; 
 
 If what we remember and what we forget 
 Went out with the sun ; 
 
 We should be from our clamorous selves set free 
 To work or to pray, 
 
 And to be what our Father would have us be, 
 
 If we had but a day. 
 
 Mary Lowe Dickinson. 
 
 2243. LIFE : how to make life happy. 
 
 • 
 
 Be patient—life is very brief, 
 
 It passes quickly by, 
 
 And if it prove a troubled scene 
 Beneath a stormy sky, 
 
 It is but like a shaded night 
 That brings a morn of radiance bright. 
 
 Be hopeful—cheerful faith will bring 
 A living joy to thee, 
 
 And make thy life a hymn of praise 
 From doubt and murmur free ; 
 
 Whilst, like the sunbeam, thou wilt bless 
 And bring to others happiness. 
 
 Be earnest—an immortal soul 
 Should be a worker true ; 
 
 Employ thy talents for thy God, 
 
 And ever keep in view 
 The judgment scene, the last great day, 
 
 When heaven and earth shall pass away. 
 
 Be holy—let not sin’s dark stain 
 Thy spirit’s whiteness dim ; 
 
 Keep close to God amid the world, 
 
 And put thy trust in Him. 
 
 So, midst thy business and thy rest, 
 
 Thou wilt be comforted and blest. 
 
 Be prayerful—ask, and thou wilt have 
 Strength equal to thy day ; 
 
 Prayer clasps the hand that guides the world, 
 Oh, make it thou thy stay. 
 
 Ask largely, and thy God will be 
 A kingly giver unto thee. 
 
 2244. LIFE. Importance of 
 
 THEY say this life is but a wreath 
 Of vapour, melting in the sky ; 
 
LIFE 
 
 432 
 
 LIFE 
 
 The small frail flower which grows beneath, 
 
 Then drooping, shuts its languid eye ; 
 
 A tale repeated round the hearth, 
 
 Made half of mourning, half of mirth ; 
 
 A bubble, bursting in the light; 
 
 A meteor, streaming in the night; 
 
 A dream, a tear, a smile, a sigh, 
 
 A breath—the breath of Deity ! 
 
 A tale ? Yes, one that’s quivering 
 On every raptured seraph’s string, 
 
 Since this poor clay enshrined a God ; 
 
 And the lone path, so meekly trod, 
 
 Adoring, wonderingly they’ve traced, 
 
 Through all our misery-haunted waste. 
 
 Oh, that can be no trivial thing, 
 
 However rapidly it fly, 
 
 Which bears our souls upon its wing, 
 
 And fashions our eternity ! 
 
 Though small the seedling, from it grow 
 Heaven’s boundless bliss, and hell’s black woe. 
 
 E7nily Judson. 
 
 2245. LIFE. Influence of temper on 
 
 On their life no grievous burden lies, 
 
 Who are well-natured, temperate, and wise : 
 
 But an inhuman and ill-temper’d mind 
 Not any easy part in life can find.— Denham. 
 
 2246. LIFE : is what we make it. 
 
 The world is all dark, or the world is all bright, 
 
 Just as we choose to make it; 
 
 Our burden is heavy, our burden is light, 
 
 Just as we happen to take it; 
 
 And people who grumble and people who groan 
 At the world and its every proposal, 
 
 Would grumble and groan if the world were their 
 own, 
 
 With the sun, moon, and stars at disposal. 
 
 It is all very well to have beauty and health, 
 
 But if ugly and sick, we must bear it; 
 
 It is all very well to have oceans of wealth, 
 
 Though we find, if we must, we can spare it ; 
 
 But healthy and wealthy, or sickly and pool', 
 
 We are wise to be 1 careless and happy, ’ 
 
 And gracefully try all our ills to endure, 
 
 Though we try till we’re ‘hairless and cappy.’ 
 
 In the Broadway of life, though we’re jostled and 
 torn, 
 
 There’s a ‘ Beautiful Gate,’ at whose portal 
 The robes of the great, like the wearied and worn, 
 Must be changed for the garments immortal; 
 
 And knocks he a beggar, or knocks he a king— 
 
 To the Master but little it matters— 
 
 Be his heart but in tune, he may enter and sing, 
 Though his raiment be sables or tatters. 
 
 Not all can be noble, not all can be great, 
 
 But our lives with God’s love we can leaven ; 
 
 And whether of high or of lowly estate, 
 
 ’Tis the same to our Father in heaven. 
 
 The world may seem dark or the world may seem 
 light 
 
 As we cling to the old, old story, 
 
 And cheerfully work, with our lamps burning bright, 
 Till we enter the portals of glory.— H. F. H. S. 
 
 2247* LIFE. Island of 
 
 Opening the map of God’s expansive plan, 
 
 We find a little isle, this life of man ; 
 
 Eternity’s unknown expanse appears 
 Circling around, and limiting his years. 
 
 The busy race examine and explore 
 
 Each creek and cavern of the dangerous shore, 
 
 With care collect what in their eyes excels, 
 
 Some shining pebbles, and some weeds and shells ; 
 Thus laden, dream that they are rich and great, 
 
 And happiest he that groans beneath his weight. 
 
 The waves o’ertake them in their serious play, 
 
 And every hour sweeps multitudes away ; 
 
 They shriek and sink—survivors start and weep, 
 Pursue their sport, and follow to the deep. 
 
 Ccnvper. 
 
 2248. LIFE : its beginnings. 
 
 Hard are life’s early steps ; and but that youth 
 Is buoyant, confident, and strong in hope, 
 
 Men would behold its threshold and despair. 
 
 Miss Landon. 
 
 Few know of life’s beginnings—men behold 
 The good achieved ; the warrior, when his sword 
 Flashes red triumph in the noon-day sun ; 
 
 The poet, when his lyre hangs on the palm ; 
 
 The statesman, when the crowd proclaim his voice, 
 And mould opinion on his gifted tongue ; 
 
 They count not life’s first steps, and never think 
 
 Upon the many miserable hours 
 
 When hope deferr’d was sickness to the heart. 
 
 Miss Landon. 
 
 2249. LIFE : its blessings slighted. 
 
 We slight the gifts that every season bears, 
 
 And let them fall unheeded from our grasp, 
 
 In our great eagerness to reach and clasp 
 The promised treasure of the coming years ; 
 
 Or else we mourn some great good pass’d away, 
 
 And, in the shadow of our grief shut in, 
 
 Refuse the lesser good we yet might win, 
 
 The offer’d peace and gladness of to-day. 
 
LIFE 
 
 433 
 
 LIFE 
 
 So through the chambers of our life we pass, 
 
 And leave them one by one, and never stay, 
 
 Not knowing how much pleasantness there was 
 In each until the closing of the door 
 
 Has sounded through the house and died away, 
 And in our hearts we sigh, ‘ For evermore.’ 
 
 2250. LIFE: its burdens. 
 
 Oh, there are moments for us here, when seeing 
 Life’s inequalities, and woe, and care, 
 
 The burdens laid upon our mortal being 
 
 Seem heavier than the human heart can bear. 
 
 For there are ills that come without foreboding, 
 
 I* Lightnings that fall before the thunders roll. 
 
 And there are festering cares, that, by corroding, 
 Eat silently their way into the soul. 
 
 And for the evils that our race inherit 
 
 What strength is given us that we may endure ? 
 
 Surely the God and Father of our spirit 
 
 Sends not afflictions which He cannot cure ! 
 
 No ! there is a Physician, there is healing, 
 
 And light that beams upon life’s darkest day, 
 
 To him whose heart is right with God, revealing 
 The wisdom and the justice of His way. 
 
 Phcebe Carey. 
 
 2251. LIFE : its decay. 
 
 ► To you the beauties of the autumnal year 
 
 Make mournful emblems, and you think of man 
 Doom’d to the grave’s long winter, spirit broke, 
 Bending beneath the burden of his years, 
 
 Sense dull’d and fretful, full of aches and pains, 
 
 Yet clinging still to life. To me they show 
 The calm decay of nature, when the mind 
 Retains its strength, and in the languid eye, 
 Religion’s holy hopes kindle a joy 
 That makes old age look lovely. All to you 
 Is dark and cheerless ; you, in this fair world, 
 
 See some destroying principle abroad, 
 
 Air, earth, and water, full of living things, 
 
 Each on the other preying ; and the ways 
 Of man a strange, perplexing labyrinth, 
 
 Where crimes and miseries, each producing each, 
 Render life loathsome, and destroy the hope 
 That should in death bring comfort. Oh ! my friend, 
 That thy faith were as mine ! that thou couldst see 
 Death still producing life, and evil still 
 Working its own destruction ; couldst behold 
 The strifes and tumults of this troubled world, 
 
 With the strong eye that sees the promised day 
 Dawn through this night of tempest ! All things then 
 Would minister to joy ; then should thine heart 
 
 Be heal’d and harmonized, and thou shouldst feel 
 God, always everywhere, and all in all.— Southey. 
 
 2252. LIFE : its limit fixed. 
 
 All has its date below. The fatal hour 
 Was register’d in heaven ere time began. 
 
 We turn to dust, and all our mightiest works 
 Die too. The deep foundations that we lay, 
 
 Time ploughs them up, and not a trace remains. 
 We build with what we deem eternal rock, 
 
 A distant age asks where the fabric stood ? 
 
 And in the dust, sifted and search’d in vain, 
 
 The undiscoverable secret sleeps. — Cowper. 
 
 2253. LIFE : its prospects. 
 
 ‘ Life is before ye ! ’—and as now ye stand 
 Eager to spring upon the promised land, 
 
 Fair smiles the way where yet your feet have trod 
 But few light steps upon a flowery sod. 
 
 Round ye are youth’s green bowers—and to your 
 eyes, 
 
 Th’ horizon’s line but joints the earth and skies ; 
 Daring and triumph, pleasure, fame, and joy, 
 Friendship unwavering, love without alloy, 
 
 Brave thoughts of noble deeds, and glory won, 
 
 Like angels, beckon ye to venture on. 
 
 Frances Kemble Butler. 
 
 2254. LIFE: its results. 
 
 Nothing but leaves ! the spirit grieves 
 Over a wasted life ; 
 
 Sin committed while conscience slept, 
 
 Promises made but never kept, 
 
 Hatred, battle, and strife ; 
 
 Nothing but leaves ! 
 
 Nothing but leaves ; no garner’d sheaves 
 Of life’s fair ripen’d grain ; 
 
 Words, idle words, for earnest deeds ; 
 
 We sow our seeds,—lo ! tares and weeds ; 
 
 We reap, with toil and pain, 
 
 Nothing but leaves ! 
 
 Nothing but leaves ; memory weaves 
 No veil to screen the past: 
 
 As we retrace our weary way, 
 
 Counting each lost and misspent day, 
 
 We find, sadly, at last, 
 
 Nothing but leaves / 
 
 And shall we meet the Master so, 
 
 Bearing our wither’d leaves ? 
 
 The Saviour looks for perfect fruit; 
 
 We stand before him, humbled, mute.; 
 
 Waiting the words he breathes,— 
 
 ‘ Nothing but leaves ? ’ 
 
 28 
 
LIFE 
 
 434 
 
 LIFE 
 
 2255. LIFE. Length of 
 
 That life is long which answers life’s great end. 
 
 Young. 
 
 He liveth long who liveth well! 
 
 All other life is short and vain ; 
 
 He liveth longest who can tell 
 Of living most for heavenly gain. 
 
 He liveth long who liveth well ! 
 
 All else is being dung away ; 
 
 He liveth longest who can tell 
 
 Of true things truly done each day. 
 
 Bonar. 
 
 2256. LIFE: loved. 
 
 The weariest and most loathed worldly life 
 That age, ache, penury, imprisonment 
 Can lay on nature, is a paradise 
 To what we fear of death.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Who would lose, 
 
 Though full of pain, this intellectual being, 
 Those thoughts that wander through eternity, 
 To perish rather, swallow’d up and lost 
 In the wide womb of uncreated night, 
 
 Devoid of sense and motion ?— JMilton. 
 
 2257. LIFE. Measuring 
 
 To measure life learn thou betimes, and know, 
 Toward solid good what leads the nearest way. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 They err who measure life by years, 
 
 With false or thoughtless tongue ; 
 
 Some hearts grow old before their time ; 
 Others are always young. 
 
 ’Tis not the number of the lines 
 On life’s fast-filling page, 
 
 ’Tis not the pulse’s added throbs, 
 
 Which constitute their age. 
 
 Some souls are serfs among the free, 
 
 While others nobly thrive ; 
 
 They stand just where their fathers stood ; 
 Dead, even while they live. 
 
 Others, all spirit, heart, and sense, 
 
 Theirs the mysterious power 
 To live in thrills of joy or woe, 
 
 A twelvemonth in an hour ! 
 
 Seize, then, the minutes as they pass ; 
 
 The woof of life is thought! 
 
 Warm up the colours ; let them glow 
 With fire of fancy fraught. 
 
 Live to some purpose ; make thy life 
 A gift of use to thee: 
 
 A joy, a good, a golden hope, 
 
 A heavenly argosy.— Procter. 
 
 2258. LIFE. Mental 
 
 The earth is full of life ; the living Hand 
 Touch’d it with life ; and all its forms expand 
 With principles of being made to suit 
 Man’s varied powers and raise him from the brute. 
 And shall the earth of higher ends be full— 
 
 Earth which thou tread’st—and thy poor mind be 
 dull ? 
 
 Thou talk of life, with half thy soul asleep ? 
 
 Thou ‘living dead man,’ let thy spirit leap 
 Forth to the day, and let the fresh air blow 
 Through thy soul’s shut-up mansion. Would’st thou 
 know 
 
 Something of what is life, shake off this death ; 
 
 Have thy soul feel the universal breath 
 With which all nature’s quick, and learn to be 
 Sharer in all that thou dost touch or see ; 
 
 Break from thy body’s grasp, thy spirit’s trance ; 
 Give thy soul air, thy faculties expanse ; 
 
 Love, joy, even sorrow—yield thyself to all! 
 
 They make thy freedom, groveller, not thy thrall! 
 Knock off the shackles which thy spirit bind 
 To dust and sense, and set at large the mind! 
 
 Then move in sympathy with God’s great whole, 
 And be like man at first, a LIVING SOUL.— Dana. 
 
 2259. LIFE. Mockery of 
 
 Oh, life and all its charms decay! 
 
 Alluring, cheating, on they go ; 
 
 The stream for ever steals away 
 In one irrevocable flow ; 
 
 Its dearest charms, the charms of love, 
 
 Are fairest in their bud, and die 
 Whene’er their tender bloom we move ; 
 
 We touch the leaves, they wither’d lie. 
 
 At distance all how gay, how sweet, 
 
 A very land of fairy blisses, 
 
 Where smiles, and tears, and soft words meet, 
 And willing lips unite in kisses; 
 
 But when we touch the magic shore, 
 
 The glow is gone, the charm is fled ; 
 
 We find the dearest hues it wore 
 Are but the light around the dead, 
 
 And cold the hymeneal chain 
 
 That binds their cheated hearts in one, 
 
 And on, with many a step of pain, 
 
 Their weary race is sadly run ; 
 
LIFE 
 
 435 
 
 LIFE 
 
 And still as on they plod their way, 
 
 They find, as life’s gay dreams depart, 
 
 To close their being’s toilsome day, 
 
 Nought left them but a broken heart. 
 
 Percival. 
 
 2260. LIFE or Death : alike to the believer. 
 
 Lord, it belongs not to my care, 
 
 Whether I die or live ; 
 
 To love and serve Thee is my share, 
 
 And this Thy grace must give. 
 
 If life be long, I will be glad, 
 
 That I may long obey ; 
 
 If short, yet why should I be sad 
 To soar to endless day ? 
 
 Christ leads me through no darker rooms 
 Than He went through before ; 
 
 He that unto God’s kingdom comes, 
 
 Must enter by His door. 
 
 Come, Lord, when grace has made me meet 
 Thy blessed face to see ; 
 
 For if Thy work on earth be sweet, 
 
 What will Thy glory be ? 
 
 Then shall I end my sad complaints, 
 
 And weary sinful days, 
 
 And join with the triumphant saints, 
 
 Who sing Jehovah’s praise. 
 
 V 
 
 My knowledge of that life is small, 
 
 The eye of faith is dim, 
 
 But ’tis enough that Christ knows all, 
 
 And I shall be with him.— Baxter. 
 
 2261. LIFE. Parable of 
 
 A man through Syria’s deserts speeding, 
 
 His camel by the halter leading, 
 
 The beast grew shy, began to rear, 
 
 With gestures wild to plunge and tear ; 
 
 So fearful was his snort and cry, 
 
 The driver was obliged to fly. 
 
 He ran, and saw a well which lay 
 By chance before him in the way. 
 
 He hears the snorting camel near, 
 
 And lost all consciousness in fear. 
 
 He plunged not in the shaft, but crept, 
 
 And hanging ’neath the brink he kept. 
 
 A blackberry bush its bed had found 
 Within the gaping fissures round ; 
 
 Hereto the driver firmly clung, 
 
 While loud his doleful wailings rung. 
 
 He look’d on high, and lo ! he saw 
 
 Above his head the camel’s jaw, 
 
 About to seize him as his prize. 
 
 Then in the well he cast his eyes ; 
 
 A dragon on the ground he saw, 
 
 That gaped with fearful, yawning jaw, 
 His prey there ready to devour, 
 
 When it should fall into his power. 
 
 Thus hovering between the two, 
 
 Another evil met his view. 
 
 Where in the stony fracture hung 
 The bush’s roots, to which he clung, 
 
 He saw two mice within the crack, 
 
 The one was white, the other black. 
 
 He saw the black one and the white, 
 
 How they the roots alternate bite. 
 
 I hey gnaw’d, and pull’d, and dug around, 
 And tore from off the roots the ground ; 
 When he the crumbling earth espies, 
 
 On high the dragon casts his eyes, 
 
 To see how soon, with load and all, 
 
 I he bush, torn by the roots, would fall. 
 The man with anxious terror quail’d, 
 Besieged, surrounded, and assail’d, 
 
 While on this doleful situation, 
 
 Look’d round in vain for his salvation. 
 And as around he cast his eyes, 
 
 A little nodding branch he spies, 
 
 With berries ripe, nor did he feign 
 His lustful longing to restrain. 
 
 No more the camel’s rage he saw, 
 
 Nor in the gulf the dragon’s jaw, 
 
 No more the mice that gnaw’d the root, 
 When he beheld the luscious fruit. 
 
 He let the camel rage on high, 
 
 The dragon watch with lustful eye, 
 
 The mice gnaw at the bush’s root, 
 
 While greedily he seized the fruit. 
 
 Right good he deem’d them to appease 
 His cravings, and he pluck’d at ease, 
 
 And thus his fear, his doleful lot, 
 
 Were in the juicy sweets forgot. 
 
 ‘Who is the fool,’ methinks I hear 
 Thee ask, ‘ who thus forgets his fear? ? 
 Know, then, O friend, that man art thou ! 
 But take the explanation now : 
 
 The dragon lurking on the ground, 
 
 Is death’s grim yawning gulf profound ; 
 The threat’ning camel standing there, 
 
 Is life’s anxiety and care. 
 
 ’Tis you who gasp, ’twixt life and death, 
 Upon the world’s green bush for breath. 
 The two that, gnawing at the tree, 
 
 Shall soon the bush, as well as thee, 
 Deliver to the dragon’s might, 
 
 The mice, their names are day and night. 
 
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 436 
 
 LIFE 
 
 Conceal’d, the black one gnaws away 
 From evening to the dawn of day, 
 
 The white one gnaws and undermines 
 From morn until the sun declines. 
 
 And ’midst these horrors and alarms 
 Thou lustest for the berries’ charms, 
 
 Forgetting camel, life’s distress, 
 
 And dragon, death in the abyss, 
 
 As well as mice, the night and day, 
 
 And dost alone attention pay 
 To snatching berries, as they peep 
 From out the grave’s dark fissures deep. 
 
 Riickert. 
 
 2262. LIFE. Parting with 
 
 Life ! I know not what thou art, 
 
 But know that thou and I must part ; 
 
 And when, or how, or where we met 
 I own to me’s a secret yet. 
 
 Life ! we’ve been long together 
 
 Through pleasant and through cloudy weather : 
 
 ’Tis hard to part when friends are dear— 
 
 Perhaps ’twill cost a sigh, a tear ; 
 
 Then steal away, give little warning, 
 
 Choose thine own time ; 
 
 Say not Good Night—but in some brighter clime 
 Bid me Good Morning.— Barbauld. 
 
 2263. LIFE. Perfect 
 
 Circles are praised, not that abound 
 In largeness, but th’ exactly round; 
 
 So life we praise that does excel 
 Not in much time, but acting well. 
 
 2264. LIFE. Periods of 
 
 Our youth is like the opening day— 
 
 As swiftly pass the hours away ; 
 
 While like the birds on active wing, 
 Unthinkingly we sport and sing. 
 
 Our manhood is the fervid noon— 
 
 Its sunny moments pass as soon ; 
 
 Its brightest hour will soon be o’er, 
 
 And time once past returns no more. 
 
 Old age is like the evening grey, 
 
 Closing around the traveller’s way, 
 
 Who faint and weary seeks the road 
 Which leads him to a safe abode. 
 
 Morn, noon, and eve will soon be past, 
 
 And death’s dark night approaches fast; 
 
 No light can cheer the midnight gloom, 
 Which reigns within the silent tomb. 
 
 Let us improve our life’s short day, 
 
 That when its hours have pass’d away, 
 
 We may behold, without a fear, 
 
 Death’s long and dreary night draw near. 
 
 Another morn will surely break, 
 
 And all our sleeping dust awake: 
 
 Oh, may we then with joy arise, 
 
 And meet our Saviour in the skies.— Mrs Loud. 
 
 2265. LIFE. Personal 
 
 Shall I be slave to every noble soul; 
 
 Study the dead, and to their spirits bend; 
 
 Or learn to read my own heart’s folded scroll, 
 
 And make self-rule my end ? 
 
 Thought from without— oh shall I take on trust, 
 
 And life from others modell’d steal or win ; 
 
 Or shall I heave to light and clear of rust 
 My true life from within 1 
 
 Oh, let me be myself! But where, oh, where, 
 
 Under this heap of precedent, this mound 
 Of customs, modes, and maxims, cumbrance rare, 
 Shall the Myself be found ? 
 
 O thou Myself thy fathers thee debarr’d 
 None of their wisdom, but their folly came 
 Therewith ; they smoothed the path, but made it 
 hard 
 
 For thee to quit the same. 
 
 What aileth thee, myself ? Alas ! thy hands 
 Are tied with old opinions—heir and son, 
 
 Thou hast inherited thy father’s lands 
 
 And all his debts thereon— Jean lngelow. 
 
 2266. LIFE. Play of 
 
 All the world’s a stage ; 
 
 And all the men and women merely players. 
 
 They have their exits and their entrances ; 
 
 And one man, in his time, plays many parts, 
 
 His acts being seven ages. 
 
 At first, the infant; 
 
 Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms. 
 
 And then the whining school-boy ; with his satchel 
 And shining morning face, creeping like snail, 
 Unwillingly, to school. And then, the lover; 
 Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad 
 Made to his mistress’ eyebrow. Then, a soldier; 
 Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard ; 
 
 Jealous in honour; sudden and quick in quarrel; 
 Seeking the bubble reputation 
 Even in the cannon’s mouth. 
 
 And then, the justice 
 
 With fair round belly, with good capon lined; 
 With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut; 
 
 Full of wise saws and modem instances ; 
 
 And so he plays his part. 
 
LIFE 
 
 437 
 
 LIFE 
 
 The sixth age shifts 
 Into the lean and slipper’d pantaloon ; 
 
 With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side ; 
 
 His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide 
 For his shrunk shank ; and his big manly voice, 
 Turning again towards childish treble, pipes 
 And whistles in his sound. 
 
 Last scene of all, 
 
 That ends this strange, eventful history, 
 
 Is second childishness and mere oblivion ; 
 
 Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 2267. LIFE. Protracted 
 
 ‘ Enlarge my life with multitude of days ! ’ 
 
 In health, in sickness, thus the suppliant prays ! 
 Hides from himself his state, and shuns to know 
 That life protracted is protracted woe.— Johnson 
 
 2268. LIFE. Providence in 
 
 All’s for the best; be sanguine and cheerful; 
 
 Trouble and sorrow are friends in disguise ; 
 Nothing but folly goes faithless and fearful; 
 
 Courage for ever is happy and wise. 
 
 All’s for the best, if a man would but know it; 
 
 Providence wishes us all to be blest; 
 
 This is no dream of the pundit or poet; 
 
 Heaven is gracious, and, All’s for the best. 
 
 All’s for the best; then fling away terrors ; 
 
 Meet all your fears and your foes in the van ; 
 And in the midst of your dangers or errors, 
 
 Trust like a child, while you strive like a man. 
 All’s for the best; unbias’d, unbounded, 
 
 Providence reigns from the east to the west; 
 And, by both wisdom and mercy surrounded, 
 Hope, and be happy, that All’s for the best. 
 
 Tapper. 
 
 2269. LIFE. Purpose in 
 
 Live to do good; but not with thought to win 
 From man return of any kindness done ; 
 Remember Him who died on cross for sin, 
 
 The merciful, the meek, rejected One : 
 
 When He was slain for crime of doing good, 
 
 Canst thou expect return of gratitude ? 
 
 Do good to all ; but while thou servest best, 
 
 And at thy greatest cost, nerve thee to bear, 
 When thine own heart with anguish is opprest, 
 The cruel taunt, the cold averted air, 
 
 From lips which thou hast taught in hope to pray, 
 And eyes whose sorrows thou hast wiped away. 
 
 Still do thou good ; but for His holy sake 
 Who died for thine ; fixing thy purpose ever 
 
 High as His throne no wrath of man can shake : 
 
 So shall He own thy generous endeavour, 
 
 And take thee to His conqueror’s glory up, 
 
 When thou hast shared the Saviour’s bitter cup. 
 
 Do nought but good ; for such the noble strife 
 Of virtue is, ’gainst wrong to venture love, 
 
 And for thy foe devote a brother’s life, 
 
 Content to wait the recompense above ; 
 
 Brave for the truth, to fiercest insult meek, 
 
 In mercy strong, in vengeance only weak. 
 
 Bethune. 
 
 2270. LIFE. Purpose in 
 
 I live for those who love me, 
 
 For those I know are true, 
 
 For the heaven that smiles above me, 
 
 And awaits my spirit too ; 
 
 For all human ties that bind me, 
 
 For the task by God assign’d me, 
 
 For the bright hopes left behind me, 
 
 And the good that I can do. 
 
 I live to learn their story 
 
 Who’ve suffer’d for my sake, 
 
 To emulate their glory, 
 
 And follow in their wake ; 
 
 Bards, martyrs, patriots, sages, 
 
 The noble of all ages, 
 
 Whose deeds crowd history’s pages 
 And Time’s great volume make. 
 
 I live to hail that season, 
 
 By gifted minds foretold, 
 
 When men shall live by reason 
 And not alone by gold— 
 
 When man to man united, 
 
 And every wrong thing righted, 
 
 The whole world shall be lighted 
 As Eden was of old. 
 
 I live to hold communion 
 With all that is divine, 
 
 To feel there is a union 
 
 ’Twixt nature’s heart and mine ; 
 
 To profit by affliction, 
 
 Reap truths from fields of fiction. 
 
 Grow wiser from conviction, 
 
 And fulfil each great design. 
 
 I live for those who love me, 
 
 For those who know me true, 
 
 For the heaven that smiles above me, 
 
 And awaits my spirit too ; 
 
 For the wrong that needs resistance, 
 
 For the cause that lacks assistance, 
 
 For the future in the distance, 
 
 And the good that I can do.— Banks. 
 
LIFE 
 
 43 § 
 
 LIFE 
 
 2271. LIFE. Quiet 
 
 Happy the man, whose wish and care 
 A few paternal acres bound, 
 
 Content to breathe his native air 
 In his own ground. 
 
 Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, 
 Whose flocks supply him with attire ; 
 
 Whose trees in summer yield him shade, 
 
 In winter, fire. 
 
 Blest, who can unconcern’dly find 
 
 Hours, days, and years slide soft away 
 In health of body, peace of mind, 
 
 Quiet by day, 
 
 Sound sleep by night; study and ease 
 Together mix’d ; sweet recreation, 
 
 And innocence, which most does please 
 With meditation. 
 
 Thus let me live, unseen, unknown ; 
 
 Thus unlamented let me die ; 
 
 Steal from the world, and not a stone 
 Tell where I lie.— Pope. 
 
 2272. LIFE : reasons for its prolongation. 
 
 Not now, my child—a little more rough tossing, 
 
 A little longer on the billows’ foam ; 
 
 A few more journeyings in the desert-darkness, 
 
 And theft the sunshine of thy Father’s home ! 
 
 Not now —for I have wanderers in the distance, 
 
 And thou must call them in with patient love; 
 Not now —for I have sheep upon the mountains, 
 And thou must follow them where’er they rove. 
 Not now —for I have loved ones sad and weary ; 
 
 Wilt thou not cheer them with a kindly smile? 
 Sick ones, who need thee in their lonely sorrow; 
 
 YV ilt thou not tend them yet a little while ? 
 
 Not now —for wounded hearts are sorely bleeding, 
 And thou must teach those widow’d hearts to sing ; 
 Not now —for orphans’ tears are thickly falling; 
 
 They must be gather’d ’neath some sheltering wing. 
 Go with the name of Jesus to the dying, 
 
 And speak that name in all its living power. 
 
 Why should thy fainting heart grow chill and weary ? 
 
 Canst thou not watch with Me one little hour ? 
 One little hour ! and then the glorious crowning, 
 
 The golden harp-strings, and the victor’s palm ; 
 One little hour ! and then the Hallelujah ! 
 
 Eternity’s long, deep thanksgiving psalm ! 
 
 2273. LIFE. Retrospect of 
 
 My feeble bark has reach’d the shore, 
 
 And life’s tempestuous sea is pass’d ; 
 
 Trembling I trace my perils o’er 
 And yield my dread account at last. 
 
 The rival arts that charm’d my youth, 
 
 Those fancies of my wayward mind, 
 
 Those winning dreams of love and truth, 
 
 Are vain delusions all, I find. 
 
 A double death appals me now ; 
 
 The one draws near with rapid strides, 
 
 The other with his awful brow 
 Time from eternity divides. 
 
 Sculpture and painting, rival arts ! 
 
 Y e can no longer soothe my breast; 
 
 ’1 is love Divine alone imparts 
 The promise of a future rest. 
 
 On that my trembling soul relies— 
 
 My trust the cross, my hope the skies. 
 
 Michel Angelo. 
 
 Though varying wishes, hopes, and fears, 
 Fever’d the progress of these years, 
 
 Yet now, days, weeks, and months, but seem 
 The recollection of a dream.— Scott. 
 
 YV ho that hath ever been 
 Could bear to be no more ? 
 
 Yet who would tread again the scene 
 He trod through life before?— 
 
 James Montgomery. 
 
 2274- LIFE. River of 
 
 There is a pure and tranquil wave, 
 
 That rolls around the throne of love, 
 
 YVhose waters gladden as they lave 
 The peaceful shores above. 
 
 YVhile streams, which on that tide depend, 
 Steal from those heavenly shores away, 
 
 And on this desert world descend 
 O’er weary lands to stray ; 
 
 The pilgrim faint, and nigh to sink 
 Beneath his load of earthly woe. 
 
 Refresh’d beside their verdant brink, 
 
 Rejoices in their flow.— Ball. 
 
 22 75 - LIFE. Rule for the conduct of 
 
 Courage, brother, do not stumble, 
 
 Though thy path be dark as night; 
 
 There’s a star to guide the humble— 
 
 Trust in God and do the right. 
 
 Let the road be rough and dreary, 
 
 And its end far out of sight, 
 
 Foot it bravely ! strong or weary, 
 
 I rust in God and do the right. 
 
 Perish policy and cunning ! 
 
 Perish all that fears the light! 
 
LIFE 
 
 LIFE 
 
 439 
 
 Whether losing, whether winning, 
 
 Trust in God and do the right. 
 
 Trust no party, sect, or faction,— 
 
 Trust no leaders in the fight; 
 
 But in every word or action 
 Trust in God and do the right. 
 
 Trust no lovely forms of passion,— 
 
 Friends may look like angels bright; 
 
 Trust no custom, school, or fashion ; 
 
 Trust in God and do the right. 
 
 Simple rule, and safest guiding, 
 
 Inward peace and inward might, 
 
 Star upon our path abiding,— 
 
 Trust in God and do the right. 
 
 Some will hate thee, some will love thee, 
 Some will flatter, some will slight; 
 
 Cease from man and look above thee, 
 
 Trust in God and do the right. 
 
 Norman Macleod. 
 
 2276. LIFE. Rules for the conduct of 
 
 Not love thy life, nor hate ; but what thou liv’st 
 Live well; how long or short permit to Heaven. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 Men should strive to live well, not to live long. 
 
 Earl of Sterling. 
 
 On parent knees, a naked new-born child, 
 
 Weeping thou sat’st, while all around thee smiled ; 
 So live, that, sinking in thy last long sleep, 
 
 Calm thou may’st smile, while all around thee weep. 
 
 Sir IV. Jones : from the Persian . 
 
 So to live that when the sun 
 Of our existence sinks in night, 
 
 Memorials sweet of mercies done 
 
 May shrine our names in memory’s light, 
 
 And the blest seeds we scatter’d bloom 
 A hundred-fold in days to come.— Bowring. 
 
 2277. LIFE. Sadness of 
 
 SAD is our youth, for it is ever going, 
 
 Crumbling away beneath our very feet; 
 
 Sad is our life, for onward it is flowing 
 In current unperceived, because so fleet. 
 
 Sad are our hopes, for they were sweet in sowing— 
 But tares, self-sown, have overtopp’d the wheat ; 
 Sad are our joys, for they were sweet in blowing— 
 And still, oh still, their dying breath is sweet; 
 And sweet is youth, although it hath bereft us 
 Of that which made our childhood sweeter still ; 
 And sweet is middle life, for it hath left us 
 A nearer good to cure an older ill • 
 
 And sweet are all things, when we learn to prize 
 them, 
 
 Not for their sake, but His, who grants them or 
 denies them !— Aubrey De Vere. 
 
 2278. LIFE. Sameness/of 
 
 If like a hundred years, or e’er so few, 
 
 ’Tis repetition all, and nothing new: 
 
 A fair where thousands meet, but none can stay ; 
 
 An inn where travellers bait, then post away. 
 
 Fawkes , 
 
 Life is a waste of wearisome hours, 
 
 Which seldom the rose of enjoyment adorns ; 
 
 And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers 
 Is always the first to be touch d by the thorns. 
 
 Moore. 
 
 2279. LIFE. Seasons of 
 
 Perceiv’st thou not the process of the year, 
 
 How the four seasons in four forms appear, 
 Resembling human life in every shape they weai ? 
 Spring first, like infancy, shoots out her head, 
 
 With milky juice requiring to be fed : 
 
 Helpless, though fresh, and wanting to be led. 
 
 The green stem grows in stature and in size, 
 
 But only feeds with hope the farmer’s eyes; 
 
 Then laughs the childish year with flow’rets crown’d, 
 And lavishly perfumes the fields around, 
 
 But no substantial nourishment receives ; 
 
 Infirm the stalks, unsoiled are the leaves. 
 
 Proceeding onward whence the year began, 
 
 The Summer grows adult, and ripens into man. 
 
 This season, as is man, is most replete 
 With kindly moisture and prolific heat. 
 
 Autumn succeeds, a sober, tepid age, 
 
 Not froze with fear nor boiling into rage ; 
 
 More than mature, and tending to decay, 
 
 When our brown locks repine to mix with odious 
 
 grey. 
 
 Last, Winter creeps along with tardy pace : 
 
 Sour is his front, and furrow’d is his face ; 
 
 His scalp if not dishonour’d quite of hair, 
 
 The ragged fleece is thin, and thin is worse than 
 
 bare. 
 
 E’en our own bodies daily change receive, 
 
 Some part of what was theirs before they leave ; 
 
 Nor are to-day what yesterday they were : 
 
 Nor the whole same to-morrow will appear. 
 
 Ovid , tr. by Dryden. 
 
 2280. LIFE: soon over. 
 
 Our life so fast away doth slide 
 As doth an hungry eagle through the wind, 
 
 Or as a ship transported with the tide, 
 
 Which in their passage leave no print behind, 
 
 Davies. 
 
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 440 
 
 LIFE 
 
 2281. LIFE. Theories of 
 
 ‘Live while you live,’ the epicure would say, 
 
 ‘ And seize the pleasures of the present day ! ’ 
 ‘Live while you live,’ the sacred preacher cries, 
 
 ‘ And give to God each moment as it flies ! ’ 
 Lord, in my views let both united be— 
 
 I live in pleasure when I live to Thee ! 
 
 Doddridge. 
 
 2282. LIFE. Time of 
 
 The past is a dream, 
 
 The future a breath, 
 
 The present a gleam 
 From birth unto death. 
 
 Oriental , tr. by W. L. Alger. 
 
 2283. LIFE : uncertain. 
 
 The youngest in the morning are not sure 
 That till the night their life they can secure. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 Then let us fill 
 
 This little interval, this pause of life, 
 
 With all the virtues we can crowd into it. 
 
 Addison. 
 
 Catch, then, oh catch the transient hour; 
 
 Improve each moment as it flies ; 
 
 Life’s a short summer—man a flower- 
 He dies—alas ! how soon he dies ! 
 
 Johnson. 
 
 2284. LIFE. Unity of 
 
 My heart leaps up when I behold 
 A rainbow in the sky ; 
 
 So was it when my life began, 
 
 So is it now I am a man, 
 
 So be it when I shall grow old, 
 
 Or let me die ! 
 
 The Child is father of the Man ; 
 
 And I could wish my days to be 
 Bound each to each by natural piety. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 2285. LIFE: unsubstantial. 
 
 The cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces, 
 The solemn temples, the great globe itself, 
 
 Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve ! 
 
 And, like this unsubstantial pageant faded, 
 Leave not a rack behind: we are such stuff 
 As dreams are made of, and our little life 
 Is rounded with a sleep.— Shakespeare. 
 
 2286. LIFE: up-hill. 
 
 Does the road wind up-hill all the way ? 
 
 Yes, to the very end. 
 
 Will the day’s journey take the whole long day? 
 From morn to night, my friend. 
 
 But is there for the night a resting-place ? 
 
 A roof for when the slow dark hours begin. 
 May not the darkness hide it from my face? 
 You cannot miss that inn. 
 
 Shall I meet other wayfarers at night ? 
 
 Those who have gone before. 
 
 Then must I knock, or call when just in sight? 
 They will not keep you standing at the door. 
 
 Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak ? 
 
 Of labour you shall find the sum. 
 
 Will there be beds for me and all who seek ? 
 
 Yea, beds for all who come. 
 
 Christina G. Rossetti. 
 
 2287. LIFE. Use of 
 
 This world is but the rugged road 
 Which leads us to the bright abode 
 Of peace above ; 
 
 So let us choose that narrow way, 
 
 Which leads no traveller’s foot astray 
 From realms of love. 
 
 Our cradle is the starting-place, 
 
 Life is the running of the race, 
 
 We reach the goal 
 When, in the mansions of the blest, 
 
 Death leaves to its eternal rest 
 The weary soul. 
 
 Did we but use it as we ought, 
 
 This world would school each wandering thought 
 To its high state. 
 
 Faith wings the soul beyond the sky, 
 
 Up to that better world on high, 
 
 For which we wait. 
 
 Manrique , tr. by Longfellow. 
 
 2288. LIFE. Value of 
 
 Reflect that life and death, affecting sounds, 
 
 Are only varied modes of endless being. 
 
 Reflect that life, like every other blessing, 
 
 Derives its value from its use alone ; 
 
 Not for itself but for a nobler end 
 
 Th’ Eternal gave it, and that end is virtue. 
 
 When inconsistent with the greater good, 
 
 Reason commands to cast the less away ; 
 
 Thus life with loss of wealth is well preserved, 
 And virtue cheaply saved with loss of life. 
 
 Johnson. 
 
 2289. LIFE. Verge of 
 
 Where sky begins or sea-line ends 
 In yon horizon’s mysteries, 
 
 No eye can mark, so softly blends 
 The sea’s and sky’s infinities. 
 
LIFE 
 
 441 
 
 LITANY 
 
 The blue sea wears a crown of flame, 
 
 The rosy clouds drink sapphire dew, 
 
 Till, melted into each, no name 
 Of human birth defines the hue. 
 
 And thus the mortal life, meseems, 
 
 At waning tide shall woven be 
 With life immortal—earth’s best dreams 
 And heaven’s fused in harmony. 
 
 Till only infinite wisdom knows 
 
 The word, beyond our speech’s range, 
 
 To paint the mystic light that throws 
 Its veil of peace about the change. 
 
 2290. LIFE. Way of 
 
 Our lives are rivers, gliding free 
 To that unfathom’d, boundless sea, 
 
 The silent grave ! 
 
 Thither all earthly pomp and boast 
 Roll, to be swallow’d up and lost 
 In one dark wave. 
 
 Thither the mighty torrents stray, 
 
 Thither the brook pursues its way, 
 
 And tinkling rill.— Manrique. 
 
 2291. LIFE. Web of 
 
 The web of our life is of a mingled 
 Yarn, good and ill together: Our virtues 
 Would be proud, if our faults whipt them not; and 
 Our crimes would despair, if they were not 
 Cherish’d by our virtues. —Shakespeare. 
 
 2292. LIGHT. 
 
 Hail, holy Light, offspring of heaven first born, 
 
 Or of th’ Eternal co-eternal beam, 
 
 May I express thee unblamed ? Since God is Light, 
 And never but in unapproached light 
 Dwelt from eternity, dwelt then in thee, 
 
 Bright effluence of bright essence increate. 
 
 Or hear’st thou rather pure ethereal stream, 
 
 Whose fountain who shall tell ? Before the sun, 
 Before the heavens thou wert, and at the voice 
 Of God, as with a mantle, didst invest 
 The rising world of waters dark and deep, 
 
 Won from the void and formless infinite !— Milton. 
 
 Prime cheerer, Light! 
 
 Of all material beings, first and best ! 
 
 Efflux divine ! Nature’s resplendent robe ! 
 
 Without whose vesting beauty, all were wrapt 
 In unessential gloom ! and thou, O Sun ! 
 
 Soul of surrounding worlds, in whom, best seen, 
 Shines out thy Maker \—Thomson. 
 
 Walk 
 
 Boldly and wisely in that light thou hast 
 There is a hand above will help thee on. — Bailey. 
 
 2293. LITANY. A 
 
 Thou who dost dwell alone, 
 
 Thou who dost know Thine own, 
 
 Thou to whom all are known 
 From the cradle to the grave, 
 
 Save, oh save ! 
 
 From the world’s temptations ; 
 
 From tribulations ; 
 
 From that fiei’ce anguish 
 Wherein we languish ; 
 
 From that torpor deep 
 Wherein we lie asleep, 
 
 Heavy as death, cold as the grave,— 
 
 Save, oh save! 
 
 When the soul, growing clearer, 
 
 Sees God no nearer ; 
 
 When the soul, mounting higher, 
 
 To God comes no nigher ; 
 
 But the arch-fiend Pride 
 Mounts at her side, 
 
 Foiling her high emprise, 
 
 Sealing her eagle eyes, 
 
 And, when she fain would soar, 
 
 Makes idols to adore ; 
 
 Changing the pure emotion 
 Of her high devotion 
 To a skin-deep sense 
 Of her own eloquence, 
 
 Strong to deceive, strong to enslave,— 
 
 Save, oh save ! 
 
 From the ingrain’d fashion 
 Of this earthly nature, 
 
 That mars Thy creature ; 
 
 From grief that is but passion ; 
 
 From mirth that is but feigning ; 
 
 From tears that bring no healing ; 
 
 From weak and wild complaining,— 
 
 Thine own strength revealing, 
 
 Save, oh save ! 
 
 From doubt where all is double, 
 
 Where wise men are not strong, 
 
 Where comfort turns to trouble, 
 
 Where just men suffer wrong, 
 
 Where sorrow treads on joy, 
 
 Where sweet things soonest cloy, 
 
 Where faiths are built on dust, 
 
 Where love is half mistrust,— 
 
 Hungry, and barren, and sharp as the sea,— 
 Oh set us free ! 
 
LITANY 
 
 442 
 
 LITTLE THINGS 
 
 Oh let the false dream fly 
 Where our sick souls do lie 
 Tossing continually ! 
 
 Oh, where thy voice doth come, 
 
 Let all doubts be dumb ! 
 
 Let all words be mild, 
 
 All strifes be reconciled, 
 
 All pains beguiled ! 
 
 Light brings no blindness, 
 
 Love no unkindness, 
 
 Knowledge no ruin, 
 
 Fear no undoing': 
 
 From the cradle to the grave, 
 
 Save, oh save \—Matthew Arnold. 
 
 2294. LITANY. The soul’s 
 
 In the hour of trial, 
 
 Jesus, pray for me ; 
 
 Lest, by base denial, 
 
 I depart from Thee : 
 
 When Thou see’st me waver, 
 
 With a look recall, 
 
 Nor for fear or favour 
 Suffer me to fall. 
 
 With its witching pleasures, 
 
 Would this vain world charm ; 
 
 Or its sordid treasures 
 
 Spread to work me harm ; 
 
 Bring to my remembrance 
 Sad Gethsemane, 
 
 Or, in darker semblance, 
 Cross-crown’d Calvary. 
 
 If with sore affliction 
 Thou in love chastise, 
 
 Pour Thy benediction 
 On the sacrifice : 
 
 Then upon Thine altar, 
 
 Freely offer’d up, 
 
 Though the flesh may falter, 
 
 Faith shall drink the cup. 
 
 W hen in dust and ashes 
 To the grave I sink, 
 
 While heaven’s glory flashes 
 O er the shelving brink, 
 
 On Thy truth relying 
 
 Through the mortal strife, 
 
 Lord, receive me dying 
 
 To eternal life.— James Montgotnery. 
 
 2295* LITTLE CHILDREN : everywhere. 
 
 Sporting through the forest wide ; 
 
 Playing by the water side; 
 
 Wandering o’er the heathy fells ; 
 
 Down within the woodland dells ; 
 
 All among the mountains wild, 
 
 Dwelleth many a little child ! 
 
 In the baron’s hall of pride ; 
 
 By the poor man’s dull fireside : 
 
 ’Mid the mighty, ’mid the mean, 
 
 Little children may be seen, 
 
 Like the flowers that spring up fair, 
 
 Bright and countless everywhere ! 
 
 In the far isle of the main ; 
 
 In the desert’s lone domain ; 
 
 In the savage mountain-glen, 
 
 ’Mong the tribes of swarthy men ; 
 Wheresoe’er a foot hath gone ; 
 
 Wheresoe’er the sun hath shone 
 On a league of peopled ground, 
 
 Little children may be found ! 
 
 Blessings on them ! they in me 
 Move a kindly sympathy, 
 
 With their wishes, hopes, and fears ; 
 
 With their laughter and their tears ; 
 
 With their wonder so intense, 
 
 And their small experience ! 
 
 Little children, not alone 
 On the wide earth are ye known, 
 
 ’Mid its labours and its cares, 
 
 ’Mid its sufferings and its snares ; 
 
 Free from sorrow, free from strife, 
 
 In the world of love and life, 
 
 Where no sinful thing hath trod— 
 
 In the presence of your God, 
 
 Spotless, blameless, glorified— 
 
 Little children, ye abide \—Mary Howitt. 
 
 2296. LITTLE THINGS. Doing 
 
 Let us be content to work, 
 
 I o do the thing we can, and not presume 
 To fret because it’s little. ’Twill employ 
 Seven men, they say, to make a perfect pin. 
 
 Who makes the head consents to miss the point; 
 Who makes the point agrees to leave the head ; 
 And if a man should cry, ‘ I want a pin, 
 
 And I must make it straightway, head and point, 
 His wisdom is not worth the pin he wants. 
 
 E. B. Browning. 
 
 2297* LITTLE THINGS. Influence of 
 
 Letters join’d make words, 
 
 And words to books may grow, 
 
 As flake on flake, descending, 
 
 Forms an avalanche of snow. 
 
 A single utterance may good 
 Or evil thoughts inspire; 
 
LITTLE THINGS 
 
 443 
 
 LITTLE THINGS 
 
 One little spark, enkindled, 
 
 May set a town on fire. 
 
 What volumes may be written 
 With little drops of ink ! 
 
 How small a leak, unnoticed, 
 
 A mighty ship will sink ! 
 
 A tiny insect’s labour 
 Makes the coral strand, 
 
 And mighty seas are girdled 
 With grains of golden sand. 
 
 A daily penny, saved, 
 
 A fortune may begin : 
 
 A daily penny, squander’d, 
 
 May lead to vice and sin. 
 
 Our life is made entirely 
 Of moments multiplied, 
 
 As little streamlets, joining, 
 
 Form the ocean’s tide. 
 
 Our hours and days, our months and years, 
 Are in small moments given : 
 
 They constitute our time below, 
 
 Eternity in heaven. 
 
 2298. LITTLE THINGS : not to be despised. 
 
 Do thy little, God hath made 
 Million leaves for forest shade; 
 
 Smallest stars their glory bring— 
 
 God employeth everything. 
 
 Do thy little, and when thou 
 Feelest on thy pallid brow, 
 
 Ere has fled the vital breath, 
 
 Cold and damp the sweat of death— 
 
 Then the little thou hast done, 
 
 Little battles thou hast won, 
 
 Little masteries achieved, 
 
 Little wants with care relieved, 
 
 Little words in love express’d, 
 
 Little wrongs at once confess’d, 
 
 Little favours kindly done, 
 
 Little toils thou didst not shun, 
 
 Little graces meekly worn, 
 
 Little slights with patience borne— 
 
 These shall crown the pillow’d head, 
 
 Holy light upon thee shed; 
 
 These are treasures that shall rise 
 Far beyond the smiling skies. 
 
 2299. LITTLE THINGS : not to be despised. 
 
 Scorn not the slightest word or deed, 
 
 Nor deem it void of power, 
 
 There’s fruit in each wind-wafted seed, 
 Waiting its natal hour. 
 
 A whisper’d word may touch the heart, 
 
 And call it back to life ; 
 
 A look of love bid sin depart, 
 
 And still unholy strife. 
 
 No act falls fruitless ; none can tell 
 How vast its power may be ; 
 
 Nor what results enfolded dwell 
 Within it, silently. 
 
 Work and despair not ; give thy mite, 
 
 Nor care how small it be ; 
 
 God is with all that serve the right, 
 
 The holy, true, and free ! 
 
 2300. LITTLE THINGS. Power of 
 
 Little drops of water, 
 
 Little grains of sand, 
 
 Make the mighty ocean 
 And the beauteous land. 
 
 And the little moments, 
 
 Humble though they be, 
 
 Make the mighty ages 
 Of eternity. 
 
 Little deeds of kindness, 
 
 Little words of love, 
 
 Make our earth an Eden, 
 
 Like the heaven above. 
 
 2301. LITTLE THINGS. Regard 
 
 Regard no vice as small, that thou mayest biook it 
 No virtue small, that thou mayest overlook it. 
 
 Oriental , tr. by W. R. Alger . 
 
 2302. LITTLE THINGS. Results of 
 
 A traveller through a dusty road 
 Strew’d acorns on the lea, 
 
 And one took root and sprouted up, 
 
 And grew into a tree. 
 
 Love sought its shade at evening time 
 To breathe its early vows, 
 
 And age was pleased, in heats of noon, 
 
 To bask beneath its boughs ; 
 
 The dormouse loved its dangling twigs, 
 
 The birds sweet music bore ; 
 
 It stood a glory in its place, 
 
 A blessing evermore ! 
 
 A little spring had lost its way 
 Amid the grass and fern ; 
 
 A passing stranger scoop’d a well, 
 
 Where weary men might turn ; 
 
 He wall’d it in, and hung with care 
 A ladle at the brink : 
 
LITTLE THINGS 
 
 444 
 
 LIVING TO CHRIST 
 
 He thought not of the deed he did, 
 
 But judged that toil might drink. 
 
 He pass’d again : and lo! the well, 
 
 By summers never dried, 
 
 Had cool’d ten thousand parching tongues, 
 And saved a life beside! 
 
 A dreamer dropp’d a random thought, 
 ’Twas old, and yet was new ; 
 
 A simple fancy of the brain, 
 
 But strong in being true ; 
 
 It shone upon a genial mind, 
 
 And lo ! its light became 
 A lamp of life, a beacon ray, 
 
 A monitory flame. 
 
 The thought was small, its issue great, 
 
 A watch-fire on the hill; 
 
 It sheds its radiance far adown, 
 
 And cheers the valley still! 
 
 A nameless man amid a crowd 
 That throng’d the daily mart, 
 
 Let fall a word of hope and love, 
 
 Unstudied from the heart; 
 
 A whisper on the tumult thrown, 
 
 A transitory breath, 
 
 It raised a brother from the dust, 
 
 It saved a soul from death.— Mackay. 
 
 2303. LITTLE THINGS : tests. 
 
 ‘ Little by little,’ the tempter said, 
 
 As a dark and cunning snare he spread 
 For the young, unwary feet. 
 
 ‘ Little by little, and day by day, 
 
 I will tempt the careless soul astray 
 Into the broad, flowery way, 
 
 Until the ruin made is complete. 
 
 ‘Little by little,’ sure and slow, 
 
 We fashion our future of bliss or woe, 
 
 As the present passes away. 
 
 Our feet are climbing the stairway bright, 
 
 Up to the regions of endless light, 
 
 Or gliding downward into the night, 
 
 ‘ Little by little, and day by day.’ 
 
 2304. LIVES. Aimless 
 
 The river goes drifting past me, 
 
 On toward the great wide sea, 
 
 Dallying here with the lilies. 
 
 Woo’d by the wind and bee, 
 
 And whispering there to the rushes 
 And reeds in the eddies’ edge, 
 
 Where the plover’s nest is hidden, 
 
 Deep in the cool green sedge. 
 
 So, idle and dreaming ever, 
 
 It drifts to the great wide sea, 
 
 And is lost in the world of waters : 
 
 And it is a type of me. 
 
 My life goes drifting stilly, 
 
 Like a river, with the years, 
 
 And it has enough of sunshine 
 To make me long for tears. 
 
 I am drifting idly onward, 
 
 And I throw the hours away, 
 
 For an hour is counted squander’d. 
 
 If it holds no good, they say. 
 
 And if there is nought of evil, 
 
 And nothing of good in me, 
 
 Then life is an utter failure, 
 
 As it drifts to the unknown sea. 
 
 If the force in the idle river 
 Were made to work for men, 
 
 As it floats along to the ocean 
 To come not back again, 
 
 In turning the busy mill-wheel 
 On its green and pleasant edge, 
 
 Instead of its aimless drifting 
 Past lily and reed and sedge, 
 
 Then as it nears the ocean, 
 
 And is merged in the mighty flood, 
 
 They would say of the little river, 
 
 ‘ It has done the best it could.’ 
 
 I am tired of aimless drifting, 
 
 A leaf on the tide of time. 
 
 I will force the power within me 
 To deeds which, if not sublime, 
 
 Shall be something helpful and heartful 
 To those I meet in the way. 
 
 I will be no more like the river ; 
 
 Let me work as best I may ; 
 
 And when to find the New World 
 I sail o’er the great wide sea, 
 
 Let ‘ He did his best,’ be spoken 
 By those who come after me. 
 
 2305. LIVING TO CHRIST. 
 
 We are the Lord’s, whether we live or die ; 
 
 V e are the Lord’s, who for us all hath died ; 
 
 We are the Lord’s, and heirs of the Most High ; 
 
 We are the Lord’s, and shall the Lord’s abide. 
 
 We are the Lord’s—to Him, then, let us live, 
 
 V ith soul and body, both with deeds and words, 
 
 V hile heart, and tongue, and life assurance give 
 Of this most precious truth : we are the Lord's ! 
 
 V e are the Lord’s—so shall our hearts ne’er fail, 
 For one bright star its steady light affmds, 
 
LIVING WATERS 
 
 445 
 
 LONGING 
 
 Fo cheer and guide us through the gloomy vale, 
 
 It is the blessed word : we are the Lord’s'! 
 
 We are the Lord’s, who will preserve us still, 
 j When none beside Him help to us accords ; 
 
 In death’s last conflict we will fear no ill, 
 
 Thy word abideth true : we are the Lord’s. 
 
 2306. LIVING WATERS. 
 
 In some wild Eastern legend the story has been 
 told, 
 
 •Of a fair and wondrous fountain, that flow’d in times 
 of old, 
 
 Cold and crystalline its waters, brightly glancing in 
 the ray 
 
 Of the summer moon at midnight, or the sun at 
 height of day. 
 
 And a good angel, resting there, once in a favour’d 
 hour 
 
 Infused into the limpid depths a strange mysterious 
 power; 
 
 A hidden principle of life, to rise and gush again, 
 
 ] Where but some drops were scatter’d on the dry and 
 barren plain. 
 
 So the traveller might journey, not now in fear and 
 haste, 
 
 Far through the mountain desert, far o’er the sandy 
 waste, 
 
 If but he sought this fountain first, and from its won¬ 
 drous store 
 
 , The secret of unfailing springs alone with him he 
 bore. 
 
 Wild and fanciful the legend—yet may not meanings 
 high, 
 
 Visions of better things to come, within its shadow 
 lie? 
 
 ' Type of a better fountain, to mortals now unseal’d, 
 The full and free salvation in Christ our Lord re¬ 
 veal’d ? 
 
 Beneath the Cross those waters rise, and he who finds 
 them there 
 
 All through the wilderness of life the living stream 
 may bear ; 
 
 And blessings follow in his steps, until where’er he 
 goes, 
 
 The moral wastes begin to bud and blossom as the 
 rose.— H. L. L. 
 
 2307. LONELINESS : its lessons. 
 
 The shortest absence brings to every thought 
 Of those we love a solemn tenderness. 
 
 It is akin to death. Now, we confess, 
 
 Seeing the loneliness their loss has brought, 
 
 That they were dearer far than we had taught 
 Ourselves to think. We see that nothing less 
 Than hope of their return could cheer or bless 
 Our weary days. We wonder how, for aught 
 Or all of fault in them, we could find heed 
 Or anger, with their loving presence near, 
 
 Or wound them by the smallest word or deed. 
 
 Dear absent love of mine, it did not need 
 Thy absence to tell me that thou wert dear, 
 
 And yet the absence maketh it more clear. 
 
 Helen Hint. 
 
 2308. LONELY. Comfort for the 
 
 There is a land where beauty will not fade, 
 
 Nor sorrow dim the eye ; 
 
 Where true hearts will not sink nor be dismay’d, 
 
 And love will never die. 
 
 Tell me, I fain would go, 
 
 For I am burden’d with a heavy woe ; 
 
 The beautiful have left me all alone; 
 
 The true, the tender, from my path have gone, 
 
 And I am weak and fainting with despair ; 
 
 Where is it, tell me where ? 
 
 Friend, thou must trust in Him who trod before 
 The desolate path of life ; 
 
 Must bear in meekness, as He meekly bore, 
 
 Sorrow, and toil, and strife. 
 
 Think how the Son of God 
 These thorny paths has trod, 
 
 Yet tarried out for thee the appointed woe ; 
 
 Think of His loneliness in places dim, 
 
 When no man comforted or cared for Him; 
 
 Think how He pray’d, unaided, and alone, 
 
 In that dread agony, ‘ Thy will be done ! ’ 
 
 Friend, do not thou despair, 
 
 Christ, in His heaven of heavens, will hear thy 
 prayer !— Uhland. 
 
 2309. LONGING. Benefit of 
 
 The thing we long for, that we are, 
 
 For one transcendent moment, 
 
 Before the Present poor and bare 
 Can make its sneering comment. 
 
 Still, through our paltry stir and strife 
 Glows down the wish’d Ideal, 
 
 And Longing moulds in clay what Life 
 Carves in the marble Real; 
 
 To let the new life in, we know, 
 
 Desire must ope the portal; 
 
 Perhaps the longing to be so 
 Helps make the soul immortal. 
 
 Longing is God’s fresh heavenward will 
 With our poor earthward striving ; 
 
LONGING 
 
 446 
 
 LOOKING TO JESUS 
 
 We quench it that we may be still 
 Content with merely living ; 
 
 But, would we learn that heart’s full scope 
 Which we are hourly wronging, 
 
 Our lives must climb from hope to hope, 
 
 And realize the longing.— Lowell. 
 
 2310. LONGING. Emblem of 
 
 As plains the homesick ocean-shell 
 Far from its own remember’d sea, 
 Repeating, like a fairy spell 
 Of love, the charmed melody 
 It learn’d within that whispering wave, 
 Whose wondrous and mysterious tone 
 Still wildly haunts its winding cave 
 Of pearls, with softest music-moan— 
 
 So asks my homesick soul below, 
 
 For something loved, yet undefined ; 
 
 So mourns to mingle with the flow 
 Of music, from the Eternal Mind ; 
 
 So murmurs, with its child-like sigh, 
 
 The melody it learn’d above. 
 
 To which no echo may reply, 
 
 Save from thy voice, Celestial Love ! 
 
 Frances S. Osgood. 
 
 2311. LONGINGS. Diverse 
 
 An old farm-house with meadows wide, 
 
 And sweet with clover on each side ; 
 
 A bright-eyed boy who looks from out 
 The door with woodbine wreath’d about, 
 
 And wishes his one thought all day : 
 
 * Oh ! if I could but fly away 
 From this dull spot the world to see, 
 How happy, happy, happy, 
 
 How happy I would be! ’ 
 
 Amid the city’s constant din, 
 
 A man who round the world has been 
 Is thinking, thinking all day long ; 
 
 * Oh ! if I could only trace once more 
 The field-path to the farm-house door, 
 The old green meadows could I see, 
 
 How happy, happy, happy, 
 
 How happy I would be ! ’ 
 
 2312. LOOKING TO JESUS. 
 
 He bids us come ; His voice we know, 
 
 And boldly on the waters go, 
 
 To Him our Lord and God ; 
 
 We walk on life’s tempestuous sea, 
 
 For He who died to set us free, 
 
 Hath call’d us by His word. 
 
 Secure from troubled waves we tread, 
 
 Nor all the storms around us heed, 
 
 While to our Lord we look ; 
 
 O’er every fierce temptation bound, 
 
 The billows yield a solid ground, 
 
 The wave is firm as rock. 
 
 But if from Him we turn our eye, 
 
 And see the raging floods run high, 
 
 And feel our fears within ; 
 
 Our foes so strong, our flesh so frail, 
 
 Reason and unbelief prevail, 
 
 And sink us into sin. 
 
 Lord, we our unbelief confess, 
 
 Our little spark of faith increase, 
 
 That we may doubt no more ; 
 
 But fix on Thee a steady eye. 
 
 And on Thine outstretch’d arm rely, 
 
 Till all the storm is o’er. 
 
 2313. LOOKING TO JESUS. 
 
 Jesus in thy memory keep, 
 
 Would’st thou be God’s child and friend ; 
 Jesus in thy heart shrined deep, 
 
 Still thy gaze on Jesus bend. 
 
 In thy toiling, in thy resting, 
 
 Look to Him with every breath, 
 
 Look to Jesus’ life and death. 
 
 Look to Jesus, till reviving 
 Faith and love thy life-springs swell; 
 Strength for all things good deriving 
 From Him who did all things well : 
 Work, as He. did, in thy season, 
 
 Works which shall not fade away, 
 
 Work while it is call’d to-day. 
 
 Look to Jesus^ prayerful, waking, 
 
 When thy feet on roses tread ; 
 
 Follow, worldly pomp forsaking, 
 
 With thy cross where He hath led. 
 
 Look to Jesus in temptations, 
 
 Baffled shall the tempter flee, 
 
 And God’s angels come to thee. 
 
 Look to Jesus when distressed, 
 
 See what He, the Holy, bore ; 
 
 Is thy heart with conflict pressed ? 
 
 Is thy soul still harass’d sore ? 
 
 See His sweat of blood, His conflict, 
 
 Watch His agony increase, 
 
 Hear His prayer and feel His peace. 
 
 By want’s fretting cares surrounded, 
 
 Does long pain press forth thy sighs? 
 
 By ingratitude deep wounded, 
 
 Does a scornful world despise ? 
 
LOOKING TO JESUS 447 LORD'S SUPPER 
 
 Friends forsake thee or deny thee? 
 
 See what Jesus did endure, 
 
 He who as the light was pure. 
 
 Look to Jesus still to shield thee, 
 
 When no longer thou may’st live ; 
 
 In that last need He will yield thee 
 Peace the world can never give. 
 
 Look to Him, thy head low bending ; 
 
 He who finish’d all for thee, 
 
 Takes thee then with Him to be.— Franzen. 
 
 2314. LOOKING TO JESUS. 
 
 I look to Jesus, and the cloud 
 Of my transgressions melts away, 
 
 E’en as the blackest midnight shroud 
 Gives place to the returning day. 
 
 I look to Jesus, and the stains 
 
 Of my life’s guilt, though dark and deep, 
 Are wash’d, till not a spot remains, 
 
 And I can safely wake and sleep. 
 
 I look to Jesus, and the face 
 Of God is turn’d on me in love, 
 
 I feel a Father’s fond embrace, 
 
 And all my doubts and fears remove. 
 
 I look to Jesus, and behold ! 
 
 My heart is lighten’d of its cares, 
 
 My love for earthly things grows cold, 
 
 And Pleasure vainly spreads her snares. 
 
 I look to Jesus, when my foes 
 With violence my peace assail; 
 
 On His dear breast I find repose, 
 
 And all their hateful efforts fail. 
 
 I look to Jesus, and the sight 
 Of all that He endured for me, 
 
 Makes e’en my greatest suff’rings light 
 Compared with Plis deep agony. 
 
 I look to Jesus, when my zeal, 
 
 And faith, and love, grow dead and cold ; 
 Then doth He Calvary reveal, 
 
 And makes me in His service bold. 
 
 I look to Jesus, when the waves 
 Of dark corruptions rage within, 
 
 And He from their dominion saves, 
 
 From their pollution makes me clean. 
 
 I look to Jesus, and I see 
 
 Heaven’s golden portals opening wide, 
 With ready welcome e’en to me, 
 
 Though vile, to enter and abide. 
 
 Thus let me, Lord, while life doth last. 
 
 In faith look ever up to Thee, 
 
 And when life’s sinful days are past, 
 
 I shall Thy face in glory see.— C. T. Astley. 
 
 2315. LORD’S SUPPER: an Evangel. 
 
 No gospel like this feast 
 
 Spread for Thy Church by Thee ; 
 
 Nor prophet, nor evangelist 
 Preach the glad news so free. 
 
 All our redemption cost, 
 
 All our redemption won ; 
 
 All it has won for us, the lost; 
 
 All it cost Thee, the Son. 
 
 Thine was the bitter price,— 
 
 Ours is the free gift, given ; 
 
 Thine was the blood of sacrifice, 
 
 Ours is the wine of heaven. 
 
 Here we would rest midway, 
 
 As on a sacred height, 
 
 That darkest and that brightest day 
 Meeting before our sight. 
 
 From that dark depth of woes 
 Thy love for us has trod, 
 
 Up to the heights of bless’d repose 
 Thy love prepares with God ;— 
 
 Till from seifs chains released, 
 
 One sight alone we see, 
 
 Still at the cross, as at the feast, 
 
 Behold Thee, only Thee. 
 
 2316. LORD’S SUPPER. Invitation to the 
 
 Lo, the feast is spread to-day ! 
 
 Jesus summons, come away ! 
 
 From the vanity of life, 
 
 From the sounds of mirth or strife, 
 
 To the feast by Jesus given, 
 
 Come and taste the Bread of Heaven. 
 
 Why, with proud excuse and vain. 
 
 Spurn His mercy once again? 
 
 From amidst life’s social ties, 
 
 From the farm and merchandise, 
 
 Come, for all is now prepared ; 
 
 Freely given, be freely shared. 
 
 Blessed are the lips that taste 
 Our Redeemer’s marriage feast; 
 
 Blessed who on Him shall feed, 
 
 Bread of Life, and drink indeed. 
 
 Blessed, for their thirst is o’er, 
 
 They shall never hunger more. 
 
 Make, then, once again your choice, 
 
 Hear to-day His calling voice ; 
 
LOAD'S SUPPER 
 
 448 
 
 LORD'S SUPPER 
 
 Servants, do your Master’s will; 
 
 Bidden guests, His table fill : 
 
 Come, before His wrath shall swear, 
 
 Ye shall never enter there.— Alford. 
 
 2 3 J 7 - LORD’S SUPPER: its symbols. 
 
 Here, in figure represented, 
 
 See the Passion once again ; 
 
 Here behold the Lamb most Holy, 
 
 As for our redemption slain : 
 
 Here the Saviour’s Body, broken, 
 
 Here the Blood which Jesus shed, 
 
 Mystic Food of life eternal, 
 
 See for our refreshment spread. 
 
 Here shall highest praise be offer’d, 
 
 Here shall meekest prayers be pour’d ; 
 
 Here, with body, soul, and spirit, 
 
 God Incarnate be adored. 
 
 Holy Jesu ! for Thy coming 
 May Thy love our hearts prepare ; 
 
 Thine we fain would have them wholly ; 
 Enter, Lord, and tarry there.— Hewett. 
 
 2318. LORD’S SUPPER : our unworthiness to 
 partake of it. 
 
 The board is spread with meats divine, 
 
 O worn with strife and soil’d with sin ; 
 
 Draw near, love-thirsting soul of mine, 
 
 Draw near and take thy Saviour in. 
 
 I see the white prepared board, 
 
 I hear the words of love and grace, 
 
 But canst Thou deign to dwell, O Lord, 
 
 Within so foul and soil’d a place ? 
 
 Fair was the shrine the prophet chief 
 Made for Thy dwelling-place of old. 
 
 With curtain fine, and almond leaf, 
 
 And Shittim shaft, and ring of gold. 
 
 More fair on green Moriah’s breast 
 The house the monarch rear’d for Thee, 
 
 With costly gems and odours drest, 
 
 With burning lamp and molten sea, 
 
 With cedar flower and carven palm, 
 
 In purest gold of Parvaim set, 
 
 And pillars hung, like ships a-calm, 
 
 Each spell-bound in its gilded net. 
 
 Poor heart! ah, -where thy hallow’d fires, 
 
 Thy gold of consecrated days, 
 
 The broider’d veil of pure desires, 
 
 The cedar-scented songs of praise? 
 
 Ah me ! the world has come between 
 Thy soul and Christ ! the gold is dim, 
 
 The floor is soil’d He made so clean : 
 
 Is this a dwelling fit for Him ? 
 
 Yet come! I see the wine, the bread ! 
 
 That blood can wash away thy sin ; 
 
 Draw near, my soul, and be thou fed, 
 
 Nor doubt that Christ will enter in ! 
 
 Cecil F. Alexander . 
 
 2 3 I 9 - LORD’S SUPPER. Prayer at the 
 
 Look on us, Jesus ! we have come 
 With trustful hearts to seek Thy face ; 
 
 Now let the radiance of Thy smile, 
 
 Breaking upon us, fill the place. 
 
 We take our seats around the board, 
 
 Which Thou for fainting souls hast spread ; 
 
 But praise the Giver, ere we touch 
 The mystic cup or broken bread. 
 
 1 
 
 O wondrous emblems ! setting forth 
 
 His death from whom our life doth flow; 
 Never can finite reason sound 
 
 Such depth of love, such depth of woe. 
 
 Then, Saviour ! may each worldly thought 
 Be banish’d hence ; and every heart 
 Now centre where we hope at length 
 To meet and see Thee as Thou art! 
 
 Mrs Parker. 
 
 2320. LORD’S SUPPER. Prayer at the 
 
 Jesu, to Thy Table led, 
 
 Now let every heart be fed 
 With the true and living Bread. 
 
 While in penitence we kneel, j 
 
 Thy sweet presence let us feel, 
 
 All Thy wondrous love reveal! 
 
 While on Thy dear cross we gaze, 
 
 Mourning o’er our sinful ways, 
 
 Turn our sadness into praise ! 
 
 When we taste the mystic wine, 
 
 Of Thine outpour’d blood the sign, 
 
 Fill our hearts with love Divine ! 
 
 Draw us to Thy wounded side, 
 
 Whence there flow’d the healing tide; 
 
 There our sins and sorrows hide ! 
 
 From the bonds of sin release, 
 
 Cold and wavering faith increase, 
 
 Lamb of God, grant us Thy peace ! 
 
 Lead us by Thy pierced hand, 
 
 Till around Thy throne we stand, 
 
 In the bright and better land. 
 
LORD’S SUPPER 
 
 449 ' 
 
 LOSSES 
 
 2321. LORD’S SUPPER: the Communion of 
 Saints. 
 
 When the Paschal evening fell 
 Deep on Kedron’s hallow’d dell, 
 
 When around the festal board 
 Sate the Apostles with their Lord, 
 
 Then His parting word He said, 
 
 Bless’d the cup and broke the bread— 
 
 ‘ This whenever ye do see, 
 
 Ever more remember me.’ 
 
 Years have pass’d ; in every clime, 
 
 Changing with the changing time, 
 
 Varying through a thousand forms, 
 
 Torn by factions, rock’d by storms, 
 
 Still the sacred table spread, 
 
 Flowing cup and broken bread, 
 
 With that parting word agree, 
 
 ‘Drink and eat—remember Me.’ 
 
 When by treason, doubt, unrest. 
 
 Sinks the soul, dismay’d, opprest; 
 
 When the shadows of the tomb 
 Close us round with deep’ning gloom ; 
 
 Then bethink us at that board 
 Of the sorrowing, suffering Lord, 
 
 Who, when tried and grieved as we, 
 
 Dying, said ‘ Remember Me.’ 
 
 When through all the scenes of life, 
 
 Hearths of peace and fields of strife, 
 
 Friends or foes together meet, 
 
 Now to part and now to greet, 
 
 Let those holy tokens tell 
 Of that sweet and sad farewell, 
 
 And, in mingled grief or glee, 
 
 Whisper still, ‘ Remember Me.’ 
 
 When diverging creeds shall learn 
 Towards their central Source to turn ; 
 
 When contending Churches tire 
 * Of the earthquake, wind, and fire ; 
 
 Here let strife and clamour cease 
 At that still, small voice of peace— 
 
 ‘ May they all united be 
 In the Father and in Me.’ 
 
 When as rolls the sacred year, 
 
 Each fresh note of love we hear ; 
 
 When the Babe, the Youth, the Man, 
 
 Full of grace Divine we scan ; 
 
 When the mournful way we tread, 
 
 Where for us His blood He shed ; 
 
 When on Easter morn we tell 
 Flow He conquer’d Death and Hell; 
 
 When we watch Plis Spirit true 
 Heaven and earth transform anew ; 
 
 Then with quicken’d sense we see 
 Why He said ‘ Remember Me.’ 
 
 When in this thanksgiving feast 
 We would give to God our best, 
 
 From the treasures of His might 
 Seeking life and love and light; 
 
 Then, O Friend of humankind, 
 
 Make us true and firm of mind, 
 
 Pure of heart, in spirit free— 
 
 Thus may we remember Thee. 
 
 A. P. Stanley. 
 
 2322. LORD’S SUPPER : the soul’s feast. 
 
 Here, O my Lord, I see Thee face to face ! 
 
 Here would I touch and handle things unseen ; 
 Here grasp with firmer hand the eternal grace, 
 
 And all my weariness upon Thee lean. 
 
 Here would I feed upon the bread of God, 
 
 Here drink with Thee the royal wine of heaven ; 
 Here would I lay aside each earthly load, 
 
 Here taste afresh the calm of sin forgiven. 
 
 This is the hour of banquet and of song, 
 
 This is the heavenly table spread for me ; 
 
 Here let me feast, and feasting, still prolong 
 The brief, bright hour of fellowship with Thee. 
 
 Too soon we rise ; the symbols disappear ; 
 
 The feast, though not the love, is pass’d and gone 
 The bread and wine remove, but Thou art here,— 
 Nearer than ever, still my Shield and Sun. 
 
 Feast after feast thus comes and passes by, 
 
 Yet passing, points to the glad feast above, 
 
 Giving sweet foretaste of the festal joy, 
 
 The Lamb’s great bridal feast of bliss and love. 
 
 Bonar. 
 
 2323. LOSSES. Benefit of 
 
 Sorrows humanize our race ; 
 Tears are the showers that fertilize this world ; 
 
 And memory of things precious keepeth warm 
 The heart that once did hold them. 
 
 They are poor 
 
 That have lost nothing ; they are poorer far 
 Who, losing, have forgotten ; they most poor 
 Of all, who lose and wish they might forget. 
 
 For life is one, and in its warp and woof 
 There runs a thread of gold that glitters fair, 
 
 And sometimes in the pattern shows most sweet 
 Where there are sombre colours. It is true 
 That we have wept. But oh ! this thread of gold, 
 We should not have it tarnish ; let us turn 
 Oft and look back upon the wondrous web, 
 
 And when it shineth sometimes we shall know 
 
 That memory is possession .—Jean Ingelozv. 
 
 29 
 
LOSSES 
 
 450 
 
 LOVE 
 
 2324. LOSSES. Greatest 
 
 Upon the white sea sand 
 There sat a pilgrim band, 
 
 Telling the losses that their lives had known, 
 
 While evening waned away 
 From breezy cliff and bay, 
 
 And the strong tide went out with weary moan. 
 
 One spake with quivering lip, 
 
 Of a fair freighted ship, 
 
 With all his household to the deep gone down ; 
 
 But one had wilder woe. 
 
 For a fair face, long ago 
 Lost in the darker depths of a great town. 
 
 There were those who mourn’d their youth 
 With a most loving truth, 
 
 For its brave hopes and memories ever green ; 
 
 And the one upon the West 
 Turn’d an eye that could not rest 
 For far-off hills whereon its joys had been. 
 
 Some talk’d of vanish’d gold, 
 
 Some of proud honours told, 
 
 Some spake of friends that were their trust no more • 
 And one of a green grave 
 Beside a foreign wave, 
 
 That made him sit so lonely on the shore. 
 
 But when their tales were done. 
 
 There spake among them one, 
 
 A stranger, seeming from all sorrow free— 
 
 ‘ Sad losses have ye met, 
 
 But mine is heavier yet, 
 
 For a believing heart is gone from me.’ 
 
 ‘ Alas ! ’ these pilgrims said, 
 
 ‘ For the living and the dead, 
 
 For fortune’s cruelty, for love’s sure cross, 
 
 For the wrecks of land and sea ! 
 
 But, however it came to thee, 
 
 Thine, stranger, is life’s last and heaviest loss.’ 
 
 Frances Broivn. 
 
 2325. LOST. The living 
 
 Matron ! the children of whose love, 
 
 Each to his grave, in youth have pass’d, 
 
 And now the mould is heap’d above 
 The dearest and the last ! 
 
 Bride! who dost wear the widow’s veil 
 Before the wedding flowers are pale ! 
 
 Ye deem the human heart endures 
 No deeper, bitterer grief than yours. 
 
 Yet there are pangs of keener woe, 
 
 Of which the sufferers never speak, 
 
 Nor to the world’s cold pity show 
 The tears that scald the cheek, 
 
 Wrung from their eyelids by the shame 
 And guilt of those they shrink to name, 
 
 Whom once they loved with cheerful will. 
 
 And love, though fallen and branded, still. 
 
 Weep, ye who sorrow for the dead ; 
 
 Thus breaking hearts their pain relieve; 
 
 And reverenced are the tears ye shed, 
 
 And honour’d ye who grieve. 
 
 The praise of those who sleep in earth, 
 
 The pleasant memory of their worth, 
 
 The hope to meet when life is past, 
 
 Shall heal the tortured mind at last. 
 
 But ye, who for the living lost 
 That agony in secret bear, 
 
 Who shall with soothing words accost 
 The strength of your despair ? 
 
 Grief for your sake is scorn for them 
 Whom ye lament and all condemn ; 
 
 And o’er the world of spirits lies 
 A gloom from which ye turn your eyes.— Bryant. 
 
 2326. LOVE : a Divine gift. 
 
 True love’s the gift which God has given 
 To man alone beneath the heaven. 
 
 It is not fantasy’s hot fire, 
 
 Whose wishes, soon as granted, fly; 
 
 It liveth not in fierce desire, 
 
 With dead desire it doth not die ; 
 
 It is the secret sympathy, 
 
 The silver link, the silken tie, 
 
 Which heart to heart, and mind to mind, 
 
 In body and in soul can bind.— Scott. 
 
 2327. LOVE : cannot be forced. 
 
 Love will not be spurr’d to what it loathes. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 I cannot love him: 
 
 Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble, 
 
 Of great estate, of fresh and stainless youth ; 
 
 In voices well divulged, free, learn’d, and valiant, 
 And in dimensions, and the shape of nature, 
 
 A gracious person : but yet I cannot love him : 
 
 He might have took his answer long ago. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 2328. LOVE. Cause of 
 
 The cause of love can never be assign’d : 
 
 ’Tis in no face,—but in the lover’s mind.— Dryden. 
 
 Why did she love him ? Curious fool, be still : 
 
 I Is human love the growth of human will ?— Byroti. 
 
LOVE 
 
 LOVE 
 
 45i 
 
 2329. LOVE. Charms of 
 
 If thou would’st have thy charms enchant our eyes, 
 First win our hearts, for there thy empire lies : 
 Beauty in vain would mount a heartless throne, 
 
 Her right divine is given by Love alone. 
 
 Fair as thy charms in yonder glass appear, 
 
 Trust not their bloom, they’ll fade from year to year : 
 Would’st thou they still should shine as first they 
 shone, 
 
 Go, fix thy mirror in Love’s eye alone.— Moore. 
 
 2330. LOVE : Christ’s noblest gift. 
 
 Many a gift did Christ impart: 
 
 Noblest of them all is love,— 
 
 Love, a balm within the heart, 
 
 That can all its pains remove ; 
 
 Love, a star most bright and pure ; 
 
 Love, a gem of priceless worth, 
 
 Richer than man knows on earth ; 
 
 Love, like beauty, strong to lure : 
 
 Love, like joy, makes man her thrall, 
 
 Strong to please and conquer all. 
 
 Love can give us all things here, 
 
 Use and beauty cannot sever ; 
 
 Love can raise us to that sphere 
 
 Whence the soul tends heavenward ever. 
 Though one speak with angel-tongues 
 Bravest words of strength and fire, 
 
 If no love his heart inspire, 
 
 They are but as fleeting songs ; 
 
 All his eloquence shall pass 
 As the noise of sounding brass. 
 
 Science with her keen-eyed glance, 
 
 All the wisdom of the world, 
 
 Mysteries that the soul entrance, 
 
 Faith that mighty hills had hurl’d 
 From their ancient seats,—all this, 
 
 Wherein man most takes his pride, 
 
 Valueless is cast aside, 
 
 If the spirit there we miss 
 That can work from Love alone, 
 
 Not from pride in what is known. 
 
 Though I lavish’d all I have 
 On the poor in charity ; 
 
 Though I shrank not from the grave, 
 
 Or unmoved the stake could see ; 
 
 Though my body here were given 
 To the all-consuming flame,— 
 
 If my mind were still the same, 
 
 Meeter were I not for heaven, 
 
 Till by Love my works were crown’d, 
 
 Till in Love my strength were found. 
 
 Faith must conquer, Hope must bloom, 
 
 As our onward path we wend, 
 
 Else we came not through the gloom ; 
 
 But with earth they also end. 
 
 Thou, O Love, dost stretch afar, 
 
 Through the wide eternity ; 
 
 And the soul, array’d in thee, 
 
 Shines for ever as a star. 
 
 Faith and Hope must pass away : 
 
 Thou, O Love, endurest aye ! 
 
 2331. LOVE : clothes its objects with loveworthi¬ 
 
 ness. 
 
 Love adds a precious seeing to the eye. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind ; 
 And therefore is wing’d Cupid painted blind. 
 
 Shakespeare . 
 
 Oh ! only those 
 
 Whose souls have felt this one idolatry 
 Can tell how precious is the slightest thing 
 Affection gives and hallows ! A dead flow er 
 Will long be felt, remembrancer of looks 
 That made each leaf a treasure.—A. E. Landon. 
 
 2332. LOVE. Course of true 
 
 For aught that ever I could read, 
 
 Could ever hear by tale or history, 
 
 The course of true love never did run smooth : 
 
 But, either it was different in blood, 
 
 Or else misgraffed in respect of years ; 
 
 Or else it stood upon the choice of friends ; 
 
 Or, if there were a sympathy in choice, 
 
 War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it, 
 
 Making it momentary as a sound, 
 
 Swift as a shadow, short as any dream ; 
 
 Brief as the lightning in the collied night, 
 
 That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth, 
 And ere a man hath power to say, Behold ! 
 
 The jaws of darkness do devour it up : 
 
 So quick bright things come to confusion. 
 
 Shakespeare- 
 
 2333. LOVE : creative. 
 
 Love is the root of creation \ God s essence 5 woilds 
 without number 
 
 Lie in His bosom, like children ; He made them for 
 this purpose only. 
 
 Only to love and to be loved again, He breathed 
 forth His spirit 
 
 Into the slumbering dust, and upright standing, it 
 laid its 
 
 Hand on its heart, and felt it was warm with a flame 
 out of heaven.— Longfellow. 
 
LOVE 
 
 452 
 
 LOVE 
 
 2334. LOVE : delights to serve. 
 
 You know that love 
 
 Will creep in service where it cannot go. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 2335. LOVE. Departed 
 
 Call back the dew 
 That on the rose at mom was lying; 
 
 When the day is dying. 
 
 Bid the sunbeam stay : 
 
 Call back the wave 
 E’en while the ebbing tide’s receding. 
 
 Oh ! all unheeding 
 Of thy voice are they. 
 
 As vain the call 
 
 Distraction makes on love departed ; 
 
 When the broken-hearted 
 Bitter tears let fall : 
 
 Dew and sunshine, wave and flower, 
 Renew’d, return at destined hour, 
 
 But nevei yet was known the power 
 Could vanish’d love recall.— Dickens. 
 
 2336. LOVE. Devoted 
 
 Shall I desert him now 
 
 When grief has laid his blighting hand upon him ? 
 He who in all the splendour of his rank, 
 
 With royal favour crown’d, and martial fame— 
 
 By beauty woo’d, by chivalry adored— 
 
 In this full blaze of glory, bow’d his pride, 
 
 And knelt a captive at the captive’s feet ? 
 
 Is love alone in beds of roses found, 
 
 Beneath a heaven of fair, unshadow’d blue ? 
 
 No ! ’tis to shame, to sorrow, to despair, 
 
 That faithful love its holiest triumph owes ! 
 
 Caroline Lee Hentz. 
 
 2337. LOVE. Effects of 
 
 Love various minds does variously inspire: 
 
 He stirs in gentle natures gentle fire, 
 
 Like that of incense on the altar laid ; 
 
 But raging flames tempestuous souls invade : 
 
 A fire which every windy passion blows ; 
 
 With pride it mounts, and with revenge it glows. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 2338. LOVE for Christ: earnestly desired. 
 
 More love to Thee, O Christ, 
 
 More love to Thee ! 
 
 Hear Thou the prayer I make 
 On bended knee ; 
 
 This is my earnest plea— 
 
 More love, O Christ, to Thee, 
 
 More love to Thee ! 
 
 Once earthly joy I craved, 
 
 Sought peace and rest; 
 
 Now Thee alone I seek, 
 
 Give what is best: 
 
 This all my prayer shall be— 
 
 More love, O Christ, to Thee, 
 
 More love to Thee ! 
 
 Let sorrow do its work, 
 
 Send grief and pain, 
 
 Sweet are Thy messengers, 
 
 Sweet their refrain, 
 
 When they can sing with me— 
 
 More love, O Christ, to Thee, 
 
 More love to Thee ! 
 
 Then shall my latest breath 
 Whisper Thy praise ; 
 
 This be the parting cry 
 My heart shall raise, 
 
 This still its prayer shall be— 
 
 More love, O Christ, to Thee, 
 
 More love to Thee ! 
 
 2 339 - LOVE for Christ: its feebleness deplored. 
 
 ‘ Lovest thou Me ? ’ I hear my Saviour say : 
 Would that my heart had power to answer ‘ Yea ! 
 Thou knowest all things, Lord, in heaven above 
 And earth beneath ; Thou knowest that I love.’ 
 
 But ’tis not so : in word, in deed, in thought, 
 
 I do not, cannot, love Thee as I ought; 
 
 Thy love must give that power. Thy love alone ; 
 Theie s nothing worthy of Thee but Thine own : 
 Lord, with the love wherewith Thou lovest me, 
 Reflected on Thyself, I would love Thee. 
 
 Janies Montgomery. 
 
 2340. LOVE for Christ. Pure 
 
 Jesus, I love Thee,—not because 
 I hope for heaven thereby, 
 
 Nor yet because, if I love not, 
 
 I must for ever die : 
 
 I love Thee, Saviour dear, and still 
 I ever will love Thee, 
 
 Solely because my God Thou art, 
 
 Who first hast loved me. 
 
 For me to lowest depth of woe 
 Thou didst Thyself abase ; 
 
 For me didst bear the cross and shame, 
 
 And manifold disgrace; 
 
 For me didst suffer pains unknown, 
 Blood-sweat and agony, 
 
 Yea, death itself,—all, all for me, 
 
 Who was Thine enemy. 
 
LOVE 
 
 453 
 
 LOVE 
 
 Then why, O blessed Saviour mine, 
 
 Should I not love Thee well ?— 
 
 Not for the sake of winning heaven, 
 
 Nor of escaping hell; 
 
 Not with the hope of gaining aught, 
 
 Nor seeking a reward ; 
 
 But freely, fully, as Thyself 
 Hast loved me, O Lord! 
 
 Even so I love Thee, and will love, 
 
 And in Thy praise will sing, 
 
 Solely because Thou art my God 
 And my eternal King ! 
 
 St Francis: Xavier. 
 
 2341. LOVE for Christ. Resolved 
 
 Him on yonder cross I love ; 
 
 Nought on earth I else count dear ! 
 
 May He mine for ever prove, 
 
 Who is now so inly near ! 
 
 Here I stand : whate’er may come, 
 
 Days of sunshine or of gloom, 
 
 From this word I will not move: 
 
 Him upon the cross I love ! 
 
 ’Tis not hidden from my heart, 
 
 What true love must often bring ; 
 
 Want and grief have sorest smart, 
 
 Care and scorn can sharply sting ; 
 
 Nay, but if Thy will were such, 
 
 Bitterest death were not too much! 
 
 Dark though here my course may prove, 
 Him upon the cross I love ! 
 
 Rather sorrows such as these, 
 
 Rather love’s acutest pain, 
 
 Than without Him days of ease, 
 
 Riches false and honours vain. 
 
 Count me strange, when I am true, 
 
 What He hates I will not do ; 
 
 Sneers no more my heart can move : 
 
 Him upon the cross I love ! 
 
 Know ye whence my strength is drawn, 
 Fearless thus the fight to wage ? 
 
 Why my heart can laugh to scorn 
 Fleshly weakness, Satan’s rage? 
 
 ’Tis, I know, the love of Christ: 
 
 Mighty is that love unpriced ! 
 
 What can grieve me, what can move ? 
 
 Him upon the cross I love ! 
 
 Once the eyes that now are dim, 
 
 Shall discern the changeless love 
 That hath led us home to Him, 
 
 That hath crown’d us far above : 
 
 Would to God that all below 
 What that love is now might know ! 
 
 And their hearts this word approve : 
 
 Him upon the cross I love ! 
 
 Greding , tr. by Miss Winkworth. 
 
 2342. LOVE for God : a result of the love of God. 
 
 Thee will I love, my strength, and tower; 
 
 Thee will I love, my joy, and crown ; 
 
 Thee will I love with all my power, 
 
 In all Thy works, and Thee alone : # 
 
 Thee will I love till the pure fire 
 Fills all my soul with strong desire. 
 
 In darkness willingly I stray’d ; 
 
 I sought Thee, yet from Thee I roved ; 
 
 Far wide my wandering thoughts were spread, 
 Thy creatures more than Thee I loved : 
 
 And now, if more at length I see, 
 
 ’Tis through Thy light, and comes from Thee. 
 
 I thank Thee, uncreated Sun, 
 
 That Thy bright beams on me have shined ; 
 
 I thank Thee, who hast overthrown 
 
 My foes, and heal’d my wounded mind ; 
 
 I thank Thee, whose enlivening voice 
 Bids my freed heart in Thee rejoice. 
 
 Uphold me in the doubtful race, 
 
 Nor suffer me again to stray ; 
 
 Strengthen my feet with steady pace 
 Still to press forward in Thy way; 
 
 My soul and flesh, O Lord of might, 
 
 Fill, satiate, with Thy heavenly light! 
 
 Give to mine eyes refreshing tears ; 
 
 Give to my heart chaste, hallow’d fires ; 
 
 Give to my soul, with filial fears, 
 
 The love that all heaven’s host inspires, 
 
 That all my powers, with all their might, 
 
 In Thy sole glory may unite. 
 
 Thee will I love, my joy, my crown ; 
 
 Thee will I love, my Lord, my God 
 Thee will I love, beneath Thy frown 
 Or smile, Thy sceptre or Thy rod. 
 
 What though my heart and flesh decay ? 
 
 Thee shall I love in endless day. 
 
 Scheffler, tr. by J. IVesley. 
 
 2343. LOVE for God : how it is learned. 
 
 If I could love Thee, O my God, 
 
 As I my earthly friends have loved, 
 
 My heart would know a deeper joy, 
 
 And be by steadier purpose moved. 
 
LOVE 
 
 454 
 
 LOVE 
 
 The very mention of their names 
 Wakes in my heart a happy thrill, 
 
 That duty’s promptings never needs, 
 
 Nor conscious action of the will. 
 
 And to deserve their love, I strive 
 Against the sins that they may see, 
 
 And fiercer fight the secret faults 
 Known only to my God and me. 
 
 Yet, like a child that learns the notes 
 Whereof all harmonies are made, 
 
 * But cannot comprehend the strain 
 By some divine musician play’d, 
 
 I miss the perfect trust and love, 
 
 Haunted through all the gamut sweet 
 Of human love by nobler chords, 
 
 That make life’s melody complete. 
 
 For time and absence may destroy 
 Or weaken friendship’s blessed tie, 
 
 Or some unhappy circumstance 
 
 Make love, that seem’d abiding, die. 
 
 They say who love Thee well, O God, 
 
 That thus Thou leadest us to Thee; 
 
 That we must see our idols crush’d 
 Before from idols we are free. 
 
 I cannot ask to love them less ; 
 
 Each is a precious gift from Thee ; 
 
 And human love is grand enough 
 To hint what love Divine must be. 
 
 2 344 - LOVE for God : incompatible with love of 
 self. 
 
 The love of Thee flows just as much 
 As that of ebbing self subsides ; 
 
 Our hearts (their scantiness is such) 
 
 Bear not the conflict of two rival tides. 
 
 Both cannot govern in one soul; 
 
 Then let self-love be dispossess’d 
 
 The love of God deserves the whole, 
 
 And will not dwell with so despised a guest. 
 
 Madame Guyon. 
 
 2345. LOVE for God. Reasons for 
 
 Because when we forsook Thy ways, 
 Nor kept Thy holy will, 
 
 Thou wert not an avenging Judge, 
 
 But a gracious Father still; 
 
 Because we have forgot Thee, Lord, 
 But Thou hast not forgot,— 
 
 Because we have forsaken Thee, 
 
 But Thou forsakest not :— 
 
 Because, O Lord, Thou lovedst us 
 With everlasting love ; 
 
 Because Thou gav’st Thy Son to die, 
 That we might live above ; 
 
 Because when we were heirs of wrath, 
 Thou gav’st the hopes of heaven :— 
 We love because we much have sinn’d, 
 And much have been forgiven. 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 2346. LOVE. God’s culture of 
 
 God gives us love. Something to love 
 He lends us ; but when love is grown 
 To ripeness, that on which it throve 
 
 Falls off, and love is left alone.— Tennyson. 
 
 2347. LOVE. Growth of 
 
 Small is the soul’s first wound from beauty’s dart, 
 And scarce th’ unheeded fever warms the heart; 
 Long we mistake it under liking’s name, 
 
 A soft indulgence, that deserves no blame. 
 
 Excited, though, the smother’d fire at length 
 Bursts into blaze and burns with open strength ; 
 That image which before but soothed the mind 
 Now lords it there, and rages unconfined ; 
 
 Mixing with all our thoughts, it wastes the day, 
 
 And when night comes it dreams the soul away. 
 
 Hill. 
 
 2348. LOVE: hallows and perfects the humblest 
 
 service. 
 
 I WAS sitting alone towards the twilight, 
 
 With spirit troubled and vex’d, 
 
 With thoughts that were morbid and gloomy, 
 And faith that was sadly perplex’d. 
 
 Some homely work I was doing 
 For the child of my love and care, 
 
 Some stitches half wearily setting 
 In the endless need of repair. 
 
 We love Thee, Lord, because when we 
 Had err’d and gone astray, 
 
 Thou didst recall our wand’ring souls 
 Into the homeward way ; 
 
 When helpless, hopeless, we were lost 
 In sin and sorrow’s night, 
 
 Thou didst send forth a guiding ray 
 Of Thy benignant light:— 
 
 But my thoughts were about the ‘building,’ 
 The work some day to be tried ; 
 
 And that only the gold and the silver, 
 
 And the precious stones, should abide. 
 
 And remembering my own poor efforts, 
 
 The wretched work I had done, 
 
 And even when trying most truly, 
 
 The meagre success I had won, 
 
LOVE 
 
 455 
 
 LOVE 
 
 It is nothing but ‘wood, hay, and stubble,’ 
 I said ; ‘ it will all be burn’d ’— 
 
 This useless fruit of the talents 
 One day to be return’d. 
 
 ‘And I have so longed to serve Him, 
 
 And sometimes I know I have tried, 
 
 But I’m sure when He sees such building, 
 He will never let it abide.’ 
 
 Just then, as I turn’d the garment, 
 
 That no rent should be left behind, 
 
 My eye caught an odd little bungle 
 
 Of mending and patch-work combined. 
 
 My heart grew suddenly tender, 
 
 And something blinded my eyes, 
 
 With one of those sweet intuitions 
 That sometimes make us so wise. 
 
 Dear child ! she wanted to help me : 
 
 I knew ’twas the best she could do, 
 
 But oh, what a botch she had made it— 
 The grey mismatching the blue ! 
 
 And yet—can you understand it ?— 
 
 With a tender smile and a tear, 
 
 And a half-compassionate yearning, 
 
 I felt her grow more dear. 
 
 Then a sweet voice broke the silence, 
 
 And the dear Lord said to me, 
 
 ‘ Art thou tenderer for the little child 
 Than I am tender for thee l ’ 
 
 Then straightway I knew His meaning, 
 
 So full of compassion and love, 
 
 And my faith came back to its refuge 
 Like the glad returning dove. 
 
 So I thought, when the Master Builder 
 Comes down this temple to view, 
 
 To see what rents must be mended 
 And what must be builded anew, 
 
 Perhaps as he looks o’er the building 
 He will bring my work to the light, 
 And, seeing the marring and bungling, 
 And how far it all is from right, 
 
 He will feel as I felt for my darling, 
 
 And will say, as I said for her, 
 
 ‘ Dear child ! she wanted to help me, 
 And love for me was the spur. 
 
 ‘ And, for the real love that is in it, 
 
 The work shall seem perfect as mine, 
 And because it was willing service, 
 
 I will crown it with plaudit Divine. ’ 
 
 And there in the deepening twilight 
 I seem’d to be clasping a hand, 
 
 And to feel a great love constraining me, 
 
 Stronger than any command. 
 
 Then I knew by the thrill of sweetness, 
 
 ’Twas the hand of the Blessed One, 
 
 Which would tenderly guide and hold me 
 Till all the labour is done. 
 
 So my thoughts are never more gloomy, 
 
 My faith no longer is dim, 
 
 But my heart is strong and restful, 
 
 And mine eyes are unto Him. 
 
 2349. LOVE : hallows and perfects the humblest 
 service. 
 
 One day, in dreary mood, I sat and thought 
 Of all my blessed Lord had done for me; 
 
 And of the slight return my hands had wrought, 
 
 For all His loving-kindness full and free. 
 
 ‘ What can I do? My daily cares,’ I said, 
 
 ‘ Press hard upon me. I am weak and worn ; 
 
 A humble toiler for my daily bread. 
 
 Such gifts as mine so great a King would scorn.’ 
 
 At last, the while I made my sad complaint, 
 
 I turn’d to see beside me, fresh and fair, 
 
 As if they never knew an earthly taint, 
 
 A vase of flowers most exquisite and rare : 
 
 Blossoms soft-tinted as a sea-shell’s heart, 
 
 Blossoms as white as winter drifts of snow, 
 
 And blossoms that had caught by magic art 
 The splendour of high noon, the sunset’s glow: 
 
 A gift from one I loved ; a costly gift. 
 
 Beside it, in a little, snow-white vase, 
 
 Almost too frail its drooping head to uplift, 
 
 A tiny common rose had found a place. 
 
 And, looking on it, I could see again 
 
 The giver’s childish face upraised to mine ; 
 
 A pallid face that told of want and pain, 
 
 Though still with eager joy the eyes would shine. 
 
 ‘ My only rose ! ’ she cried with glad delight; 
 
 ‘ Because I love you, it is all for you.’ 
 
 And the frail flower was dearer in my sight, 
 
 Than my exotics rare in form and hue. 
 
 Thus thinking, suddenly there came to me 
 
 A thought like some glad sunbeam from above: 
 
 ‘ If love so glorifies a gift to thee, 
 
 Will the Lord scorn thy humble gifts of love?’ 
 
 A. E. S. 
 
 2350. LOVE. Hopefulness of 
 
 None without hope e’er loved the brightest fair; 
 But love can hope where reason would despair. 
 v Lord Lyttelton. 
 
LOVE 
 
 456 
 
 LOVE 
 
 2351. LOVE : indestructible. 
 
 Of valour, wit, virtue, and haughty thoughts, 
 Biave resolution, and divine discourse. 
 
 Chap 7 na 7 i. 
 
 ’Tis better to have loved and lost, 
 
 Than never to have loved at all.— Tennyson. 
 
 They sin who tell us love can die ! 
 
 With life all other passions fly, 
 
 All others are but vanity ; 
 
 In heaven ambition cannot dwell, 
 
 Nor avarice in the vaults of hell; 
 
 Earthly these passions of the earth, 
 
 They perish where they have their birth. 
 
 But love is indestructible, 
 
 Its holy flame for ever burneth, 
 
 From heaven it came, to heaven returneth : 
 For oft on earth a troubled guest, 
 
 At times deceived, at times oppress’d ; 
 
 It here is tried and purified, 
 
 Then hath in heaven its perfect rest : 
 
 It soweth here with toil and care, 
 
 But the harvest-time of love is there.— Southey. 
 
 2352. LOVE : insatiable. 
 
 Thirst and hunger may be satisfied ; 
 
 But this repletion is to love denied. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 2 353 - LOVE : its ennobling influence. 
 
 In loving thou dost well, in passion not, 
 
 Wherein true love consists not; love refines 
 The thoughts, and heart enlarges ; hath its seat 
 In reason, and is judicious ; is the scale 
 By which to heavenly love thou may’st ascend, 
 Not sunk in carnal pleasure, for which cause 
 Among the beasts no mate for thee was found. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 Love is a passion 
 
 Which kindles honour into noble acts.— Dry den. 
 
 Love is that passion which refines the soul ; 
 
 First made men heroes, and those heroes gods : 
 
 Its genial fires inform the sluggish mass ; 
 
 The rugged soften, and the tim’rous warm ; 
 
 Gives wit to fools and manners to the clown. 
 
 Iliggon. 
 
 ’Tis nature’s second sun, 
 
 Causing a spring of virtues where he shines ; 
 
 And as without the sun, the world’s great eye, 
 
 All colours, beauties, both of art and nature, 
 
 Are given in vain to man ; so wdthout love 
 All beauties bred in women are in vain, 
 
 All virtues born in men lie buried; 
 
 For love informs them as the sun doth colours ; 
 And as the sun reflecting his warm beams 
 Against the earth, begets all fruits and flowers; 
 
 So love, fair shining in the inward man, 
 
 Brings forth in him the honourable fruits 
 
 2354. LOVE : its pains. 
 
 As love can exquisitely bless, 
 
 Love only feels the marvellous of pain, 
 
 Opens new’- veins of torture in the soul, 
 
 And wakes the nerve where agonies are born. 
 
 S 77 iollett. 
 
 2 355 * LOVE : its power. 
 
 A trusting heart, a yearning eye, 
 
 Can win their w ? ay above : 
 
 If mountains can be moved by faith, 
 
 Is there less power in love ?— Faber. 
 
 2 356 - LOVE : its reward. 
 
 \ et, as in duty bound, they serve him on ; 
 Nor ease, nor wealth, nor life itself regard ; 
 For tis their maxim, Love is love’s reward. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 2 357 - LO'\ E. Maternal 
 
 A tender mother lives 
 
 In many lives ; through many a nerve she feels; 
 
 I rom child to child the quick affections spread ; 
 For ever wandering, yet for ever fix’d. 
 
 Nor does division weaken, nor the force 
 Of constant operation e’er exhaust 
 Parental love. All other passions change 
 ith changing circumstances ; rise or fall, 
 Dependent on their object; claim returns ; 
 
 Live on reciprocation, and expire 
 b nted by hope. A mother's fondness reigns 
 Without a rival, and wdthout an end. 
 
 Hamiah Moi-e. 
 
 2 35 & LO\ E of Christ: its constraining power. 
 
 O Lord, Thy love’s unbounded, 
 
 So full, so sweet, so free ! 
 
 Our thoughts are all confounded, 
 
 Whene’er we think on Thee : 
 
 For us 1 hou cam’st from heaven, 
 
 For us to bleed and die, 
 
 That, purchased and forgiven, 
 
 We might ascend on high. 
 
 Oh let this love constrain us 
 To give our hearts to Thee : 
 
 Let nothing henceforth pain us, 
 
 But that which paineth Thee; 
 
LOVE 
 
 457 
 
 LOVE 
 
 Our joy, our one endeavour, 
 
 Through suffering, conflict, shame, 
 
 To serve Thee, gracious Saviour, 
 
 And magnify Thy name. 
 
 2359. LOVE of Christ: its constraining and satis 
 fying power. 
 
 Jesus, whose name the angel hosts 
 Unceasing praise above, 
 
 Not all the joys our being boasts 
 Can move us like Thy love. 
 
 To Thee our fainting spirits cry: 
 
 When wilt Thou show Thy face ! 
 
 Oh, when our longings satisfy, 
 
 And fill us with Thy grace ! 
 
 We sinners, Lord, with earnest heart, 
 
 With sighs and prayers and tears, 
 
 To Thee our inmost cares impart, 
 
 Our burdens and our fears. 
 
 Thy sovereign grace can give relief, 
 
 Thou Source of peace and light; 
 
 Dispel the gloomy cloud of grief, 
 
 And make our darkness bright. 
 
 Around Thy Father’s throne on high, 
 
 All heaven Thy glory sings ; 
 
 And earth, for which Thou cam’st to die, 
 
 Loud with Thy praises rings. 
 
 Dear Lord, to Thee our prayers ascend ; 
 
 Our eyes Thy face would see: 
 
 Oh let our weary wanderings end, 
 
 Our spirits rest in Thee ! 
 
 St Bernard, tr. by Professor Dunn. 
 
 2360. LOVE of Jesus : its power. 
 
 We ask’d an Indian brother, a warrior of old, 
 
 How first among his people the Glad Tidings had 
 been told ? 
 
 How first the Morning Star arose on their long 
 heathen night, 
 
 Till souls who ‘sat in darkness’ were rejoicing in 
 the light ? 
 
 And he answer’d, ‘ Many a summer has come and 
 gone since then, 
 
 Yet well I can remember—I can see it all again. 
 
 ‘A teacher came among us, from the country of your 
 birth, 
 
 And told us of the living God, who made the 
 heaven and earth ;— 
 
 But we ask’d if he had been a fool, or thought that 
 we were so, 
 
 For who among our sons did not the One Great 
 Spirit know ? 
 
 ‘So he left us ;—and another told us much of sin and 
 shame, 
 
 And how for sinners was prepared a lake of quench¬ 
 less flame ;— 
 
 But we bade him teach these things at home, among 
 the pale-faced men, 
 
 And if they learn’d the lesson right, we too would 
 listen then. 
 
 ‘ At last another stranger came of calm and gentle 
 mien, 
 
 And eyes whose light seem’d borrow’d from yon blue 
 the clouds between ; 
 
 Still in my dreams I hear his voice, his smile I still 
 can see, 
 
 Though many a summer he has slept beneath the 
 cedar tree. 
 
 ‘ He told us of a Mighty One, the Lord of earth and 
 sky, 
 
 Who left His glory in the heavens for men to bleed 
 and die; 
 
 Who loved poor Indian sinners still, and long’d to 
 gain their love, 
 
 And be their Saviour here, and in His Father s 
 house above. 
 
 ‘And when his tale was ended—“My friends,” he 
 gently said, 
 
 “I am weary with my journey, and would fain lay 
 down my head ;—” 
 
 So beside our spears and arrows he laid him down 
 to rest, 
 
 And slept as sweetly as the babe upon its mother s 
 breast. 
 
 ‘ Then we look’d upon each other, and I whisper’d, 
 This is new, 
 
 Yes, we have had glad tidings, and that sleeper 
 knows them true ; 
 
 He knows he has a Friend above, or would he slum¬ 
 ber here, 
 
 With men of war around him, and the war-whoop 
 in his ear ? 
 
 ‘So we told him on the morrow, that he not journey 
 on, 
 
 But stay and tell us further of that loving, dying 
 One. 
 
 And thus we heard of Jesus first, and felt the won¬ 
 drous power 
 
 Which makes His people willing in His own accepted 
 hour.’ 
 
 Thus spoke our Indian brother ; and deeply, while 
 we heard, 
 
 One cheering lesson seem’d impress’d, and taught by 
 every word— 
 
LOVE 
 
 458 
 
 LOVE 
 
 How hearts, whose echoes silent long, no words of 
 terror move, 
 
 May answer from their inmost depths to the soft call 
 of love. 
 
 O mighty love of Jesus ! what wonders thou hast 
 wrought! 
 
 M hat victories thou yet shalt gain, surpassing human 
 thought! 
 
 Let Faith and Hope speed forward unto earth’s re¬ 
 motest bound, 
 
 Till eveiy tribe and nation shall have heard the joy¬ 
 ful sound !— H. L. L. 
 
 2361. LO\ E. Offering of 
 
 She brought her box of alabaster ; 
 
 The precious spikenard fill’d the room 
 W ith honour worthy of the Master, 
 
 A costly, rare, and rich perfume. 
 
 Her tears for sin fell hot and thickly 
 On His dear feet, outstretch’d and bare ; 
 Unconscious how, she wiped them quickly 
 With the long ringlets of her hair. 
 
 And richly fall those raven ti esses 
 Adown her cheek, like willow-leaves, 
 
 As stooping still, with fond caresses, 
 
 She plies hei task of love, and grieves. 
 
 Oh may we thus, like loving Mary, 
 
 Ever our choicest offerings bring, 
 
 Nor grudging of our toil, nor chary 
 Of costly service to our King ! 
 
 Methinks I hear from Christian lowly 
 Some hallow’d voice at evening rise, 
 
 Or quiet morn, or in the holy, 
 
 Unclouded calm of Sabbath skies,— 
 
 I bring my box of alabaster, 
 
 Of earthly loves I break the shrine, 
 
 And pour affections, purer, vaster, 
 
 On that dear head, those feet of Thine. 
 
 The joys I prized, the hopes I cherish’d, 
 d he fairest flowers my fancy wove, 
 
 Behold my fondest idols perish’d ; 
 
 Receive the incense of my love ! 
 
 What though the scornful world, deriding 
 Such waste of love, of service, fears ? 
 
 Still let me pour, through taunt and chiding, 
 
 The rich libation of my tears. 
 
 I bring my box of alabaster ; 
 
 Accepted let the offering rise ! 
 
 So grateful tears shall flow the faster, 
 
 In founts of gladness from mine eyes ! 
 
 C. L. Ford. 
 
 2362. LOV E. Prayer for 
 
 Hast Thou not bid us love Thee, God and King? 
 
 All, all Thine own, soul, heart, and strength, and 
 mind ; 
 
 I see Thy cross,—there teach my heart to cling J 
 Oh let me seek Thee, and oh let me find ! 
 
 Teach me to feel that Thou art always nigh ; 
 
 Teach me the struggles of the soul to bear, 
 
 To check the rising doubt, the rebel sigh ; 
 
 Teach me the patience of unanswer’d prayer. 
 
 Teach me to love Thee as Thine angels love, 
 
 One holy passion filling all my frame ; 
 
 The baptism of the heaven-descended Dove, 
 
 M> heart an altar, and Thy love the flame ! 
 
 Croly. 
 
 Oh, love me, Lord ! The way is hard, 
 
 The shadows gather fast; 
 
 To right and left the landmarks lean, — 
 
 I cry to Thee at last! 
 
 Oh, love me, Lord ! If love Thou wilt,— 
 
 Ah me ! why must I doubt ? 
 
 I feel I hy mighty tenderness 
 Enfold the world about. 
 
 I lead Thy W ord, with eager sense 
 See Thee around, above, 
 
 ^ et dare not think so poor a thing 
 As I can have Thy love. 
 
 Oh, take me, Lord ! Teach me to be 
 Thy child in simple trust, 
 
 In daily walk to serve Thee well 
 Till dust return to dust. 
 
 Till dust return to dust, dear Lord, 
 
 fill soul shall speed to Thee,_ 
 
 Oh, love me, love me, love me, Lord ! 
 
 ' Now and eternally. —Mary Mapes Dodge. 
 
 2363* LOVE. Redeeming 
 
 Love strong as death, nay stronger, 
 
 Love mightier than the grave \ 
 
 Broad as the earth, and longer 
 Than ocean’s widest wave. 
 
 This is the love that sought us. 
 
 This is the love that bought us, 
 
 This is the love that brought us 
 To gladdest day from saddest night, 
 
 From deepest shame to glory bright, 
 
 From depths of death to life’s fair height, 
 
 From darkness to the joy of light.— Bonar. 
 
LOVE 
 
 459 
 
 LOVE 
 
 2364. LOVE : seeks love. 
 
 All other debts may compensation find ; 
 
 But love is strict, and will be paid in kind. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 2365. LOVE : shows itself. 
 
 Thfv Hn nni- love that do not show their jo ve^ 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 2366. LOVE : the new commandment. 
 
 Beneath the shadow of the Cross, 
 
 As earthly hopes remove, 
 
 His new commandment Jesus gives, 
 
 His blessed word of love. 
 
 As is the golden mystery of sunset, 
 
 Or the sweet coming of the evening star, 
 
 Alike, and yet most unlike, every day, 
 
 And seeming ever best and fairest now, 
 
 A love that doth not kneel for what it seeks, 
 
 But faces Truth and Beauty as their peer, 
 
 Showing its worthiness of noble thoughts 
 By a clear sense of inward nobleness ; 
 
 A love that in its object findeth not 
 All grace and beauty, and enough to sate 
 Its thirst of blessing, but, in all of good 
 Found there, it sees but Heaven-granted types 
 Of good and beauty in the soul of men, 
 
 And traces, in the simplest heart that beats, 
 
 A family likeness to its chosen one, 
 
 That claims of it the rights of brotherhood. Lowell. 
 
 O bond of union strong and deep ! 
 
 O bond of perfect peace ! 
 
 Not e’en the lifted cross can harm, 
 
 If we but hold to this. 
 
 Then, Jesus, be Thy Spirit ours ! 
 
 And swift our feet shall move 
 To deeds of pure self-sacrifice, 
 
 And the sweet tasks of love. 
 
 Samuel Longfellow. 
 
 2368. LOVE. Unbought 
 
 Love is not to be bought— tis of the soul 
 The noblest element, the spirit bond 
 That links the angel with humanity. 
 
 As well might’st thou attempt to purchase heaven, 
 To vend the stars, make traffic of the skies, 
 
 Or measure out what is immeasurable. 
 
 As count each feeling in the pulse of love. 
 
 Charles Swain. 
 
 2367. Love. True 
 
 True Love is but a humble, low-born thing, 
 
 And hath its food served up in earthenware ; 
 
 It is a thing to walk with hand in hand, 
 
 Through the every-dayness of this work-day world, 
 Baring its tender feet to every roughness, 
 
 Yet letting not one heart-beat go astray 
 From Beauty’s law of plainness and content; 
 
 A simple, fireside thing, whose quiet smile 
 Can warm earth’s poorest hovel to a home . 
 
 Which, when our autumn cometh, as it must, 
 
 And life in the chill wind shivers bare and leafless, 
 Shall still be blest with Indian summer youth 
 In bleak November, and, with thankful heart, 
 
 Smile on its ample stores of garner’d fruit, 
 
 As full of sunshine to our aged eyes 
 As when it nursed the blossoms of our spring. 
 
 Such is true love, which steals into the heart 
 With feet as silent as the lightsome dawn 
 That kisses smooth the rough brows of the dark, 
 
 And hath its will through blissful gentleness— 
 
 Not like a rocket, which, with savage glare, 
 
 Whirrs suddenly up, then bursts, and leaves the night 
 Painfully quivering on the dazed eyes ; 
 
 A love that gives and takes, that seeth faults, 
 
 Not with flaw-seeking eyes like needle points, 
 
 But loving-kindly ever looks them down 
 With the o’ercoming faith of meek forgiveness ; 
 
 A love that shall be new and fresh each hour, 
 
 2369. LOVE. Well-founded 
 
 The mind is firm, 
 
 One and the same, proceedeth first from weighing, 
 And well examining what is fair and good : 
 
 Then what is like in reason, fit in manners ; 
 
 That breeds good will; and good will desire of union : 
 So knowledge first begets benevolence, 
 
 Benevolence breeds friendship ; friendship love ; 
 
 And where it starts, or steps aside from this, 
 
 It is a mere degenerate appetite, 
 
 A lost oblique, depraved affection ; 
 
 And bears no mark, or character oi\ova.—Jonson. 
 
 She that would raise a noble love must find 
 Ways to beget a passion for her mind; 
 
 She must be that which she to the world would seem, 
 For all true love is grounded on esteem : 
 
 Plainness and truth gain more a generous heart 
 Than all the crooked subtleties of art. 
 
 Duke of Buckingham. 
 
 These outward beauties are but the props and scaf¬ 
 folds 
 
 On which we build our love, which, now made per¬ 
 fect, 
 
 Stands without those supports .—Denham. 
 
 Ill-grounded passions quickly wear away ; 
 
 I What’s built upon esteem can ne’er decay. \\ alsh. 
 
LOWLINESS 
 
 460 
 
 MAN 
 
 2370. LOWLINESS : blessed of God. 
 
 The lowly spirit God hath consecrated 
 As His abiding rest, 
 
 And angels by some patriarch’s tent have waited 
 When kings had no such guests. 
 
 The dew, that never wets the flinty mountain, 
 Falls in the valley free ; 
 
 Bright verdure fringes the small desert fountain, 
 But barren sand the sea. 
 
 2371. LUXURY. 
 
 War destroys men, but luxury mankind ; 
 
 At once corrupts the body and the mind. 
 
 Crown. 
 
 O Luxury, 
 
 Bane of elated life, of affluent states, 
 
 What dreary change, what ruin is not thine ! 
 
 How doth thy bowl intoxicate the mind ! 
 
 To the soft entrance of thy rosy cave 
 How dost thou lure the fortunate and great! 
 Dreadful attraction ! while behind thee gapes 
 lh’ unfathomable gulf where Ashur lies 
 Overwhelm’d, forgotten ; and high-boasting Cham ; 
 And Elam’s haughty pomp ; and beauteous Greece ; 
 And the great queen of earth, imperial Rome. 
 
 Dyer. 
 
 ’Tis use alone that sanctifies expense, 
 
 And Splendour borrows all her rays from sense. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 O Luxury ! thou cursed by heaven’s decree, 
 
 How ill-exchanged are things like these for thee 
 How do thy potions, with insidious joy, 
 
 Diffuse their pleasures only to destroy. 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 2372. MAIDEN. A Virtuous 
 
 Sweet stream, that winds through yonder glade, 
 Apt emblem of a virtuous maid— 
 
 Silent and chaste she steals along, 
 
 Far from the world’s gay, busy throng ; 
 
 With gentle yet prevailing force, 
 
 Intent upon her destined course ; 
 
 Graceful and useful all she does, 
 
 Blessing and blest where’er she goes, 
 
 Pure-bosom’d as that watery glass, 
 
 And heaven reflected in her face.— Cowper. 
 
 2 373 - MAMMON. Corruption of 
 
 But scarce observed, the knowing and the bold 
 Fall in the general massacre of gold ; 
 
 Wide wasting pest! that rages unconfined, 
 
 And crowds with crime the records of mankind : 
 
 For gold his sword the hireling ruffian draws, 
 
 For gold the hireling judge distorts the laws ; 
 
 V ealth, heap’d on wealth, nor truth nor safety buys, 
 The dangers gather as the treasures rise. — Johnson. 
 
 2 374 - MAMMON. Enslavement of 
 
 Nor riches boast superior worth, 
 
 Their charms at best superior Earth : 
 
 These oft the heaven-bom mind enslave, 
 
 And make an honest man a knave. 
 
 ‘ Wealth cures my wants,’ the miser cries. 
 
 Be not deceived, the miser lies : 
 
 One want he has, with all his store, 
 
 That worst of wants, the want of more.— Cotton. 
 
 2375. MAN. Bliss of 
 
 The bliss of man (could pride that blessing find) 
 
 Is not to act or think beyond mankind ; 
 
 No powers of body or of soul to share, 
 
 But what his nature and his state can bear. — Pope . 
 
 2376. MAN : contrasts of his nature. 
 
 Chaos of thought and passion, all confused ; 
 
 Still by himself abused or disabused ; 
 
 Created half to rise, and half to fall; 
 
 Great lord of all things, yet a prey to all; 
 
 Sole judge of truth, in endless error hurl’d ; 
 
 The glory, jest, and riddle of the world.— Pope. 
 
 How poor, how rich, how abject, how august, 
 
 How complicate, how wonderful, is man ! 
 
 How passing wonder He who made him such! 
 v\ ho centred in our make such strange extremes, 
 
 From different natures marvellously mix’d, 
 
 Connection exquisite of .distant worlds! 
 
 Distinguish’d link in being’s endless chain ! 
 
 Midway from nothing to the Deity ! 
 
 A beam ethereal, sullied, and absorpt! 
 
 Though sullied and dishonour’d, still divine ! 
 
 Dim miniature of greatness absolute ! 
 
 An heir of glory ! a frail child of dust! 
 
 Helpless immortal! insect infinite! 
 
 A worm ! a God !—I tremble at myself, 
 
 And in myself am lost. At home, a stranger, 
 
 Thought wanders up and down, surprised, aghast, 
 
 And wondering at her own. How reason reels ! 
 
 Oh, what a miracle to man is man! 
 
 Triumphantly distress’d ! What joy ! what dread ! 
 Alternately transported and alarm’d ! 
 
 What can preserve my life ? or what destroy ? 
 
 An angel’s arm can’t snatch me from the grave ; 
 Legions of angels can’t confine me there.— Young. 
 
MAN 
 
 461 
 
 MAN 
 
 2377. MAN : dilatory. 
 
 All promise is poor dilatory man, 
 
 And that through every stage : when young indeed, 
 
 ! In full content, we, sometimes, nobly rest 
 Unanxious for ourselves ; and only wish, 
 
 3 As duteous sons, our fathers were more wise. 
 
 At thirty man suspects himself a fool, 
 
 Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan ; 
 
 At fifty chides his infamous delay, 
 
 Pushes his prudent purpose to resolve ; 
 
 1 In all the magnanimity of thought 
 
 Resolves ; and re-resolves ; then dies the same. 
 
 Young. 
 
 2378. MAN. Distinction of 
 
 Thus while the mute creation downward bend 
 Their sight, and to their earthly mother tend, 
 
 Man looks aloft, and with erected eyes 
 Beholds his own hereditary skies. —Dryden. 
 
 I * 
 
 2379. MAN : easily pleased. 
 
 Behold the child by nature’s kindly law 
 Pleased with a rattle, tickled with a straw ; 
 
 Some livelier plaything gives his youth delight, 
 
 A little louder, but as empty quite; 
 
 Scarfs, garters, gold, amuse his riper stage ; 
 
 And beads and prayer-books are the toys of age ; 
 Pleased with this bauble still, as that before ; 
 
 Till tired he sleeps, and life’s poor play is o’er. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 k 
 
 2380. MAN. Endowments of 
 
 But man He made of angel form erect, 
 
 To hold communion with the heavens above, 
 
 And on his soul impress’d His image fair, 
 
 His own similitude of holiness, 
 
 Of virtue, truth, and love ; with reason high 
 To balance right and wrong, and conscience quick 
 To choose or to reject; with knowledge great, 
 Prudence and wisdom, vigilance and strength, 
 
 To guard all force or guile ; and last of all, 
 
 The highest gift of God’s abundant grace, 
 
 With perfect, free, unbias’d will. Thus man 
 I Was made upright, immortal made, and crown’d 
 The king of all.— Pollok. 
 
 2381. MAN. Exaltation of 
 
 My God, I heard this day 
 That none doth build a stately habitation 
 But he that means to dwell therein. 
 
 What house more stately hath there been, 
 
 Or can be, than Man ? to whose creation 
 All things are in decay. 
 
 Man is all symmetry, 
 
 Full of proportion, one limb to another, 
 
 And all to all the world besides : 
 
 Each part may call the farthest brother : 
 
 For head with foot hath private amity, 
 
 And both with moons and tides. 
 
 For us the winds do blow : 
 
 The earth doth rest, heaven move, and fountains 
 flow. 
 
 Nothing we see but means our good, 
 
 As our delight, or as our treasure : 
 
 The whole is either our cupboard of food, 
 
 Or cabinet of pleasure. 
 
 The stars have us to bed ; 
 
 Night draws the curtain, which the sun withdraws : 
 Music and light attend our head. 
 
 All things unto our flesh are kind 
 In their descent and being ; to our mind 
 In their ascent and cause. 
 
 More servants wait on Man 
 Than he’ll take notice of: in every path 
 
 He treads down that which doth befriend him, 
 When sickness makes him pale and wan. 
 
 Oh mighty love ! Man is one world, and hath 
 Another to attend him. 
 
 Since then, my God, Thou hast 
 So brave a palace built; oh dwell in it, 
 
 That it may dwell with Thee at last! 
 
 Till then, afford us so much wit, 
 
 That, as the world serves us, we may serve Thee, 
 And both Thy servants be.— Herbert. 
 
 2382. MAN. Folly of 
 
 Man, foolish man ! 
 
 Scarce know’st thou how thyself began ; 
 
 Scarce hadst thou thought enough to prove thou art 
 Yet, steel’d with studied boldness, thou darest try 
 To send thy doubting Reason’s dazzled eye 
 Through the mysterious gulf of vast immensity. 
 
 Prior* 
 
 Brutes find out where their talents lie ; 
 
 A bear will not attempt to fly ; 
 
 A founder’d horse will oft debate, 
 
 Before he tries a five-barr’d gate ; 
 
 A dog by instinct turns aside 
 
 Who sees the ditch too deep and wide ; 
 
 But man we find the only creature 
 Who, led by folly, combats Nature ; 
 
 Who, when she loudly cries— Forbear, 
 
 With obstinacy fixes there ; 
 
 And, where his genius least inclines, 
 Absurdly bends his whole designs.— Swift. 
 
MAN 
 
 462 
 
 MAN 
 
 2383. MAN. Frailty of 
 
 Man’s at the best a creature frail and vain, 
 
 In knowledge ignorant, in strength but weak ; 
 Subject to sorrows, losses, sickness, pain ; 
 
 Each storm his state, his mind, his body break : 
 From some of these he never finds cessation ; 
 
 But day or night, within, without, vexation, 
 Troubles from foes, from friends, from dearest, 
 near’st relation. 
 
 And yet this sinful creature, frail and vain, 
 
 This lump of wretchedness, of sin and sorrow, 
 This weather-beaten vessel wreckt with pain, 
 
 Joys not in hope of an eternal morrow ; 
 
 Nor all his losses, crosses, and vexation, 
 
 In weight, in frequency, and long duration, 
 
 Can make him deeply groan for that divine transla¬ 
 tion. —Anne Bradstreet. 
 
 2384. MAN. Frailty of 
 
 The world’s a bubble, and the life of Man 
 Less than a span ; 
 
 In his conception wretched ; from the womb 
 So to the tomb ; 
 
 Cursed from his cradle, and brought up to years 
 With cares and fears : 
 
 Who, then, to frail mortality shall trust, 
 
 But limns on water, or but writes in dust. 
 
 \ et, whilst with sorrow here we live opprest, 
 
 What life is best ? 
 
 Courts are but only superficial schools 
 To dandle fools; 
 
 The rural parts are turn’d into a den 
 Of savage men ; 
 
 And where’s a city from foul vice so free 
 But may be term’d the worst of all the three ? 
 
 Domestic cares afflict the husband’s bed, 
 
 Or pains his head ; 
 
 T. hose that live single take it for a curse, 
 
 Or do things worse ; 
 
 Some would have children ; those that have them 
 moan. 
 
 Or wish them gone ; 
 
 What is it, then, to have, or have no wife, 
 
 But single thraldom, or a double strife ? 
 
 Our own affections still at home to please 
 Is a disease : 
 
 Bo cross the seas to any foreign soil, 
 
 Peril and toil : 
 
 \\ ars with their noise affright us ; when they cease, 
 We are w r orse in peace :— 
 
 What, then, remains but that we still should cry 
 For being born, or, being born, to die? 
 
 Ascribed to Lord Bacon. (See Speddings Works 
 of Bacon, vii. 267.) 
 
 2385. MAN. Greatness of ^ 
 
 Think deeply, then, O man, how great thou art ; 
 
 Pay thyself homage with a trembling heart ; 
 
 What angels guard, no longer dare neglect; 
 
 Slighting thyself, affront not God’s respect. 
 
 Enter the sacred temple of thy breast, , 
 
 And gaze and wander there, a ravish’d guest; 
 
 Gaze on those hidden treasures thou shalt find, 
 
 Wander through all the glories of thy mind. 
 
 Of perfect knowledge, see, the dawning light 
 Foretells a noon most exquisitely bright! 
 
 Here, springs of endless joy are breaking forth ! 
 
 There, buds the promise of celestial worth ! 
 
 Worth, which must ripen in a happier clime, 
 
 And brighter sun, beyond the bounds of time. 
 
 Thou, minor, canst not guess thy vast estate, 
 
 What stores, on foreign coasts, thy landing wait. 
 
 Young. 
 
 2386. MAN : his distinguishing excellence. 
 
 It is not from his form, in which we trace 
 Strength join’d with beauty, dignity with grace, 
 
 I hat man, the master of this globe, derives « 
 
 His right of empire over all that lives, 
 d hat form, indeed, the associate of a mind 
 Vast in its powers, ethereal in its kind, 
 
 That form, the labour of Almighty skill, 
 
 Framed for the service of a freeborn will, 
 
 Asserts precedence, and bespeaks control, 
 
 But borrows all its grandeur from the soul. * 
 
 Here is the state, the splendour and the throne, 
 
 An intellectual kingdom, all her own.— Cowper. * 
 
 2387. MAN : his place in creation. 
 
 But do these worlds display their beams, or guide 
 Their orbs, to serve thy use, to please thy pride ? 
 
 Thyself but dust, thy stature but a span, 
 
 A moment thy duration, foolish man ! 
 
 As well may the minutest emmet say, "l 
 
 That Caucasus was raised to pave his way; 
 
 The snail, that Lebanon’s extended wood 
 Was destined only for his walk and food ; 
 
 The vilest cockle, gaping on the coast 
 That rounds the ample seas, as well may boast 
 The craggy rock projects above the sky, 
 
 That he in safety at its foot may lie ; 4 
 
 And the whole ocean’s confluent waters swell, 
 
 Only to quench his thirst, and blanch his shell. 
 
 Prior. 
 
MAN 
 
 463 
 
 MAN 
 
 Nor think though men were none 
 
 That heaven would want spectators, God want praise. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 So man, who here seems principal alone, 
 
 Perhaps acts second to some sphere unknown ; 
 Touches some wheel, or verges to some goal : 
 
 >Tis but a part we see, and not the whole.— Pope. 
 
 2388. MAN : his possibilities. 
 
 Man was mark’d 
 A friend in his creation to himself, 
 
 And may with fit ambition conceive 
 The greatest blessings, and the brightest honours 
 Appointed for him, if he can achieve them 
 The right and noble way.— Massinger. 
 
 Man is supreme lord and master 
 Of his own ruin and disaster ; 
 
 Controls his fate, but nothing less 
 In ordering his own happiness : 
 
 For all his care and providence 
 Is too, too feeble a defence 
 To render it secure and certain 
 Against the injuries of fortune ; 
 
 And oft, in spite of all his wit, 
 
 Is lost with one unlucky hit, 
 
 And ruin’d with a circumstance, 
 
 And mere punctilio of chance. Massinger. 
 
 2389. MAN. History of 
 
 Maturer manhood now arrives 
 And other thoughts come on, 
 
 But with the baseless hopes of youth, 
 
 Its generous warmth is gone ; 
 
 Cold, calculating cares succeed 
 The timid thought, the wary deed, 
 
 The full realities of truth ; 
 
 Back on the past he turns his eye, 
 Remembering, with an envious sigh, 
 
 The happy dreams of youth. 
 
 So reaches he the latter stage 
 Of this our mortal pilgrimage, 
 
 With feeble step and slow ; 
 
 New ills that latter stage await, 
 
 And old experience learns too late, 
 
 That all is vanity below.— Southey. 
 
 2390. MAN: immortal. 
 
 Whate’er of earth is form’d, to earth returns 
 Dissolved : the various objects we behold— 
 
 Plants, animals, this whole material mass— 
 
 Are ever changing, ever new. The soul 
 Of man alone, that particle divine, 
 
 Escapes the wreck of worlds, when all things fail . 
 
 Hence the great distance ’twixt the beasts that 
 perish 
 
 And God’s bright image, man’s immortal race. 
 
 Somerville. 
 
 2391. MAN: inconstant. 
 
 Men are but children of a larger growth: 
 
 Our appetites are apt to change as theirs, 
 
 And full as craving too, and full as vain. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 Man is but man, inconstant still, and various! 
 There’s no to-morrow in him like to-day! 
 
 Perhaps the atoms rolling in his brain 
 Make him think honestly the present hour ; 
 
 The next, a swarm of base ungrateful thoughts 
 May mount aloft.— Dryden. 
 
 Mankind one day serene and free appear; 
 
 I The next, they’re cloudy, sullen, and severe ; 
 
 New passions new opinions still excite, 
 
 And what they like at noon, they leave at night. 
 They gain with labour what they quit with ease ; 
 And health, for want of change, becomes disease ; 
 Religion’s bright authority they dare, 
 
 And yet are slaves to superstitious fear. 
 
 They counsel others, but themselves deceive, 
 
 And though they’re cozen’d still, they still believe. 
 So false their censure, fickle their esteem, 
 
 This hour they worship, and the next blaspheme. 
 
 Garth. 
 
 What is the mind of man? A restless scene 
 Of vanity and weakness ; shifting still, 
 
 As shift the lights of our uncertain knowledge ; 
 Or as the various gale of passion breathes. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 Trust not a man : we are by nature false, 
 Dissembling, subtle, cruel, and inconstant; 
 
 When a man talks of love, with caution hear him ; 
 But if he swears, he’ll certainly deceive thee. 
 
 Otway. 
 
 Men are not still the same; our appetites 
 Are various, and inconstant as the moon, 
 
 That never shines with the same face again : 
 ’Tis nature’s curse never to be resolved, 
 
 Busy to day in the pursuit of what 
 To morrow’s eldest judgment may despise. 
 
 Southern. 
 
 Weak and irresolute is man : 
 
 The purpose of to-day, 
 
 Woven with pains into his plan, 
 
 To morrow rends away. 
 
 The bow well bent and smart the spring, 
 Vice seems already slain ; 
 
 But passion rudely snaps the string, 
 
 And it revives again. — Cowper. 
 
MAN 
 
 464 
 
 MAN 
 
 2392. MAN : mortal. 
 
 Like leaves on trees the race of man is found, 
 
 Now green in youth, now withering on the ground: 
 Another race the following spring supplies; 
 
 They fall successive, and successive rise.— Pope. 
 
 Vain men, how vanishing a bliss we crave : 
 
 Now warm in love, now withering in the grave. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 2393. MAN. Probation of 
 
 Made of the dust, 
 
 And thus allied to all material worlds, 
 
 Born of the Spirit, and thus allied to God, 
 
 He during his probation’s term shall walk 
 His mother earth, unfledged to range the sky, 
 
 But, if found faithful, shall at length ascend 
 
 The highest heavens and share My home and yours. 
 
 Bickersteth. 
 
 2394. MAN : purpose of his being. 
 
 Say, why was man so eminently raised 
 Amid the vast creation ; why ordain’d 
 Through life and death to dart his piercing eye, 
 With thoughts beyond the limits of his frame; 
 
 But that the Omnipotent might send him forth 
 In sight of mortal and immortal powers, 
 
 As on a boundless theatre, to run 
 The great career of justice; to exalt 
 His generous aim to all diviner deeds ; 
 
 To chase each partial purpose from his breast; 
 
 And through the mists of passion and of sense, 
 
 And through the tossing tide of chance and pain, 
 
 To hold his course unfaltering ; while the voice 
 Of truth and virtue, up the steep ascent 
 Of nature, calls him to his high reward— 
 
 The applauding smile of Heaven ?— Akenside. 
 
 2395. MAN. Reverence for 
 
 Learn more reverence, not for rank or wealth ; that 
 needs no learning; 
 
 That comes quickly, quick as sin does! Ay, and 
 often leads to sin ; 
 
 But for Adam’s seed, Man ! Trust me, ’tis a clay 
 above your scorning, 
 
 With God’s image stamp’d upon it, and God’s kin¬ 
 dling breath within.— E. B. Browning. 
 
 2396. MAN. Standard of 
 
 Is there for honest poverty 
 Wha hangs his head, and a’ that ? 
 
 The coward slave, we pass him by ; 
 
 We dare be poor for a’ that. 
 
 For a’ that and a’ that, 
 
 Our toils obscure, and a’ that; 
 
 The rank is but the guinea’s stamp— 
 
 The man’s the gowd for a’ that. 
 
 What though on hamely fare we dine, 
 
 Wear hoddin grey, and a’ that ? 
 
 Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine— 
 A man’s a man for a’ that. 
 
 For a’ that, and a’ that, 
 
 Their tinsel show, and a’ that; 
 
 The honest man, though e’er sae poor, 
 
 Is king o’ men for a’ that. 
 
 Ye see yon birkie ca’d a lord, 
 
 Wha struts, and stares, and a’ that— 
 
 Though hundreds worship at his word, 
 
 He’s but a coof for a’ that : 
 
 For a’ that, and a’ that. 
 
 His riband, star, and a’ that; 
 
 The man of independent mind, 
 
 He looks and laughs at a’ that. 
 
 A prince can mak a belted knight, 
 
 A marquis, duke, and a’ that; 
 
 But an honest man’s aboon his might— 
 
 Guid faith, he maunna fa’ that! 
 
 For a’ that, and a’ that, 
 
 Their dignities, and a’ that; 
 
 The pith o’ sense, and pride o’ worth, 
 
 Are higher ranks than a’ that. 
 
 Then let us pray that come it may— 
 
 As come it will for a’ that— 
 
 That sense and worth, o’er a’ the earth, 
 
 May bear the gree, and a’ that. 
 
 For a’ that, and a’ that, 
 
 It’s coming yet, for a’ that— 
 
 When man to man, the warld o’er, 
 
 Shall brothers be for a’ that!— Burns. 
 
 2397. MAN. The wise 
 
 The wise man, said the Bible, walks with God, 
 Surveys, far on, the endless line of life ; 
 
 Values his soul; thinks of eternity; 
 
 Both worlds considers, and provides for both ; 
 With reason’s eye his passions guards ; abstains 
 From evil; lives on hope, on hope, the fruit 
 Of faith ; looks upward ; purifies his soul; 
 Expands his wings, and mounts into the sky; 
 Passes the sun, and gains his Father’s house ; 
 
 And drinks with angels from the fount of bliss. 
 
 Pollok. 
 
 2398. MAN : unjust. 
 
 Ah ! how unjust to nature, and himself, 
 
 Is thoughtless, thankless, inconsistent man ! 
 
 Young. 
 
MAN 
 
 465 
 
 MANKIND 
 
 2399. MAN. Weakness of 
 
 Man, who madly deems himself the lord 
 Of all, is nought but weakness and dependence. 
 This sacred truth, by sour experience taught, 
 
 Thou must have learnt, when, wandering all alone, 
 Each bird, each insect, flitting through the sky, 
 Was more sufficient for itself than thou. Thomson. 
 
 Man’s feeble race what ills await ! 
 
 Labour and penury, the racks of pain, 
 
 Disease and sorrow’s sweeping tiain, 
 
 And death, sad refuge from the storms of fate. 
 
 Gray. 
 
 2400. MAN : wonders of his being. 
 
 Oh, what is man, great Maker of mankind! 
 
 That Thou to him so great respect dost bear ; 
 That Thou adorn’st him with so bright a mind, 
 Mak’st him a king, and even an angel’s peer? 
 
 Oh, what a lively life, what heavenly power, 
 
 What spreading virtue, what a sparkling fire, 
 How great, how plentiful, how rich a dow ei 
 Dost Thou within the dying flesh inspire ! 
 
 Thou leaVst Thy print in other works of Thine, 
 
 But Thy whole image Thou in man hast writ; 
 There cannot be a creature more divine, 
 
 Except, like Thee, it should be infinite. 
 
 But it exceeds man’s thoughts, to think how high 
 God hath raised man, since God a man became ; 
 The angels do admire this mystery, 
 
 And are astonish’d when they view the same : 
 
 Nor hath He given these blessings for a day, 
 
 Nor made them on the body’s life depend ; 
 
 The soul, though made in time, survives for aye ; 
 And though it hath beginning, sees no end. 
 
 Davies. 
 
 2401. MANHOOD : its possibilities. 
 
 Though the transient springs have fail d thee, 
 Though the founts of youth are dried, 
 
 Wilt thou among the mouldering stones 
 In weariness abide ? 
 
 Wilt thou sit among the ruins, 
 
 With all words of cheer unspoken, 
 
 Till the silver cord is loosen’d, 
 
 Till the golden bowl is broken? 
 
 Up and onward ! Toward the east, 
 
 Green oases thou shalt find,— 
 
 Streams that rise from higher souices 
 Than the pools thou leavest behind. 
 
 Life has import more inspiring 
 Than the fancies of thy youth : 
 
 It has hopes as high as heaven ; 
 
 It has labour, it has truth ; 
 
 It has wrongs that may be righted, 
 
 Noble deeds that may be done, 
 
 Its great battles are unfought, 
 
 Its great triumphs are unwon .—Anne C. Lynch. 
 
 2402. MANIAC. Misfortune of the 
 
 A MAN, to-day the glory of his kind, 
 
 In reason clear, in understanding large, 
 
 In judgment sound, in fancy quick, in hope 
 I Abundant, and in promise, like a field 
 ! Well cultured, and refresh’d with dews from God; 
 To-morrow, chain’d, and raving mad, and whipp’d 
 By servile hands ; sitting on dismal straw, 
 
 And gnashing with his teeth against the chain, 
 
 The iron chain that bound him hand and foot; 
 
 And trying whiles to send his glaring eye 
 Beyond the wide circumference of his woe : 
 
 Or, humbling more, more miserable still, 
 
 Giving an idiot laugh, that served to show 
 The blasted scenery of his horrid face ; 
 
 Calling the straw his sceptre, and the stone, 
 
 On which he pinion’d sat, his royal thione. 
 
 Poor, poor, poor man ! fallen far below the brute ! 
 His reason strove in vain to find her way, 
 
 Lost in the stormy desert of his brain ; 
 
 And being active still, she wrought all strange, 
 Fantastic, execrable, monstrous things. Pollok 
 
 2403. MANKIND. Foes of 
 
 War, famine, pest, volcano, storm, and fire, 
 Intestine broils, Oppression with her heart 
 Wrapp’d up in triple brass, besiege mankind. 
 
 God’s image, disinherited of day, 
 
 Here, plunged in mines, forgets a sun was made. 
 There, beings deathless as their haughty lord, 
 
 Are hammer’d to the galling oar for life, 
 
 And plough the winter’s wave, and reap despair. 
 Some, for hard masters, broken under arms, 
 
 In battle lopp’d away, with half their limbs, 
 
 Beg bitter bread through realms their valour saved. 
 If so the tyrant or his minion doom, 
 
 Want and incurable disease (fell pair!) 
 
 On hopeless multitudes remorseless seize 
 At once ; and make a refuge of the grave. 
 
 How groaning hospitals eject their dead ! 
 
 What numbers groan for sad admission there ! 
 What numbers, once in Fortune’s lap high-fed, 
 Solicit the cold hand of charity ! 
 
 To shock us more, solicit it in vain ! 
 
 Not prudence can defend, or virtue save . 
 
 Disease invades the chastest temperance ; 
 
 30 
 
mankind 
 
 466 
 
 MARRIAGE 
 
 And punishment the guiltless : and alarm 
 
 Through thickest shades, pursues the fond of peace. 
 
 Man’s caution often into danger turns, 
 
 And his guard failing, crushes him to death. 
 
 Not Happiness itself makes good her name ; 
 
 Our very wishes give us not our wish. 
 
 How distant oft the thing we dote on most 
 
 From that for which we dote, felicity ! 
 
 The smoothest course of nature has its pains , 
 
 And truest friends, through error, wound our rest. 
 
 Without misfortune, what calamities ! 
 
 And what hostilities, without a foe ! 
 
 Nor are foes wanting to the best on earth. 
 
 But endless is the list of human ills, 
 
 And sighs might sooner fail than cause to sig • 
 
 0 Young. 
 
 2404. MANKIND. Unity of 
 
 Festus. Amid a11 life ’ s qU6StS , 
 
 There seems but worthy one—to do men good. 
 
 It matters not how long we live, but how. 
 
 For as the parts of one manhood while here 
 We live in every age : we think, and feel, 
 
 And feed upon the coming and the gone 
 
 As much as on the now time. Man is one : 
 
 And he hath one great heart. ’Tis thus we fee , 
 With a gigantic throb athwart the sea, 
 
 Each others’ rights and wrongs ; thus are wemen. 
 
 2405* MANNERS. 
 
 ’Tis not enough your counsel still be true, 
 
 Blunt truths more mischief than nice falsehoods do. 
 Men must be taught as if you taught them not 
 And things unknown proposed as things orgo . 
 Without good breeding truth is disapprove*: ; 
 
 That only makes superior sense beloved, rope. 
 
 A decent boldness ever meets with friends, 
 
 Succeeds, and even a stranger recommends. 
 
 rope. 
 
 She speaks, behaves, and acts just as she ought; 
 But never, never reach’d one gen’rous thought . 
 Virtue she finds too painful an endeavour ; 
 
 Content to dwell in decencies for ever .—Pope. 
 
 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 -res. ^ 
 
 Study with care politeness, that must teach 
 The modish forms of gesture and of speech : 
 In vain formality, with matron mien, . 
 
 And pertness apes with her familiar grin ; 
 
 They against nature for applauses strain, 
 
 Distort themselves, and give all others pam. 
 
 Stilling fleet. 
 
 In simple manners all the secret lies : 
 
 Be kind and virtuous, you’ll be blest and wise. 
 
 Young. 
 
 A moral, sensible, and well-bred man 
 
 Will not affront me, and no other can. 
 
 •* Cozvper. 
 
 2406. MARRIAGE. Age for 
 
 Crabbed age and youth 
 Cannot live together: 
 
 Youth is full of pleasance, 
 
 Age is full of care ; 
 
 Youth like summer morn, 
 
 Age like winter weather ; 
 
 Youth like summer brave, 
 
 Age like winter bare. 
 
 Youth is full of sport, 
 
 Age’s breath is short; 
 
 Youth is nimble, age is lame ; 
 
 Youth is hot and bold, 
 
 Age is weak and cold ; 
 
 Youth is wild, and age is tame. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 2407. MARRIAGE. Cares of 
 
 < I should be happy,’ with a look 
 Towards her husband where he lay, 
 
 Lost in the pages of his book, 
 
 Soft did she say. 
 
 ‘ I am, and yet no lot below . 
 
 For one whole day eludeth care ; 
 
 To marriage all the stories flow 
 And finish there: 
 
 ‘ As if with marriage came the end, 
 
 The entrance into settled rest, 
 
 The calm ‘to which love’s tossings tend, 
 The quiet breast. 
 
 . For me love play’d the low preludes, 
 
 Yet life began but with the img> 
 
 Such infinite solicitudes 
 
 Around it cling l-Jean Ingelozv. 
 
 2408. MARRIAGE. Estrangement in 
 
 Something light as air—a look, 
 
 A word unkind or wrongly taken— 
 
 Oh ! love, that tempests never shook, 
 
 A breath, a touch like this hath shaken. 
 And ruder words will soon rush in 
 To spread the breach that words begin; 
 
MARRIAGE 
 
 467 
 
 MARRIAGE 
 
 And eyes forget the gentle ray 
 They wore in courtship’s smiling day ; 
 
 And voices lose the tone that shed 
 A tenderness round all they said : 
 
 Till fast declining, one by one, 
 
 The sweetnesses of love are gone, 
 
 And hearts, so lately mingled, seem 
 Like broken clouds—or like the stream, 
 
 That smiling left the mountain’s brow, 
 
 As though its waters ne’er could sever, 
 
 Yet, ere it reach the plain below, 
 
 Breaks into floods that part for ever.— Moore. 
 
 2409. MARRIAGE: founded on esteem. 
 
 Wedded love is founded on esteem, 
 Which the fair merits of the mind engage : 
 
 For those are charms which never can decay, 
 
 But time, which gives new whiteness to the swan, 
 Improves their lustre.— Fenton. 
 
 2410. MARRIAGE. Importance of 
 
 What do you think of marriage.? 
 
 I take’t, as those that deny purgatory: 
 
 It locally contains or heaven or hell; 
 
 There’s no third place in it. — Webster. 
 
 As a girl, with ready smile, 
 
 Where shall rise some ponderous pile, 
 
 On the chosen festal day. 
 
 Turns the initial sod away, 
 
 So the bride with fingers frail 
 Founds a temple or a jail— 
 
 Or a palace it may be, 
 
 Flooded full with luxury, 
 
 Open yet to deadliest things, 
 
 And the Midnight Angel’s wings. 
 
 Keep its chambers purged with prayer : 
 
 Faith can guard it; love is rare. 
 
 Julia Ward Howe. 
 
 2411. MARRIAGE. Joys of 
 
 Oh friendly to the best pursuits of man, 
 
 Friendly to thought, to virtue, and to peace, 
 Domestic life in rural leisure pass’d ! 
 
 Few know thy value, and few taste thy sweets, 
 Though many boast thy favours, and affect 
 To understand and choose thee for their own. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 Domestic happiness, thou only bliss 
 Of paradise that has survived the fall ! 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 2412. MARRIAGE. Losses in 
 
 Even in the happiest choice, where fav’ring Heaven 
 Has equal love and easy fortune given, 
 
 Think not, the husband gain’d, that all is done ; 
 
 The prize of happiness must still be won : 
 
 And oft the careless find it to their cost, 
 
 The lover in the husband may be lost: 
 
 The graces might alone his heart allure ; 
 
 They and the virtues meeting must secure. 
 
 Lord Lyttlcton. 
 
 2413. MARRIAGE. Mistakes in 
 
 For any man to match above his rank 
 Is but to sell his liberty.— Massinger. 
 
 Maidens, like moths, are ever caught by glare, 
 
 And Mammon wins his way where seraphs might 
 despair.— Byron. 
 
 2414. MARRIAGE. Need of forbearance in 
 
 Oh, we do all offend ! 
 
 There’s not a day of wedded life, if we 
 Count at its close the little, bitter sum 
 Of thoughts and words and looks unkind and fro- 
 ward, 
 
 Silence that chides, and woundings of the eye, 
 
 But prostrate at each other’s feet we should 
 Each night forgiveness ask.— Maturin. 
 
 2415. MARRIAGE. Purity of 
 
 Whatever hypocrites austerely talk 
 Of purity, and place, and innocence, 
 
 Defaming as impure what God declares 
 Pure, and commands to some, leaves free to all, 
 Our Maker bids increase ; who bids abstain 
 But our destroyer, foe to God and man ? 
 
 Hail wedded love, mysterious law, true source 
 Of human offspring, sole propriety 
 In Paradise of all things common else. 
 
 By thee adult’rous love was driven from men 
 Among the bestial herds to range ; by thee, 
 Founded in reason, loyal, just, and pure, 
 
 Relations dear, and all the charities 
 Of father, son, and brother first were known. 
 
 Far be it that I should write thee sin or blame, 
 
 Or think thee unbefitting holiest place, 
 
 Perpetual fountain of domestic sweets, 
 
 Whose bed is undefiled and chaste pronounced, 
 Present, or past, as saints and patriarchs used. 
 Here Love his golden shafts employs, here lights 
 His constant lamp, and waves his purple wings, 
 Reigns here and revels.— Milton. 
 
 2416. MARRIAGE. Tie of 
 
 Thy rise of fortune did I only wed, 
 
 From its decline determined to recede ? 
 
MARTHA OR MARY 
 
 468 
 
 MARTYRDOM 
 
 Did I but purpose to embark with thee 
 On the smooth surface of a summer’s sea, 
 
 While gentle zephyrs play in prosperous gales, 
 
 And fortune’s favour fills the swelling sails ; 
 
 But would forsake the ship, and make the shore, 
 When the winds whistle, and the tempests roar ? 
 No, Henry, no: one sacred oath has tied 
 Our loves ; one destiny our life shall guide, 
 
 Nor wild, nor deep, our common way divide ! 
 
 Frior. 
 
 Not for the summer-hour alone, 
 
 When skies resplendent shine, 
 
 And youth and pleasure fill the throne, 
 
 Our hearts and hands we twine ; 
 
 But for those stern and wintry days 
 Of peril, pain, and fear, 
 
 When Heaven’s wise discipline doth make 
 This earthly journey drear. 
 
 Not for this span of life alone, * 
 
 Which as a blast doth fly, 
 
 And like the transient flower of grass, 
 
 Just blossom, droop, and die; 
 
 But for a being without end, 
 
 This vow 7 of love we take ; 
 
 Grant us, O God ! one home at last, 
 
 For our Redeemer’s sake.— Mrs Sigourney. 
 
 Then come the wild weather—come sleet or come 
 snow, 
 
 We will stand by each other,' however it blow ; 
 Oppression and sickness, and sorrow and pain, 
 
 Shall be to our true love as links to the chain. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 2417. MARTHA OR MARY? 
 
 I CANNOT choose ; I should have liked so much 
 To sit at Jesus’ feet,—to feel the touch 
 Of His kind, gentle hand upon my head 
 While drinking in the gracious words He said. 
 
 And yet to serve Him ! oh, divine employ, 
 
 To minister and give the Master joy, 
 
 To bathe in coolest springs His w 7 eary feet, 
 
 And wait upon Him while He sat at meat ! 
 
 Worship or service,—which? Ah, that is best 
 To which He calls me, be it toil or rest, 
 
 To labour for Him in life’s busy stir, 
 
 Or seek His feet a silent worshipper. 
 
 So let Him choose for us: we are not strong 
 To make the choice ; perhaps we should go wrong, 
 Mistaking zeal for service, sinful sloth 
 For loving worship,—and so fail of both. 
 
 Caroline A. Mason. 
 
 2418. MARTYR. Death of a 
 
 Silence ! though the flames arise and quiver: 
 Silence ! though the crowd howls on for ever, 
 
 Silence ! Through this fiery purgatory 
 God is leading up a soul to glory 7 . 
 
 See, the white lips with no moans are trembling, 
 
 Hate of foes or plaint of friends’ dissembling ; 
 
 If sighs come—his patient prayers outlive them, 
 ‘Lord, these know not what they do. Forgive 
 them ! ’ 
 
 Thirstier still the roaring flames are glowing ; 
 
 Fainter in his ear the laughter growing; 
 
 Brief will last the fierce and fiery trial; 
 
 Angel welcomes drown the earth denial. 
 
 Now the amorous death-fires, gleaming ruddy, 
 
 Clasp him close. Down drops the quivering body, 
 While through harmless flames ecstatic flying 
 Shoots the beauteous soul. This, this is dying. 
 
 Lo, the opening sky with splendour rifted ; 
 
 Lo, the palm-branch for his hands uplifted ; 
 
 Lo, the immortal chariot, cloud-descending, 
 
 And its legion’d angels close attending. 
 
 Let his poor dust mingle with the embers, 
 
 While the crowds sweep on and none remembers : 
 Saints unnumber’d through the Infinite Glory, 
 Praising God, recount the martyr’s story. 
 
 D. M. Muloch Craik. 
 
 2419. MARTYRDOM. Nobility of 
 
 Patriots have toil’d, and in their country’s cause 
 Bled nobly, and their deeds, as they deserve, 
 
 Receive proud recompense. We give in charge 
 Their names to the sweet lyre. The historic muse, 
 Proud of the treasure, marches with it down 
 To latest times ; and Sculpture, in her turn, 
 
 Gives bond in stone and ever-during brass 
 To guard them, and to immortalize her trust: 
 
 But fairer wreaths are due, though never paid, 
 
 To those who, posted at the shrine of Truth, 
 
 Have fallen in her defence. A patriot’s blood, 
 
 Well spent in such a strife, may earn indeed, 
 
 And for a time insure, to his loved land 
 The sweets of liberty and equal laws ; 
 
 But martyrs struggle for a brighter prize, 
 
 And win it with more pain. Their blood is shed 
 
 In confirmation of the noblest claim 
 
 Our claim to feed upon the immortal truth, 
 
 To walk with God, to be divinely free, 
 
 To soar, and to anticipate the skies. 
 
 Yet few remember them. They lived unknown 
 Till persecution dragg’d them into fame, 
 
 And chased them up to heaven. Their ashes flew— 
 No marble tells us whither. With their names 
 No bard embalms and sanctifies his song, 
 
 And history, so warm on meaner themes, 
 
 Is cold on this.— Cowper. 
 
MARTYRS 
 
 469 
 
 MARTYRS 
 
 2420. MARTYRS. Ashes of the 
 
 Flung to the heedless winds, 
 
 Or on the waters cast, 
 
 The martyrs’ ashes, watch’d, 
 
 Shall gather’d be at last; 
 
 And from that scatter’d dust, 
 
 Around us and abroad, 
 
 Shall spring a plenteous seed 
 Of witnesses for God. 
 
 The Father hath received 
 Their latest living breath ; 
 
 And vain is Satan’s boast 
 Of victory in their death ; 
 
 Still, still, though dead, they speak, 
 
 And, trumpet-tongued, proclaim 
 To many a wakening land 
 The one availing Name. 
 
 Martin Luther , tr. by IV. J. Fox. 
 
 2421. MARTYRS. Christian 
 
 The lion’s feet, the lion’s lips, are dyed with crim¬ 
 son gore, 
 
 A look of faith, an unbreathed prayer, the martyr’s 
 pangs are o’er. 
 
 Proud princes and grave senators gazed on that fear¬ 
 ful sight, 
 
 And even woman seem’d to share the savage crowd s 
 delight; 
 
 But what the guilt that on the dead a fate so fearful 
 drew? 
 
 A blameless faith was all the crime the Christian 
 martyr knew : 
 
 And where the crimson current flow’d upon that 
 barren sand, 
 
 Up sprung a tree, whose vigorous boughs soon over¬ 
 spread the land ; 
 
 O’er distant isles its shadow fell, nor knew its roots 
 decay, 
 
 E’en when the Roman Caesar’s throne and empire 
 pass’d away .—Hamilton Buchanan. 
 
 2422. MARTYRS. Influence of the 
 
 We must behold no object save our country, 
 
 And only look on death as beautiful, 
 
 So that the sacrifice ascend to heaven, 
 
 And draw down freedom on her evermore. 
 
 « But if we fail ? ’ They never fail who die 
 In a great cause ! "I he block may soak their gore , 
 Their heads may sodden in the sun ; their limbs 
 Be strung to city gates and castle walls ; 
 
 But still their spirit walks abroad. 1 hough years 
 Elapse, and others share as dark a doom, 
 
 They but augment the deep and sweeping thoughts 
 Which overpower all others, and conduct 
 
 The world, at last, to freedom. What were we, 
 
 If Brutus had not lived ? He died in giving 
 Rome liberty, but left a deathless lesson— 
 
 A name which is a virtue, and a soul 
 
 Which multiplies itself throughout all time.— Byron. 
 
 2423. MARTYRS : secret of their triumphs. 
 
 Let our choir new anthems raise ; 
 
 Wake the morn with gladness : 
 
 God Himself to joy and praise 
 Turns the martyrs’ sadness. 
 
 This the day that won their crown, 
 
 Open’d heaven’s bright portal, 
 
 As they laid the mortal down, 
 
 And put on the immortal. 
 
 Never flinch’d they from the flame, 
 
 From the torture never ; 
 
 Vain the foeman’s sharpest aim, 
 
 Satan’s best endeavour: 
 
 For by faith they saw the land, 
 
 Deck’d in all its glory, 
 
 Where triumphant now they stand 
 With the victor’s story. 
 
 Faith they had that knew not shame, 
 
 Love that could not languish ; 
 
 And eternal hope o’ercame 
 Momentary anguish. 
 
 He who trod the self-same road, 
 
 Death and hell defeated ; 
 
 Wherefore these their passions show’d, 
 
 Calvary repeated. 
 
 Up and follow, Christian men ! 
 
 Press through toil and sorrow ! 
 
 Spurn the sight of fear, and then, 
 
 Oh, the glorious morrow ! 
 
 Who will venture on the strife ? 
 
 Who will first begin it ? 
 
 Who will seize the land of life ? 
 
 Warriors, up and win it ! 
 
 St foseph of the Stadium, tr. by f. M. Neale. 
 
 2424. MARTYRS. Seed of the 
 
 Avenge, O Lord, Thy slaughter’d saints, whose 
 bones 
 
 Lie scatter’d on the Alpine mountains cold, 
 
 Even them who kept thy truth so pure of old, 
 When all our fathers worshipp’d stocks and stones, 
 Forget not in Thy book \ record their gioans 
 Who were Thy sheep, and in their ancient folds 
 Slain by the bloody Piedmontese, that roll’d 
 Mother with infant down the rocks. Their moans 
 The vales redoubled to the hills, and they 
 
MARTYRS 
 
 470 
 
 MED IT A TION 
 
 To Heaven. Their martyr’d blood and ashes sow 
 O’er all th’ Italian fields, where still doth sway 
 The triple Tyrant : that from these may grow 
 A hundred-fold, who having leam’d Thy way, 
 
 Early may fly the Babylonian woe.— Milton. 
 
 2425. MARTYRS. Support of the 
 
 When persecution’s torrent blaze 
 
 Wraps the unshrinking martyr’s head. 
 
 When fade all earthly flowers and bays, 
 
 When summer friends are gone and fled, 
 
 Is he alone in that dark hour, 
 
 Who owns the Lord oflove and power? 
 
 Or waves there not around his brow 
 A wand no human arm may wield, 
 
 Fraught with a spell no angels know, 
 
 His steps to guide, his soul to shield ? 
 
 Thou, Saviour, art his Charmed Bower, 
 
 His Magic Ring, his Rock, his Tower.— Keble. 
 
 2426. MARTYRS : their victory. 
 
 They seem’d to die on battle-field, 
 
 To die with justice, truth, and law ; 
 
 The bloody corpse, the broken shield, 
 
 Were all that senseless folly saw. 
 
 But, like Antaeus, from the turf, 
 
 They sprung refresh’d, to strive again, 
 Where’er the savage and the serf 
 Rise to the rank of men. 
 
 They seem’d to die by sword and fire, 
 
 Their voices hush’d in endless sleep ; 
 
 Well might the noblest cause expire 
 
 Beneath that mangled, smouldering heap ! 
 Yet that wan band, unarm’d, defied 
 The legions of their pagan foes ; 
 
 And in the truths they testified, 
 
 From out the ashes rose. 
 
 2427. MARY—at the cross. 
 
 At the cross her station keeping, 
 
 Stood the mournful Mother weeping, 
 
 Where He hung, her Son and Lord ; 
 
 For her soul, of joy bereaved, 
 
 Bow’d with anguish, deeply grieved, 
 
 Felt the sharp and piercing sword. 
 
 Oh, how sad and sore distressed 
 Now was she, that Mother blessed 
 Of the sole-begotten One ; 
 
 Deep the woe of her affliction 
 When she saw the Crucifixion 
 Of her ever-glorious Son. 
 
 Who, on Christ’s dear Mother gazing, 
 
 Pierced by anguish so amazing, 
 
 Born of woman, would not weep ? 
 
 Who, on Christ’s dear Mother thinking, 
 
 Such a cup of sorrow drinking, 
 
 Would not share her sorrows deep? 
 
 For His people’s sins chastised 
 She beheld her Son despised, 
 
 Scourged, and crown’d with thorns entwined ; 
 Saw Him then from judgment taken, 
 
 And in death by all forsaken, 
 
 Till His Spirit He resign’d. 
 
 . • • • • ’ 
 
 Jesu, may such deep devotion 
 Stir in me the same emotion, 
 
 Fount of love, Redeemer kind ! 
 
 That my heart, fresh ardour gaining, 
 
 And a purer love attaining, 
 
 May with Thee acceptance find. 
 
 Tr. from the Latin , by Caswall. 
 
 2428. MEDALS. 
 
 Ambition sigh’d : she found it vain to trust 
 The faithless column and the crumbling bust. 
 
 Huge moles, whose shadow stretch’d from shore to 
 shore, 
 
 Their ruins perish d, and their place no more ; 
 Convinced, she now contracts the vast design, 
 
 All her triumphs sink into a coin. 
 
 A narrow orb each crowded conquest keeps ; 
 
 Beneath her palm here sad Judaea weeps ; 
 
 Now scantier limits the proud arch confine, 
 
 And scarce are seen the prostrate Nile or Rhine ; 
 
 A small Euphrates through the piece is roll’d, 
 
 And little eagles wave their wings in gold.— Pope. 
 
 2429. MEDICINE. 
 
 Physic can but mend our crazy state ; 
 Patch an old building, not a new create. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 What art so noble as the healing art, 
 
 When by the sick it plays its godlike part ? 
 
 What more revolting to the good and pure 
 Than physic, which procrastinates the cure ? 
 
 Yet why from science claim her ready balm, 
 
 While folly gilds tenfold the treacherous palm > 
 
 Why not test science as you test your food 
 Examine first and then pronounce it good! 
 
 Why put a thing whose nature you but guess 
 Into a thing whereof you know still less, 
 
 Whether you find it help your health or no, 
 
 Simply because your doctor tells you so? 
 
 2430. MEDITATION. 
 
 ’Tis greatly wise to talk with our past hours, 
 
 And ask them what report they bore to heaven, 
 
 And how they might have borne more welcome news. 
 
 Young. 
 
MEETING 
 
 47i 
 
 MEMORIES OF CHILDHOOD 
 
 2431. MEETING. Hope of 
 
 Joyful words—we meet again ! 
 
 Love’s own language, comfort darting 
 Through the souls of friends at parting, 
 
 Life in Death we meet again. 
 
 While we walk this vale of tears, 
 
 « 
 
 Compass’d round with care and sorrow, 
 
 Gloom to-day, and storm to-morrow, 
 
 ‘Meet again,’ our bosom cheers. 
 
 Far in exile, when we roam, 
 
 O’er our last endearments weeping, 
 
 Lonely vigils silent keeping, 
 
 * Meet again ’ transports us home. 
 
 When the weary world is past, 
 
 Happy they whose spirits soaring, 
 
 Vast eternity exploring, 
 
 ‘Meet again’ in heaven at last. —Montgomery. 
 
 2432. MEETING. Prophecy of 
 
 Those we love can never perish ; 
 
 They at most but disappear, 
 
 And their memories we cherish, 
 
 While, unseen, we feel them near. 
 
 Soon we’ll leave the mists and vapours 
 Which pervade the vale of tears, 
 
 And the dimly burning tapers 
 ' That but mock our hopes and fears ; 
 
 Pass within the realms supernal, 
 
 Where the seeming is the real, 
 
 And the transient, the eternal, 
 
 In the loftiest ideal. 
 
 There we’ll meet the loved departed 
 When ‘ life’s weary wheels stand still! ’ 
 
 Meet the noble, the true-hearted, 
 
 Who life’s mission here fulfil. 
 
 Friends and lovers, sisters, brothers, 
 
 With the thousands we hold dear; 
 
 Fathers, daughters, sons, and mothers, 
 
 Within that celestial sphere. — C. C. Bedell. 
 
 2433. MELANCHOLY. Causes of 
 
 Sweet recreation barr’d, what doth ensue, 
 
 But moody and dull Melancholy 
 (Kinsman to grim and comfortless Despair), 
 And at her heels a huge infectious troop 
 Of pale distemperatures and foes to life. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 We’re not ourselves, 
 
 When nature, being opprest, commands the mind 
 To suffer with the’body.— Shakespeare. 
 
 2434. MELANCHOLY. Cure of 
 
 Some high or humble enterprise of good 
 Contemplate, till it shall possess thy mind, 
 
 Become thy study, pastime, rest, and food, 
 
 And kindle in thy heart a flame refined. 
 
 Pray Heaven with firmness thy whtde soul to bind 
 To this thy purpose,—to begin, pursue, 
 
 With thoughts all fix’d, and feelings purely kind ; 
 Strength to complete, and with delight review, 
 
 And grace to give the praise where all is ever due. 
 
 Rouse to some work of high and holy love, 
 
 And thou an angel’s happiness shalt know ; 
 
 Shalt bless the earth while in the world above; 
 
 The good begun by thee shall onward flow 
 In many a branching stream, and wider grow ; 
 
 The seed that, in these few and fleeting hours, 
 
 Thy hands, unsparing and unwearied, sow. 
 
 Shall deck thy grave with amaranthine flowers, 
 
 And yield thee fruits divine in heaven’s immortal 
 bowers.— IVilcox. 
 
 2435. MELANCHOLY. Effects of 
 
 This melancholy flatters, but unmans you; 
 What is it else but penury of soul, 
 
 A lazy frost, a numbness of the mind 'l—Dryden. 
 
 When the sun sets, shadows that show’d at noon 
 But small, appear most long and terrible : 
 
 So when we think fate hovers o’er our heads, 
 
 Our apprehensions shoot beyond all bounds: 
 
 Owls, ravens, crickets, seem the watch of death ; 
 Nature’s worst vermin scare her godlike sons: 
 Echoes, the very leavings of a voice, 
 
 Grow babbling ghosts, and call us to our graves. 
 Each mole-hill thought swells to a huge Olympus ; 
 While we, fantastic dreamers, heave and puff 
 And sweat with our imagination’s weight.— Lee. 
 
 Melancholy 
 
 Sits on me as a cloud along the sky, 
 
 Which will not let the sunbeams through, nor yet 
 Descend in rain, and end ; but spreads itself 
 ’Twixt heaven and earth, like envy between man 
 And man,—an everlasting mist.— Byron. 
 
 2436. MELANCHOLY : not always an evil. 
 
 There is a mood 
 (I sing not to the vacant and the young), 
 
 There is a kindly mood of melancholy, 
 
 That wings the soul, and points her to the skies. 
 
 Dyer. 
 
 2437. MEMORIES OF CHILDHOOD. 
 
 Be it a weakness, it deserves some praise,— 
 
 We love the play-place of our early days: 
 
MEMORIES OF CHILDHOOD 472 
 
 MEMORY 
 
 The scene is touching, and the heart is stone 
 That feels not at that sight, and feels at home. 
 
 Cozvper. 
 
 I remember, I remember 
 
 The house where I was born, 
 
 The little window where the sun 
 Came peeping in at morn : 
 
 He never came a wink too soon, 
 
 Nor brought too long a day ; 
 
 But now I often wish the night 
 Had borne my breath away ! 
 
 I remember, I remember 
 The roses red and white, 
 
 The violets and lily-cups, 
 
 Those flowers made of light ! 
 
 The lilacs where the robin built, 
 
 And where my brother set 
 The laburnum on his birthday,— 
 
 The tree is growing yet ! 
 
 I remember, I remember 
 
 The fir-trees dark and high— 
 
 I used to think their slender tops 
 Were close against the sky: 
 
 It was a childish ignorance ; 
 
 But now ’tis little joy 
 To know I’m farther off from heaven 
 Than when I was a boy !— Hood. 
 
 Oh joy ! that in our embers 
 Is something that doth live, 
 
 That nature yet remembers 
 What was so fugitive ! 
 
 The thought of our past years in me doth breed 
 Perpetual benediction: not, indeed, 
 
 For that which is most worthy to be blest— 
 Delight and liberty, the simple creed 
 Of childhood, whether busy or at rest, 
 
 With new-fledged hope still fluttering in his breast 
 Not for these I raise 
 The song of thanks and praise ; 
 
 But for those obstinate questionings 
 Of sense and outward things, 
 
 Fallings from us, vanishings, 
 
 Blank misgivings of a creature 
 Moving about in worlds not realized, 
 
 High instincts, before which our mortal nature 
 Did tremble like a guilty thing surprised— 
 
 But for those first affections. 
 
 Those shadowy recollections, 
 
 Which, be they what they may, 
 
 Are yet the fountain-light of all our day, 
 
 Are yet a master light of all our seeing, 
 
 Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make 
 Our noisy years seem moments in the being 
 Of the eternal silence : truths that wake 
 
 To perish never— 
 
 Which neither listlessness, nor mad endeavour. 
 
 Nor man nor boy, 
 
 Nor all that is at enmity with joy, 
 
 Can utterly abolish or destroy ! 
 
 Hence in a season of calm weather, 
 
 Though inland far we be, 
 
 Our souls have sight of that immortal sea 
 Which brought us hither— 
 
 Can in a moment travel thither, 
 
 And see the children sport upon the shore, 
 
 And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 Here, while I roved—a heedless boy— 
 
 Here, while through paths of peace I ran, 
 
 My feet were vex’d with puny snares, 
 
 My bosom stung with insect-cares : 
 
 But, ah ! what light and little things 
 
 Are childhood’s woes !—they break no rest : 
 Like dew-drops on the skylark s wings 
 While slumbering in his grassy nest, 
 
 Gone in a moment, when he springs 
 To meet the morn with open breast, 
 
 As o’er the eastern hills her banners glow, 
 
 And veil’d in mist the valley sleeps below. 
 
 James Montgomery. 
 
 Ah me ! those joyous days are gone ! 
 
 I little dreamt, till they were flown, 
 
 How fleeting were the hours ! 
 
 For, lest he break the pleasing spell, 
 
 Time bears for youth a muffled bell, 
 
 And hides his face in flowers. 
 
 Ah ! well I mind me of the days, 
 
 Still bright in memory’s flattering rays, 
 
 When all was fair and new ; 
 
 When knaves were only found in books, 
 
 And friends were known by friendly looks, 
 
 And love was always true !—John G. Saxe. 
 
 2438. MEMORY. Bells of 
 
 Hark ! the faint bells of the sunken city 
 
 Peal once more their wonted evening chime ! 
 From the deep abysses floats a ditty, 
 
 Wild and wondrous, of the olden time. 
 
 Temples, towers, and domes of many stories 
 There lie buried in an ocean grave— 
 
 Undescried, save when their golden glories 
 Gleam, at sunset, through the lighted wave. 
 
 And the mariner who had seen them glisten, 
 
 In whose ears those magic bells do sound, 
 
 Night by night bides there to watch and listen, 
 
 I Though death lurks behind each dark rock round. 
 
MEMORY 
 
 473 
 
 MEM OR Y 
 
 So the bells of memory’s wonder-city 
 Peal for me their old melodious chime ; 
 
 So my heart pours forth a changeful ditty, 
 
 Sad and pleasant, from the bygone time. 
 
 Domes and towers and castles, fancy-builded. 
 
 There lie lost to daylight’s garish beams— 
 
 There lie hidden till unveil’d and gilded, 
 Glory-gilded, by my nightly dreams ! 
 
 And then hear I music sweet upknelling 
 From many a well-known phantom band, 
 
 And, through tears, can see my natural dwelling 
 Far off in the spirit’s luminous land ! 
 
 Mueller , tr. by Mangan. 
 
 2439. MEMORY. Function of 
 
 Had memory been lost with innocence, 
 
 We had not known the sentence nor th’ offence : 
 ’Twas his chief punishment to keep in store 
 The sad remembrance what he was before. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 2440. MEMORY. Joys of 
 
 Let Fate do her worst, there are moments of joy, 
 Bright dreams of the past, which she cannot destroy, 
 Which come in the night-time of sorrow and care, 
 And bring back the features that Joy used to wear. 
 
 Moore. 
 
 When time, which steals our years away, 
 
 Shall steal our pleasures too, 
 
 The memory of the past will stay, 
 
 And half our joy renew.— Moore. 
 
 Long, long be my heart with such memories fill’d ! 
 Like the vase in which roses have - once been distill’d : 
 You may break, you may ruin the vase if you will; 
 
 But the scent of the roses will hang round it still. 
 
 Moore. 
 
 There are moments of life that we never forget, 
 Which brighten and brighten as time steals away ; 
 They give a new charm to the happiest lot, 
 
 And they shine on the gloom of the loneliest day. 
 
 Percival. 
 
 2441. MEMORY. Light of 
 
 Oft, in the stilly night, 
 
 Ere slumber’s chain has bound me, 
 
 Fond memory brings the light 
 Of other days around me ; 
 
 The smiles, the tears, 
 
 Of boyhood’s years, 
 
 The words of love then spoken, 
 
 The eye that shone, 
 
 Now dimm’d and gone, 
 
 The cheerful hearts now broken ! 
 
 When I remember all 
 
 The friends, so link’d together, 
 
 I’ve seen around me fall, 
 
 Like leaves in wintry weather ; 
 
 I feel like one 
 Who treads alone 
 Some banquet-hall deserted, 
 
 Whose lights are fled, 
 
 Whose garlands dead, 
 
 And all but he departed !— Moore. 
 
 2442. MEMORY of the heart. 
 
 If stores of dry and learned lore we gain, 
 
 We keep them in the memory of the brain ; 
 
 Names, things, and facts—whate’er we knowledge 
 call— 
 
 There is the common ledger for them all ; 
 
 And images on this cold surface traced 
 Make slight impression, and are soon effaced. 
 
 But we’ve a page, more glowing and more bright, 
 
 On which our friendship and our love to write ; 
 
 That these may never from the soul depart, 
 
 We trust them to the memory of the heart. 
 
 There is no dimming, no effacement there ; 
 
 Each new pulsation keeps the record clear; 
 
 Warm, golden letters all the tablet fill, 
 
 Nor lose their lustre till the heart stands still. 
 
 Daniel Webster. 
 
 2443. MEMORY. Perpetuation of 
 
 Not myself, but the truth that in life I have spoken, 
 Not myself, but the seed that in life I have sown, 
 Shall pass on to ages—all about me forgotten, 
 
 Save the truth I have spoken, the things I have 
 done. 
 
 So let my living be, so be my dying ; 
 
 So let my name lie, unblazon’d, unknown ; 
 Unpraised and unmiss’d, I shall still be remember’d ; 
 Yes—but remember’d by what I have done. 
 
 Bonar. 
 
 2444. MEMORY : quickened into exercise. 
 
 Lull’d in the countless chambers of the brain, 
 Our thoughts are link’d by many a hidden chain ; 
 Awake but one, and lo, what myriads rise ! 
 
 Each stamps its image as the other flies !— Rogers. 
 
 As letters some hand has invisibly traced, 
 
 When held to the flame will steal out to the sight, 
 So, many a feeling that long seem’d effaced, 
 
 The warmth of a meeting like this brings to light! 
 
 Moore. 
 
 2445. MEMORY. Sorrows of 
 
 When musing on companions gone, 
 
 We doubly feel ourselves alone.— Scott. 
 
MEN 
 
 474 
 
 MERCY 
 
 But ever and anon of griefs subdued. 
 
 There comes a token like a scorpion’s sting, 
 
 Scarce seen but with fresh bitterness imbued ; 
 
 And slight withal may be the things which bring 
 Back on the heart the weight, which it would fling 
 Aside for ever : it may be a sound— 
 
 A tone of music—summer’s eve—or spring, 
 
 A flower—the wind—the ocean—which shall wound, 
 Striking the electric chain wherewith we are darkly 
 bound ; 
 
 And how and why we know not, nor can trace 
 Home to its cloud this lightning of the mind, 
 
 But feel the shock renew’d, nor can efface 
 
 The blight and blackening which it leaves behind, 
 Which out of things familiar, undesign’d, 
 
 When least we deem of such, calls up to view 
 The spectres whom no exorcism can bind, 
 
 The cold—the changed—perchance the dead—anew, 
 The mourn’d, the loved, the lost—too many ! yet 
 how few !— Byron. 
 
 We might have been,—these are but common words, 
 And yet they make the sum of life’s bewailing : 
 They are the echo of those finer chords 
 
 Whose music we deplore, when unavailing. 
 
 We might have been ! 
 
 Life knoweth no like misery : the rest 
 
 Are single sorrows ; but in this are blended 
 All sweet emotions that disturb the breast; 
 
 The light that once was loveliest is ended. 
 
 We might have been ! 
 
 Henceforth, how much of the full heart must be 
 A sealed book, at whose contents we tremble ! 
 
 A still voice mutters ’mid our misery, 
 
 The worst to bear, because it must dissemble, 
 
 We might have been ! 
 
 L. E. London. 
 
 No joy like by-past joy appears ; 
 
 For what is gone we fret and pine : 
 
 Were life spun out a thousand years, 
 
 It could not match Langsyne \—Moir. 
 
 2446. MEN. 
 
 How few are found with real talents bless’d, 
 Fewer with nature’s gifts contented rest. 
 
 Man from his sphere eccentric starts astray, 
 
 All hunt for fame, but most mistake the way. 
 
 Churchill. 
 
 The way to conquer men is by their passions ; 
 Catch but the ruling foible of their hearts, 
 
 And all their boasted virtues shrink before you. 
 
 Tolson. 
 
 Men are machines, with all their boasted freedom, 
 Their movements turn upon some favourite passion ; 
 Let art but find the foible out, 
 
 We touch the spring, and wind them at our pleasure. 
 
 Brooke. 
 
 Consider, man, weigh well thy frame : 
 
 The king, the beggar, are the same ; 
 
 Dust form’d us all. Each breathes his day, 
 Then sinks into his native clay. — Gay. 
 
 The million flit as gay, 
 
 As if created only like the fly 
 
 That spreads his motley wings in th’ eye of noon, 
 
 To sport their season, and be seen no more. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 ’Tis vain to seek in men for more than man. 
 
 Though proud in promise, big in previous thought, 
 Experience damps our triumph. — Young. 
 
 2447. MERCY : an attribute of God. 
 
 Good Heaven, whose darling attribute we find 
 Is boundless grace, and mercy to mankind, 
 Abhors the cruel.— Dry den. 
 
 2448. MERCY. Blessed 
 
 The quality of mercy is not strain’d— 
 
 It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven 
 Upon the place beneath : it is twice bless’d— 
 
 It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes: 
 
 ’Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes 
 The throned monarch better than his crown : 
 
 His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, 
 
 The attribute to awe and majesty, 
 
 Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings : 
 
 But mercy is above this sceptred sway— 
 
 It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, 
 
 It is an attribute to God Himself; 
 
 And earthly power doth then show likest God's, 
 When mercy seasons justice.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Less pleasure take brave minds in battle won 
 Than in restoring such as are undone : 
 
 Tigers have courage, and the rugged bear, 
 
 But man alone can, whom he conquers, spare. 
 
 Waller. 
 
 2449. MERCY. Duty of 
 
 Though justice be thy plea, consider this,— 
 That in the course of justice, none of us 
 Should see salvation : we do pray for mercy ; 
 And that same prayer doth teach us all to render 
 The deeds of mercy.— Shakespeare. 
 
 How would you be, 
 
 If He, which is the top of judgment, should 
 
MERCY 
 
 475 
 
 MERCY 
 
 But judge as you do ? Oh, think on that: 
 
 And mercy then will breathe within your lips, 
 Like man new made !— Shakespeare. 
 
 Oh think ! think upward on the thrones above : 
 Disdain not mercy, since they mercy love; 
 
 If mercy were not mingled with their power. 
 This wretched world could not subsist an hour. 
 
 Davenant. 
 If Heaven 
 
 Did in the balance of strict justice weigh 
 The iniquity of men, who could abide 
 Its judgment? Did not mercy temper wrath, 
 Eternal ruin would o’erwhelm mankind.— Hayes. 
 
 Teach me to feel another’s woe, 
 
 To hide the fault I see ; 
 
 That mercy I to others show, 
 
 That mercy show to me.— Pope. 
 
 2450. MERCY. Emblem of 
 
 Softly, softly, falleth the snow, 
 
 Over the valleys, lone and low ; 
 
 Over the rugged and bleak hillside, 
 
 And the desolate fields outspreading wide. 
 
 All the noisome city street 
 
 Shows pure and clean in its beautiful sheet; 
 
 And sear, brown meadows, and wooded height, 
 Stand forth transfigured, and fair, and white. 
 
 So from Thy throne of light above 
 Look Thou upon us, O Lord of love, 
 
 And cover our sin and remove our woe, 
 
 By Thy dear mercy’s robe of snow.— Chapman. 
 
 2451. MERCY : free. 
 
 By faith I see my Saviour dying 
 
 On the tree; 
 
 To every sinner He is crying, 
 
 Look to me. 
 
 He bids the guilty soul draw near, 
 
 Come, come to me, dismiss your fear, 
 
 Hark, hark, these precious words I hear, 
 
 Look to me. 
 
 Did Christ, while I was sin pursuing, 
 
 Pity me ? 
 
 And did He save my soul from ruin ? 
 
 Can it be ? 
 
 Oh ! yes, He did salvation bring, 
 
 He is the Saviour, Priest, and King, 
 
 And now my happy soul can sing, 
 
 Mercy’s free. 
 
 How sweet the truth—ye sinners, hear it- 
 
 Mercy’s free. 
 
 Ye saints of God, to all declare it— 
 
 Mercy’s free. 
 
 Visit the heathen’s dark abode, 
 
 Proclaim to all the love of God, 
 
 And spread the joyous news abroad— 
 
 Mercy’s free. 
 
 Long as I’m here, I’ll still be telling, 
 
 Mercy’s free. 
 
 And ever on His love be dwelling;— 
 
 Mercy’s free. 
 
 And when the vale of tears I’ve past, 
 
 When lodged above the stormy blast, 
 
 His praise I’ll sing while ages last, 
 
 Whose mercy’s free. 
 
 2452. MERCY. Power of 
 
 To threats the stubborn .sinner oft is hard, 
 
 Wrapp’d in his crimes, against the storm prepared ; 
 But when the milder beams of mercy play, 
 
 He melts, and throws his cumbrous cloak away. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 2456. MERCY: the crown of justice. 
 
 The greatest attribute of Heaven is mercy ; 
 
 And ’tis the crown of justice, and the glory, 
 Where it may kill with right, to save with pity. 
 
 Beaumont and Fletcher. 
 
 2453. MERCY : rarely shown by men. 
 
 Hard is his fate who builds his peace of mind 
 On the precarious mercy of mankind ; 
 
 Who hopes for wild and visionary things, 
 
 And mounts o’er unknown seas with vent’rous wings. 
 
 Crabbe. 
 
 2454. MERCY. Rescue of 
 
 Had not the milder hand of mercy broke 
 The furious violence of that fatal stroke 
 Offended justice struck, we had been quite 
 Lost in the shadows of eternal night. 
 
 Thy mercy, Lord, is like the morning sun, 
 
 Whose beams undo what sable night had done ; 
 Or, like a stream, the current of whose course, 
 Restrain’d awhile, runs with a swifter force. 
 
 Oh ! let me glow beneath those sacred beams, 
 After bathe me in those silver streams ; 
 
 To Thee alone my sorrows shall appeal; 
 
 Hath earth a wound too hard for Heaven to heal ? 
 
 Quarles. 
 
 2455. MERCY : the best prerogative of power. 
 
 O Mercy, heavenly born ! sweet attribute ! 
 
 Thou great, thou best prerogative of power ! 
 
 Justice may guard the throne, but join’d with thee, 
 On rocks of adamant it stands secure, 
 
 And braves the storm beneath.— Somemjille. 
 
MERCY 
 
 476 
 
 MESSIAH 
 
 2457. MERCY : the mark of heaven. 
 
 ’Tis mercy ! mercy ! 
 
 The mark of heaven impress’d on humankind, 
 Mercy that glads the world, deals joy around ; 
 Mercy that smooths the dreadful brow of power, 
 And makes dominion light; mercy that saves, 
 
 Binds up the broken heart, and heals despair. 
 
 Rowe. 
 
 2458. MERCY : the ornament of power. 
 
 No ceremony that to great ones ’longs, 
 
 Not the king’s crown, nor the deputed sword, 
 
 The marshal’s truncheon, nor the judge’s robe, 
 Become them with one half so good a grace 
 As mercy does.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Say—pardon, king ; let pity teach thee how : 
 
 The word is short, but not so short as sweet; 
 
 No word, like pardon, for kings’ mouths so sweet. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 2459. MERCY. Wisdom of 
 
 If little faults proceeding on distemper, 
 
 Shall not be wink’d at, how shall we stretch our eye, 
 When capital crimes, chew’d, swallow d, and di¬ 
 gested, 
 
 Appear before us ?— Shakespeare. 
 
 2460. MERCY. Works of 
 
 It was a worthy edifying sight, 
 
 And gives to humankind peculiar grace, 
 
 To see kind hands attending day and night, 
 
 With tender ministry, from place to place. 
 
 Some prop the head ; some from the pallid face 
 Wipe off the faint cold dews weak nature sheds ; 
 Some reach the healing draught: the whilst, to 
 chase 
 
 The fear supreme, around their soften’d heads 
 Some holy man by prayer all-opening Heaven dis¬ 
 preads. — Thomson. 
 
 Oh, Thou who once on earth, beneath the weight 
 Of our mortality didst live and move, 
 
 The incarnation of profoundest love ; 
 
 Who, on the Cross, that love didst consummate,— 
 Whose deep and ample fulness could embrace 
 The poorest, meanest of our fallen race ! 
 
 How shall we e’er that boundless debt repay ?— 
 
 By long, loud prayers in gorgeous temples said ? 
 By rich oblations on thine altars laid?— 
 
 Ah no! not thus Thou didst appoint the way. 
 
 When Thou wast bow’d our human woe beneath, 
 Then as a legacy Thou didst bequeath 
 Earth’s sorrowing children to our ministry ; 
 
 And as we do to them, we do to Thee. 
 
 Anne C. Lynch. 
 
 2461. MERIT. Attainment of 
 
 Talents angel-bright, 
 
 If wanting worth, are shining instruments 
 In false Ambition’s hand, to finish faults 
 Illustrious, and give to infamy renown. 
 
 Great ill is an achievement of great powers : 
 
 Plain sense but rarely leads us far astray. 
 
 Reason the means, affections choose our end: 
 
 Means have no merit, if our ends amiss : 
 
 If wrong our hearts, our heads are right in vain. 
 
 Our hearts ne’er bow but to superior worth ; 
 
 Nor ever fail of their allegiance there. 
 
 Fools, indeed, drop the man in their accounts, 
 
 And vote the mantle into majesty. 
 
 Let the small savage boast his silver fur, 
 
 His royal robe, unborrow’d and unbought— 
 
 His own, descending fairly from his sires. 
 
 Shall man be proud to wear his livery, 
 
 And souls in ermine scorn a soul without ? 
 
 Can place or lessen us or aggrandize ? 
 
 Pigmies are pigmies still, though perch’d on Alps ; 
 And pyramids are pyramids in vales. 
 
 Each man makes his own stature—builds himself. 
 Virtue alone out-builds the pyramids: 
 
 Her monuments shall last when Egypt’s fall. 
 
 High worth is elevated place : ’tis more : 
 
 It makes the post stand candidate for thee ; 
 
 Makes more than monarchs—makes an honest man. 
 Though no exchequer it commands, ’tis wealth ; 
 
 And though it wears no riband, ’tis renown ; 
 Renown that would not quit thee, though disgraced, 
 Nor leave thee pendent on a master’s smile. 
 
 Young. 
 
 2462. MERIT. Intrinsic 
 
 A jewel is a jewel still, though lying in the dust, 
 And sand is sand, though up to heaven by the tem¬ 
 pest thrust.— Oriental , tr. by W. R. Alger. 
 
 2463. MERIT. Modesty of 
 
 There’s a proud modesty in merit ! 
 Averse from asking, and resolved to pay 
 Ten times the gifts it asks .—Dry den. 
 
 2464. MERIT. Recognition of 
 
 Be thou the first true merit to befriend, 
 
 His praise is lost who waits till all commend. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 2465. MESSIAH. Reign of the 
 
 Ye nymphs of Solyma ! begin the song 
 To heavenly themes sublimer strains belong. 
 
 The mossy fountains and the sylvan shades, 
 
 The dreams of Pindus and the Aonian maids, 
 
ME SSI AN 
 
 Ml 
 
 MILLENNIUM 
 
 Delight no more—O Thou my voice inspire 
 Who touch’d Isaiah’s hallow’d lips with fire! 
 
 Rapt into future times the bard begun : 
 
 I A virgin shall conceive—a virgin bear a son ! 
 
 From Jesse’s root behold a branch arise 
 Whose sacred flower with fragrance fills the skies! 
 The ethereal spirit o’er its leaves shall move, 
 
 And on its top descends the mystic dove. 
 
 Ye heavens! from high the dewy nectar pour, 
 
 And in soft silence shed the kindly shower ! 
 
 The sick and weak the healing plant shall aid— 
 From storm a shelter, and from heat a shade. 
 
 All crimes shall cease, and ancient frauds shall fail; 
 Returning Justice lift aloft her scale, 
 
 Peace o’er the world her olive wand extend, 
 
 And white-robed Innocence from heaven descend. 
 Swift fly the year$, and rise the expected morn! 
 
 Oh spring to light! auspicious babe, be bom! 
 
 See, Nature hastes her earliest wreaths to bring, 
 
 . With all the incense of the breathing spring ! 
 
 See lofty Lebanon his head advance ; 
 
 See nodding forests on the mountains dance ; 
 
 See spicy clouds from lowly Sharon rise, 
 
 And Carmel’s flowery top perfumes the skies! 
 
 Hark! a glad voice the lonely desert cheers: 
 Prepare the way! a God, a God appears! 
 
 A God, a God! the vocal hills reply— 
 
 The rocks proclaim the approaching Deity. 
 
 Lo ! earth receives Him from the bending skies ! 
 Sink down, ye mountains, and, ye valleys, rise! 
 With heads declined, ye cedars, homage pay! 
 
 Be smooth, ye rocks ; ye rapid floods, give way ! 
 The Saviour comes! by ancient bards foretold. 
 
 Hear Him, ye deaf; and all ye blind, behold ! 
 
 He from thick films shall purge the visual ray, 
 
 And on the sightless eyeball pour the day ; 
 
 ’Tis He the obstructed paths of sound shall clear, 
 And bid new music charm the unfolding ear ; 
 
 The dumb shall sing; the lame his crutch forego, 
 And leap exulting like the bounding roe. 
 
 No sigh, no murmur, the wide world shall hear— 
 From every face He wipes off every tear. 
 
 In adamantine chains shall Death be bound, 
 
 And hell’s grim tyrant feel the eternal wound. 
 
 As the good shepherd tends his fleecy care, 
 
 Seeks freshest pasture, and the purest air, 
 
 Explores the lost, the wandering sheep directs, 
 
 By day o’ersees them, and by night protects ; 
 
 The tender lambs He raises in Plis arms— 
 
 Feeds from His hand, and in His bosom warms : 
 Thus shall mankind His guardian care engage— 
 The promised father of the future age. 
 
 No more shall nation against nation rise, 
 
 Nor ardent warriors meet with hateful eyes ; 
 
 Nor fields with gleaming steel be cover’d o’er, 
 
 The brazen trumpets kindle rage no more ; 
 
 But useless lances into scythes shall bend, 
 
 And the broad falchion in a ploughshare end. 
 
 Then palaces shall rise ; the joyful son 
 Shall finish what his short-lived sire begun. 
 
 Their vines a shadow to their race shall yield, 
 
 And the same hand that sow’d shall reap the field. 
 The swain in barren deserts with surprise 
 Sees lilies spring and sudden verdure rise ; 
 
 And starts, amidst the thirsty wilds, to hear 
 New falls of water murmuring in his ear. 
 
 On rifted rocks, the dragon’s late abodes, 
 
 The green reed trembles, and the bulrush nods ; 
 Waste, sandy valleys, once perplex’d with thorn, 
 
 The spiry fir and shapely box adorn ; 
 
 To leafless shrubs the flowery palms succeed, 
 
 And odorous myrtle to the noisome weed. 
 
 The lambs with wolves shall graze the verdant mead, 
 And boys in flowery bands the tiger lead ; 
 
 The steer and lion in one crib shall meet, 
 
 And harmless serpents lick the pilgrims’ feet. 
 
 The smiling infant in his hands shall take 
 The crested basilisk and speckled snake, 
 
 Pleased, the green lustre of the scales survey, 
 
 And with their forked tongues shall innocently play. 
 Rise ! crown’d with light, imperial Salem, rise ! 
 
 Exalt thy towery head, and lift thine eyes! 
 
 See a long race thy spacious courts adorn ; 
 
 See future sons and daughters, yet unborn, 
 
 In crowding ranks on every side arise, 
 
 Demanding life, impatient for the skies ! 
 
 See barbarous nations at thy gates attend, 
 
 Walk in thy light, and in thy temple bend ; 
 
 See thy bright altars throng’d with prostrate kings, 
 And heap’d with products of Sabaean springs ! 
 
 For thee Idume’s spicy forests blow, 
 
 And seeds of gold in Ophir’s mountains glow. 
 
 See heaven its sparkling portals wide display, 
 
 And break upon thee in a flood of day ! 
 
 No more the rising sun shall gild the morn, 
 
 Nor evening Cynthia fill her silver horn: 
 
 But lost, dissolved in thy superior rays, 
 
 One tide of glory, one unclouded blaze, 
 
 O’erflow thy courts ; the Light Himself shall shine 
 Reveal’d, and God’s eternal day be thine ! 
 
 The seas shall waste, the skies in smoke decay, 
 Rocks fall to dust, and mountains melt away ; 
 
 But fix’d His word, His saving power remains ; 
 
 Thy realm for ever lasts, thy own Messiah reigns ! 
 
 Pope. 
 
 2466. MILLENNIUM. Vision of the 
 
 For I dipt into the future, far as human eye could 
 see, 
 
 Saw the vision of the world, and all the wonder that 
 would be ; 
 
MILTON 
 
 478 
 
 MIND 
 
 Saw the heavens fill with commerce, argosies of 
 magic sails, 
 
 Pilots of the purple twilight, dropping down with 
 costly bales; 
 
 Heard the heavens fill with shouting, and there 
 rain’d a ghastly dew 
 
 From the nations’ airy navies grappling in the cen¬ 
 tral blue ; 
 
 Far along the world-wide whisper of the south-wind 
 rushing warm, 
 
 With the standards of the peoples plunging through 
 the thunder-storm ; 
 
 Till the war-drum throbb’d no longer, and the battle- 
 flags were furl’d 
 
 In the parliament of man, the federation of the 
 world. 
 
 There the common sense of most shall hold a fretful 
 realm in awe, 
 
 And the kindly earth shall slumber, lapt in universal 
 law. — Tennyson. 
 
 2467. MILTON. 
 
 Milton’s strong pinion now not heaven can bound, 
 Now, serpent-like, in prose he sweeps the ground, 
 
 In quibbles angel and archangel join, 
 
 And God the Father turns a school divine.— Pope. 
 
 2468. MIND. Contentment of 
 
 Sweet are the thoughts that savour of content— 
 The quiet mind is richer than a crown ; 
 
 Sweet are the nights in careless slumber spent; 
 
 The poor estate scorns fortune’s angry frown : 
 Such sweet content, such minds, such sleep, such 
 bliss, 
 
 Beggars enjoy, when princes oft do miss. 
 
 The homely house that harbours quiet rest, 
 
 The cottage that affords no pride or care, 
 
 The mean that ’grees with country music best, 
 
 The sweet consort of mirth and music’s fare, 
 Obscured life sets down a type of bliss : 
 
 A mind content both crown and kingdom is. 
 
 Greene. 
 
 2469. MIND. Freedom of the 
 
 Heads bow, knees bend, eyes watch around a throne, 
 And hands obey—our hearts are still our own. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 High walls and huge the body may confine, 
 
 And iron gates obstruct the prisoner’s gaze, 
 
 And massive bolts may baffle his design, 
 
 And vigilant keepers watch his devious ways : 
 
 Yet scorns the immortal mind this base control! 
 
 No chains can bind it and no cell enclose : 
 
 Swifter than light, it flies from pole to pole, 
 
 A.nd in a flash from earth to heaven it goes ! 
 
 It leaps from mount to mount, from vale to vale ; 
 
 It wanders, plucking honey’d fruits and flovers ; 
 
 It visits home, to hear the fireside tale, 
 
 Or, in sweet converse, pass the joyous hours ; 
 
 ’Tis up before the sun, roaming afar, 
 
 And in its watches wearies every star.— Garrison. 
 
 2470. MIND. Hue of the 
 
 When the first larvae on the elm are seen, 
 
 The crawling wretches, like its leaves, are green; 
 
 Ere chill October shakes the latest down, 
 
 They, like the foliage, change their tint to brown ; 
 On the blue flower a bluer flower you spy, 
 
 You stretch to pluck it—’tis a butterfly ; 
 
 The flatten’d tree-toads so resemble bark, 
 
 They’re hard to find as Ethiops in the dark ; 
 
 The woodcock, stiffening to fictitious mud, 
 
 Cheats the young sportsman thirsting for his blood. 
 So by long living on a single lie, 
 
 Nay, on one truth, will creatures get its dye. 
 
 0 . W. Holmes. 
 
 Be not always on affairs intent, 
 
 But let thy thoughts be easy and unbent; 
 
 When our minds’ eyes are disengaged and free, 
 They clearer, farther, and distinctly see. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 2471. MIND. Index of 
 
 There is to whom all things are easy ; his mind, as 
 a master-key, 
 
 Can open, with intuitive address, the treasuries of 
 art and science : 
 
 There is to whom all things are hard; but industry 
 giveth him a crowbar, 
 
 To force, with groaning labour, the stubborn lock of 
 learning : 
 
 And often, when thou lookest on an eye, dim in 
 native dulness, 
 
 Little shalt thou wot of the wealth diligence hath 
 gathered to its gaze : 
 
 Often the brow that should be bright with the dor¬ 
 mant fire of genius, 
 
 Within its ample halls, hath ignorance the tenant. 
 Yet are not the sons of men cast as in moulds by the 
 lot ? 
 
 The like in frame and feature hath much alike in 
 spirit; 
 
 Such a shape hath such a soul, so that a deep dis- 
 cerner 
 
 From his make will read the man, and err not far in 
 judgment : 
 
 Yea, and it holdeth in the converse, that growing 
 similarity of mind 
 
 Findeth or maketh for itself an apposite dwelling in 
 the body: 
 
MIND 
 
 479 
 
 MINISTER 
 
 Accident may modify, circumstances may bevel, 
 externals seem to change it, 
 
 But still the primitive crystal is latent in its many 
 
 variations : 
 
 For the map of the face, and the picture of the eye, 
 are traced by the pen of passion ; 
 
 And the mind fashioneth a tabernacle suitable for 
 
 itself.— Tupper. 
 
 2,472. MIND : its influence on the body. 
 
 Time has small power 
 
 O’er features the mind moulds. Roses where 
 
 They once have bloom’d a fragrance leave behind ; 
 And harmony will linger on the wind ; 
 
 And suns continue to light up the air, 
 
 When set; and music from the broken shrine, 
 Breathes, it is said, around whose altar-stone 
 His flower the votary has ceased to twine : 
 
 Types of the beauty that, when youth is gone, 
 
 Breathes from the soul whose brightness mocks 
 decline.— Hill. 
 
 If 
 
 2473. MIND ; its power of adaptation. 
 
 The mind doth shape itself to its own wants, 
 And can bear all things. —Joanna Bcullie. 
 
 , 2476. MIND : overwrought. 
 
 With curious art the brain, too finely wrought, 
 
 Y Preys on herself, and is destroy d by thought, 
 Constant attention wears the active mind, 
 
 ’ Blots out her powers, and leaves a blank behind. 
 
 • Churchill. 
 
 ' r 2477. MIND. Spiritual 
 
 Thrice blessed is the man with whom 
 The gracious prodigality of nature, 
 
 The balm, the bliss, the beauty, and the bloom, 
 The bounteous providence in every feature, 
 Recall the good Creator to His creature, 
 
 •; Making all earth a fane, all heaven its dome ! 
 
 To his tuned spirit the wild heather-bells 
 Ring Sabbath knells ; 
 
 The jubilate of the soaring lark 
 Is chant of clerk ; 
 
 For choir, the thrush and the gregarious linnet; 
 The sod’s a cushion for his pious want: 
 ks And, consecrated by the heaven within it, 
 
 The sky-blue pool, a font. 
 
 Each cloud-capp’d mountain is a holy altar ; 
 
 An organ breathes in every grove ; 
 
 And the full heart’s a Psalter, 
 
 Rich in deep hymns of gratitude and love \—Hood. 
 
 2478. MIND : the seat of bliss or woe. 
 
 \ 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 2474. MIND. Kingdom of the 
 
 Place me on some desert shore 
 Foot of man ne’er wander’d o’er ; 
 
 Lock me in some lonely cell 
 Beneath some prison citadel; 
 
 Still, here or there, within I find 
 My quiet kingdom of the mind ; 
 
 Nay, ’mid the tempest fierce and dark, 
 
 Float me in peril’s frailest bark, 
 
 My quenchless soul could sit and think, 
 
 And smile at danger’s dizziest blink. 
 
 And wherefore ? God, my God, is still 
 King of kings in good or ill; 
 
 And where He dwelleth—everywhere— 
 
 Safety supreme and peace are there ; 
 
 And where He reigneth—all around 
 Wisdom and love and power are found ; 
 
 And reconciled to Him and bliss, 
 
 My mind to me a kingdom is.— Tupper. 
 
 2475. MIND : longs for fellowship. 
 
 The mind within me panted after mind, 
 
 The spirit sigh’d to meet a kindred spirit, 
 
 And in my human heart there was a void, 
 
 Which nothing but humanity could fill. 
 
 Janies Montgomery. 
 
 Hail, horrors ! hail, 
 
 Infernal world, and thou, profoundest hell, 
 Receive thy new possessor ; one who brings 
 A mind not to be changed by place or time. 
 
 The mind is its own place, and in itself 
 Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 2479. MINISTER. An ambitious 
 
 Nay, stoop not thus ! Thou bearest precious seed, 
 Richer than all the wealth of mine or sea. 
 
 Strive not to grasp this world’s vain, glittering meed ! 
 
 Its laurels are not twined for such as thee j 
 A living crown awaits thy radiant brow, 
 
 And thou should’st gather jewels for it now. 
 
 What would’st thou have ? the meteor of an eve, 
 
 The mildew’d wreath, the worm-enclosing flower, 
 The fading things that dying fingers weave, 
 
 The star that darkens at its rising hour ? 
 
 Would’st chase the frolic phantom men call Fame, 
 And on her crumbling tablet write thy name ? 
 
 Thy name is written in the Book of Life, 
 
 The glorious tablet of the King of kings ; 
 
 Degrade it not by this poor, paltry strife, 
 
 This clamorous rush for tinsell’d, cankering things ; 
 Leave to poor dazzled moths the giddy lound, 
 
 Since on some loftier mission thou art bound. 
 
MINISTER 
 
 480 
 
 MIRACLE 
 
 ' Tis thine to watch thy Master’s budding vine, 
 
 Till the ripe fruit in purple clusters falls ; 
 
 The ever-radiant threads of truth to twine, 
 
 A golden clue to those celestial halls, 
 
 Where, when the kingdoms of the earth decay 
 And suns are dim, thou’lt live in endless day. 
 
 Emily Judson. 
 
 2480. MINISTER. Faithful 
 
 How beautiful it is for man to die 
 Upon the walls of Zion ! to be call’d, 
 
 Like a watch-worn and weary sentinel, 
 
 To put his armour off, and rest—in heaven ! 
 
 Willis. 
 
 2481. MINISTER. Honour of the 
 
 I thank Thee, Lord, for using me 
 For Thee to work and speak ; 
 
 However trembling is the hand, 
 
 The voice however weak. 
 
 For those to whom, through me, Thou hast 
 Some heavenly guidance given ; 
 
 For some, it may be, saved from death, 
 
 And some brought nearer heaven. 
 
 Oh honour higher, truer far, 
 
 Than earthly fame could bring, 
 
 Thus to be used, in work like this. 
 
 So long, by such a King ! 
 
 A blunted sword, a rusted spear, 
 
 Which only He could wield : 
 
 A broken sickle in His hand, 
 
 To reap His harvest-field !— Bonar. 
 
 2482. MINISTER. The unfaithful 
 
 But the unfaithful priest, what tongue 
 Enough shall execrate ! His doctrine may 
 Be pass’d, though mix’d with most unhallow’d 
 leaven, 
 
 That proved to those who foolishly partook, 
 
 Eternal bitterness : but this was still 
 
 His sin—beneath what cloak soever veil’d — 
 
 His ever growing and perpetual sin, 
 
 First, last, and middle thought, whence every wish, 
 Whence every action rose, and ended both— 
 
 To mount to place and power of worldly sort ; 
 
 To ape the gaudy pomp and equipage 
 Of earthly state, and on his mitred brow 
 To place a royal crown : for this he sold 
 The sacred truth to him who most would give 
 Of titles, benefices, honours, names : 
 
 For this betray’d his Master : and for this 
 Made merchandise of the immortal souls 
 Committed to his care—this was his sin. 
 
 Of all who office held unfairly, none 
 Could plead excuse ; he least and last of all. 
 
 By solemn, awful ceremony, he 
 Was set apart to speak the truth entire, 
 
 By action, and by word ; and round him stood 
 The people, from his lips expecting knowledge 
 One day in seven, the Holy Sabbath term’d. 
 
 They stood ; for he had sworn, in face of God 
 And man, to deal sincerely with their souls ; 
 
 To preach the gospel for the gospel’s sake ; 
 
 Had sworn to hate and put away all pride, 
 
 All vanity, all love of earthly pomp ; 
 
 To seek all mercy, meekness, truth, and grace; 
 
 And being so endow’d himself, and taught, 
 
 In them like works of holiness to move ; 
 
 Dividing faithfully the word of life. 
 
 And oft indeed the word of life he taught; 
 
 But practising as thou hast heard, who could 
 Believe ? Thus was religion wounded sore 
 At her own altars, and among her friends. 
 
 The people went away, and, like the priest, 
 
 Fulfilling what the prophet spoke before, 
 
 For honour strove, and wealth, and place, as if 
 The preacher had rehearsed an idle tale. 
 
 The enemies of God rejoiced, and loud 
 The unbeliever laugh’d, boasting a life 
 Of fairer character than his, who own’d, 
 
 For king and guide, the undefiled One. 
 
 Most guilty, villainous, dishonest man ! 
 
 Wolf in the clothing of the gentle lamb ! 
 
 Dark traitor in Messiah’s holy camp ! 
 
 Leper in saintly garb !—assassin mask’d 
 In Virtue’s robe ! vile hypocrite accursed ! 
 
 I strive in vain to set his evil forth. 
 
 The words that should sufficiently accurse 
 And execrate such reprobate, had need 
 Come glowing from the lips of eldest hell. 
 
 Among the saddest in the den of woe, 
 
 Thou saw’st him saddest, ’mong the damn’d, most 
 damn’d. — Pollok. 
 
 2483. MIRACLE : at Nain. 
 
 They came on, 
 
 Bearing a body heavily on its bier, 
 
 And by the crowd that in the burning sun 
 Walk’d with forgetful sadness, ’twas one 
 Mourn’d with uncommon sorrow. The broad gate 
 Swung on its hinges, and the Roman bent 
 His spear-point downwards as the bearers pass’d, 
 Bending beneath their burden. There was one — 
 Only one mourner. Close behind the bier, 
 Crumpling the pall up in her wither'd hands, 
 Follow’d an aged woman. Her short steps 
 Falter’d with weakness, and a broken moan 
 Fell from her lips, thicken’d convulsively 
 
MIRACLE 
 
 481 
 
 MISER 
 
 As her heart bled afresh. The pitying crowd 
 Follow’d apart, but no one spoke to her. 
 
 She had no kinsmen. She had lived alone 
 A widow with one son. He was her all— 
 
 The only tie she had in the wide world, 
 
 And he was dead. They could not comfort her. 
 Forth from the city-gate the pitying crowd 
 Follow’d the stricken mourner. They came near 
 The place of burial, and, with straining hands, 
 
 Closer upon her breast she clasp’d the pall, 
 
 And with a gasping sob, quick as a child s, 
 
 And an inquiring wildness flashing through 
 The thin grey lashes of her fever d eyes, 
 
 She came where Jesus stood beside the way. 
 
 He look’d upon her, and His heart was moved. 
 
 ‘ Weep not! ’ He said ; and as they stay’d the bier, 
 And at His bidding laid it at His feet, 
 
 He gently drew the pall from out her grasp 
 And laid it back in silence from the dead. 
 
 With troubled wonder the mute throng drew neai, 
 And gazed on His calm looks. A minute s space 
 He stood and pray’d. Then, taking the cold hand, 
 He said, ‘ Arise ! ’ And instantly the bieast 
 Heaved in its cerements, and a sudden flush 
 Ran through the lines of the divided lips, 
 
 And with a murmur of his mother s name, 
 
 He trembled and sat upright in his shroud. 
 
 And, while the mourner hung upon his neck, 
 
 Jesus went calmly on His way to Nairn— Willis. 
 
 2484. MIRACLE: of Nature. 
 
 My heart is awed within me when I think 
 Of the great miracle that still goes on, 
 
 In silence, round me,—the perpetual work 
 Of Thy creation, finish’d, yet renew’d 
 For ever. Written on Thy works I read 
 The lesson of Thy own eternity. 
 
 Lo ! all grow old and die ; but see again, 
 
 How on the faltering footsteps of decay 
 Youth presses,—ever gay and beautiful youth 
 In all its beautiful forms. These lofty trees 
 Wave not less proudly than their ancestors 
 Moulder beneath them. Oh, there is not lost 
 One of Earth’s charms ! upon her bosom yet, 
 
 After the flight of untold centuries, 
 
 The freshness of her far beginning lies, 
 
 And yet shall lie. Life mocks the idle hate 
 Of his arch-enemy Death,—yea, seats himself 
 Upon the tyrant’s throne, the sepulchre, 
 
 And of the triumphs of his ghastly foe 
 
 Makes his own nourishment. For he came forth 
 
 From Thine own bosom, and shall have no end. 
 
 Bryant. 
 
 2485. MIRACLES. Attestation of 
 
 When God came down from heaven, the Living 
 God, 
 
 What signs and wonders mark’d His stately way. 
 Brake out the winds in music where He trod ? 
 
 Shone o’er the heavens a brighter, softer day? 
 
 The dumb began to speak, the blind to see, 
 
 And the lame leap’d, and pain and darkness fled ; 
 The mourner’s sunken eye grew bright with glee, 
 And from the tomb awoke the wondering dead. 
 
 Milman. 
 
 2486. MIRACLES : man the great miracle. 
 
 A miracle, with miracles enclosed, 
 
 Is man ; and starts his faith at what is strange : 
 What less than wonders from the Wonderful ; 
 What less than miracles, from God can flow ? 
 Admit a God—that mystery supreme, 
 
 That Cause uncaused, all other wonders cease. 
 
 Young. 
 
 What is thy thought? There is no miracle? 
 There is a great one, which thou hast not read, 
 And never shalt escape. Thyself, O man, 
 
 Thou art the miracle .—Jean Ingelow. 
 
 2487. MIRTH. 
 
 Frame your mind to mirth and merriment, 
 
 Which bars a thousand harms, and lengthens life ! 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Where lives the man that has not tried 
 How mirth can into folly glide, 
 
 And folly into sin ?— Scott. 
 
 2488. MISANTHROPY : its sadness. 
 
 Most painful moods are those in which we think 
 The world is all combined to do us wrong 
 That slaves we are of some mysterious fate, 
 
 Which turns to gall the cup of life we drink, 
 
 And foes create of all we hoped were friends. 
 
 Yet sadder still to feel that we alone 
 
 Are not in fault, but that the world is wrong— 
 
 That we are victims of its ills and crimes. 
 
 Lady Chatterton. 
 
 2489. MISER. Description of the 
 
 Unnumber’d maladies man’s joints invade, 
 
 Lay siege to life, and press the dire blockade ; 
 
 But unextinguish’d avarice still remains, 
 
 And dreaded losses aggravate his pains; 
 
 He turns with anxious heart and crippled hands, 
 His bonds of debt, and mortgages of lands ; 
 
MISERY 
 
 482 
 
 MISFORTUNE 
 
 Or views his coffers with suspicious eyes, 
 
 Unlocks his gold, and counts it till he dies. 
 
 Johnson. 
 
 But there was one in folly farther gone; 
 
 With eye awry, incurable and wild, 
 
 The laughing-stock of devils and of men, 
 
 And by his guardian angel quite given up— 
 
 The miser, who with dust inanimate 
 
 Held wedded intercourse. Ill-guided wretch ! 
 
 Thou might’st have seen him at the midnight hour, 
 When good men slept, and in light-winged dreams 
 Ascended up to God—in wasteful hall, 
 
 With vigilance and fasting -worn to skin 
 And bone, and wrapt in most debasing rags— 
 
 Thou might’st have seen him bending o’er his heaps 
 And holding strange communion with his gold ; 
 
 And as his thievish fancy seem’d to hear 
 The night-man’s foot approach, starting alarm’d, 
 
 And in his old, decrepit, wither’d hand, 
 
 That palsy shook, grasping the yellow earth 
 To make it sure. Of all God made upright, 
 
 And in their nostrils breathed a living soul. 
 
 Most fallen, most prone, most earthly, most debased. 
 Of all that sold Eternity for Time 
 None bargain’d on so easy terms with death. 
 Illustrious fool ! Nay, most inhuman wretch ! 
 
 He sat among his bags, and with a look 
 Which hell might be ashamed of, drove the poor 
 Away unalms’d ; and 'midst abundance died— 
 
 Sorest of evils! died of utter want.— Pollok. 
 
 2490. MISERY. Human 
 
 How many feel, this very moment, Death, 
 
 And all the sad variety of pain. 
 
 How many sink in the devouring flood, 
 
 Or more devouring flame. How many bleed, 
 
 By shameful variance betwixt man and man. 
 
 How many pine in Want, and dungeon-glooms ; 
 
 Shut from the common air, and common use 
 Of their own limbs. How many drink the cup 
 Of baleful Grief, or eat the bitter bread 
 Of Misery. Sore pierced by wintry winds, 
 
 How many shrink into the sordid hut 
 Of cheerless Poverty. How many shake 
 With all the fiercer tortures of the Mind, 
 
 Unbounded passion, madness, guilt, remorse; 
 
 Whence tumbled headlong from the height of life, 
 They furnish matter for the tragic muse. 
 
 Even in the vale, where Wisdom loves to dwell, 
 
 "With Friendship, Peace, and Contemplation join’d, 
 How many, rack’d with honest passions, droop 
 In deep retired distress. How many stand 
 Around the death-bed of their dearest Friends, 
 
 And point the parting anguish. Thought fond man ! 
 
 Of these, and all the thousand nameless ills 
 That one incessant struggle render life 
 One scene of toil, of suffering, and of fate, 
 
 Vice in his high career would stand appall’d, 
 
 And heedless, rambling Impulse learn to think ; 
 The conscious heart of Charity would warm. 
 
 And her wide wish Benevolence dilate ; 
 
 The social tear would rise, the social sigh ; 
 
 And into clear perfection, gradual bliss, 
 
 Refining still, the social passions work.— Thomson. 
 
 2491. MISERY. Melody of 
 
 O hearts that break and give no sign 
 Save whitening lip and fading tresses, 
 
 Till Death pours out his cordial wine 
 
 Slow-dropp’d from misery’s crushing presses : 
 
 If singing breath or echoing chord 
 To every hidden pain were given, 
 
 What endless melodies were pour’d, 
 
 As sad as earth, as sweet as heaven ! 
 
 0 . PV. Holmes. 
 
 2492. MISFORTUNE. 
 
 Misfortune does not always wait on vice ; 
 Nor is success the constant guest of virtue. 
 
 Havard. 
 
 O mortals, short of sight, who think the past 
 O’erblown misfortunes shall still prove the last ! 
 Alas ! misfortunes travel in a train, 
 
 And oft in life form one perpetual chain ; 
 
 Fear buries fear, and ills on ills attend, 
 
 Till life and sorrow meet one common end. 
 
 Young. 
 
 2493. MISFORTUNE. Friends in 
 
 Every one that flatters thee 
 Is no friend in misery. 
 
 W T ords are easy, like the wind ; 
 
 Faithful friends are hard to find. 
 
 Every man will be thy friend 
 W hilst thou hast wherewith to spend ; 
 
 But, if store of crowns be scant, 
 
 No man will supply thy want. 
 
 If that one be prodigal, 
 
 Bountiful they will him call, 
 
 And with such like flattering, 
 
 ‘ Pity but he were a king.’ 
 
 If he be addict to vice, 
 
 Quickly him they will entice ; 
 
 But, if fortune once do frown, 
 
 Then—farewell his great renown ; 
 
 They that fawn’d on him-before 
 Ese his company no more. 
 
 He that is thy friend indeed, 
 
 He will help thee in thy need : 
 
MISSION 
 
 483 
 
 MISSIONS 
 
 If thou sorrow, he will weep ; 
 
 If thou wake, he cannot sleep ; 
 
 Thus, of every grief, in heart, 
 
 He with thee doth bear a part : 
 
 These are certain signs to know 
 
 Faithful friend from flattering foe.— Barnfield. 
 
 2494. MISSION. Your 
 
 If you cannot on the ocean 
 Sail among the swiftest fleet, 
 
 Rocking on the highest billows, 
 
 Laughing at the storms you meet; 
 
 You can stand among the sailors, 
 
 Anchor’d yet within the bay ; 
 
 You can lend a hand to help them, 
 
 As they launch their boat away. 
 
 If you are too weak to journey 
 Up the mountain, steep and high, 
 
 You can stand within the valley, 
 
 While the multitudes go by ; 
 
 You can chant in happy measure, 
 
 As they slowly pass along; 
 
 Though they may forget the singer, 
 
 They will not forget the song. 
 
 If you have not gold and silver 
 Ever ready to command ; 
 
 If you cannot t’ward the needy 
 Reach an ever-open hand ; 
 
 You can visit the afflicted, 
 
 O’er the erring you can weep ; 
 
 You can be a true disciple 
 Sitting at the Saviour’s feet. 
 
 If you cannot in the harvest 
 Garner up the richest sheaves, 
 
 Many a grain both ripe and golden 
 Will the careless reapers leave ; 
 
 Go and glean among the briers 
 Growing rank against the wall, 
 
 For it may be that their shadow 
 Hides the heaviest wheat of all. 
 
 If you cannot in the conflict 
 Prove yourself a soldier true— 
 
 If, where fire and smoke are thickest, 
 
 There’s no work for you to do ; 
 
 When the battle-field is silent 
 You can go with careful tread, 
 
 You can bear away the wounded, 
 
 You can cover up the dead. 
 
 If you cannot be the watchman, 
 
 Standing high on Zion’s wall, 
 
 Pointing out the path to heaven, 
 
 Offering life and peace to all; 
 
 With your prayers and with your bounties 
 You can do what Heaven demands, 
 
 You can be like faithful Aaron, 
 
 Holding up the prophet’s hands. 
 
 Do not, then, stand idly waiting 
 For some greater work to do; 
 
 Fortune is a lazy goddess— 
 
 She will never come to you. 
 
 Go and toil in any vineyard, 
 
 Do not fear to do or dare ; 
 
 If you want a field of labour, 
 
 You can find it anywhere.— Ellen II Gates. 
 
 2495. MISSIONARIES. 
 
 Blessings be on their pathway, and increase ! 
 
 These are the moral conquerors, and belong 
 To them the palm-branch and triumphal song— 
 Conquerors—and yet the harbingers of peace ! 
 
 Miss Landoti. 
 
 Great Britain has her sons, both frank and brave, 
 Who noble triumphs win, but wear no glave ! 
 
 Sons who in heart are firm, in toil are free. 
 
 To spread her glorious name from sea to sea ! 
 
 Men, who have push’d their conquests wide and far, 
 And changed to pruning-hooks the shafts of war; 
 Who bear no glittering arms, no banners wave— 
 Who strike no blow—are stricken but to save ! 
 
 Yet still they conquer ! and where they appear, 
 
 The painted savage breaks his poison’d spear ; 
 
 A bloodless triumph follows in their train— 
 
 For those they vanquish feel no victor’s chain ! 
 
 1 They conquer !—nor like other conquerors boast 
 A prostrate people and a plunder’d coast— 
 
 Nor pant to hear a nation’s deafening peals, 
 
 With captive warriors at their chariot-wheels— 
 
 Nor hang, like relics, in our holiest fane, 
 
 The flags that blush with war’s unhallow’d stain.— 
 No, theirs are triumphs war can never bring ! 
 
 Theirs are the paeans guardian seraphs sing ! 
 
 Their noblest banner is the Book of Truth ! 
 
 Their trophies—age, and infancy, and youth ! 
 
 ’Tis theirs to free—exalt—and not debase— 
 
 The painted brothers of our common race ! 
 
 Nor stripe—nor tribute—nor oppressive sway 
 Degrade their labours, or obstruct their way! 
 
 Their watchword still—Let war and sorrow cease! 
 Their noblest epithet—The men of peace !— Beattie. 
 
 2496. MISSIONS. Demand for 
 
 Where is your heathen brother? From his grave 
 Near thy own gates, or ’neath a foreign sky, 
 
 From the throng’d depths of ocean’s mourning wave, 
 His answering blood reproachfully doth cry. 
 
MOB 
 
 484 
 
 MORNING PRAYERS 
 
 Blood of the soul! can all earth’s fountains make 
 Thy dark stain disappear ? Stewards of God, awake. 
 
 Mrs Sigourney. 
 
 2497. MOB. The 
 
 The scum 
 
 That rises upmost, when the nation boils. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 The multitude unawed is insolent; 
 
 Once seized with fear, contemptible and vain. 
 
 Mallet. 
 
 Ah ! can you bear contempt ? the venom’d tongue 
 Of those whom ruin pleases ? the keen sneer, 
 
 The rude reproaches of the rascal herd ; 
 
 Who for the self-same actions, if successful, 
 
 Would be as grossly lavish in your praise ? 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 And the brute crowd, whose envious zeal 
 Huzzas each turn of Fortune’s wheel, 
 
 And loudest shouts when lowest lie 
 Exalted worth and station high. Scott. 
 
 Who o’er the herd would wish to reign, 
 Fantastic, fickle, fierce, and vain ! 
 
 Vain as the leaf upon the stream, 
 
 And fickle as a changeful dream ; 
 
 Fantastic as a woman’s mood, 
 
 And fierce as frenzy’s fever’d blood. 
 
 Thou many-headed monster-thing, 
 
 Oh who would wish to be thy king.— Scott. 
 
 What, dare the ungrateful miscreants thus return 
 The many favours of my princely grace ? 
 
 ’Tis ever thus : indulgence spoils the base ; 
 
 Raising up pride and lawless turbulence, 
 
 Like noxious vapours from the fulsome marsh, 
 When morning shines upon it .—Joanna Baillie. 
 
 2498. MODESTY. 
 
 True modesty is a discerning grace, 
 
 And only blushes in the proper place ; 
 
 But counterfeit is blind, and skulks, through fear, 
 Where ’tis a shame to be ashamed t’ appear: 
 Humility the parent of the first, 
 
 The last by vanity produced and nursed.— Cowper. 
 
 I pity bashful men, who feel the pain 
 Of fancied scorn and undeserved disdain, 
 
 And bear the marks upon a blushing face 
 Of needless shame, and self-imposed disgrace. 
 
 Our sensibilities are so acute, 
 
 The fear of being silent makes us mute.— Cowper. 
 
 As through the hedgerow’s 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. 
 
 On their own merits modest men are dumb. 
 
 Colman. 
 
 2499. MORNING. Duties of 
 
 When first thy eyes unveil, give thy soul leave 
 To do the like ; our bodies but forerun 
 The spirit’s duty ; true hearts spread and heave 
 Unto their God, as flowers do to the sun: 
 
 Give Him thy first thoughts then, so shalt thou keep 
 Him company all day, and in Him sleep. 
 
 Yet never sleep the sun up ; prayer should 
 Dawn with the day : there are set awful hours 
 ’Twixt heaven and us : the manna was not good 
 After sun-rising, for day sullies flowers.— Vaughan. 
 
 2500. MORNING PRAYER. 
 
 I cannot ope my eyes, 
 
 But Thou art ready there to catch 
 My morning-soul and sacrifice : 
 
 Then we must needs for that day make a match. 
 
 My God ! what is a heart ? 
 
 Silver, or gold, or precious stone, 
 
 Or star, or rainbow, or a part 
 Of all these things, or all of them in one ? 
 
 My God ! what is a heart, 
 
 That Thou shouldst it so eye, and woo, 
 Pouring upon it all Thy art. 
 
 As if that Thou hadst nothing else to do ? 
 
 Indeed, man’s whole estate 
 Amounts, and richly, to serve Thee ; 
 
 He did not heaven and earth create, 
 
 Yet studies them, not Him by whom they be. 
 
 Teach me Thy love to know, 
 
 That this new light, which now I see, 
 
 May both the work and workman show: 
 Then by a sunbeam I will climb to Thee ! 
 
 Herbert. 
 
 2501. MORNING PRAYERS. 
 
 Lord God of morning and of night, 
 
 We thank Thee for Thy gift of light: 
 
 As in the dawn the shadows fly, 
 
 We seem to find Thee now more nigh. 
 
 Fresh hopes have waken’d in the heart, 
 
 Fresh force to do our daily part; 
 
 Thy thousand sleeps our strength restore, 
 
 A thousand-fold to serve Thee more. 
 
 Yet whilst Thy will we would pursue, 
 
 Oft what we would we cannot do ; 
 
 The sun may stand in zenith skies, 
 
 But on the soul thick midnight lies. 
 
MORNING PSALM 485 MORTALITY 
 
 O Lord of lights : ’tis Thou alone 
 
 Canst make our darken’d hearts Thine own: 
 
 Though this new day with joy we see, 
 
 Great Dawn of God, we cry for Thee ! 
 
 Palgrave. 
 
 Now that the sun is gleaming bright, 
 Implore we, bending low, 
 
 That He, the uncreated Light, 
 
 May guide us as we go. 
 
 No sinful word, or deed of wrong. 
 
 Nor thoughts that idly rove, 
 
 But simple truth be on our tongue, 
 
 And in our hearts be love. 
 
 And while the hours in order flow, 
 
 O Christ! securely fence 
 Our gates beleaguer’d by the foe— 
 
 The gate of every sense. 
 
 And grant that to Thine honour, Lord, 
 
 Our daily toil may tend ; 
 
 That we begin it at Thy word, 
 
 And in Thy favour end ! 
 
 Tr. from the Parisian Breviary by Newman. 
 
 2502. MORNING PSALM. 
 
 As a bird in meadows fair 
 Or in lonely forest sings, 
 
 Till it fills the summer air 
 
 And the greenwood sweetly rings, 
 
 So my heart to Thee would i-aise, 
 
 O my God, its song of praise, 
 
 That the gloom of night is o’er, 
 
 And I see the sun once more ! 
 
 If Thou, Sun of Love, arise, 
 
 All my heart with joy is stirr’d, 
 
 And, to greet Thee, upward flies, 
 
 Gladsome as yon tiny bird. 
 
 Shine Thou in me clear and bright 
 Till I learn to praise Thee right; 
 
 Guide me in the narrow way, 
 
 Let me ne’er in darkness stray. 
 
 Bless to-day whate’er I do ; 
 
 Bless whate’er I have and love ; 
 
 From the paths of virtue true 
 Let me never, never rove. 
 
 By Thy Spirit strengthen me 
 In the faith that leads to Thee ; 
 
 Then, an heir of life on high, 
 
 Fearless I may live and die. 
 
 -I 
 
 2503. MORTALITY. Thoughts on 
 
 To him who, in the love of Nature, holds 
 Communion with her visible forms, she speaks 
 
 A various language : for his gayer hours 
 
 She has a voice of gladness, and a smile 
 
 And eloquence of beauty, and she glides 
 
 Into his darker musings, with a mild 
 
 And gentle sympathy, that steals away 
 
 Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts 
 
 Of the last bitter hour come like a blight 
 
 Over thy spirit, and sad images 
 
 Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall, 
 
 And breathless darkness, and the narrow house, 
 Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart, 
 
 Go forth under the open sky, and list 
 To Nature’s teachings, while from all around, 
 
 Earth and her waters, and the depths of air, 
 
 Comes a still voice, Yet a few days, and thee 
 The all-beholding sun shall see no more 
 In all his course ; nor yet in the cold ground. 
 
 Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears, 
 
 Nor in the embrace of ocean shall exist 
 
 Thy image. Earth, that nourish’d thee, shall claim 
 
 Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again ; 
 
 And lost each human trace, surrendering up 
 Thine individual being, shalt thou go 
 To mix for ever with the elements, 
 
 To be a brother to the insensible rock 
 
 And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain 
 
 Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak 
 
 Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mould. 
 
 Yet not to thy eternal resting-place 
 
 Shalt thou retire alone—nor couldst thou wish 
 
 Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down 
 
 With patriarchs of the infant world ; with kings, 
 
 The powerful of the earth ; the wise, the good, 
 
 Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past, 
 
 All in one mighty sepulchre. The hills 
 Rock-ribb’d and ancient as the sun ; the vales 
 Stretching in pensive quietness between ; 
 
 The venerable woods ; rivers that move 
 In majesty, and the complaining brooks 
 That make the meadows green ; and, pour’d round 
 all, 
 
 Old ocean^ grey and melancholy waste, 
 
 Are but the solemn decorations all 
 
 Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun," 1 
 
 The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, 
 
 Are shining on the sad abodes of death, 
 
 Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread 
 The globe are but a handful to the tribes 
 That slumber in its bosom. Take the wings 
 Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce. 
 
 Or lose thyself in the continuous woods 
 Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, 
 
 Save his own dashings ; yet the dead are there, 
 
 And millions in those solitudes, since first 
 The flight of years began, have laid them down 
 
MOSES 
 
 486 
 
 MOSES 
 
 In their last sleep—the dead reign there alone. 
 
 So shalt thou rest; and what if thou shalt fall 
 Unnoticed by the living, and no friend 
 Take note of thy departure? All that breathe 
 Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh 
 When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care 
 Plod on, and each one, as before, will chase 
 His favourite phantom ; yet all these shall leave 
 Their mirth and their employments, and shall come 
 And make their bed with thee. As the long train 
 Of ages glides away, the sons of men, 
 
 The youth in life’s green spring, and he who goes 
 In the full strength of years, matron and maid, 
 
 The bow’d with age, the infant in the smiles 
 And beauty of its innocent age cut off, 
 
 Shall, one by one, be gather’d to thy side, 
 
 By those who in their turn shall follow them. 
 
 So live, that when thy summons comes to join 
 The innumerable caravan that moves 
 To the pale realms of shade, where each shall take 
 His chamber in the silent halls of death, 
 
 Thou go not like the quarry-slave at night, 
 
 Scourged to his dungeon ; but, sustain’d and soothed 
 By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, 
 
 Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch 
 About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams. 
 
 Bryant. 
 
 2504. MOSES. Burial of 
 
 By Nebo’s lonely mountain, 
 
 On this side Jordan’s wave, 
 
 In a vale of the land of Moab, 
 
 There lies a lonely grave. 
 
 But no man dug that sepulchre, 
 
 And no man saw it e’er ; 
 
 For the angels of God upturn’d the sod, 
 
 And laid the dead man there. 
 
 That was the grandest funeral 
 That ever pass’d on earth ; 
 
 But no man heard the trampling, 
 
 Or saw the train go forth. 
 
 Noiselessly as the daylight 
 
 Comes, when the night is done, 
 
 Or the crimson streak on ocean's cheek 
 Fades in the setting sun ; 
 
 Noiselessly as the spring-time 
 Her crest of verdure waves, 
 
 And all the trees on all the hills 
 Open their thousand leaves ; 
 
 So without sound of music, 
 
 Or voice of them that wept, 
 
 Silently down from the mountain’s crown 
 That grand procession swept. 
 
 Perchance some bold old eagle 
 On grey Beth-peor’s height, 
 
 Out of his rocky eyrie, vi 
 
 Look'd on the wondrous sight; 
 
 Perchance some lion, stalking, 
 
 Still shuns the hallow’d spot; 
 
 For beast and bird have seen and heard 
 That which man knoweth not. 
 
 But when the warrior dieth, 
 
 His comrades in the war, 
 
 With arms reversed and muffled drums 
 Follow the funeral car ; 
 
 They show the banners taken, 
 
 They tell his battles won, 
 
 And after him lead his matchless steed, 
 
 While peals the minute gun. 
 
 Amid the noblest of the land 
 They lay the sage to rest; 
 
 And give the bard an honour’d place, 
 
 With costly marble drest, 
 
 In the great minster’s transept height, 
 
 Where lights like glory fall, 
 
 While the sweet choir sings, and the organ ? 
 rings 
 
 Along the emblazon’d wall. 
 
 This was the bravest warrior 
 That ever buckled sword ; 
 
 This the most gifted poet, 
 
 That ever breathed a word ; 
 
 And never earth’s philosopher 
 Traced with his golden pen, 
 
 On the deathless page, words half so sage, 
 
 As he wrote down for men. 
 
 • 
 
 And had he not high honour ? 
 
 The hill-side for his pall, 
 
 To lie in state while angels wait, 
 
 With stars for tapers tall; 
 
 The dark rock-pines like tossing plumes 
 Over his bier to wave, 
 
 And God’s own hand in that lonely land 
 To lay him in the grave,— 
 
 In that deep grave without a name, 
 
 Whence his uncofffn’d clay 
 Shall break again,—most wondrous thought ! 
 
 Before the Judgment Day ; 
 
 And stand, with glory wrapt around, 
 
 On the hills he never trod, 
 
 And speak of the strife that won our life 
 Through Christ the Incarnate God. 
 
 O silent tomb in Moab’s land, 
 
 O dark Beth-peor’s hill, 
 
MO THER 
 
 487 
 
 MOTHER 
 
 Speak to these curious hearts of ours, 
 
 And teach them to be still ! 
 
 God hath His mysteries of grace, 
 
 Words that we cannot tell; 
 
 He hides them deep, like the sacred sleep 
 Of him He loved so well.— Mrs Alexander. 
 
 God made his grave, to men unknown, 
 
 Where Moab’s rocks a vale infold ; 
 
 And laid the aged seer alone, 
 
 To slumber while the world grows old. 
 
 Thus still, where’er the good and just 
 Close the dim eye on life and pain, 
 
 Heaven watches o’er their sleeping dust, 
 
 Till the pure spirit comes again.— Bryant. 
 
 2505. MOTHER : a mother’s epitaph. 
 
 In an old church-yard stood a stone, 
 
 All weather-mark’d and stain’d, 
 
 The hand of time had crumbled it, 
 
 And only part remain’d. 
 
 Upon one side I could just trace 
 IN MEMORY OF OUR MOTHER ; 
 
 An epitaph that spoke of HOME 
 Was chisel’d on the other. 
 
 I’d gazed on monuments of fame, 
 
 High towering to the skies ; 
 
 I’d seen the sculptured marble tower 
 Where a great hero lies ; 
 
 But by this epitaph I paused, 
 
 And read it o’er and o’er, 
 
 For I had never seen inscribed 
 Such words as these before. 
 
 ‘She always made home happy,’ 
 
 What noble record this ! 
 
 A legacy of memory sweet 
 To those she loved and left: 
 
 And what a testimony given 
 By those who knew her best, 
 
 Engraven on this plain, rude stone, 
 
 That mark’d their mother’s rest. 
 
 A noble life ! but written not 
 In any book of fame ; 
 
 Among the list of noted ones 
 None ever saw her name ; 
 
 For only her own household knew 
 The victories she had won ; 
 
 And none but they could testify 
 How well her work was done. 
 
 2506. MOTHER : a mother’s love. 
 
 Her pious love excell’d to all she bore; 
 
 New objects only multiplied it more : 
 
 And as the chosen found the pearly grain 
 As much as every vessel could contain : 
 
 As in the blissful vision, each shall share 
 As much of glory as his soul can bear, 
 
 So did she love, and so dispense her care. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 Maternal love ! thou word that sums all bliss, 
 Gives and receives all bliss,—fullest when most 
 Thou givest! spring-head of all felicity, 
 
 Deepest when most is drawn ! emblem of God ! 
 O’erflowing most when greatest numbers drink ! 
 
 Pollok. 
 
 A mother’s love—how sweet the name! 
 
 What is a mother’s love ? 
 
 A noble, pure, and tender flame, 
 
 Enkindled from above, 
 
 To bless a heart of earthly mould ; 
 
 The warmest love that can grow cold,— 
 
 This is a mother’s love.— James Montgomery. 
 
 A mother’s love 
 
 Is an undying feeling. Earth may chill 
 And sever other sympathies, and prove 
 
 How weak all human bonds are ; it may kill 
 Friendships, and crush hearts with them—but the 
 thrill 
 
 Of the maternal breast must ever move 
 
 In blest communion with her child, and fill 
 Even heaven itself with prayers and hymns of love. 
 
 Patterson. 
 
 The mother’s love—there’s none so pure, 
 
 So constant, and so kind ; 
 
 No human passion doth endure 
 
 Like this within the mind.— Mrs Hale. 
 
 2507. MOTHER : a mother’s teachings. 
 
 Nay, mother, 
 
 Where is your ancient courage ? You were used 
 To say, extremity was the trier of spirits ; 
 
 That common chances common men could bear ; 
 That when the sea was calm, all boats alike 
 Show’d mastership in floating ; Fortune’s blows, 
 When most struck home, being gentle wounded, 
 crave 
 
 A noble calmness. You were used to load me 
 With precepts that would make invincible 
 The heart that conn’d them.— Shakespeare. 
 
 \ 
 
 2508. MOTHER : importance of her charge. 
 
 And say to mothers what a holy charge 
 Is theirs—with what a kingly power their love 
 Might rule the fountains of the new-born mind ; 
 
MOTHER 
 
 488 
 
 MOTIVES 
 
 Warn them to wake at early dawn, and sow 
 Good seed before the world has sown its tares. 
 
 Mrs Sigourney. 
 
 2509. MOTHER. Influence of a 
 
 Children are what the mothers are. 
 
 No fondest father’s fondest care 
 Can fashion so the infant’s heart 
 As those creative beams that dart, 
 
 With all their hopes and fears, upon 
 The cradle of a sleeping son. 
 
 His startled eyes with wonder see 
 A father near him on his knee, 
 
 Who wishes all the while to trace 
 The mother in his future face ; 
 
 But ’tis to her alone uprise 
 
 His wakening arms ; to her those eyes 
 
 Open with joy and not surprise.— Landor. 
 
 Happy he 
 
 With such a mother ! faith in womankind 
 Beats with his blood, and trust in all things high 
 Comes easy to him, and though he trip and fall, 
 
 He shall not blind his soul with clay.— Tennyson. 
 
 I’ve pored o’er many a yellow page 
 Of ancient wisdom, and have won, 
 
 Perchance, a scholar’s name—but sage 
 Or bard have never taught thy son 
 Lessons so dear, so fraught with holy truth, 
 
 As those his mother’s faith shed on his youth. 
 
 George IV. Bethune. 
 
 2510. MOTHER. Office of a 
 
 The mother in her office holds the key 
 Of the soul ; and she it is who stamps the coin 
 Of character, and makes the being, who would be a 
 savage 
 
 But for her gentle cares, a Christian man. 
 
 2511. MOTIVES : difficulty of determining their 
 
 true character. 
 
 That each from other differs, first confess ; 
 
 Next, that he varies from himself no less; 
 
 Add nature’s, custom’s, reason’s, passion’s, strife, 
 And all opinion’s colours cast on life. 
 
 Our depths who fathoms, or our shallows finds, 
 Quick whirls and shifting eddies of our minds ? 
 
 On human actions reason though you can, 
 
 It may be reason, but it is not man : 
 
 Plis principle of action once explore, 
 
 That instant ’tis his principle no more. 
 
 Like following life through creatures you dissect, 
 
 You lose it in the moment you detect. 
 
 Yet more : the difference is as great between 
 The optics seeing as the objects seen. 
 
 All manners take a tincture from our own, 
 
 Or come discolour’d through our passions shown; 
 
 Or fancy’s beam enlarges, multiplies, 
 
 Contracts, inverts, and gives ten thousand dyes. 
 
 Nor will life’s stream for observation stay, 
 
 It hurries all too fast to mark their way : 
 
 I In vain sedate reflections we would make, 
 
 ! When half our knowledge we must snatch, not take. 
 Oft in the passion’s wide rotation tost, 
 
 Our spring of action to ourselves is lost: 
 
 Tired, not determined, to the last we yield, 
 
 And what comes then is master of the field. —Pope. 
 
 In vain, the sage, with retrospective eye, 
 
 Would from the apparent What conclude the V hy, 
 Infer the motive from the deed, and show 
 That what we chanced was what we meant to do. 
 Behold ! if fortune or a mistress frowns, 
 
 Some plunge in business, others shave their crowns : 
 To ease the soul of one oppressive weight, 
 
 This quits an empire, that embroils a state. 
 
 The same adust complexion has imped'd 
 Charles to the convent, Philip to the held. 
 
 Not always actions show the man : we find 
 Who does a kindness is not therefore kind ; 
 
 Perhaps prosperity becalm’d his breast; 
 
 Perhaps the wind just shifted from the east : 
 
 Not therefore humble he who seeks retreat; 
 
 Pride guides his steps, and bids him shun the great: 
 Who combats bravely is not therefore brave; 
 
 He dreads a death-bed like the meanest slave : 
 
 Who reasons wisely is not therefore wise ; 
 
 His pride in reasoning, not in acting, lies. 
 
 But grant that actions best discover man; 
 
 Take the most strong, and sort them as you can : 
 The few that glare each character must mark ; 
 
 You balance not the many in the dark. 
 
 What will you do with such as disagree ? 
 
 Suppress them, or miscall them policy ? 
 
 Must then at once (the character to save) 
 
 The plain rough hero turn a crafty knave ? 
 
 Alas ! in truth the man but changed his mind ; 
 Perhaps was sick, in love, or had not dined. 
 
 Ask why from Britain Caesar would retreat ? 
 
 Caesar himself might whisper he was beat. 
 
 Why risk the world’s great empire for a punk ? 
 Caesar perhaps might answer, he was drunk. Pope. 
 
 Ye safe and formal men, 
 Who write the deeds, and with unfeverish hand 
 Weigh in nice scales the motives of the great, 
 
 Ye cannot know what ye have never tried. 
 
 Bulwer. 
 
MOUNTAIN SCENERY 
 
 489 
 
 MOURNING 
 
 2512. MOUNTAIN SCENERY. 
 
 Above me are the Alps, 
 
 The palaces of nature, whose vast walls 
 Have pinnacled in clouds their snowy scalps, 
 
 And throned eternity in icy halls 
 Of cold sublimity, where forms and falls 
 The avalanche—the thunderbolt of snow. 
 
 All that expands the spirit, yet appals, 
 
 Gather around these summits, or to show 
 How earth may pierce to heaven, yet leave vain man 
 below. — Byron. 
 
 Who first beholds those everlasting clouds, 
 
 Seed-time and harvest, morning, noon, and night, 
 Still where they were, steadfast, immovable ; 
 
 Who first beholds the Alps—that mighty chain 
 Of mountains, stretching on from east to west, 
 
 So massive, yet so shadowy, so ethereal, 
 
 As to belong rather to heaven than earth— 
 
 But instantly receives into his soul 
 A sense, a feeling that he loses not, 
 
 A something that informs him ’tis a moment 
 Whence he may date henceforward and for ever? 
 
 Rogers. 
 
 There is a living grandeur ’mid the hills, 
 
 Changing for ever with the day and hour, 
 
 Glowing in sunrise, flaunting in the mists, 
 
 Bright in the garbless lustre of the day, 
 
 Warm, gay, and golden in the western noon, 
 
 Soft, blue, and hazy in the peaceful eve. 
 
 It walks supreme amid the raging storm, 
 
 And seems to culminate when round the head 
 Of the bald mountains living lightnings flash ; 
 
 Nor dies it with the day, but then assumes 
 The dark, mysterious wonders of the night. 
 
 F. A. Mackay. 
 
 2513. MOURNERS. Blessed are the 
 
 Oh deem not they are blest alone 
 Whose lives a peaceful tenour keep ; 
 
 For God, who pities man, hath shown 
 A blessing for the eyes that weep. 
 
 The light of smiles shall fill again 
 The lids that overflow with tears ; 
 
 And weary hours of woe and pain 
 Are promises of happier years. 
 
 There is a day of sunny rest 
 
 For every dark and troubled night; 
 
 And grief may bide an evening guest, 
 
 But joy shall come with early light. 
 
 And thou, who o’er thy friend’s low bier 
 Sheddest the bitter drops like rain, 
 
 Hope that a brighter, happier sphere 
 Will give him to thine arms again. 
 
 Nor let the good man’s trust depart, 
 
 Though life its common gifts deny,— 
 
 Though, with a pierced and broken heart, 
 
 And spurn’d of men, he goes to die. 
 
 For God has mark’d each sorrowing day, 
 
 And number’d every secret tear ; 
 
 And heaven’s long age of bliss shall pay 
 
 For all His children suffer here. —Bryant. 
 
 2514. MOURNING. Christian 
 
 Weep for the dead ! God bids you not restrain 
 What nature claims, affection’s soothing tear. 
 
 But weep like Christian mourners ! Though the 
 bier 
 
 Bear him away to death’s obscure domain. 
 
 Yet he with you, who still on earth remain, 
 
 The summons of the Archangel’s voice shall hear ; 
 And he with you before the Lord appear, 
 
 Soar to the clouds, and meet you there again. 
 
 Weep then, but do not as the hopeless weep, 
 
 For them who rest in Christ ! A common prize 
 Awaits both them, and you, and all who keep 
 His truth, and love His coming in the skies. 
 
 They, in the Saviour who or wake or sleep, 
 
 Shall all united in the Saviour rise.— Mant. 
 
 2515. MOURNING. Heritage of 
 
 O man, while in thy early years, 
 
 How prodigal of time ! 
 
 Misspending all thy precious hours, 
 
 Thy glorious youthful prime ! 
 
 Alternate follies take the sway ; 
 
 Licentious passions burn ; 
 
 Which tenfold force gives Nature’s law, 
 
 That man was made to mourn. 
 
 Look not alone on youthful prime, 
 
 Or manhood’s active might ; 
 
 Man then is useful to his kind, 
 
 Supported in his right; 
 
 But see him on the edge of life, 
 
 With cares and sorrows worn, 
 
 Then age and want, O ill-match’d pair ! 
 
 Show man was made to mourn. 
 
 A few seem favourites of fate, 
 
 In pleasure’s lap carest ; 
 
 Yet think not all the rich and great 
 Are likewise truly blest. 
 
 But, oh, what crowds in every land 
 Are wretched and forlorn ! 
 
 Through weary life this lesson learn— 
 
 That man was made to mourn. 
 
 Many and sharp the numerous ills 
 Inwoven with our frame, 
 
MOURNING 
 
 49 ° 
 
 MURMURING 
 
 More pointed still we make ourselves, 
 
 Regret, remorse, and shame ! 
 
 And man, whose heaven-erected face 
 The smiles of love adorn, 
 
 Man’s inhumanity to man 
 
 Makes countless thousands mourn 1 . 
 
 Yet let not this too much, my son, 
 
 Disturb thy youthful breast : 
 
 This partial view of humankind 
 Is surely not the last! 
 
 The poor, oppressed, honest man 
 Had never, sure, been born, 
 
 Had there not been some recompense 
 To comfort those that mourn !— Burns. 
 
 2516. MOURNING: inevitable. 
 
 Away ! w r e know that tears are vain, 
 
 That death ne’er heeds nor hears distress : 
 
 Will this unteach us to complain, 
 
 Or make one mourner weep the less ?— Byron. 
 
 2517. MOURNING: needless. 
 
 We must all die ! 
 
 All leave ourselves, it matters not where, when, 
 
 Nor how, so we die well : and can that man that 
 does so 
 
 Need lamentation for him? Children weep, 
 
 Because they have offended, or for fear ; 
 
 Women, for want of will and anger : is there 
 In noble man, that truly feels both poises 
 Of life and death, so much of this set weakness, 
 
 To drown a glorious death in child and woman ? 
 
 Beaumont and Fletcher. 
 
 2518. MOURNING. Occasion of 
 
 When those we love on earth are seen no more, 
 We mourn to think that they are gone before ; 
 But if a pang amidst eternal rest 
 Could ever reach the bosoms of the blest, 
 
 If grief in heaven could one weak moment find, 
 Would they not mourn that we are left behind ? 
 
 Montgomery. 
 
 2519. MOURNING. True 
 
 He mourns the dead who live as they desire. 
 
 Young. 
 
 2520. MURDER. Motives of 
 
 First Envy, eldest born of hell, imbrued 
 Her hands in blood, and taught the sons of men 
 To make a death which nature never made, 
 
 And God abhorr’d ; with violence rude to break 
 The thread of life ere half its length was run ; 
 And rob a wretched brother of his being. 
 
 With joy Ambition saw, and soon improved 
 The execrable deed. ’Twas not enough 
 By subtile fraud to snatch a single life, 
 
 Puny impiety ! whole kingdoms fell 
 To sate the lust of power : more horrid still, 
 
 The foulest stain and scandal of our nature 
 Became its boast. One murder made a villain; 
 Millions, a hero. Princes were privileged 
 To kill, and numbers sanctified the crime. 
 
 Ah ! why will kings forget that they are men ? 
 And men that they are brethren ? Why delight 
 In human sacrifice? Why burst the ties 
 Of nature, that should knit their souls together 
 In one soft bond of amity and love ? 
 
 Yet still they breathe destruction, still go on 
 
 Inhumanly ingenious to find out 
 
 New pains for life, new terrors for the grave, 
 
 Artificers of death ! Still monarchs dream 
 
 Of universal empire growing up 
 
 From universal ruin. Blast the design, 
 
 Great God of hosts, nor let Thy creatures fall 
 Unpitied victims at Ambition’s shrine !— Porteous. 
 
 2521. MURDER: the greatest of crimes. 
 
 Murder itself is past all expiation, 
 
 The greatest crime that nature doth abhor. 
 
 Goffe. 
 
 Other sins only speak, murder shrieks out. 
 
 The element of water moistens the earth, 
 
 But blood flies upwards and bedews the heavens. 
 
 Webster. 
 
 2522. MURDERER. Imagination of the 
 
 From that day forth no place to him could be 
 So lonely, but that thence might come a pang 
 Brought from without to inward misery. 
 
 Now, as he plodded on, with sullen clang, 
 
 A sound of chains aloud the desert rang ; 
 
 He look’d, and saw upon a gibbet high 
 A human body that in irons swang, 
 
 Uplifted by the tempest whirling by ; 
 
 And, hovering, round it often did a raven fly. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 The murderer has no past, 
 
 But one eternal present. — Talfourd. 
 
 2523. MURMURING. Proneness to 
 
 The wounded heart is prone to entertain 
 Presumptuous thoughts, and feelings which arraign 
 The appointed course of things ; but what are we, 
 Short-sighted creatures of an hour, 
 
 That we should judge? In part alone we see, 
 
 And this but dimly. He who ordereth all, 
 
MURMURING 
 
 Beholdeth all, at once, and to the end: 
 
 Upon His wisdom and His power, 
 
 His mercy and His boundless love, we rest ; 
 
 And resting thus in humble faith, we know, 
 Whether the present be for weal or woe, 
 
 For us whatever is must needs be best.— Southey. 
 
 2524. MURMURING: rebuked. 
 
 But why, alas ! do mortal men complain ? 
 
 God gives us what He knows our wants require, 
 And better things than those which we desire ! 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 A pilgrim, bound to Mecca, quite away his sandals 
 wore, 
 
 And on the desert’s blistering sand his feet grew very 
 sore. 
 
 * To let me suffer thus great Allah is not kind nor 
 just, 
 
 While in his service I confront the painful heat and 
 dust,’ 
 
 He murmur’d in complaining tone ; and in this tem¬ 
 per came 
 
 To where, around the Caaba, pilgrims knelt of every 
 name: 
 
 And there he saw, while pity and remorse his bosom 
 beat, 
 
 A pilgrim who not only wanted shoes, but feet. 
 
 Oriental, tr. by W. R. Alger. 
 
 2525. MUSIC: a gift of God. 
 
 ’Tis He that taught the lark, from earth upspringing, 
 To warble forth his matin strain ; 
 
 And the pure stream, in liquid gushes singing, 
 
 Gladly to bless the thirsty plain ; 
 
 And from the laden bee, when homeward winging 
 Its tuneful flight, doth not disdain 
 To hear the song of praise. 
 
 There’s not a voice in Nature, but is telling 
 (If we will hear that voice aright), 
 
 How much, when human hearts with love are swell¬ 
 ing, 
 
 His blessed bosom hath delight 
 In our rejoicing lays. 
 
 His love, that never slumbers, 
 
 Taught thee those tuneful numbers.— Bet kune. 
 
 2526. MUSIC. Abuse of 
 
 Listed into the cause of sin, 
 
 Why should a good be evil ? 
 
 Music, alas ! too long has been 
 Press’d to obey the devil. 
 
 Drunken, or lewd, or light, the lay 
 Flow’d to the soul’s undoing ; 
 
 MUSIC 
 
 Widen’d, and strew’d with flowers the way 
 Down to eternal ruin.— C. Wesley. 
 
 2527. MUSIC. Associations of 
 
 The solemn hymn, to ancient music set, 
 
 In many a heart response of memory met. 
 
 To me it seem’d departed Sabbaths hung 
 Upon these notes, which gave the past a tongue, 
 To speak again in voices from the dead, 
 
 And wake an echo from their silent bed. 
 
 Elizabeth Bogart. 
 
 2528. MUSIC. Consecrated 
 
 If well I know the tuneful art 
 To captivate an human heart, 
 
 The glory, Lord, be Thine ; 
 
 A servant of Thy blessed will, 
 
 I here devote my utmost skill 
 To sound the praise divine. 
 
 Thine own musician, Lord, inspire, 
 
 And let my consecrated lyre 
 Repeat the Psalmist’s part ; 
 
 His Son and Thine reveal in me, 
 
 And fill with sacred melody 
 
 The fibres of my heart.— C. Weslev. 
 
 2529. MUSIC. Effects of 
 
 E’en rage itself is cheer’d with music : 
 
 It wakes a glad remembrance of our youth, 
 
 Calls back past joys, and warms us into transport. 
 
 Rowe. 
 
 Call in sweet music. I have heard soft airs 
 Can charm our senses and expel our cares. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 Music exalts each joy, allays each grief, 
 
 Expels diseases, softens every pain, 
 
 Subdues the rage of poison and of plague. 
 
 A rmstrong. 
 
 Though cheerfulness and I have long been strangers, 
 Harmonious sounds are still delightful to me : 
 There’s sure no passion in the human soul 
 But finds its food in music.— Lillo. 
 
 How soft the music of those village bells. 
 
 Falling at intervals upon the ear 
 In cadence sweet ! now dying all away, 
 
 Now pealing loud again and louder still, 
 
 Clear and sonorous, as the gale comes on. 
 
 With easy force it opens all the cells 
 Where mem’ry slept. Wherever I have heard 
 A kindred melody, the scene recurs, 
 
 And with it all its pleasures and its pains. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
MUSIC 
 
 492 
 
 MUTA TION 
 
 2530. MUSIC. Lack of taste for 
 
 The man that hath no music in himself, 
 
 Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, 
 
 Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils ; 
 
 The motions of his spirit are dull as night, 
 
 And his affections dark as Erebus: 
 
 Let no such man be trusted.— Shakespeare. 
 
 2531. MUSIC. Love of 
 
 There is in souls a sympathy with sounds, 
 
 And as the mind is pitch’d, the ear is pleased 
 With melting airs of martial, brisk, or grave. 
 Some chord in unison with what we hear 
 Is touch’d within us, and the heart replies. 
 
 Cozvper. 
 
 2532. MUSIC. Power of 
 
 There let the pealing organ blow 
 To the full-voiced choir below, 
 
 In service high and anthems clear, 
 
 As may, with sweetness through mine ear, 
 Dissolve me into ecstasies. 
 
 And bring all heaven before mine eyes. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 What passion cannot music raise and quell ? 
 When Jubal struck the chorded shell, 
 
 Plis list’ning brethren stood around.— Dryden. 
 
 Music has charms to soothe a savage breast, 
 
 To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak. 
 
 I’ve read that things inanimate have moved, 
 And as with living souls have been inform’d 
 By magic numbers and persuasive sound. 
 
 Congreve. 
 
 There is a charm, a power, that sways the breast ; 
 Bids every passion revel or be still; 
 
 Inspires with rage, or all our cares dissolves ; 
 
 Can soothe distraction, and almost despair : 
 
 That power is music.— Armstrong. 
 
 Music the fiercest grief can charm, 
 
 And fate’s severest rage disarm ; 
 
 Music can soften pain to ease, 
 
 And make despair and madness please ; 
 
 Our joys below it can improve, 
 
 And antedate the bliss above.— Pope. 
 
 2533. MUSIC. Purpose of 
 
 Preposterous ass ! that never read so far 
 To know the cause why music was ordain’d ! 
 Was it not to refresh the mind of man, 
 
 After his studies, or his usual pain? 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Oh, surely melody from Heaven was sent 
 
 To cheer the soul, when tired with human strife, 
 To soothe the wayward heart by sorrow rent, 
 
 And soften down the rugged road of life. 
 
 H. Kirke White. 
 
 2534. MUSIC : resembles poetry. 
 
 Music resembles poetry: in each 
 
 Are nameless graces, which no methods teach, 
 
 And which a master’s hand alone can reach ! 
 
 Pope. 
 
 2535. MUTATION. Benefit of 
 
 They talk of short-lived pleasure ; be it so ; 
 
 Pain dies as quickly: stern, hard-featured Pain 
 Expires, and lets her weary prisoner go. 
 
 The fiercest agonies have shortest reign ; 
 
 And after dreams of horror comes a^ain 
 The welcome morning with its rays of peace. 
 
 Oblivion, softly wiping out the stain, 
 
 Makes the strong secret pangs of shame to cease: 
 Remorse is virtue’s root ; its fair increase 
 Are fruits of innocence and blessedness: 
 
 Thus Joy, o’erborne and bound, doth still release 
 His young limbs from the chains that round him 
 press. 
 
 Weep not that the world changes—did it keep 
 A stable, changeless state, ’twere cause indeed to 
 weep. — Bryant. 
 
 2536. MUTATION. Earthly 
 
 Earthly things 
 
 Are but the transient pageants of an hour ; 
 
 And earthly pride is like the passing flower, 
 
 That springs to fall, and blossoms but to die. 
 
 'Tis as the tower erected on a cloud, 
 
 Baseless and silly as the schoolboy’s dream. 
 
 Ages and epochs that destroy our pride, 
 
 And then record its downfall, what are they 
 But the poor creatures of man’s teeming brain? 
 
 Plath Heaven its ages ? or doth Heaven preserve 
 Its stated eras? Doth the Omnipotent 
 Hear of to-morrows or of yesterdays ? 
 
 There is to God nor future nor a past ; 
 
 Throned in His might, all times to Him are present ; 
 He hath no lapse, no past, no time to come ; 
 
 He sees before Him one eternal now. 
 
 Time moveth not ; our being ’tis that moves ; 
 
 And we, swift gliding down life’s rapid stream, 
 Dream of swift ages and revolving years, 
 
 Ordain’d to chronicle our passing days : 
 
 So the young sailor in the gallant bark, 
 
 Scudding before the wind, beholds the coast 
 Receding from his eyes, and thinks the while, 
 
 Struck with amaze, that he is motionless, 
 
 And that the land is sailing.— H. Kirke White. 
 
MYSTERY 
 
 493 
 
 NAME 
 
 2537. MYSTERY. Cause of 
 
 That things to mortals are mysterious, 
 
 Is not because the things themselves are dark, 
 
 But the perceptions through which they are view’d. 
 
 Bates. 
 
 2538. MYSTERY. Solution of 
 
 Life’s mystery—deep, restless, as the ocean — 
 
 Hath surged and wail’d for ages to and fro ; 
 
 Earth’s generations watch its ceaseless motion, 
 
 As in and out its hollow moanings flow. 
 
 Shivering and yearning by that unknown sea, 
 
 Let my soul calm itself, O Christ, in Thee. 
 
 Life’s sorrows, with inexorable power, 
 
 Sweep desolation o’er this mortal plain ; 
 
 And human loves and hopes fly as the chaff 
 Borne by the whirlwind from the ripen’d grain. 
 
 Ah ! when before that blast my hopes all flee, 
 
 Let my soul calm itself, O Christ, in Thee ! 
 
 Between the mysteries of death and life 
 
 Thou standest, loving, guiding, not explaining ; 
 We ask, and Thou art silent; yet we gaze, 
 
 And our charm’d hearts forget their drear com¬ 
 plaining. 
 
 No crushing fate, no stony destiny, 
 
 O Lamb that hast been slain, we find in Thee ! 
 
 The many waves of thought, the mighty tides, 
 
 The ground-swell that rolls up from other lands, 
 From far-off worlds, from dim, eternal shores, 
 Whose echo dashes on life’s wave-worn strands— 
 This vague, dark tumult of the inner sea 
 Grows calm, grows bright, O risen Lord, in Thee ! 
 
 . 
 
 Thy pierced hand guides the mysterious wheels ; 
 
 Thy thorn-crown’d brow now wears the crown of 
 power ; 
 
 And, when the dread enigma presseth sore, 
 
 Thy patient voice saith, ‘ Watch with Me one 
 hour.’ 
 
 As sinks the moaning river in the sea 
 In silver peace, so sinks my soul in Thee ! 
 
 Harriet Beecher Stozve. 
 
 2539. MYSTERY. Veil of 
 
 When fain to learn we lean into the dark, 
 
 And grope to feel the floor of the abyss, 
 
 Or find the secret boundary lines which mark 
 Where soul and matter kiss— 
 
 Fair world ! these puzzled souls of ours grow weak 
 With beating their bruised wings against the rim 
 That bounds their utmost flying, when they seek 
 The distant and the dim. 
 
 We pant, we strain like birds against their wires ; 
 
 Are sick to reach the vast and the beyond : 
 
 And what avails, if still to our desires 
 Those far-off gulfs respond ? 
 
 Contentment comes not therefore ; still there lies 
 An outer distance when the first is hail’d, 
 
 And still for ever yawns before our eyes 
 
 An utmost —that is veil’d.— Jean Ingelow. 
 
 2540. NAME. Ambition to immortalize our 
 
 We wish our names eternally to live. 
 
 Wild dream! which ne’er had haunted human 
 thought, 
 
 Had not our natures been eternal too. 
 
 Instinct points out an interest in hereafter, 
 
 But our blind reason sees not where it lies : 
 
 Or seeing, gives the substance for the shade.— Young. 
 
 The card-built house amused our infant age ; 
 
 The child was pleased ; but is the man more sage ? 
 
 A breath could level childhood’s tottering toy : 
 
 See manhood—effort, art, and time employ, 
 
 To build that brittle name a whisper can destroy ! 
 
 There is a Book where nought our name can spot, 
 
 If we ourselves refuse to fix the blot; 
 
 ’Tis kept by One that sets alike at nought 
 The tale with malice or with flattery fraught,— 
 
 He reads the heart, and sees the whisper in the 
 thought.— C. C. Colton. 
 
 2541. NAME. Giving a 
 
 He that is ambitious for his son, should give him 
 untried names, 
 
 For those have served other men, haply may injure 
 by their evils ; 
 
 Or otherwise may hinder by their glories ; therefore 
 set him by himself, 
 
 To win for his individual name some clear praise. 
 
 Tapper. 
 
 2542. NAME. Power of a 
 
 Brutus and Caesar : what should be in Caesar? 
 Why should that name be sounded more than yours? 
 Write them together, yours is a fair name ; 
 
 Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well ; 
 Weigh them, it is as heavy ; conjure with them, 
 Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Caesar. 
 
 Now in the names of all the gods at once, 
 
 Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed, 
 
 That he is grown so great ? 
 
 What’s in a name? That which we call a rose, 
 
 By any other name would smell as sweet. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
NAME 
 
 494 
 
 NATURE 
 
 2543- NAME. The new 
 
 Give me the sweet New Name, Lord, 
 
 That seems the best to Thee ; 
 
 The name upon a milk-white stone 
 Known but to Thee and me. 
 
 A new and precious name, dear Lord, 
 
 Gift of Thy love, a part 
 Which I may hold and treasure up. 
 
 And hide within my heart ; 
 
 By which I may remember Thee 
 And Thy undying love ; 
 
 By which I shall be known of Thee 
 
 Within Thy courts above.— Mrs E. Miller. 
 
 2544. NATIONS. Fate of 
 
 The individual culprit may sometimes 
 Unpunish’d to his after-reckoning go : 
 
 Not thus collective man ; for public crimes 
 Draw on their proper punishment below : 
 
 When nations go astray, from age to age 
 The effects remain, a fatal heritage. 
 
 Bear witness, Egypt, thy huge monuments 
 Of priestly fraud and tyranny austere ! 
 
 Bear witness thou, whose only name presents 
 All holy feelings to religion dear— 
 
 In earth’s dark circlet once the precious gem 
 Of living light—O fallen Jerusalem !— Southey. 
 
 2545. NATURE : a revelation of God. 
 
 Nature— faint emblem of Omnipotence !— 
 
 Shaped by His hand—the shadow of His light— 
 The veil in which He wraps His majesty, 
 
 And through whose mantling folds He deigns to show, 
 Of His mysterious, awful attributes 
 And dazzling splendours, all man’s feeble thought 
 Can grasp uncrush’d, or vision bear unquench’d. 
 
 Street. 
 
 2546. NATURE : and art. 
 
 This is an art 
 
 Which does mend nature, change it rather ; but 
 The art itself is nature.— Shakespeare. 
 
 # 
 
 Unerring Nature, still divinely bright, 
 
 One clear, unchanged, and universal light, 
 
 Life, force, and beauty must to all impart : 
 
 At once the source, and end, and test of art. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 2547. NATURE : changeless. 
 
 Take of some bitter tree a shoot, 
 
 In Eden’s garden plant the root; 
 
 Let waters from th’ eternal spring 
 Amidst the boughs their incense fling : 
 
 Though bathed and shower’d with honey-dew 
 Its native baseness springs to view ; 
 
 After long care and anxious skill 
 The fruit it bears is bitter still! 
 
 Place thou within the spicy nest, 
 
 Where the bright phoenix loves to rest, 
 
 A raven’s egg, and mark thou well, 
 
 When the vile bird has chipp’d his shell, 
 Though fed with grains from trees that grow 
 Where Salsebil’s pure waters flow. 
 
 Though airs from Gabriel’s wing may rise 
 To fan the cradle where he lies, 
 
 Though long their patient care endure, 
 
 He proves at last a bird impure ! 
 
 A viper nurtured in a bed 
 
 Where roses all their beauties spread, 
 
 Though nourish’d with the drops alone 
 Of waves that spring from Allah’s throne, 
 
 Is still a poisonous reptile found, 
 
 And with its venom taints the ground ! 
 
 Oriental. 
 
 2548. NATURE. Christian delight in 
 
 He looks abroad into the varied field 
 Of Nature ; and though poor, perhaps, compared 
 With those whose mansions glitter in his sight, 
 Calls the delightful scenery all his own. 
 
 His are the mountains, and the valleys his, 
 
 And the resplendent rivers ; his to enjoy 
 With a propriety that none can feel, 
 
 But who, with filial confidence inspired, 
 
 Can lift to Heaven an unpresumptuous eye, 
 
 And smiling say, ‘ My Father made them all ! ’ 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 2549. NATURE. Compensations in 
 
 Liberal, not lavish, is kind Nature’s hand ; 
 
 Nor was perfection made for man below. 
 
 Yet all her schemes with nicest art are plann’d, 
 Good counteracting ill, and gladness woe. 
 
 With gold and gems if Chilian mountains glow, 
 
 If bleak and barren Scotia’s hills arise, 
 
 There plague and poison, lust and rapine grow ; 
 Here peaceful are the vales, and pure the skies, 
 
 And freedom fires the soul, and sparkles in the eyes. 
 
 Beattie. 
 
 2550. NATURE. Discoveries in 
 
 Nature and Nature’s laws lay hid by night: 
 
 God said, ‘ Let Newton be! ’ and all was light. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 2551. NATURE. Following 
 
 First follow Nature, and your judgment frame 
 By her just standard, which is still the same. 
 
 Pope. 
 
NATURE 
 
 495 
 
 NA TURK 
 
 Who lives to nature, rarely can be poor; 
 
 Who lives to fancy, never can be rich. — Young. 
 
 Man’s rich with little, were his judgment true ; 
 Nature is frugal, and her wants are few.— Young. 
 
 2552. NATURE. God in 
 
 Nature is but a name for an effect, 
 
 Whose cause is God. He feeds the secret fire 
 By which the mighty process is maintain’d ; 
 
 Who sleeps not, is not weary ; in whose sight 
 Slow circling ages are as transient days : 
 
 Whose work is without labour ; whose designs 
 No flaw deforms, no difficulty thwarts 
 And whose beneficence no charge exhausts. 
 
 Him blind antiquity profaned, not served, 
 
 With self-taught rites, and under various names, 
 Female and Male Pomona, Pales, Pan, 
 
 And Flora, and Vertumnus ; peopling earth 
 
 With tutelary goddesses and gods 
 
 That were not ; and commending as they would 
 
 To each some province, garden, field, or grove. 
 
 But all are under one. One Spirit, His 
 
 Who wore the platted thorns with bleeding brows, 
 
 Rules universal nature. Not a flower 
 
 But shows some touch in freckle, streak, or stain, 
 
 Of His unrivall’d pencil. He inspires 
 
 Their balmy odours, and imparts their hues, 
 
 And bathes their eyes with nectar, and includes, 
 In grains as countless as the sea-side sands, 
 
 The forms with which He sprinkles all the earth. 
 
 Coivper. 
 
 A present Deity in all. 
 
 It is His presence that diffuses charms 
 Unspeakable o’er mountain, wood, and stream ; 
 To think that He who hears the heavenly choir 
 Hearkens complacent to the woodland song ; 
 
 To think that He who rolls yon solar sphere 
 Uplifts the warbling songster to the sky ; 
 
 To mark His presence in the mighty bow 
 That spans the clouds, as in the tints minute 
 Of tiniest flower ; to hear Plis awful voice 
 In thunders speak, and whisper in the gale ; 
 
 To know and feel His care for all that lives : 
 
 ’Tis this that makes the barren waste appear 
 A fruitful field, each grove a paradise. 
 
 Grahame. 
 
 2553. NATURE : impartial. 
 
 Nature is impartial, 
 
 And in her work of man, prefers not names 
 Of ancestors ; she sometimes forms a piece 
 For admiration from the basest earth 
 That holds a soul, and to a beggar’s issue 
 Gives those perfections make a beauty up ; 
 
 When purer moulds, polish’d and gloss’d with titles, 
 Honours, and wealth, bestow upon their bloods 
 Deform’d impressions, objects only fit 
 For sport or pity.— Nabb. 
 
 2554. NATURE. Influence of 
 
 ’Tis her privilege. 
 
 Through all the years of this our life, to lead 
 From joy to joy ; for she can so inform 
 The mind that is within us, so impress 
 With quietness and beauty, and so feed 
 With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, 
 Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, 
 Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all 
 The dreary intercourse of daily life, 
 
 Shall e’er prevail against us, or disturb 
 Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold 
 Is full of blessings. Therefore let the moon 
 Shine on thee in thy solitary walk ; 
 
 And let the misty mountain-winds be free 
 To blow against thee : and in after years, 
 
 When these wild ecstasies shall be matured 
 Into a sober pleasure, then thy mind 
 Shall be a mansion for all lovely forms, 
 
 Thy memory be as a dwelling-place 
 For all sweet sounds and harmonies. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 2555. NATURE : is Divine art. 
 
 Survey 
 
 Nature’s extended face, then, sceptics, say, 
 
 In this wide world of wonders can you find 
 No art?— Blackmore. 
 
 That clearer marks of masterly design, 
 
 Of wise contrivance, and of judgment, shine 
 In all the parts of nature, we assert, 
 
 Than in the brightest works of human art. 
 
 Blackmore. 
 
 All Nature is but art, unknown to thee ; 
 
 All chance, direction which thou canst not see ; 
 All discord, harmony not understood ; 
 
 All partial evil, universal good. — Pope. 
 
 2556. NATURE. Love of 
 
 Ask the swain 
 
 Who journeys homeward from a summer day’s 
 Long labour, why, forgetful of his toils 
 And due repose, he loiters to behold 
 The sunshine gleaming as through amber clouds, 
 O’er all the western sky ; full soon, I ween, 
 
 11 is rude expression and untutor’d airs, 
 
 Beyond the power of language, will unfold 
 The form of beauty smiling at his heart, 
 
 How lovely ! how commanding !— Akensule. 
 
NA JURE 
 
 496 
 
 NA TURE 
 
 By swift degrees the love of Nature works, 
 
 And warms the bosom ; till, at last sublimed 
 To rapture and enthusiastic heat, 
 
 We feel the present Deity, and taste 
 The joy of God to see a happy world. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 I love the brooks which down their channels fret, 
 Even more than when I tripp’d lightly as they; 
 The innocent brightness of a new-born day 
 Is lovely yet; 
 
 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 ; 
 
 Another race hath been, and other palms are won. 
 
 Thanks to the human heart by which we live, 
 Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears— 
 
 To me the meanest flower that blows can give 
 Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 2557. NATURE : never purposeless in her gifts. 
 
 Spirits are not finely touch’d 
 But to fine issues ; nor Nature never lends 
 The smallest scruple of her excellence, 
 
 But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines 
 Herself the glory of a creditor— 
 
 Both thanks and use. — Shakespeare. 
 
 2558. NATURE. Nothing vile in 
 
 ’Tis nature’s law 
 
 That none, the meanest of created things, 
 
 Of forms created the most vile and brutish, 
 
 The dullest and most noxious, should exist 
 Divorced from good—a spirit and pulse of good, 
 A life and soul to every mode of being 
 Inseparably link’d.— Wordsworth. 
 
 2559. NATURE. Perfectness of 
 
 Who can paint 
 Like Nature? Can imagination boast, 
 
 Amid its gay creation, hues like hers, 
 
 Or can it mix them with that matchless skill, 
 And lose them in each other, as appears 
 In every bud that blows ? — Thomson. 
 
 2560. NATURE. Song of 
 
 The harp at Nature’s advent strung 
 Has never ceased to play ; 
 
 The song the stars of morning sung 
 Has never died away. 
 
 And prayer is made, and praise is given, 
 
 By all things near and far : 
 
 The ocean looketh up to heaven, 
 
 And mirrors every star. 
 
 Its waves are kneeling on the strand, 
 
 As kneels the human knee, 
 
 Their white locks bowing to the sand, 
 
 The priesthood of the sea ! 
 
 They pour their glittering treasures forth, 
 Their gifts of pearl they bring, 
 
 And all the listening hills of earth 
 Take up the song they sing. 
 
 The green earth sends her incense up 
 From many a mountain shrine ; 
 
 From folded leaf and dewy cup 
 She pours her sacred wine. 
 
 The mists above the morning rills 
 Rise white as wings of prayer ; 
 
 The altar curtains of the hills 
 Are sunset’s purple air. 
 
 The winds with hymns of praise are loud, 
 
 Or low with sobs of pain, 
 
 The thunder-organ of the cloud, 
 
 The dropping tears of rain. 
 
 With drooping head and branches cross’d, 
 The twilight forest grieves, 
 
 Or speaks with tongues of Pentecost 
 From all its sunlit leaves. 
 
 The blue sky is the temple’s arch, 
 
 Its transept earth and air, 
 
 The music of its starry march 
 The chorus of a prayer. 
 
 So Nature keeps the reverent frame 
 With which her years began, 
 
 And all her signs and voices shame 
 
 The prayerless heart of man.— Whittier. 
 
 2561. NATURE. Study of 
 
 Nature hath made nothing so base, but can 
 Read some instruction to the wisest man. 
 
 Aleyn . 
 
 In contemplation of created things 
 By steps we may ascend to God.— Milton. 
 
 By viewing Nature, Nature’s handmaid, Art, 
 Makes mighty things from small beginnings grow 
 Thus fishes first to shipping did impart, 
 
 Their tail the rudder, and their head the prow. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 Nature affords at least a glimm’ring light; 
 
 The lines, though touch’d but faintly, are drawn right 
 
 Pope. 
 
NA TURE 
 
 497 
 
 NATURE 
 
 Read Nature ; Nature is a friend to truth : 
 Nature is Christian ; preaches to mankind ; 
 And bids dead matter aid us in our creed. 
 
 Young. 
 
 Up ! up, my friend ! and quit your books, 
 Or surely you’ll grow double ; 
 
 Up ! up, my friend ! and clear your looks ; 
 
 Why all this toil and trouble ? 
 
 One impulse from a vernal wood 
 May teach you more of man, 
 
 Of moral evil and of good, __ 
 
 Than all the sages can. 
 
 Sweet is the lore which nature brings ; 
 
 Our meddling intellect 
 Misshapes the beauteous forms of things— 
 We murder to dissect. 
 
 Enough of science and of art; 
 
 Close up those barren leaves ; 
 
 Come forth, and bring with you a heart 
 That watches and receives. — Wordsworth. 
 
 2562. NATURE. Sympathies with 
 
 All natural objects have 
 An echo in the heart. This flesh doth thrill, 
 
 And has connection by some unseen chain 
 With its original source and kindred substance. 
 The mighty forest, the proud tides of ocean, 
 Sky-clearing hills, and in the vast of air 
 The starry constellations, and the sun, 
 
 Parent of life exhaustless—these maintain 
 With the mysterious mind and breathing mould 
 A co-existence and community.— Hunt. 
 
 2563. NATURE. Teachings of 
 
 From dearth to plenty, and from death to life, 
 
 Is Nature’s progress, when she lectures man 
 In heavenly truth ; evincing as she makes 
 The grand transition, that there lives and works 
 A soul in all things, and that soul is God. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 Nature, employ’d in her allotted place, 
 
 Is hand-maid to the purposes of Grace ; 
 
 By good vouchsafed, makes known superior good, 
 And bliss not seen, by blessings understood. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 The seasons came and went, and went and came, 
 To teach men gratitude ; and, as they pass’d, 
 
 Gave warning of the lapse of time, that else 
 Had stolen unheeded by : the gentle flowers 
 Retired, and, stooping o’er the wilderness, 
 
 Talk’d of humility, and peace, and love. 
 
 The dews came down unseen at evening-tide, 
 
 And silently their bounties shed, to teach 
 Mankind unostentatious charity. 
 
 With arm in arm the forest rose on high, 
 
 And lesson gave of brotherly regard. 
 
 And on the rugged mountain brow exposed, 
 
 Bearing the blast alone, the ancient oak 
 Stood, lifting high his mighty arm, and still 
 To courage in distress exhorted loud. 
 
 The flocks, the herds, the birds, the streams, the 
 breeze, 
 
 Attuned the heart to melody and love. 
 
 Mercy stood in the cloud, with eye that wept 
 Essential love ; and, from her glorious bow, 
 
 Bending to kiss the earth in token of peace, 
 
 With her own lips, her gracious lips, which God 
 Of sweetest accent made, she whisper’d still, 
 
 She whisper’d to Revenge : Forgive, forgive ! 
 
 The Sun, rejoicing round the earth, announced 
 Daily the wisdom, power, and love of God. 
 
 The Moon awoke, and from her maiden face 
 Shedding her cloudy locks, look’d meekly forth, 
 
 And with her virgin stars walk’d in the heavens, 
 Walk’d nightly there, conversing as she walk’d 
 Of purity, and holiness, and God. 
 
 In dreams and visions sleep instructed much. 
 
 Day utter’d speech to day, and night to night 
 Taught knowledge : silence had a tongue : the grave, 
 The darkness, and the lonely waste, had each 
 A tongue, that ever said, Man ! think of God ! 
 
 Think of thyself! think of eternity ! 
 
 Fear God, the thunders said ; fear God, the waves; 
 Fear God, the lightning of the storm replied ; 
 
 Fear God, deep loudly answer’d back to deep. 
 
 And, in the temples of the Holy One, 
 
 Messiah’s messengers, the faithful few, 
 
 Faithful ’mong many false, the Bible open’d, 
 
 And cried, Repent! repent, ye Sons of Men ! 
 Believe, be saved.— Pollok. 
 
 Nothing is lost on him who sees 
 With an eye that genius gave ; 
 
 For him there’s a story in every breeze, 
 
 And a picture in every wave.— Moore. 
 
 Never have the works of Nature 
 Yet to mortal man reveal’d, 
 
 How his much offended Maker 
 May to him be reconciled. 
 
 Flower, nor tree, nor rock, nor mountain, 
 Ever yet have show’d the way, 
 
 Ever told him of a Fountain 
 
 That could wash his guilt away. 
 
 Man could never yet discover, 
 
 From the sky, the earth, the sea, 
 
 32 
 
 
NATURE 
 
 498 
 
 NECESSITY 
 
 When his days on earth are over, 
 
 Where or what his state should be. 
 
 But the page of inspiration 
 Casts a light upon the whole, 
 
 Bringing peace and consolation 
 To the never-dying soul. 
 
 Alexander Letham. 
 
 There is a God, all nature speaks, 
 
 Through earth, and air, and seas, and skies; 
 See, from the clouds His glory breaks, 
 
 When the first beams of morning rise ! 
 
 The rising sun, serenely bright, 
 
 O’er the wide world’s extended frame 
 Inscribes, in characters of light, 
 
 His mighty Maker’s glorious name. 
 
 Anne Steele. 
 
 Nature is man’s best teacher. She unfolds 
 Her treasures to his search, unseals his eye, 
 
 Illumes his mind, and purifies his heart, 
 
 An influence breathes from all the sights and sounds 
 Of her existence ; she is wisdom’s self.— Street. 
 
 There’s not a plant that springeth, 
 
 But bears some good to earth ; 
 
 There’s not a life but bringeth 
 Its store of harmless mirth : 
 
 The dusty, wayside clover 
 Has honey in its cells,— 
 
 The wild bee, humming over, 
 
 Her tale of pleasure tells ; 
 
 The osiers, o’er the fountain, 
 
 Keep cool the water’s breast,— . 
 
 And on the roughest mountain 
 The softest moss is press’d. 
 
 Thus holy Nature teaches 
 The worth of blessings small, 
 
 That Love pervades, and reaches, 
 
 And forms the bliss of all.— Mrs Hale. 
 
 2564. NATURE. Temple of 
 
 Not vainly did the early Persian make 
 His altar the high places and the peak 
 Of earth—o’er gazing mountains, and thus take 
 A fit and unwall’d temple, there to seek 
 The Spirit, in whose honour shrines are weak, 
 Uprear’d of human hands. Come, and compare 
 Columns and idol-dwellings, Goth or Greek, 
 With nature’s realms of worship, earth and air, 
 .Nor fix on fond abodes to circumscribe thy prayer! 
 
 Byron. 
 
 Live thou with God in Nature : never falter 
 In thy communings with Him. Be 
 
 Like those blest birds we read of in the Psalter, 
 Who found a home from peril free 
 In God’s own house, and nestled near His altar, 
 Making it ring with melody. 
 
 That temple stands no more, 
 
 But Nature standeth still: God’s holy presence 
 Abideth with us, and the offering 
 Of thankful joy to Him whose perfect essence 
 Is perfect love, our glowing lips may bring, 
 
 Till this brief life is o’er ; 
 
 And in a brighter, better, 
 
 Our spirits know no fetter.— Bethune. 
 
 Go abroad 
 
 Upon the paths of Nature, and when all 
 Its voices whisper, and its silent things 
 Are breathing the deep beauty of the world, 
 Kneel at its simple altar, and the God, 
 
 Who hath the living waters, shall be there. 
 
 Willis. 
 
 2565. NECESSITY. 
 
 It was, we own, subject of much debate, 
 
 And worthy men stood on opposing sides, 
 
 Whether the cup of mortal life had more 
 Of sour or sweet. Vain question this, when ask’d 
 In general terms, and worthy to be left 
 Unsolved.—The sweet was in the taste, 
 
 The beauty in the eye, and in the ear 
 The melody ; and in the man—for God 
 Necessity of sinning laid on none.— Pollok. 
 
 Necessity, like electricity, 
 
 Is in ourselves and all things, and no more 
 Without us than within us.— Bailey. 
 
 We will and act and talk of liberty ; 
 
 And all our wills and all our doings both 
 Are limited within this little life. 
 
 Free will is but necessity in play,— 
 
 The clattering of the golden reins which guide 
 The thunder-footed coursers of the sun.— Bailey. 
 
 The ship which goes to sea inform’d with fire,— 
 Obeying only its own iron force, 
 
 Reckless of adverse tides, breeze dead, or weak 
 As infant’s sporting breath, too faint to stir 
 The feather held before it,—is as much 
 The appointed thrall of all the elements, 
 
 As the white-bosom’d bark which woos the wind, 
 And when it dies desists. And thus with man ; 
 Ilowever contrary he set his heart 
 To God, he is but working out His will ; 
 
 And, at an infinite angle, more or less 
 I Obeying his own soul’s necessity. — Bailey. 
 

 NEGLECT 
 
 499 
 
 NIGH 7 ' 
 
 
 
 2566. NEGLECT. Penalty of 
 
 
 What is the good man and the wise? 
 Ofttimes a pearl which none doth prize ; 
 
 Or jewel rare, which men account 
 A common pebble, and despise. 
 
 Set forth upon the world’s bazaar, 
 
 It mildly gleams, but no one buys, 
 
 Till it in anger Heaven withdraws 
 From the world’s undiscerning eyes : 
 
 And in its shell the pearl again, 
 
 And in its mine the jewel, lies.— Oriental. 
 
 2567. NEGLECT. The sinner’s 
 
 The husbandman, who sluggishly forgot 
 
 In spring to plough and sow, could censure none, 
 
 Though winter clamour’d round his empty barns. 
 
 But he who having thus neglected, did 
 
 Refuse, when autumn came, and famine threaten’d. 
 
 To reap the golden field that charity 
 
 Bestow’d—nay, more obdurate, proud, and blind, 
 
 And stupid still, refused, though much beseech’d, 
 
 And long entreated, even with Mercy’s tears, 
 
 To eat what to his very lips was held. 
 
 Cook’d temptingly—he certainly, at least, 
 
 Deserved to die of hunger, unbemoan’d. 
 
 So did the wicked spurn the grace of God, 
 
 And so were punish’d with the second death. 
 
 Pollok. 
 
 2568. NEIGHBOUR. Definition of 
 
 Thy neighbour? It is he whom thou 
 Hast power to aid and bless ; 
 
 Whose aching heart and burning brow 
 Thy soothing hand may press. 
 
 Thy neighbour ? ’Tis the fainting poor, 
 Whose eye with want is dim ; 
 
 Whom hunger sends from door to door ;— 
 
 Go thou and succour him. 
 
 Thy neighbour? ’Tis that wearied man 
 Whose years are at their brim, 
 
 Bent low with sickness, cares, and pain !— 
 
 Go thou and comfort him. 
 
 Thy neighbour? ’Tis the heart bereft 
 Of every earthly gem ; 
 
 Widow and orphan, helpless left;— 
 
 Go thou and shelter them. 
 
 Thy neighbour? Yonder toiling slave. 
 Fetter'd in thought and limb, 
 
 Whose hopes are all beyond the grave ! — 
 
 Go thou and ransom him. 
 
 2569. NEW YEAR. Uncertainty of the 
 
 Could I, from heaven inspired, as sure presage 
 To whom the rising year shall prove his last, 
 
 As I can number in my punctual page 
 And item down the victims of the past; 
 
 How each would trembling wait the mournful sheet 
 On which the press might stamp him next to die ; 
 
 And, reading here his sentence, how replete 
 
 With anxious meaning, heavenward turn his eye ! 
 
 Then doubtless many a trifler, on the brink 
 Of this world’s hazardous and headlong shore, 
 
 Forced to a pause, would feel it good to think, 
 
 Told that his setting sun must rise no more. 
 
 Ah, self-deceived ! could I prophetic say 
 Who next is fated, and who next to fall. 
 
 The rest might then seem privileged to play; 
 
 But, naming none, the Voice now speaks to all. 
 
 Coivper. 
 
 2570. NEW YEAR’S THANKSGIVING. 
 
 O loving One ! O bounteous One ! 
 
 What have I not received from Thee, 
 
 Throughout the seasons that have gone 
 Into the past eternity ? 
 
 Lowly my name, and mine estate ; 
 
 Yet, Father, many a child of Thine, 
 
 Of purer heart and cleaner hands, 
 
 Walks in a humbler path than mine. 
 
 And, looking backward through the year, 
 Along the way my feet have press’d, 
 
 I see sweet places everywhere, 
 
 Sweet places where my soul had rest. 
 
 For though some human hopes of mine 
 Are dead and buried from my sight, 
 
 Yet from their graves immortal flowers 
 Have sprung and blossom’d into light. 
 
 Body, and heart, and soul have been 
 Fed by the most convenient food ; 
 
 My nights are peaceful all the while, 
 
 And all my mortal days are good. 
 
 My sorrows have not been so light, 
 
 Thy chastening hand I could not trace ; 
 
 Nor have my blessings been so great 
 That they have hid my Father’s face. 
 
 2571. NIGHT. Charms of 
 
 Whene’er thou meet’st a human form 
 With any need or grief, 
 
 Remember ’tis thy brother worm ; 
 
 Oh! give thou quick relief. 
 
 Look how the floor of heaven 
 Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold ; 
 There’s not the smallest orb which thou behold’st 
 But in his motion like an angel sings, 
 
NIGHT 
 
 500 
 
 NIGHT 
 
 Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubims : 
 
 Such harmony is in immortal souls ; 
 
 But whilst this muddy vesture of decay 
 Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Now glow’d the firmament 
 With livid sapphires : Hesperus, that led 
 The starry host, rode brightest, till the moon, 
 
 Rising in cloudy majesty, at length 
 Apparent queen unveil’d her peerless light, 
 
 And o’er the dark her silver mantle threw.— Milton. 
 
 But see where, in the clear, unclouded sky, 
 
 The crescent moon, with calm and sweet rebuke, 
 Doth charm away the spirit of complaint. 
 
 Her tender light falls on the snow-clad hills, 
 
 Like the pure thoughts that angels might bestow 
 Upon this world of beauty and of sin, 
 
 That mingle not with that wherein they rest; 
 
 So should immortal spirits dwell below. 
 
 There is a holy influence in the moon, 
 
 And in the countless hosts of silent stars, 
 
 The heart cannot resist: its passions sleep, 
 
 And all is still : save that which shall awake 
 When all the vast and fair creation sleeps. 
 
 Mrs Fallen. 
 
 2572. NIGHT. Moral of 
 
 Behold the world 
 Rests, and her tired inhabitants have paused 
 From trouble and turmoil. The widow now 
 Has ceased to weep, and her twin orphans lie 
 Lock’d in each arm, partakers of her rest. 
 
 The man of sorrow has forgot his woes ; 
 
 The outcast that his head is shelterless, 
 
 His griefs unshared. The mother tends no more 
 Her daughter’s dying slumbers, but surprised 
 With heaviness, and sunk upon her couch, 
 
 Dreams of her bridals. Even the hectic, lull’d 
 On Death’s lean arm to rest, in visions wrapp’d, 
 Crowning with Hope’s bland wreath his shuddering 
 nurse, 
 
 Toor victim ! smiles. Silence and deep repose 
 Reign o’er the nations ; and the warning voice 
 Of nature utters audibly within 
 The general moral —tells us that repose, 
 
 Death-like as this, but of far longer span, 
 
 Is coming on us—that the weary crowds, 
 
 Who now enjoy a temporary calm, 
 
 Shall soon taste lasting quiet, wrapp’d around 
 With grave-cloths ; and their aching, restless heads 
 Mouldering in holes and corners unobserved, 
 
 Till the last trump shall break their sullen sleep. 
 
 H. Kirke White. 
 
 2573. NIGHT. Temple of 
 
 And how I bless night’s consecrating shades, 
 Which to a temple turn a universe ; 
 
 Fill us with great ideas full of heaven, 
 
 And antidote the pestilential earth ! 
 
 In every storm that either frowns or falls, 
 What an asylum has the soul in prayer ! 
 
 And what a fane is this, in which to pray ! 
 And what a God must dwell in such a fane ! 
 Oh, what a genius must inform the skies ! 
 
 Young. 
 
 2574. NIGHT. Uses of the 
 
 Night is the time for rest; 
 
 How sweet, when labours close, 
 
 To gather round an aching heart 
 The curtain of repose. 
 
 Stretch the tired limbs, and lay the head 
 Upon our own delightful bed. 
 
 Night is the time to weep, 
 
 To wet with unseen tears 
 Those graves of memory, where sleep 
 The joys of other years— 
 
 Hopes that were angels in their birth, 
 
 But perish’d young, like things of earth. 
 
 Night is the time to muse ; 
 
 Then from the eye the soul 
 Takes flight, and with expanding views, 
 Beyond the starry pole, 
 
 Descries, athwart the abyss of night, 
 
 The dawn of uncreated light. 
 
 Night is the time to pray ; 
 
 The Saviour oft withdrew 
 To desert mountains far away; 
 
 So will His followers do— 
 
 Steal from the throng to haunts untrod, 
 And hold communion there with God. 
 
 Night is the time for death; 
 
 When all around is peace, 
 
 Calmly to yield the weary breath, 
 
 From sin and suffering cease : 
 
 Think of heaven’s bliss, and give the sign 
 To parting friends—such death be mine. 
 
 Ja?nes Montgoyyiery. 
 
 This dead of midnight is the noon of thought, 
 And Wisdom mounts her zenith with the stars. 
 
 Mrs Barbauld. 
 
 Night is the time when Nature seems 
 God’s silent worshipper ; 
 
 And ever with a chasten’d heart, 
 
 In unison with her, 
 
 I lay me on my peaceful couch, 
 
 The day’s dull cares resign’d, 
 
 And let my thoughts fold up like flowers, 
 In the twilight of the mind. 
 
 Sara J. Clarke. 
 
 
' NO ROOM FOR JESUS 
 
 NOVELS 
 
 5°r 
 
 ,2575. NO ROOM FOR JESUS. 
 
 O PLODDING life ! crowded so full 
 Of earthly toil and care ! 
 
 The body’s daily need receives 
 The first and last concern, and leaves 
 No room for Jesus there. 
 
 O busy brain ! by night and day 
 Working, with patience rare, 
 
 Problems of worldly loss or gain, 
 
 Thinking till thought becomes a pain— 
 
 No room for Jesus there. 
 
 O throbbing heart ! so quick to feel 
 In others’ woes a share, 
 
 Yet human loves each power enthrall, 
 
 And sordid treasures fill it all— 
 
 No room for Jesus there. 
 
 O sinful soul! thus to debase 
 The being God doth spare ! 
 
 Blood-bought thou art! no more thine own ; 
 Heart, brain, life, all are His alone— 
 
 Make room for Jesus there, 
 
 Lest soon the bitter day shall come 
 When vain will be thy prayer 
 To find in Jesus’ heart a place : 
 
 For ever closed the door of grace, 
 
 Thou’lt gain no entrance there. 
 
 2576. NOBILITY : not an accident of birth. 
 
 Whoe’er amidst the sons 
 Of reason, valour, liberty, and virtue, 
 
 Displays distinguish’d merit, is a noble 
 Of nature’s own creating. Such have risen, 
 
 Sprang from the dust; or where had been our 
 honours ?— Thomson. 
 
 Look round 
 
 Among the titled great ones of the world ; 
 
 Do they not spring from some proud monarch’s 
 flatterer, 
 
 Some favourite mistress, or ambitious minister, 
 
 The ruin of his country, while their blood 
 Rolls down through many a fool, through many a 
 villain, 
 
 To its now proud possessors?— Frances. 
 
 There’s no power 
 
 In ancestry to make the foolish wise, 
 
 The ignorant learn’d, the cowardly and base 
 Deserving our respect as brave and good. 
 
 All men feel this : nor dares the despot say 
 His fiat can endow with truth the soul, 
 
 Or, like a pension, on the heart bestow’ 
 
 The virtues current in the realms above. 
 
 Hence man’s best riches must be gain’d—not given ; 
 His noblest name deserved, and not derived. 
 
 Mrs Hale. 
 
 2577. NOBILITY. True 
 
 ’Tis not the wealth that makes a king, 
 
 Nor the purple colouring, 
 
 Nor a brow that’s bound with gold, 
 
 Nor gate on mighty hinges roll’d. 
 
 The king is he, w r ho, void of fear, 
 
 Looks abroad with bosom clear; 
 
 Who can tread ambition down, 
 
 Nor be sway’d by smile or frown : 
 
 Nor for all the treasure cares 
 That mine conceals, or harvest wears, 
 
 Or that golden sands deliver, 
 
 Bosom’d in a glassy river. 
 
 What shall move his placid might ? 
 
 Not the headlong thunder-light, 
 
 Nor all the shapes of slaughter’s trade, 
 
 With onward lance, or fiery blade. 
 
 Safe, with w’isdom for his crovm, 
 
 He looks on all things calmly dowm ; 
 
 He welcomes Fate, w’hen Fate is near, 
 
 Nor taints his dying breath with fear. 
 
 No—to fear not earthly thing, 
 
 That is all that makes the king ; 
 
 And all of us, whoe’er we be, 
 
 May carve us out that royalty. 
 
 Seneca , tr. by Leigh Hunt. 
 
 2578. NOVELS. Nature of 
 
 A Novel was a book 
 
 Three-volumed, and once read, and oft cramm’d full 
 Of poisonous error, blackening every page ; 
 
 And oftener still of trifling, second-hand 
 Remark, and old, diseased, putrid thought; 
 
 And miserable incident, at war 
 
 With nature, with itself and truth at war : 
 
 Yet charming still the greedy reader on, 
 
 Till, done, he tried to recollect his thoughts, 
 
 And nothing found but dreaming emptiness. 
 
 These, like ephemera, sprung in a day, 
 
 From lean and shallow-soiled brains of sand, 
 
 And in a day expired ; yet v'hile they lived, 
 Tremendous ofttimes was the popular roar ; 
 
 And cries of Live for ever ! struck the skies. 
 
 Pollok. 
 
 2579. NOVELS. Vicious 
 
 Ye writers of what none with safety reads, 
 
 Footing it in the dance that fancy leads ; 
 
 Ye novelists, who mar what ye would mend, 
 Snivelling and drivelling folly without end, 
 
NOVELTY 
 
 502 
 
 OBLIVION 
 
 Whose corresponding misses fill the ream 
 With sentimental frippery and dream, 
 
 Caught in a delicate soft silken net 
 By some lewd earl or rakehell baronet; 
 
 Ye pimps who, under virtue’s fair pretence, 
 
 Steal to the closet of young Innocence, 
 
 And teach her, unexperienced yet and green, 
 
 To scribble as you scribble at fifteen ; 
 
 Who, kindling a combustion of desire, 
 
 With some cold moral think to quench the fire, 
 Though all your engineering proves in vain, 
 
 The dribble stream ne’er puts it out again : 
 
 Oh that a verse had power, and could command 
 Far, far away, these flesh-flies of the land, 
 
 Who fasten without mercy on the fair, 
 
 And suck, and leave a craving maggot there! 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 2580. NOVELTY. 
 
 New customs, 
 
 Though they be never so ridiculous, 
 
 Nay, let them be unmanly, yet are follow’d. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 All with one consent, praise new-born gauds, 
 
 Though they are made and moulded of things past. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 If all the year were playing holidays, 
 
 To sport would be as tedious as to work ; 
 
 But, when they seldom come, they wish’d for come, 
 And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Of all the passions that possess mankind, 
 
 The love of novelty rules most the mind ; 
 
 In search of this, from realm to realm we roam ; 
 
 Our fleets come fraught with every folly home. 
 
 Foote. 
 
 Still sighs the world for something new, 
 
 For something new 
 Imploring me, imploring you, 
 
 Some Will-o’-wisp to help pursue. 
 
 Ah, hapless world, what will it do ! 
 
 Imploring me, imploring you, 
 
 For something New !— Hoyt. 
 
 2581. OATHS. 
 
 Oaths were not purposed more than law 
 To keep the good and just in awe, 
 
 But to confine the bad and sinful, 
 
 Like moral cattle, in a pinfold.— Butler. 
 
 An oath is a recognizance to heaven, 
 
 Binding us over in the courts above, 
 
 To plead to the indictment of our crimes, 
 
 That those who ’scape this world should suffer there. 
 
 Southern. 
 
 What use of oaths, of promise, or of test, 
 Where men regard no God but interest ? 
 
 Waller. 
 
 2582. OATHS. Frequent 
 
 Oaths terminate, as Paul observes, all strife— 
 Some men have surely then a peaceful life. 
 Whatever subject occupy discourse, 
 
 The feats of Vestris, or the naval force', 
 Asseveration blustering in your face 
 Makes contradiction such a hopeless case ; 
 
 In every tale they tell, or false or true, 
 
 Well known, or such as no man ever knew, 
 They fix attention, heedless of your pain, 
 
 With oaths like rivets forced into the brain ; 
 And even when sober truth prevails throughout, 
 They swear it, till affirmance breeds a doubt. 
 
 A Persian, humble servant of the sun, 
 
 Who, though devout, yet bigotry had none, 
 Hearing a lawyer, grave in his address, 
 
 With adjurations every word impress, 
 
 Supposed the man a bishop, or at least, 
 
 God’s name so much upon his lips, a priest; 
 Bow’d at the close with all his graceful airs, 
 And begg’d an interest in his frequent prayers. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 2583. OBEDIENCE. Perfect 
 
 I worship Thee, sweet Will of God ! 
 
 And all Thy ways adore, 
 
 And every day I live, I seem 
 To love Thee more and more. 
 
 When obstacles and trials seem 
 Like prison walls to be, 
 
 I do the little I can do, 
 
 And leave the rest to Thee. 
 
 I know not what it is to doubt; 
 
 My heart is ever gay, 
 
 I run no risk, for come what will, 
 
 Thou always hast Thy way ! 
 
 I have no cares, O blessed Will, 
 
 For all my cares are Thine ; 
 
 I live in triumph, Lord, for Thou 
 
 Hast made Thy triumphs mine.— Faber. 
 
 2584. OBLIVION. Emblem of 
 
 Alone I walk’d the ocean strand ; 
 
 A pearly shell was in my hand : 
 
 I stoop’d and wrote upon the sand 
 My name, the year, the day. 
 
 As onward from the spot I pass’d, 
 
 One lingering look behind I cast: 
 
 A wave came rolling high and fast, 
 
 And wash'd my lines away. 
 
 
OBSER VA TION 
 
 503 
 
 OFFERING 
 
 And so, methought, twill shortly be 
 With every mark on earth from me : 
 
 A wave of dark oblivion’s sea 
 Will sweep across the place 
 Where I have trod the sandy shore 
 Of Time, and been to be no more, 
 
 Of me, my day, the name I bore, 
 
 To leave nor track nor trace. 
 
 And yet, with Him who counts the sands, 
 
 And holds the waters in His hands, 
 
 I know a lasting record stands, 
 
 Inscribed against my name, 
 
 Of all this mortal part has wrought, 
 
 Of all this thinking soul has thought, 
 
 And from these fleeting moments caught 
 For glory or for shame .—Hannah F. Gould. 
 
 2585. OBSERVATION. Points of 
 
 There are points from which we can command our 
 life ; 
 
 When the soul sweeps the future like a glass ; 
 
 And coming things, full freighted with our fate, 
 
 Jut out, dark, on the offlng of the mind. —Bailey. 
 
 2586. OBSTINACY. 
 
 Your blunderer is as sturdy as a rock, 
 
 The creature is so sure to kick and bite, 
 
 A muleteer’s the man to set him right. 
 
 First appetite enlists him truth’s sworn foe, 
 
 Then obstinate self-will confirms him so. 
 
 Tell him he wanders ; that his error leads 
 To fatal ill; that though the path he treads 
 Be flowery, and he see no cause of fear. 
 
 Death and the pains of hell attend him there; 
 
 In vain, the slave of arrogance and pride, 
 
 He has no hearing on the prudent side. 
 
 His still refuted quirks he still repeats; 
 New-raised objections with new quibbles meets ; 
 Till sinking in the quicksand he defends, 
 
 He dies disputing, and the contest ends. 
 
 Cozvper. 
 
 2587. OCEAN. 
 
 Others may use the ocean as their road, 
 
 Only the English make it their abode ; 
 
 Whose ready sails with every wind can fly, 
 
 And make a cov’nant with th’ inconstant sky. 
 
 Waller. 
 
 Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean,—roll! 
 
 Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain : 
 
 Man marks the earth with ruin,—his control 
 Stops with the shore ; upon the watery plain 
 The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain 
 
 A shadow of man’s ravage, save his own, 
 
 When for a moment, like a drop of rain, 
 
 He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, 
 Without a grave, unknell’d, uncoffin’d, and unknown. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty’s form 
 Glasses itself in tempests : in all time, 
 
 Calm or convulsed—in breeze, or gale, or storm, 
 Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime 
 Dark-heaving—boundless, endless, and sublime ■ 
 The image of eternity—the throne 
 
 Of the invisible ; even from out thy slime 
 The monsters of the deep are made : each zone 
 Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, 
 alone.— Byron. 
 
 Type of the Infinite ! I look away 
 Over thy billows, and I cannot stay 
 My thought upon a resting-place, or make 
 A shore beyond my vision, where they break ; 
 
 But on my spirit stretches, till it s pain 
 To think ; then rests, and then puts forth again. 
 
 Dana. 
 
 Ocean, thou dreadful and tumultuous home 
 Of dangers, at eternal war with man ! 
 
 Death’s capital where most he domineers, 
 
 With all his chosen terrors frowning round, 
 Wide opening and loud roaring still for more, 
 Too faithful mirror 1 how dost thou reflect 
 The melancholy face of human life. 
 
 25SS. OFFENCES. 
 
 All’s not offence that indiscretion finds. 
 
 And dotage terms so.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Time to me this truth has taught 
 (’Tis a treasure worth revealing), 
 
 More offend by want of thought 
 Than by any want of feeling. 
 
 Charles Swain. 
 
 2589. OFFERING. A complete 
 
 ‘ Saviour, is there anything 
 I have fail’d to bring ? 
 
 Lies my offering at Thy feet 
 Incomplete ? 
 
 Lord, bethink Thee, I am poor ; 
 
 Slender is my store ; 
 
 Yea, my best is nothing worth 
 Even on earth— 
 
 Even to men : oh ! then, how small 
 To the Lord of all, 
 
 Who, creating worlds anew. 
 
 As the dew 
 
/ 
 
 OFFERING 
 
 504 
 
 OFFERINGS 
 
 Sweeps them lightly from their place 
 In the fields of space ; 
 
 Counts the universe as nought 
 But a thought! 
 
 Yet, since Thou hast deign’d to ask, 
 Oh, how sweet the task 
 (Though the gift be poor) to bring 
 Everything ! 
 
 Everything ? Alas, this fear ! 
 
 I may yet appear 
 Holding some dear bauble fast 
 At the last. 
 
 Saviour, is there anything 
 I have fail’d to bring ? 
 
 Lies my offering incomplete 
 At Thy feet ? ' 
 
 Answer’d He, * If thou hast brought, 
 
 Clothing every thought, 
 
 Love to God, and love to man. 
 
 As men can ; 
 
 Charity for all who stray 
 
 From the narrow way ; 
 
 Eager hands to draw them back 
 
 * 
 
 And point the track ; 
 
 Gifts according to thy store 
 For the needy poor ; 
 
 In My suffering ones dost see 
 Even Me ; 
 
 If thy tears are swift to flow 
 For thy brother’s woe ; 
 
 Having strength, if thou dost seek 
 To raise the weak ; 
 
 If thou dost My mercy show 
 Even to thy foe; 
 
 Grant the pardon proffer’d thee 
 Full and free ; 
 
 Yea, if thou thy will hast brought, 
 Crossing Mine in nought; 
 
 Faith that shall outlast thy breath, 
 Strong in death ; 
 
 Matters not thy world’s estate, 
 
 Be it small or great : 
 
 This thy offering, thou dost bring 
 Everything ! ’ 
 
 ‘Nay, my Lord, my Lord ! ’ I cried ; 
 
 ‘ I am sorely tried : 
 
 Nothing, nothing have I brought 
 That I ought ! 
 
 Cold my love to Thee, Most High ; 
 
 Cold my charity ; 
 
 Idle hands and heart of stone 
 Are my own ; 
 
 Mine an unsubdued will; 
 
 Faith that gropeth still: 
 
 Yet, O God my Righteousness ! 
 
 Bless, 0I1! bless. 
 
 This, at least, to Thee I bring — 
 
 Meek petitioning ; 
 
 Humble penitence and pain : 
 
 Is it vain ? 
 
 Strong desire to serve Thee more 
 Than I have before, 
 
 And in Thy suffering ones to see 
 Even Thee ! 
 
 Now, indeed, my tears do flow 
 For all others’ woe ; 
 
 Tasting grief that doth surpass 
 All, alas ! 
 
 Hear me, Lord of earth and sky ! 
 
 At thy feet I lie ; 
 
 My confessions all I bring— 
 
 Everything. 
 
 Pitying Lord, wilt Thou despise 
 This my sacrifice ? 
 
 Tell me, Saviour, do I bring 
 A nything ? ’ 
 
 Answer’d He, ‘ At last, at last, 
 
 Is thy pride o’erpast? 
 
 Little is thy best, indeed ; 
 
 Great thy need. 
 
 Yet, beloved of My heart, 
 
 I for thee did smart; 
 
 On the cross, in thy dear stead, 
 
 Bow’d My head ; 
 
 Though Death’s sharpest, sorest throes, 
 
 I triumphant rose, 
 
 Even that thou mightest be 
 Raised with Me. 
 
 Is My love for thee grown less, 
 
 That I should not bless, 
 
 Or the lowliest sacrifice 
 Should despise ? 
 
 Nay, but I am satisfied, 
 
 Having all beside, 
 
 Since that erring heart of thine, 
 
 On My shrine, 
 
 Broken, contrite, suppliant lies— 
 
 Sweetest sacrifice ! 
 
 In that offering thou dost bring 
 Everything! ’ 
 
 Harriet McEwen Kimball. 
 
 2590. OFFERINGS. Acceptable 
 
 Hail, kingly Jesus ! to Thy feet 
 Our hearts their tribute bring; 
 
 Not sparkling gold, not odours sweet, 
 
 But love, our offering. 
 
OFFERINGS 
 
 505 
 
 OFFERINGS 
 
 Such treasures to Thy manger-bed 
 The ancient Magi brought, 
 
 When, by the star resplendent led, 
 
 Judea’s King they sought. 
 
 But hearts of humble poverty 
 Are fairer in Thine eyes ; 
 
 And penitence is more to Thee 
 Than costly sacrifice. 
 
 When Thou wert sitting once at meat, 
 
 And, kneeling humbly there, 
 
 With tears a sinner bathed Thy feet, 
 
 And wiped them with her hair ; 
 
 As over them she pour’d perfume, 
 
 Amid her tears like rain, 
 
 Till the sweet odour fill’d the room, 
 
 Thou didst not her disdain. 
 
 And wilt Thou, Master, from our hymn 
 Turn scornfully Thine ear ? 
 
 Nay, ’mid the songs of seraphim 
 Our worship Thou wilt hear. 
 
 A. R. Thompson. 
 
 2591. OFFERINGS : brought to Christ. 
 
 The wise men to Thy cradle-throne, 
 
 O Infant Saviour ! brought, of old, 
 
 The incense meet for God alone, 
 
 Sharp myrrh, and shining gold. 
 
 Shine on us too, sweet Eastern Star, 
 
 Thine own baptized Gentile band, 
 
 Till we have found our Lord from far, 
 
 An offering in our hand ! 
 
 Till we have brought the fine gold rare, 
 
 Of zeal that giveth all for love ; 
 
 Till we have pray’d the glowing prayer, 
 
 Like incense borne above ; 
 
 Till bitter tears our eyes have wet, 
 
 Because our wilful hearts would err ; 
 Worship and love and sorrow met, 
 
 Gold, frankincense, and myrrh. 
 
 All meet for Thee, our own adored, 
 
 Our suffering .Saviour, God, and King : 
 Accept the gold and incense, Lord ; 
 
 Accept the myrrh, we bring. 
 
 Mrs Alexander. 
 
 2592. OFFERINGS. Easter 
 
 What shall we offer of gift to-day— 
 
 What treasure that Christ will heed ? 
 
 What on Love’s altar is best to lay— 
 
 Of what can the Lord have need ? 
 
 Once robes and branches of palm were strew’d, 
 While thrill’d was the bending sky 
 
 With floods of triumph filling the road 
 As the Holy One went by. 
 
 What meed to-day shall leaven the throng 
 With faith in the feet we kiss ? 
 
 What spreading bloom and poean of song 
 Move the question, ‘ Who is this ? ’ 
 
 Oh, not the evergreen palms we wear, 
 
 Or robes in His way we fling, 
 
 Or floral gifts that to Him we bear, 
 
 Most honour our Lord, the King! 
 
 These gifts are good, but worthier ones 
 Lie hidden away beneath, 
 
 And mellow the world as latent suns 
 That pierce through the winter’s sheath. 
 
 Of such are the childlike trust and peace 
 That beam on the Christian’s face ; 
 
 Of such are the prayers that never cease 
 Till they win a looked-for grace ; 
 
 Of such are the helping hand and heart ; 
 
 Of such is sympathy’s tear ; 
 
 Of such is the soul that knows the art 
 To gladden with godly cheer ; 
 
 Of such is the love that upward lifts 
 The Church in its onward way : 
 
 Such, such are our spirit’s priceless gifts 
 That the dear Lord needs to-day. 
 
 Mary B. Dodge. 
 
 2593. OFFERINGS. Heathen 
 
 Of oil and cassia one the ingredients takes, 
 
 And, of the mixture, a rich ointment makes : 
 Another finds the way to dye the grain, 
 
 And make Calabrian wool receive the Tyrian stain ; 
 Or, from their golden ore, in rivers rakes ; 
 
 Then melts the mass : all these are vanities ! 
 
 Yet still some profit from their pains may rise : 
 
 But tell me, priest, if I may be so bold, 
 
 What are the gods the better for this gold ? 
 
 The wretch that offers from his wealthy store 
 These presents, bribes the Powers to give him more. 
 But let us for the gods a gift prepare, 
 
 Which the great man’s great chargers cannot bear; 
 A soul, where laws both human and divine 
 In practice more than speculation shine : 
 
 A genuine virtue, of a vigorous kind, 
 
 Pure in the last recesses of the mind : 
 
 When with such offerings to the gods I come, 
 
 A cake, thus given, is worth a hecatomb. 
 
 Ter sins, tr. by Dry den. 
 
OFFERINGS 
 
 OLD AGE 
 
 506 
 
 2594. OFFERINGS. Personal 
 
 They gave to Thee 
 
 Myrrh, frankincense, and gold ; 
 
 But, Lord, with what shall we 
 Present ourselves before Thy majesty, 
 
 Whom Thou redeem’dst when we were sold ? 
 We’ve nothing but ourselves, and scarce that neither ; 
 Vile dirt and clay ; 
 
 Yet it is soft, and may 
 Impression take. 
 
 Accept it, Lord, and say, this Thou hadst rather ; 
 Stamp it, and on this sordid metal make 
 Thy holy image, and it shall outshine 
 The beauty of the golden mine.— Jeremy Taylor. 
 
 2595. OFFICE. 
 
 Custom calls me to’t. 
 
 What custom wills in all things, should we do’t, 
 
 The dust on antique time would lie unswept, 
 
 And mountainous error be too highly heap’d 
 For truth to overpeer. Rather than feel it so, 
 
 Let the high office and the honour go 
 To one who would do thus.— Shakespeare. 
 
 2596. OLD AGE : claims our reverence. 
 
 Youth has a sprightliness and fire to boast, 
 
 That in the valley of decline are lost, 
 
 And virtue with peculiar charms appears, 
 
 Crown’d with the garland of life’s blooming years. 
 
 Yet age, by long experience well inform’d, 
 
 Well read, well temper’d, with religion warm’d. 
 
 That fire abated which impels rash youth, 
 
 Proud of his speed, to overshoot the truth, ' 
 
 As time improves the grape’s authentic juice, 
 
 Mellows and makes the speech more fit for use, 
 
 And claims a rev’rence in its short’ning day, 
 
 That ’tis an honour and a joy to pay.— Cowper. 
 
 2597. OLD AGE. Irreligious 
 
 A shipwreck’d sailor on a desert isle, 
 
 A lonely bark without supplies or compass, 
 Launching upon a dark, uncharted sea, 
 
 A houseless wanderer on an Arctic shore, 
 
 A thirsty traveller over desert sands, 
 
 Is wintry age with piety unblest. 
 
 And he who trusts and loves the glittering things 
 O’er which corruption and decay have power, 
 Prepares the soil, and sows the seed, whose fruit 
 Is sorrow, disappointment, and despair.— Depart. 
 
 2598. OLD AGE: its opportunity. 
 
 As the barometer foretells the storm 
 
 While still the skies are clear, the weather warm, 
 
 So something in us, as old age draws near, 
 Betrays the pressure of the atmosphere. 
 
 The nimble mercury, ere we are aware, 
 Descends the elastic ladder of the air ; 
 
 The tell-tale blood in artery and vein 
 Sinks from its higher levels in the brain; 
 Whatever poet, orator, or sage 
 May say of it, old age is still old age. 
 
 It is the waning, not the crescent moon, 
 
 The dusk of evening, not the blaze of noon ; 
 
 It is not strength, but weakness ; not desire, 
 But its surcease ; not the fierce heat of fire, 
 The burning and consuming element, 
 
 But that of ashes and of embers spent, 
 
 In which some living sparks we still discern, 
 Enough to warm, but not enough to burn. 
 
 What then ? Shall we sit idly down and say 
 The night hath come ; it is no longer day ? 
 The night hath not yet come, we are not quite 
 Cut off from labour by the failing light; 
 Something remains for us to do or dare ; 
 
 Even the oldest tree some fruit may bear; 
 
 Not CEdipus Coloneus, or Greek Ode, 
 
 Or tales of pilgrims that one morning rode 
 Out of the gateway of the Tabard Inn, 
 
 But other something, would we but begin ; 
 
 For age is opportunity no less 
 Than youth itself, though in another dress, 
 And as the evening twilight fades away 
 The sky is fill’d with stars, invisible by day. 
 
 Longfellow . 
 
 2599. OLD AGE. Signs of 
 
 My days pass pleasantly away, 
 
 My nights are bless’d with sweetest sleep ; 
 
 I feel no symptoms of decay, 
 
 I have no cause to mourn or weep ; 
 
 My foes are impotent and shy, 
 
 My friends are neither false nor cold; 
 
 And yet of late I often sigh, 
 
 ‘ I’m growing old.’ 
 
 My growing talk of olden times, 
 
 My growing thirst for early news. 
 
 My growing apathy to rhymes, 
 
 My growing love of easy shoes, 
 
 My growing hate of crowds and noise, 
 
 My growing fear of taking cold ; 
 
 All whisper, in the plainest voice, 
 
 ‘ I’m growing old.’ 
 
 I’m growing fonder of my staff, 
 
 I’m growing dimmer in the eyes. 
 
 I’m growing fainter in my laugh, 
 
 I’m growing deeper in my sighs, 
 
OLD AGE 
 
 507 
 
 ONENESS WITH CHRIST 
 
 I’m growing careless of my dress, 
 
 I’m growing frugal with my gold, 
 
 I’m growing wise, I’m growing—yes, 
 
 ‘ I’m growing old.’ 
 
 Thanks for the years whose rapid flight 
 My sombre muse too sadly sings ; 
 
 Thanks for the gleams of golden light 
 That tint the darkness of their wings ; 
 
 The light that beams from out the sky 
 Those heavenly mansions to unfold, 
 
 Where all are blest, and none may sigh 
 
 ‘ I’m growing old.’— Saxe. 
 
 2600. OLD AGE. Solitariness of 
 
 What is the worst of woes that wait on age ? 
 
 What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow ? 
 
 To view each loved one blotted from life’s page, 
 And be alone on earth, as I am now.— Byron. 
 
 2601. OMNIPRESENCE. Comfort of 
 
 Ever with Thee, Almighty Love, through all the 
 weary night— 
 
 A joy above all other joy, a light above all light; 
 
 And all the day, where’er I stray, on path bestrewn 
 with flowers, 
 
 Or dight in winter’s drapery, of snow, and sleet, and 
 showers. 
 
 Ever with Thee, Almighty Love! I lean upon the 
 breast, 
 
 On which the universe of stars, with all their being, 
 rest; 
 
 That cares for many a thousand worlds, yet ever 
 cares for me, 
 
 And guides my way, by night and day, where’er my 
 wanderings be. 
 
 Ever with Thee, Almighty Love ! Thy Son, the 
 King of kings, 
 
 To me the message of Thy love, writ in His heart’s- 
 blood, brings ; 
 
 And when the blasts that shake the base of earthly 
 hopes o’ertake me, 
 
 He gently whispers in my ear, ‘ I never will forsake 
 thee.’ 
 
 Ever with Thee, Almighty Love ! When lying in 
 the dust, 
 
 I’ll gather all thy promises, and lean on them my 
 trust , 
 
 Then rise refresh’d, and journey on, assured the end 
 will be 
 
 A home in heaven for evermore, Almighty Love, 
 with Thee !— Paulin. 
 
 2602. OMNISCIENCE. Trust in 
 
 God knows—not I—the devious way 
 Wherein my faltering feet must tread, 
 Before into the light of day 
 
 My steps from out this gloom are led. 
 
 And since my Lord the path doth see, 
 
 What matter if ’tis hid from me ? 
 
 God knows—not I—how sweet accord 
 Shall grow from all this crash 
 Of earthly discords which have jarr’d 
 On soul and sense—I hear the clash— 
 Yet feel and know that on His ear 
 Breaks harmony—full, deep, and clear. 
 
 God knows—not I—why, when I’d fain 
 Have walk’d in pastures green and fair, 
 The path He pointed me hath lain 
 
 Through rocky deserts, bleak and bare. 
 
 I blindly trust—since ’tis His will— 
 
 This way lies safely, that way, ill. 
 
 He knows, too, why, despite my will, 
 
 I’m weak when I should be most strong, 
 And after earnest wrestling still 
 I see the right, yet do the wrong. 
 
 Is’t that He’d have me learn at length, 
 
 Not mine, but His—the saving strength? 
 
 His perfect plan I may not grasp ; 
 
 Yet I can trust Love Infinite, 
 
 And with my feeble fingers clasp 
 
 The hand which leads me to the light. 
 My soul upon His errand goes, 
 
 The end I know not—but God knows. 
 
 2603. ONENESS WITH CHRIST. 
 
 Lord Jesus, are we one with Thee? 
 
 O height, O depth of love ! 
 
 With Thee we died upon the tree, 
 
 In Thee we live above. 
 
 Such was Thy grace, that for our sake 
 Thou didst from heaven come down, 
 
 Our mortal flesh and blood partake, 
 
 I11 all our misery one. 
 
 Our sins, our guilt, in love Divine, 
 
 Were borne on earth by Thee; 
 
 The gall, the curse, the wrath were Thine, 
 To set Thy members free. 
 
 Ascended now in glory bright, 
 
 Still one with us Thou art, 
 
 Nor life, nor death, nor depth, nor height, 
 Thy saints and Thee can part. 
 
OPINION 
 
 ORDER 
 
 50S 
 
 Soon, soon shall come that glorious day, 
 
 When, seated on Thy throne, 
 
 Thou shalt to wondering worlds display 
 That Thou with us art one. 
 
 2604. OPINION. 
 
 Opinion’s but a fool, that makes us scan 
 The outward habit by the inward man. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Opinion is that high and mighty dame 
 Which rules the world ; and in the mind doth frame 
 Distaste or liking : for in human race, 
 
 She makes the fancy various as the face.— Howel. 
 
 Yet in opinions look not always back ; 
 
 Your wake is nothing, mind the coming track ; 
 Leave what you’ve done for what you have to do, 
 Don’t be ‘consistent,’ but be simply true. 
 
 O. IV. Holmes. 
 
 How much there is self-will would do, 
 
 Were it not for the dire dismay 
 That bids ye shrink, as ye suddenly think 
 Of ‘ What will my neighbours say ? ’ 
 
 Eliza Cook. 
 
 2605. OPPORTUNITY. 
 
 There is a tide in the affairs of men, 
 
 Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; 
 Omitted, all the voyage of their life 
 Is bound in shallows, and in miseries. 
 
 On such a full sea are we now afloat; 
 
 And we must take the current when it serves, 
 
 Or lose our ventures.— Shakespeare. 
 
 The means that heaven yields must be embraced, 
 And not neglected ; else, if heaven would, 
 
 And we will not, heaven’s offer we refuse, 
 
 The proffer’d means of succour and redress. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 A little fire is quickly trodden out; 
 
 Which, being suffer’d, rivers cannot quench. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Occasion, set on wing, flies fast away, 
 
 Whose back once turn’d, no hold-fast can we find ; 
 Her feet are swift, bald is her head behind : 
 
 Whoso hath hold, and after lets her go, 
 
 Doth lose the lot which fortune did bestow. 
 
 Mirror for Magistrates. 
 
 Opportunity to statesmen, is as the just degree 
 Of heat to chymists ; it perfects all the work. 
 
 Suckling. 
 
 The old Scythians 
 
 Painted blind Fortune’s powerful hands with wings, 
 
 To show her gifts come swift and suddenly, 
 Which, if her fav’rite be not swift to take, 
 
 He loses them for ever.— Chapman. 
 
 Miss not the occasion ; by the forelock take 
 That subtle Power, the never-halting time, 
 
 Lest a mere moment’s putting-off should make 
 Mischance almost as heavy as a crime. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 A thousand years a poor man watch’d 
 Before the gate of Paradise : 
 
 But while one little nap he snatch’d 
 It oped and shut. Ah ! was he wise? 
 
 Oriental, tr. by W. R. Alger. 
 
 The golden opportunity 
 Is never offer’d twice ; seize then the hour 
 When fortune smiles and duty points the way ; 
 
 Nor shrink aside to ’scape the spectre Fear, 
 
 Nor pause, though Pleasure beckon from her bower ; 
 But bravely bear thee onward to the goal. 
 
 2606. ORATORY. 
 
 And ’tis remarkable that they 
 Talk most that have the least to say. 
 
 \ our daily speakers have the curse 
 To plead their causes down to worse : 
 
 As dames who native beauty want 
 
 Still uglier look the more they paint.— Prior. 
 
 While words of learned length and thund’ring sound 
 Amazed the gazing rustics ranged around ; 
 
 And still they gazed, and still the wonder grew 
 That one small head should carry all he knew. 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 \A ho, too deep for his hearers, still went on refining, 
 And thought of convincing, while they thought of 
 dining.— Goldsmith. 
 
 2607. ORDER. Argument from 
 
 If casual concourse did the world compose, 
 
 And things and hits fortuitous arose, 
 
 Then anything might come from anything ; 
 
 For how from chance can constant order spring? 
 
 Blackmore. 
 
 2608. ORDER. Beauty of 
 
 Set all things in their own peculiar place, 
 
 And know that order is the greatest grace. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 Not chaos-like* together crush’d and bruised ; 
 
 But as the world, harmoniously confused : 
 
 Where order in variety we see, 
 
 And where, though all things differ, they agree. 
 
 Pope. 
 
ORDER 
 
 5°9 
 
 PAINS OF LIFE 
 
 2609. ORDER. Divine 
 
 ’Tis first the true and then the beautiful— 
 
 I Not first the beautiful and then the true ; 
 
 First the wild moor, with rock and reed and pool, 
 Then the gay garden, rich in scent and hue. 
 
 ’Tis first the good and then the beautiful— 
 
 Not first the beautiful and then the good ; 
 
 First the rough seed, sown in the rougher soil, 
 
 Then the flower-blossom, or the branching wood. 
 
 . 
 
 Not first the glad and then the sorrowful — 
 
 I But first the sorrowful and then the glad ; 
 
 Tears for a day—for earth of tears is full, 
 
 Then we forget that we were ever sad. 
 
 Not first the bright, and after that the dark— 
 
 But first the dark, and after that the bright; 
 
 First the thick cloud, and then the rainbow’s arc ; 
 First the dark grave, then resurrection-light. 
 
 I 
 
 ’Tis first the night—stern night of storm and war— 
 Long nights of heavy clouds and veiled skies, 
 Then the far sparkle of the Morning-star, 
 
 That bids the saints awake and dawn arise. 
 
 Bonar. 
 
 2610. ORDER. Law of 
 
 Order is Heaven’s first law—a glorious law 
 Seen in those pure and beauteous isles of light 
 That come and go, as circling months fulfil 
 Their high behest. Nor less on earth discern’d, 
 ’Mid rocks snow-clad, or waste of herbless sand, 
 Throughout all climes, beneath all varying skies, 
 Fixing for e’en the smallest flower that blooms 
 Its place of growth.— Milton. 
 
 The heavens themselves, the planets, and their centre, 
 Observe degree, priority, and place, 
 
 Insisture, course, proportion, season, form, 
 
 Office, and custom, in all line of order. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 And who but wishes to invert the laws 
 Of order, sins against th’ eternal cause. — Pope. 
 
 2611. ORNAMENT. 
 
 The world is still deceived with ornament. 
 
 In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt, 
 
 But, being season’d with a gracious voice, 
 
 Obscures the show of evil ? In religion, 
 
 What damned error, but some sober brow 
 Will bless it, and approve it with a text, 
 
 Hiding the grossness with fair ornament? 
 
 There is no vice so simple but assumes 
 Some marks of virtue on its outward parts. 
 
 How many cowards, whose hearts are all as false 
 
 As stairs of sand, wear yet upon their chins 
 The beard of Hercules and frowning Mars, 
 
 Who, inward search’d, have livers white as milk ! 
 And these assume but valour’s excrement, 
 
 To render them redoubted. Look on beauty, 
 
 And you shall see ’tis purchased by the weight : 
 Which therein works a miracle in nature, 
 
 Making them lightest that wear most of it: 
 
 So are those crisped, snaky, golden locks, 
 
 Which make such wanton gambols with the wind, 
 Upon supposed fairness, often known 
 To be the dowry of a second head ; 
 
 The skull that bred them in the sepulchre. 
 
 Thus ornament is but the gilded shore 
 
 To a most dangerous sea ; the beauteous scarf 
 
 Veiling an Indian beauty ; in a word, 
 
 That seeming truth which cunning times put on 
 To entrap the wisest.— Shakespeare. 
 
 2612. FAIN. 
 
 There was never yet philosopher 
 That could endure the toothache patiently ; 
 However they have writ the style of gods. 
 
 And made a pish at chance and sufferance. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Nearer acquainted, now I feel by proof 
 That fellowship in pain divides not smart, 
 
 Nor lightens aught each man’s peculiar load. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 How soon would ease recant 
 Vows made in pain as violent and void ! 
 
 Milton. 
 
 Of night impatient, we demand the day ; 
 
 The day arrives, then for the night we pray : 
 
 The night and day successive come and go ; 
 
 Our lasting pains no interruption know. 
 
 Sir R. Blackmore. 
 
 O fatal search ! in which the lab’ring mind, 
 
 Still press’d with weight of woe, still hopes to find 
 A shadow of delight, a dream of peace, 
 
 From years of pain one moment of release.— Prior. 
 
 2613. PAINS OF LIFE. . The 
 
 « Suffer us not for any pains of Death to fall from '1 hee.'— 
 Book 0/ Prayer. 
 
 The pains of Death, O Christ, we do not fear, 
 
 Nor that still valley beyond human call, 
 
 For then, Thy voice will fill our dulling ear, 
 
 And from Thy mighty hands we cannot fall. 
 
 We but attain to Peace through Death’s hard strife; 
 But oh, the pains of Life ! The pains of Life ! 
 
 The weariness of all our daily cares, 
 
 The bitterness of love that ends in tears, 
 
PAINTING 
 
 510 
 
 PARENTS 
 
 The griefs that come upon us unawares, 
 
 The hopes delay’d—the unprofitable years, 
 
 The sense of bitter wrongs and poverty : 
 
 Through these ! O Christ! we would not fall from 
 Thee ! 
 
 But when our hearts are troubled and afraid, 
 
 Weary and fainting, full of vague alarms, 
 
 Healer of bruised souls, then bring us aid, 
 
 Put under us the Everlasting Arms. 
 
 Thou that hast wept, and died, oh, grant that we 
 For pains of Life or Death, fall not from Thee ! 
 
 Lillie E. Barr. 
 
 2614. PAINTING. 
 
 Hard features every bungler can command ; 
 
 To draw true beauty shows a master’s hand. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 ’Tis ever}" painter’s art to hide from sight, 
 
 And cast in shades, what seen would not delight. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 His pictured morals mend the mind, 
 
 And through the eye improve the heart. 
 
 Garrick: on Hogarth. 
 
 2615. PALESTINE. Redemption of 
 
 Oh, happy once in Heaven’s peculiar love, 
 
 Delight of men below, and saints above ! 
 
 Though, Salem, now the spoiler’s ruffian hand 
 Has loosed his hell-hounds o’er thy wasted land ; 
 Though weak, and whelm’d beneath the storms of 
 fate, 
 
 Thy house is left unto thee desolate ; 
 
 Yet shalt thou rise ; but not by war restored, 
 
 Not built in murder, planted by the sword. 
 
 Yes, Salem, thou shalt rise : thy Father’s aid 
 Shall heal the wound His chastening hand has made; 
 Shall judge the proud oppressor’s ruthless sway, 
 
 And burst his brazen bonds, and cast his cords away. 
 Then on your tops shall deathless verdure spring— 
 Break forth, ye mountains, and ye valleys, sing ! 
 
 No more your thirsty rocks shall frown forlorn, 
 
 The unbeliever’s jest, the heathen’s scorn ; 
 
 The sultry sands shall tenfold harvests yield, 
 
 And a new Eden deck the thorny field. 
 
 Even now, perchance, wide-waving o’er the land 
 That mighty angel lifts his golden wand, 
 
 Courts the bright visions of descending power, 
 
 Tells every gate, and measures every tower; 
 
 And chides the tardy seals that yet detain 
 
 Thy Lion, Judah, from His destined reign.— Heber. 
 
 2616. PARADISE. Traditions of 
 
 Say’ST thou there was no ‘ Paradise of God?’ 
 
 No happy, sinless state of early man ? 
 
 Ask all the ages past, each record scan, 
 
 And see if always cursed was this now barren sod. 
 
 Go ask the Greek—he tells of Golden age, 
 
 When the god-govem’d earth was heavenly, pure ; 
 When never death, nor woes men now endure. 
 
 Had enter’d here, nor hate, nor guile, nor rage. 
 
 The eastern Magian speaks of earliest days, 
 
 "When holy Oromasdes reign’d o’er man ; 
 
 The far Egyptian tells Osiris’ praise, 
 
 Governing all in peace, ere rude revolt began. 
 
 And wilt thou God’s own Paradise deny, 
 
 When e’en the heathen tales affirm it ceaselessly? 
 
 Ann Flinders. 
 
 2617. PARDON. 
 
 These evils I deserve, 
 
 Yet despair not of His final pardon, 
 
 Whose ear is ever open, and His eye 
 Gracious to readmit the suppliant.— Milton. 
 
 2618. PARENTAL AFFECTION. 
 
 Unreasonable creatures feed their young ; 
 
 And though man’s face be fearful to their eyes, 
 
 Yet, in protection of their tender ones, 
 
 Who hath not seen them, even with those wings 
 W T hich sometimes they have used with fearful flight. 
 Make war with him that climb’d unto their nest, 
 
 Off ring their own lives in their young’s defence ? 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 The poor wren, 
 
 The most diminutive of birds, will fight, 
 
 Pier young ones in her nest, against the owl. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 2619. PARENTS. Indulgent 
 
 By Satan’s subtlety beguiled, 
 
 To Satan’s school they send, 
 
 And each delights the favourite child 
 To humour and commend. 
 
 The proud with ranker pride they fill, 
 
 Heighten their worst disease, 
 
 And fondly soothe the stubborn will 
 To tenfold stubbornness. 
 
 With lust of pleasure, wealth, and fame, 
 
 Their children they inspire, 
 
 And every vain desire inflame. 
 
 And every passion fire. 
 
 They wish them good, but rather great; 
 
 Religious, but genteel; 
 
 Pious, yet fond of pomp and state ; 
 
 As heaven would mix with hell. 
 
 Adorn’d in pearl and rich array 
 You see the murderer’s prize ! 
 
 As, crown’d with flowers, the victims gay 
 Are led to sacrifice. 
 
PARENTS 
 
 PASSIONS 
 
 5* 1 
 
 Down a broad, easy way they glide 
 To endless misery ; 
 
 And curse their doting parents’ pride 
 To all eternity.— Charles Wesley. 
 
 2620. PARENTS. Tyrannic 
 
 With notions fraught, the Stoics sour 
 Pursue their rigid plan ; 
 
 In weakness look for perfect power, 
 
 In babes the strength of man. 
 
 The wisdom ripe of hoary hairs 
 From children they require ; 
 
 Till time their scheme in pieces tears, 
 
 And all in smoke expire. 
 
 Harass’d by long domestic war, 
 
 With scarce a truce between, 
 
 The children’s tender minds abhor 
 The Egyptian discipline. 
 
 They quite throw off the yoke severe, 
 
 O’er nature’s wilds to rove, 
 
 And hate the objects of their fear, 
 
 Whom they could never love. 
 
 Charles Wesley. 
 
 2621. PARTING. 
 
 I never spoke the word ‘ Farewell! ’ 
 
 But with an utterance faint and broken ; 
 
 1 A heart-sick yearning for the time 
 
 When it should never more be spoken. 
 
 Caroline Bowles. 
 
 When forced to part from those we love, 
 
 Though sure to meet to-morrow ; 
 
 We yet a kind of anguish prove 
 And feel a touch of sorrow. 
 
 But oh ! what words can paint the fears 
 When from those friends we sever, 
 
 Perhaps to part for months—for years— 
 
 Perhaps to part for ever. 
 
 2622. PASSION. The ruling 
 
 In every breast there burns an active flame,— 
 
 The love of glory or the dread of shame.— Pope. 
 
 The ruling passion, be it what it will, 
 
 The ruling passion conquers reason still.— Pope. 
 
 And hence one master-passion in the breast, 
 
 Like Aaron’s serpent, swallows up the rest.— Pope. 
 
 Search then the ruling passion : there alone 
 The wild are constant, and the cunning known ; 
 The fool consistent, and the false sincere ; 
 
 Priests, princes, women, no dissemblers here. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 On life’s vast ocean diversely we sail, 
 
 Reason the card, but passion is the gale.— Pope. 
 
 In the human breast 
 
 Two master-passions cannot co-exist.— Campbell. 
 
 In this one passion man can strength enjoy, 
 
 As fits give vigour just when they destroy. 
 
 Time, that on all things lays his lenient hand, 
 
 Yet tames not this; it sticks to our last sand. 
 Consistent in our follies and our sins, 
 
 Here honest Nature ends as she begins. 
 
 Old politicians chew on wisdom past, 
 
 And totter on in business to the last. 
 
 The frugal crone, whom praying priests attend, 
 Still tries to save the hallow’d taper’s end, 
 
 Collects her breath, as ebbing life retires, 
 
 For one puff more, and in that puff expires. 
 
 ‘ 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.’ 
 
 The courtier smooth, who forty years had shined 
 An humble servant to all humankind, 
 
 Just brought out this, when scarce his tongue could 
 stir, 
 
 ‘ If, where I’m going, I could serve you, sir ? ’— Pope. 
 
 2623. PASSIONS. Conquered 
 
 As fruits ungrateful to the planter’s care, 
 
 On savage stocks inserted, learn to bear, 
 
 The surest virtues thus from passions shoot, 
 Wild nature’s vigour working at the root. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 2624. PASSIONS. Governing the 
 
 Thou must chain thy passions down : 
 
 Well to serve, but ill to sway, 
 
 Like the fire, they must obey. 
 
 They are good, in subject state, 
 
 To strengthen, warm, and animate ; 
 
 But if once we let them reign, 
 
 They sweep with desolating train, 
 
 ’Till they but leave a hated name, 
 
 A ruin’d soul, and blackened fame. 
 
 Eliza Cook. 
 
 2625. PASSIONS. Power of the 
 
 Take heed lest passion 
 Sway thy judgment to do aught. — Milton. 
 
 Men make resolves, and pass into decrees 
 The motions of the mind : with how much ease, 
 In such resolves, doth passion make a flaw, 
 
 And bring to nothing what was raised to law! 
 
 Churchill. 
 
PASSIONS 
 
 512 
 
 PASSIONS 
 
 Plow terrible is passion ! how our reason 
 Falls down before it! whilst the tortured frame, 
 Like a ship dash’d by fierce encount’ring tides, 
 And of her pilot spoil'd, drives round and round, 
 The sport of wind and wave.— Barfo?-d. 
 
 While passions glow, the heart, like heated steel, 
 Takes each impression, and is work’d at pleasure. 
 
 Young. 
 
 2626. PASSIONS: restrained. 
 
 When Reason, like the skilful charioteer, 
 
 Can break the fiery passions to the bit, 
 
 And, spite of their licentious sallies, keep 
 The radiant track of glory ; passions, then, 
 
 Are aids and ornaments. Triumphant Reason, 
 Firm in her seat, and swift in her career, 
 
 Enjoys their violence, and, smiling, thanks 
 Their formidable flame, for bright renown. 
 
 Young. 
 
 As a driver checks his horses, 
 
 Stamping, prancing, in the courses, 
 
 Firm of hand, alert, yet mildly 
 Keeping them from running wildly, 
 
 So the wise man and the saint 
 Hold their passions in restraint. 
 
 Redpath , from the A cam of Mann. 
 
 2627. PASSIONS. Slavery to the 
 
 The worst of slaves is he whom passion rules, 
 Uncheck’d by reason, and the powerful voice 
 Of friendship.— Brooke. 
 
 But if thy passions lord it in thy breast, 
 
 Art thou not still a slave ?— Dry den. 
 
 What profits us that we from heaven derive 
 A soul immortal, and with looks erect 
 Survey the stars, if, like the brutal kind, 
 
 We follow where our passions lead the way? 
 
 Dryden . 
 
 His soul, like bark with rudder lost, 
 
 On passion’s changeful tide was tost ; 
 
 Nor vice nor virtue had the power 
 Beyond the impression of the hour : 
 
 And oh, when passion rules, how rare 
 The hours that fall to virtue’s share !— Scott. 
 
 2628. PASSIONS. Slumbering 
 
 And underneath that face, like summer ocean’s, 
 
 Its lip as moveless, and its cheek as clear, 
 Slumbers a whirlwind of the heart’s emotions, 
 
 Love, hatred, pride, hope, sorrow—all save fear. 
 
 Halleck. 
 
 2629. PASSIONS. Strong 
 
 Passions are liken’d best to floods and streams ; 
 
 The shallow murmur, but the deep are dumb : 
 
 So when affections yield discourse, it seems 
 The bottom is but shallow whence they come. 
 They that are rich in words must needs discover 
 They are but poor in that which makes a lover. 
 
 Raleigh. 
 
 Like mighty rivers, with resistless force 
 The passions rage, obstructed in their course, 
 
 Swell to new heights, forbidden paths explore, 
 
 And drown those virtues which they fed before. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Oh how the passions, insolent and strong, 
 
 Bear our weak minds their rapid course along, 
 
 Make us the madness of their will obey, 
 
 Then die, and leave us to our grief a prey.— Craobe. 
 
 I cannot love as I have loved. 
 
 And yet I know not why; 
 
 It is the one great woe of life 
 To feel all feeling die ; 
 
 As one by one the heartstrings snap, 
 
 As age comes on so chill; 
 
 And hope seems left that hope may cease, 
 And all will soon be still. 
 
 And the strong passions, like to storms, 
 
 Soon rage themselves to rest, 
 
 Or leave a desolated calm— 
 
 A worn and wasted breast ; 
 
 A heart that like the Geyser spring, 
 
 Amidst its bosom snows, 
 
 May shrink, not rest— but with its blood 
 Boils even in repose.— Bailey. 
 
 2630. PASSIONS. Ungoverned 
 
 A little fire is quickly trodden out, 
 
 Which being suffer’d, rivers cannot quench. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 When headstrong passion gets the reins of reason. 
 The force of nature, like too strong a gale, 
 
 For want of ballast, oversets the vessel.— Higgons. 
 
 An empire thou could’st crush, command, rebuild, 
 But govern not thy pettiest passion.— Byron. 
 
 2631. PASSIONS. Youthful 
 
 Alas ! our young affections run to waste, 
 
 Or water but the desert; whence arise 
 But weeds, of dark luxuriance, tares of haste, 
 
 Rank at the core, though tempting to the eyes, 
 Flowers whose wild odours breathe but agonies, 
 And trees whose gums are poison ; such the plants 
 Which spring beneath her steps as passion flies 
 O’er the world’s wilderness, and vainly pants 
 For some celestial fruit, forbidden to our wants. 
 
 Byron. 
 
PAST 
 
 5i3 
 
 PASTORS 
 
 2632. PAST. The 
 
 Things without all remedy 
 Should be without regard : What’s done is done. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Let us not burthen our remembrances 
 With a heaviness that’s gone.— Shakespeare. 
 
 What’s gone, and what’s past help, 
 
 Should be past grief.— Shakespeare. 
 
 ’Tis greatly wise to talk with our past hours 
 And ask them what report they bore to heaven, 
 
 And how they might have borne more welcome news. 
 
 Young. 
 
 Though varying wishes, hopes, and fears 
 Fever’d the progress of these years, 
 
 Yet now, days, weeks, and months but seem 
 The recollection of a dream.— Scott. 
 
 The past lives o’er again, 
 
 In its effects, and to the guilty spirit 
 
 The ever-frowning present is its image.— Coleridge. 
 
 2633. PAST. Progress in the 
 
 Oh sometimes gleams upon our sight, 
 
 Through present wrong, the Eternal Right! 
 
 And step by step, since time began, 
 
 We see the steady gain of man ; 
 
 That all of good the past hath had 
 Remains to make our own time glad, 
 
 Our common daily life divine, 
 
 And every land a Palestine. 
 
 We lack but open eye and ear 
 To find the Orient’s marvels here— 
 
 The still small voice in autumn’s hush, 
 
 Yon maple wood the burning bush. 
 
 For still the new transcends the old, 
 
 In signs and tokens manifold : 
 
 Slaves rise up men ; the olive waves 
 With roots deep set in battle graves. 
 
 Through the harsh noises of our day 
 A low, sweet prelude finds its way ; 
 
 Through clouds of doubt and creeds of fear 
 A light is breaking, calm and clear. 
 
 Henceforth my heart shall sigh no more 
 For olden time and holier shore ; 
 
 God’s love and blessing, then and there, 
 
 Are now, and here, and everywhere.— Whittier. 
 
 2634. PASTOR. Lot of the 
 
 A genial hearth, a hospitable board, 
 
 And a refined rusticity, belong 
 
 To the neat mansion, where, his flock among, 
 
 The learned pastor dwells, their watchful lord. 
 Though meek and patient as a sheathed sword, 
 Though pride’s least lurking thought appears a 
 wrong 
 
 To humankind ; though peace be on his tongue, 
 Gentleness in his heart; can earth afford 
 Such genuine state, pre-eminence so free, 
 
 As when, array’d in Christ’s authority, 
 
 He from the pulpit lifts his awful hand ; 
 
 Conjures, implores, and labours all he can 
 For re-subjecting to Divine command 1 
 The stubborn spirit of rebellious man? 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 2635. PASTORS. Faithful 
 
 A TRUE good man there was of religion, 
 
 Pious and poor, the parson of a town. 
 
 But rich he was in holy thought and work, 
 
 And thereto a right learned man ; a clerk 
 That Christ’s pure gospel would sincerely preach, 
 And his parishioners devoutly teach. 
 
 This noble ensample to his flock he gave, 
 
 That first he wrought, and afterward he taught 
 The word of life he from the gospel caught; 
 
 And well this comment added he thereto, 
 
 If that gold rusteth what should iron do ? 
 
 Not of reproach imperious or malign, 
 
 But in his teaching soothing and benign ; 
 
 To draw them on to heaven, by reason fair 
 And good example, was his daily care.— Chaucer. 
 
 The proud he tamed, 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 squared, 
 
 That all might see the doctrine which they heard. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 Wide was his parish, not contracted close 
 In streets, but here and there a straggling house ; 
 Yet still he was at hand, without request, 
 
 To serve the sick, to succour the distress’d, 
 Tempting on foot, alone, without affright, 
 
 The dangers of a dark tempestuous night. —Dryden. 
 
 In his duty prompt at every call, 
 
 He watch’d and wept, he pray’d and felt, for all: 
 And as a bird each fond endearment tries 
 To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, 
 
 He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, 
 
 Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way. 
 
 Beside the bed where parting life was laid, 
 
 And sorrow, guilt, and pain, by turns dismay’d, 
 
 The reverend champion stood. At his control 
 Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul; 
 
 33 
 
PASTORS 
 
 PA TIE NCR 
 
 5 H 
 
 Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raise, 
 And his last faltering accents whisper’d praise. 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 Of the deep learning in the schools of yore, 
 
 The reverend pastor hath a golden stock : 
 
 Yet, with a vain display of useless lore, 
 
 Or sapless doctrine, never will he mock 
 The better cravings of his simple flock ; 
 
 But faithfully their humble shepherd guides 
 
 Where streams eternal gush from Calvary’s rock ; 
 For well he knows, not learning’s purest tides 
 Can quench the immortal thirst that in the soul abides. 
 
 Mrs Little. • 
 
 2636. PASTORS. Inconsistent 
 
 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 read.— Shakespeare. 
 
 2637. PATIENCE. Angel of 
 
 To cheer, to help us, children of the dust, 
 
 More than one angel has Our Father given ; 
 
 But one alone is faithful to her trust, 
 
 The best, the brightest exile out of heaven. 
 
 Her ways are not the ways of pleasantness ; 
 
 Her paths are not the lightsome paths of joy; 
 
 She walks with wrongs that cannot find redress, 
 
 And dwells in mansions Time and Death destroy. 
 
 She waits until her stern precursor, Care, 
 
 Has lodged on foreheads, open as the morn, 
 
 To plough his deep, besieging trenches there— 
 
 The signs of struggles which the heart has borne. 
 
 But when the first cloud darkens in our sky, 
 
 And face to face with Life we stand alone, 
 
 Silent and swift, behold ! she draweth nigh, 
 
 And mutely makes our sufferings her own. 
 
 Unto rebellious souls, that, mad with Fate, 
 
 To question God’s eternal justice dare, 
 
 She points above with looks that whisper, ‘ Wait— 
 What seems confusion here is wisdom there.’ 
 
 Daughter of God ! who walkest with us here, 
 
 Who mak’st our every tribulation thine, 
 
 Such light hast thou in Earth’s dim atmosphere, 
 How must thy seat in heaven exalted shine ! 
 
 Bayard Taylor. 
 
 2638. PATIENCE. Angel of 
 
 A GENTLE angel walketh throughout a world of woe, 
 With messages of mercy to mourning hearts below : 
 
 His peaceful smile invites them to love and to confide, 
 Oh! follow in His footsteps, keep closely by His side! 
 
 To soft and tearful sadness, He changes dumb despair, 
 And soothes to deep submission the storm of grief 
 and care ; 
 
 Where midnight shades are brooding, He pours the 
 light of noon, 
 
 And every grievous wound He heals, most surely, if 
 not soon. 
 
 He will not always answer thy questions and thy fear, 
 His watchword is, ‘ Be patient, the journey’s end is 
 near ! ’ 
 
 And even through the toilsome way, He tells of joys 
 to come, 
 
 And points the pilgrim to his rest, the wanderer to 
 his home. 
 
 2639. PATIENCE. Angel of 
 
 To weary hearts, to mourning homes, 
 
 God’s meekest Angel gently comes 
 No power has he to banish pain, 
 
 / Or give us back our lost again ; 
 
 And yet in tenderest love our dear 
 And heavenly Father sends him here. 
 
 There’s quiet in that Angel’s glance ! 
 
 There’s rest in his still countenance ! 
 
 He mocks no grief with idle cheer, 
 
 Nor wounds with words the mourner’s ear ; 
 But ills and woes he may not cure 
 He kindly trains us to endure. 
 
 Angel of Patience ! sent to calm 
 Our feverish brows with cooling palm; 
 
 To lay the storms of hope and fear, 
 
 And reconcile life’s smile and tear ; 
 
 The throbs of wounded pride to still, 
 
 And make our own our Father’s will ! 
 
 O thou who moumest on thy way, 
 
 With longings for the close of day ; 
 
 He walks with thee, that Angel kind. 
 
 And gently whispers, ‘ Be resign’d : 
 
 Bear up, bear on, the end shall tell 
 The dear Lord ordereth all things well ! ’ 
 
 Whittier. 
 
 2640. PATIENCE. Difficulty of exercising 
 
 ’Tis all men’s office to speak patience 
 To those that wring under the load of sorrow ; 
 
 But no man’s moral,, when he shall endure 
 The like himself: therefore give me no counsel; 
 My griefs are louder than advertisement. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Patience, unmoved, no maiwel though she pause 
 (They can be meek that have no other cause) : 
 
PATIENCE 
 
 5i5 
 
 PA TIENCE 
 
 'A wretched soul, bruised with adversity, 
 
 We bid be quiet when we hear it cry ; 
 
 But were we burden’d with like weight of pain, 
 
 As much, or more, we should ourselves complain. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Many are the sayings of the wise, 
 
 In ancient and in modern books enroll’d, 
 
 Extolling patience as the truest fortitude ; 
 
 And to the bearing well of all calamities, 
 
 All chances incident to man’s frail life, 
 
 Consolitaries writ, 
 
 With studied argument, and much persuasion sought, 
 Lenient of grief and anxious thought : 
 
 But with th’ afflicted in his pangs their sound 
 
 Little prevails, or rather seems a tune 
 
 Harsh, and of dissonant mood from his complaint; 
 
 Unless he feels within 
 
 Some source of consolation from above, 
 
 Secret refreshings, that repair his strength, 
 
 And fainting spirits uphold.— Milton. 
 
 2641. PATIENCE : enjoined. 
 
 What God decrees, child of His love, 
 
 Take patiently, though it may prove 
 The storm that wrecks thy treasure here ; 
 
 Be comforted ! thou need’st not fear 
 What pleases God. 
 
 The wisest will is God’s own will ; 
 
 Rest on this anchor and be still; 
 
 For peace around thy path shall flow, 
 
 When only wishing here below 
 
 What pleases God.— Gerhardt. 
 
 2642. PATIENCE. Example of 
 
 O ye, whose hearts in secret bleed 
 O’er transient hope, like morning dew, 
 
 O’er friendship faithless in your need, 
 
 Or love to all its vows untrue, 
 
 Who shrink from persecution’s rod, 
 
 Or slander’s fang, or treachery’s tone, 
 
 Look meekly to the Son of God, 
 
 And in His griefs forget your own. 
 
 Forsaken are ye?—so was He ; 
 
 Reviled ?—yet check the ’vengeful word ; 
 Rejected ?—should the servant be 
 Exalted o’er his suffering Lord ? 
 
 Nor deem that Heaven’s omniscient eye 
 Is e’er regardless of your lot : 
 
 Deluded man from God may fly, 
 
 But when was man by God forgot ? 
 
 Mrs Sigourney. 
 
 2643. PATIENCE. Exhortation to 
 
 Oh ! foolish heart, be still, 
 
 And vex thyself no more, 
 
 Wait thou for God until 
 He opens pleasure’s door. 
 
 Thou know’st not what is good for thee, 
 
 But God doth know,— 
 
 Let Him thy strong reliance be, 
 
 And rest thee so. — C. F. Gellert. 
 
 2644. PATIENCE. Help to 
 
 In such a world, so thorny, and where none 
 Finds happiness unblighted, or, if found, 
 Without some thistly sorrow at its side, 
 
 It seems the part of wisdom, and no sin 
 Against the law of love, to measure lots 
 With less distinguish’d than ourselves, that thus 
 We may with patience bear our moderate ills, 
 And sympathize with others, suffering more. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 2645. PATIENCE. Lessons of 
 
 Be patient ! oh, be patient ! Put your ear against 
 the earth ; 
 
 Listen there how noiselessly the germ o’ the seed 
 has birth ; 
 
 How noiselessly and gently it upheaves its little way, 
 
 Till it parts the scarcely broken ground, and the 
 blade stands up in day. 
 
 Be patient ! oh, be patient ! the germs of mighty 
 thought 
 
 Must have their silent undergrowth, must under¬ 
 ground be wrought; 
 
 But as sure as there’s a power that makes the grass 
 appear, 
 
 Our land shall be green with liberty, the blade-time 
 shall be here. 
 
 Be patient ! oh, be patient ! go and watch the wheat- 
 ears grow— 
 
 So imperceptibly that ye can mark nor change nor 
 throe— 
 
 Day after day, day after day, till the ear is fully 
 grown, 
 
 And then again day after day, till the ripen’d field 
 is brown. 
 
 Be patient ! oh, be patient ! though yet our hopes 
 are green, 
 
 The harvest fields of freedom shall be crown’d with 
 sunny sheen. 
 
 Be ripening ! be ripening ! mature your silent way, 
 
 Till the whole broad land is tongued with fire on 
 freedom’s harvest day ! 
 
PA TIE NCR 
 
 516 
 
 PATIENT LOVE 
 
 2646. PATIENCE. Reward of 
 
 ‘ With patience sour grapes become sweetmeats, and mul¬ 
 berry leaves turn to satin.’— Oriental Proverb. 
 
 Calm daughter of the might of God, 
 
 Large-handed, firm, not prone to speak ; 
 Delighting to make strong the weak, 
 
 To lift with those who bear the load. 
 
 I long for that I do not find ; 
 
 It rests above, high out of reach. 
 
 Then comest thou, with skill to teach 
 The better habits of the mind. 
 
 I wait uneasily and strive, 
 
 Resentful at the motion slow 
 Of leaves which spread and worms which grow, 
 And, unproducing, seem to thrive. 
 
 But, after all, the grape will round, 
 
 Ruddy and ripe, with perfect juice ; 
 
 And, after all, the worm hath use, 
 
 When its cocoon is fully wound. 
 
 And then I drink, at length, the wine 
 Of long-enduring sun and rain, 
 
 And wear the robe which I was fain 
 In other days to seek for mine.— Duffield. 
 
 2647. PATIENCE. Reasons for 
 
 Oh, my tried soul, be patient ! Roughest rinds 
 Fold over sweetest fruitage ; heaviest clouds 
 Rain the most ample harvests on the fields ; 
 
 The grass grows greenest where the wintry snows 
 Have fallen deepest, and the fairest flowers 
 Spring from old dead decay ; the darkest mine 
 Yields the most flashing jewels from its cell; 
 
 And stars are born of darkness—day of night. 
 
 Oh, my tried soul, be patient ! Yet for thee 
 Goes on the secret alchemy of life ; 
 
 God, the one giver, grants no boon to earth 
 That He withholds from thee ; and from the depth 
 Of thy deep sorrow shall evolve new light, 
 
 New r strength to do and suffer, new resolves ; 
 Perchance, new gladness, and the freshest hopes. 
 Oh ! there are times when I can no more weep 
 That I have suffer’d, for I know great strength 
 Is born of suffering ; and I trust that still 
 Wrapt in the dry husks of my outer life 
 Lie warmer seeds than ever yet have burst 
 From its dull covering; stronger purposes 
 Stir consciously within, and make me great 
 With a new life—a life akin to God s 
 Which I must nurture for the holy skies. 
 
 Help me, Thou Great All-Patient ! for the flesh 
 Will sometimes falter, and the spirit fail : 
 
 Add to my human Thy Divine strength ; 
 
 When next I falter, rouse my faith as now, 
 
 That out of darkness I may see great light, 
 
 And follow where it ever leads—to Thee. 
 
 Caroline A. Briggs. 
 
 2648. PATIENCE. Success of 
 
 Haste not: the flying courser, over-heated, dies, 
 While step by step the patient camel goalward plies. 
 
 Oriental. 
 
 2649. PATIENCE. True 
 
 Patience in cowards is tame, hopeless fear ; 
 
 But in brave minds, a scorn of what they bear. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 2650. PATIENCE. Value of 
 
 How poor are they who have not patience ! 
 
 What wound did ever heal but by degrees ? 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Patience, my lord ! why ’tis the soul of peace : 
 
 Of all the virtues ’tis the nearest kin to heaven ; 
 It makes men look like gods : the best of men 
 That e’er wore earth about him, was a sufferer, 
 
 A soft, meek, patient, humble, tranquil spirit, 
 
 The first true gentleman that ever breathed. 
 
 Decker. 
 
 E’en the best must own, 
 Patience and resignation are the pillars 
 Of human peace on earth.— Young. 
 
 2651. PATIENCE. Victory of 
 
 Patience is more oft the exercise 
 Of saints, the trial of their fortitude ; 
 
 Making them each his own deliverer, 
 
 And victor over all 
 
 That tyranny or fortune can inflict .—Milton. 
 
 2652. PATIENT LOVE. Christ’s example of 
 
 What grace, O Lord, and beauty shone 
 Around Thy steps below ! 
 
 What patient love was seen in all 
 Thy life and death of woe ! 
 
 For ever on Thy burden’d heart 
 A weight of sorrow hung ; 
 
 Yet no ungentle murmuring word 
 Escaped Thy silent tongue 
 
 Thy foes might hate, despise, revile, 
 
 Thy friends unfaithful prove ; 
 
 Unwearied in forgiveness still, 
 
 Thy heart could only love. 
 
 Oh ! give us hearts to love like Thee,— 
 
 Like Thee, O Lord, to grieve 
 Far more for others’ sins, than all 
 The wrongs that we receive. 
 
PA TRI0T1SM 
 
 5i7 
 
 PA TRIOTISM 
 
 One with Thyself, may every eye 
 I11 us, Thy brethren, see 
 That gentleness and grace that spring 
 From union, Lord with Thee. 
 
 2653. PATRIOTISM. Innate 
 
 But where to find the happiest spot below, 
 Who can direct, when all pretend to know ? 
 The shuddering tenant of the frigid zone 
 Boldly proclaims the happiest spot his own ; 
 Extols the treasures of his stormy seas. 
 
 And his long nights of revelry and ease : 
 
 The naked negro, panting at the line, 
 
 Boasts of his golden sands and palmy wine, 
 Basks in the glare, or stems the tepid wave, 
 And thanks his gods for all the good they gave. 
 Such is the patriot’s boast, where’er we roam, 
 His first, best country, ever is at home. 
 
 And yet, perhaps, if countries we compare, 
 
 And estimate the blessings which they share, 
 Though patriots flatter, still shall wisdom find 
 An equal portion dealt to all mankind; 
 
 As different good, by art or nature given, 
 
 To different nations make their blessings even. 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 2654. PATRIOTISM. Lack of 
 
 Breathes there the man with soul so dead 
 Who never to himself hath said, 
 
 This is my own, my native land ! 
 
 Whose heart hath ne’er within him burn’d, 
 As home his footsteps he hath turn’d 
 From wandering on a foreign strand ! 
 
 If such there breathe, go, mark him well; 
 For him no minstrel raptures swell; 
 
 High though his titles, proud his name, 
 Boundless his wealth as wish can claim, 
 Despite those titles, power, and pelf, 
 
 The wretch, concentred all in self, 
 
 Living, shall forfeit fair renown, 
 
 And, doubly dying, shall go down 
 To the vile dust from whence he sprung, 
 Unwept, unhonour’d, and unsung.— Scott. 
 
 2655. PATRIOTISM. Maxim of 
 
 That grounded maxim, 
 So rife and celebrated in the mouths 
 Of wisest men, that to the public good 
 Private respects must yield.— Milton. 
 
 2656. PATRIOTISM. Sacrifices of 
 
 Ccilendaro. But if we fail — 
 
 Bcrtuccio. They never fail who die 
 In a great cause : the block may soak their gore; 
 
 Their heads may sodden in the sun ; their limbs 
 Be strung to city gates and castle walls— 
 
 But still their spirit walks abroad. Though years 
 Elapse, and others share as dark a doom 
 They but augment the deep and sweeping thoughts 
 Which overpower all others, and conduct 
 The world at last to freedom.— Byron. 
 
 2657. PATRIOTISM. Shrines of 
 
 How sleep the brave, who sink to rest 
 By all their country’s wishes bless’d ! 
 
 When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, 
 
 Returns to deck their hallow’d mould, 
 
 She thei-e shall dress a sweeter sod 
 Than Fancy’s feet have ever trod. 
 
 By fairy hands their knell is rung ; 
 
 By forms unseen their dirge is sung ; 
 
 There Honour comes, a pilgrim grey, 
 
 To bless the turf that wraps their clay ; 
 
 And Freedom shall awhile repair, 
 
 To dwell a weeping hermit there !— Collins. 
 
 2658. PATRIOTISM. Universal 
 
 There is a land, of every land the pride, 
 
 Beloved by Heaven o’er all the world beside, 
 
 Where brighter suns dispense serener light, 
 
 And milder moons imparadise the night; 
 
 A land of beauty, virtue, valour, truth, 
 
 Time-tutor’d age, and love-exalted youth : 
 
 The wandering mariner, whose eye explores 
 The wealthiest isles, the most enchanting shores, 
 Views not a realm so bountiful and fair, 
 
 Nor breathes the spirit of a purer air. 
 
 In every clime, the magnet of his soul, 
 
 Touch’d by remembrance, trembles to that pole ; 
 
 For in this land of Heaven’s peculiar race, 
 
 The heritage of nature’s noblest grace, 
 
 There is a spot of earth supremely blest, 
 
 A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest, 
 
 Where man, creation’s tyrant, casts aside 
 His sword and sceptre, pageantry and pride. 
 
 While in his soften’d looks benignly blend 
 The sire, the son, the husband, brother, friend. 
 
 Here woman reigns ; the mother, daughter, wife, 
 Strew with fresh flowers the narrow way of life ; 
 
 In the clear heaven of her delightful eye. 
 
 An angel-guard of love and graces lie ; 
 
 Around her knees domestic duties meet, 
 
 And fireside pleasures gambol at her feet. 
 
 ‘ Where shall that land, that spot of earth, be found ? ’ 
 Art thou a man ?—a patriot ?—look around ; 
 
 Oh, thou shalt find, howe’er thy footsteps roam, 
 That land thy country, and that spot thy home ! 
 
 Man, through all ages of revolving time, 
 Unchanging man, in every varying clime, 
 
PATRIOTS 
 
 518 
 
 PA UPER 
 
 Deems his own land of every land the pride, 
 
 Beloved by Heaven o’er all the world beside ; 
 
 His home the spot of earth supremely blest, 
 
 A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest. 
 
 Ja??ies Montgomery. 
 
 2659. PATRIOTS. 
 
 Patriots, in peace, assert the people’s right, 
 With noble stubbornness resisting might. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 All private virtue is the public fund : 
 
 As that abounds, the state decays or thrives : 
 
 Each should contribute to the general stock. 
 
 And who lends most is most his country’s friend. 
 
 Jephson. 
 
 Leonidas and Washington, 
 Whose every battle-field is holy ground, 
 
 Which breathes of nations saved, not worlds un¬ 
 done ; 
 
 How sweetly on the ear such echoes sound ! 
 
 While the mere victors may appal or stun 
 The servile and the vain, such names will be 
 A watchword till the Future shall be free.— Byron. 
 
 What constitutes a state ? 
 
 Not high-raised battlement or labour’d mound, 
 Thick wall or moated gate ; 
 
 Not cities proud with spires and turrets crown’d ; 
 
 ■ Not bays and broad-arm’d ports. 
 
 Where, laughing at the storm, rich navies ride ; 
 
 Not starr’d and spangled courts 
 Where low-brow’d baseness wafts perfume to pride. 
 
 No :—men, high-minded men, 
 
 With powers as far above dull brutes endued, 
 
 In forest, brake, or den, 
 
 As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude ; 
 
 Men, who their duties know, 
 
 But know their rights, and knowing, dare maintain, 
 Prevent the long-aim’d blow, 
 
 And crush the tyrant, while they rend the chain:— 
 These constitute a state.— Sir William Jones. 
 
 2660. PATTERN. Neglecting the 
 
 A weaver sat one day at his loom, 
 
 Among the colours bright, 
 
 With the pattern for his copying 
 Hung fair and plain in sight. 
 
 But the weaver’s thoughts were wandering 
 Away on a distant track. 
 
 As he threw the shuttle in his hand 
 Wearily forward and back. 
 
 And he turn’d his dim eyes to the ground, 
 
 And tears fell on the woof, 
 
 For his thoughts, alas ! were not with his home, 
 Nor the wife beneath its roof; 
 
 When her voice recall’d him suddenly 
 To himself, as sadly she said : 
 
 ‘ Ah, woe is me ! for your work is spoil’d, 
 
 And what will we do for bread ? ’ 
 
 And then the weaver look’d, and saw 
 His work must be undone ; 
 
 For the threads were wrong, and the colours dimm’d, 
 Where the bitter tears had run. 
 
 ‘ Alack, alack ! ’ said the weaver, 
 
 ‘ And this had all been right 
 
 If I had not look’d at my work, but kept 
 The pattern in my sight! ’ 
 
 Ah ! sad it was for the weaver, 
 
 And sad for his luckless wife ; 
 
 And sad it will be for us if we say, 
 
 At the end of our task of life, 
 
 ‘ The colours that we had to weave 
 Were bright in our early years ; 
 
 But we wove the tissue wrong, and stain’d 
 The woof with bitter tears. 
 
 ‘ We wove a web of doubt and fear— 
 
 Not faith, and hope, and love—- 
 
 Because we look’d at our work, and not 
 At our Pattern up above! ’—Phoebe Carey. 
 
 2661. PAUPER. Death of a 
 
 T read softly—bow the head— 
 
 In reverent silence bow— 
 
 No passing bell doth toll, 
 
 Yet an immortal soul 
 Is passing now. 
 
 Stranger ! however great, 
 
 With lowly reverence bow ; 
 
 There’s one in that poor shed— 
 
 One by that paltry bed— 
 
 Greater than thou. 
 
 Beneath that beggar’s roof, 
 
 Lo ! Death doth keep his state. 
 
 Enter, no crowds attend ; 
 
 Enter, no guards defend 
 This palace gate. 
 
 That pavement, damp and cold, 
 
 No smiling courtiers tread ; 
 
 One silent woman stands, 
 
 Lifting with meagre hand* 
 
 A dying head. 
 
 No mingling voices sound— 
 
 An infant wail alone ; 
 
 A sob suppress’d—again 
 
 That short deep gasp, and then— 
 
 The parting groan. 
 
PAUPER 
 
 519 
 
 PEACE 
 
 O change ! O wondrous change ! 
 
 Burst are the prison bars— 
 
 This moment there so low, 
 
 So agonized, and now 
 Beyond the stars. 
 
 O change ! stupendous change ! 
 
 There lies the soulless clod ; 
 
 The sun eternal breaks, 
 
 The new immortal wakes— 
 
 Wakes with his God.— Caroline Bowles. 
 
 2662. PAUPER. Funeral of a 
 
 There’s a grim one-horse hearse in a jolly round 
 trot— 
 
 To the churchyard a pauper is going, I wot; 
 
 The road it is rough, and the hearse has no springs; 
 And hark to the dirge which the mad driver sings : 
 Rattle his bones over the stones ! 
 
 He's only a pauper whom nobody owns ! 
 
 D *' 
 
 Oh, where are the mourners? Alas ! there are none ; 
 He has left not a gap in the world, now he’s gone— 
 Not a tear in the eye of child, woman, or man; 
 
 To the grave with his carcass as fast as you can : 
 Rattle his bones over the stones / 
 
 He's only a pauper whom nobody owns ! 
 
 What a jolting, and creaking, and splashing, and 
 din! 
 
 The whip, how it cracks ! and the wheels, how they 
 spin ! 
 
 How the dirt, right and left, o’er the hedges is hurl’d ; 
 The pauper at length makes a noise in the world! 
 Rattle his bones over the stones ! 
 
 He’s only a pauper whom nobody owns ! 
 
 Poor pauper defunct! he has made some approach 
 To gentility, now that he’s stretch’d in a coach! 
 
 He’s taking a drive in his carriage at last; 
 
 But it will not be long, if he goes on so fast : 
 
 Rattle his bones over the stones l 
 
 He's only a pauper whom nobody owns ! 
 
 You bumpkins ! who stare at your brother convey d, 
 Behold what respect to a cloddy is paid ! 
 
 And be joyful to think, when by death you’re laid 
 low, 
 
 You’ve a chance to the grave like a gemman to go ! 
 Rattle his bones over the stones ! 
 
 He s only a pauper whom nobody owns ! 
 
 But a truce to this strain; for my soul it is sad, 
 
 To think that a heart in humanity clad 
 Should make, like the brutes, such a desolate end, 
 And depart from the light without leaving a friend ! 
 Bear soft his bones over the stones ! 
 
 Though a pauper , he's one whom his Maker yet 
 owns l — Hood. 
 
 2663. PEACE : at the Birth of Christ. 
 
 No war or battle’s sound 
 Was heard the world around : 
 
 The idle spear and shield were high up hung, 
 
 The hooked chariot stood 
 Unstain’d with hostile blood, 
 
 The trumpet spake not to the armed throng ; 
 
 And kings sat still, with awe-full eye, 
 
 As if they surely knew their sovereign Lord was by. 
 
 But peaceful was the night 
 Wherein the Prince of Light 
 His reign of peace upon the earth began : 
 
 The winds, with wonder whist, 
 
 Smoothly the waters kiss’d, 
 
 Whispering new joys to the mild ocean, 
 
 Who now hath quite forgot to rave, 
 
 While birds of calm sat brooding on the charmed 
 wave.— Milton. 
 
 2664. PEACE. Blessings of 
 
 Peace, 
 
 Dear nurse of arts, plenties, and joyful birth. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 How strangely active are the arts of peace, 
 
 Whose restless motions less than wars do cease : 
 Peace is not freed from labour, but from noise; 
 And war more force, but not more pains, employs. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 Oh, first of human blessings! and supreme ! 
 
 Fair Peace ! how lovely, how delightful thou ! 
 
 By whose wide tie the kindred sons of men 
 Live, brothers like, in amity combined,’ 
 
 And unsuspicious faith ; while honest toil 
 Gives every joy, and to those joys a right 
 Which idle, barbarous rapine but usurps. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 O beauteous Peace ! 
 
 Sweet union of a state ! what else but thou 
 Gives safety, strength, and glory to a people ? 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 Oh, Peace ! thou source and soul of social life ; 
 Beneath whose calm inspiring influence, 
 
 Science his views enlarges, Art refines, 
 
 And swelling Commerce opens all her ports ; 
 
 Blest be the man divine, who gives us thee ! 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 2665. PEACE. Christ’s 
 
 Fierce was the wild billow, 
 
 Dark was the night, 
 
 Oars labour’d heavily, 
 
 Foam glitter’d white, 
 
PEACE 
 
 520 
 
 PEACE 
 
 Trembled the mariners, 
 
 Peril was high ; 
 
 Then said the God of God— 
 
 ‘ Peace ! It is I.’ 
 
 Ridge of the mountain wave, 
 
 Lower thy crest! 
 
 Wail of Euroclydon, 
 
 Be thou at rest! 
 
 Sorrow can never be, 
 
 Darkness must fly, 
 
 Where saith the Light of Light— 
 
 ‘ Peace ! It is I.’ 
 
 Jesu, Deliverer, 
 
 Come Thou to me : 
 
 Soothe Thou my voyaging 
 Over life’s sea ; 
 
 Thou, when the storm of death 
 Roars, sweeping by, 
 
 Whisper, Thou Truth of Truth— 
 
 ‘ Peace ! It is I. 5 
 
 Anatolius , tr. by J. M. Neale. 
 
 2666. PEACE. Christ’s bequest of 
 
 Ere our dear Saviour spoke the parting word 
 To those who loved Him best when here below, 
 While deep emotion every bosom stirr’d, 
 
 He said, ‘ My Peace I give you ere I go ! ’ 
 
 His Peace. Sweet Peace ! As falls the summer 
 dew 
 
 On drooping flowers, so fell those words of cheer 
 Upon the earnest hearts that dimly knew 
 
 What they, like their dear Lord, must suffer here. 
 
 His Peace—Christ’s Peace ! O gift most rare and 
 strange ! 
 
 . Never was aught so precious given before ! 
 
 Vain trifler he who would that gift exchange 
 For all the riches of Golconda’s shore ! 
 
 His Peace—His blessed Peace ! Not Joy, the bright 
 Bewildering sprite that charm’d their early years, 
 When, with youth’s roses crown’d, and clad in light, 
 Her radiant eyes had ne’er been dimm’d by tears ; 
 
 But Peace that walks with Patience, side by side, 
 Bearing Heaven’s seal upon her pale, calm face : 
 Child of Submission, whatsoe’er betide, 
 
 She wears the white robes of celestial grace. 
 
 O Christ ! whose human heart remembers still 
 The pangs from which death only gave release, 
 Strange griefs, strange fears, our yearning souls must 
 fill, 
 
 Withhold what else Thou wilt—but give us Peace! 
 
 Mrs Dorr. 
 
 2667. PEACE : comes only from Christ. 
 
 When across the heart deep waves of sorrow 
 Break, as on a dry and barren shore; 
 
 When hope glistens with no bright to-morrow, 
 
 And the storm seems sweeping evermore ; 
 
 When the cup of every earthly gladness 
 Bears no taste of the life-giving stream ; 
 
 And high hopes, as though to mock our sadness, 
 Fade and die as in some fitful dream,— 
 
 Who shall hush the weary spirit’s chiding ? 
 
 Who the aching void within shall fill ? 
 
 Who shall whisper of a peace abiding, 
 
 And each surging billow calmly still ? 
 
 Only He whose wounded heart was broken 
 With the bitter cross and thorny crown; 
 
 Whose dear love glad words of joy had spoken ; 
 Who His life for us laid meekly down. 
 
 Blessed Healer! all our burdens lighten ; 
 
 Give us peace, Thine own sweet peace, we pi ay ; 
 Keep us near Thee till the morn shall brighten, 
 And all mists and shadows flee away —Alford. 
 
 2668. PEACE: comes only from Christ. 
 
 Life’s mystery—deep, restless, as the ocean • 
 
 Hath surged and wail’d for ages to and fro ; 
 Earth’s generations watch its ceaseless motion 
 As in and out its hollow moanings flow. 
 
 Shivering and yearning by that unknown sea, 
 
 Let my soul calm itself, O Christ, in Thee ! 
 
 Life’s sorrows, with inexorable power, 
 
 Sweep desolation o’er this mortal plain ; 
 
 And human loves and hopes fly as the chaff 
 Borne by the whirlwind from the ripen’d grain. 
 
 Ah! when before that blast my hopes all flee, 
 
 Let my soul calm itself, O Christ, in Thee ! 
 
 Between the mysteries of death and life 
 
 Thou standest, loving, guiding, not explaining ; 
 We ask, and Thou art silent ; yet we gaze, 
 
 And our charm’d hearts forget their drear com¬ 
 plaining. 
 
 No crushing fate, no stony destiny, 
 
 O Lamb that hast been slain, we find in Thee! 
 
 The many waves of thought, the mighty tides, 
 
 The ground-swell that rolls up from other lands, 
 From far-off worlds, from dim, eternal shores, 
 Whose echo dashes on life’s wave-worn strands, 
 This vague, dark tumult of the inner sea 
 Grows calm, grows bright, O risen Lord, in Thee ! 
 
PEACE 
 
 521 
 
 PEACE 
 
 Thy pierced hand guides the mysterious wheels ; 
 
 Thy thorn-crown’d brow now wears the crown of 
 power; 
 
 And, when the dread enigma presseth sore, 
 
 Thy patient voice saith, ‘ Watch with Me one 
 hour. ’ 
 
 As sinks the moaning river in the sea 
 In silver peace, so sinks my soul in Thee ! 
 
 Harriet Beecher Stowe. 
 
 2669. PEACE. Divine 
 
 Peace upon peace, like wave on wave, 
 
 This is the portion that I crave ; 
 
 The peace of God which passeth thought, 
 
 The peace of Christ which changeth not. 
 
 Peace like the river’s gentle flow, 
 
 Peace like the morning’s silent glow, 
 
 From day to day, in love supplied, 
 
 An endless and unebbing tide. 
 
 Peace through the night and through the day, 
 Peace through all windings of our way, 
 
 In pain, and toil, and weariness, 
 
 A deep and everlasting peace. 
 
 O King of peace, this peace bestow 
 U pon. a stranger here below ; 
 
 O God of peace, Thy peace impart 
 To every troubled, trembling heart.— Bonar. 
 
 2670. PEACE. Glory of 
 
 A peace is of the nature of a conquest; 
 
 For then both parties nobly are subdued, 
 
 And neither party loser.— Shakespeare. 
 
 ’Tis less to conquer than to make wars cease, 
 
 And, without fighting, awe the world to peace. 
 
 Halifax. 
 
 Peace, greatness best becomes. Calm power doth 
 guide 
 
 With a far more imperious stateliness, 
 
 Than all the swords of violence can do : 
 
 And easier gains those ends she tends unto. Daniel. 
 
 2671. PEACE : in death 
 
 Sure the last end 
 
 Of the good man is peace. How calm his exit! 
 Night dews fall not more calmly on the ground, 
 
 Nor weary worn-out winds expire so soft.— Blair. 
 
 2672. PEACE. Love and 
 
 There is a story told 
 
 In Eastern tents, when autumn nights grow cold, 
 
 And round the fire the Mongol shepherds sit 
 With grave responses listening unto it : 
 
 Once, on the errands of his mercy bent, 
 
 Buddha, the holy and benevolent, 
 
 Met a fell monster, huge and fierce of look, 
 
 Whose awful voice the hills and forests shook. 
 
 ‘ O son of peace ! ’ the giant cried, ‘ thy fate 
 Is seal’d at last, and love shall yield to hate.’ 
 
 The unarm’d Buddha looking, with no trace 
 Of fear or anger, in the monster’s face, 
 
 With pity said : ‘ Poor fiend, even thee I love.’ 
 
 Lo ! as he spake, the sky-tall terror sank 
 To handbreadth size ; the huge abhorrence shrank 
 Into the form and fashion of a dove ; 
 
 And where the thunder of its rage was heard, 
 Brooding above him sweetly sang the bird : 
 
 ‘ Hate hath no harm for love,’ so ran the song, 
 
 ‘ And peace unweapon’d conquers every wrong ! 
 
 Whittier. 
 
 2673. PEACE. Perfect 
 
 When winds are raging o’er the upper ocean, 
 
 And billows wild contend with angry roar, 
 
 ’Tis said, far down beneath the wild commotion, 
 
 That peaceful stillness reigneth evermore. 
 
 Far, far beneath, the noise of tempest dieth, 
 
 And silver waves chime ever peacefully : 
 
 And no rude storm, how fierce soe’er it flieth, 
 Disturbs the sabbath of that deeper sea. 
 
 So to the heart that knows Thy love, O Purest! 
 
 There is a temple sacred evermore, 
 
 And all the babble of life’s angry voices 
 Dies in hush’d stillness at its sacred door. 
 
 Far, far away, the roar of passion dieth, 
 
 And loving thoughts rise calm and peacefully ; 
 And no rude storm, how fierce soe’er it flieth, 
 Disturbs that deeper rest, O Lord ! in Thee. 
 
 O Rest of rests ! O Peace serene, eternal! 
 
 Thou ever livest, and Thou changest never ; 
 
 And in the secret of Thy presence dwelleth 
 Fulness of joy, for ever and for ever. 
 
 Harriet Beecher Stowe. 
 
 2674 PEACE. Perfect : not far off. 
 
 Oh for the peace which floweth as a river, 
 
 Making life’s desert places bloom and smile ! 
 
 Oh for the faith to grasp heaven’s bright ‘ for ever,’ 
 Amid the shadows of earth’s ‘ little while.’ 
 
 ‘ A little while,’ for patient vigil-keeping, 
 
 To face the stern, to wrestle with the strong; 
 
 ‘A little while,’ to sow the seed with weeping, 
 
 Then bind the sheaves, and sing the harvest-song. 
 
PEACE 
 
 522 
 
 PEACE 
 
 ‘ A little while, ’ to wear the weeds of sadness, 
 
 To pace with weary step through miry ways ; 
 
 Then to pour forth the fragrant oil of gladness, 
 
 And clasp the girdle round the robe of praise. 
 
 ‘A little while,’ ’midst shadow and illusion, 
 
 To strive, by faith, love’s mysteries to spell ; 
 
 Then read each dark enigma’s bright solution, 
 
 Then hail sight’s verdict, ‘ He doth all things well! ’ 
 
 ‘ A little while,’ the earthen pitcher taking 
 To wayside brooks, from far-off fountains fed ; 
 
 Then the cool lip its thirst for ever slaking 
 Beside the fulness of the Fountain Head. 
 
 ‘ A little while,’ to keep the oil from failing, 
 
 ‘A little while,’ faith’s flickering lamp to trim ; 
 
 And then, the Bridegroom’s coming footsteps hailing, 
 To haste to meet Him with the bridal hymn. 
 
 And He, who is Himself the Gift and Giver, 
 
 The future glory and the present smile, . 
 
 With the bright promise of the glad ‘for ever’ 
 
 Will light the shadows of the ‘little while.’ 
 
 Mrs Crezvdson. 
 
 2675. PEACE. Prayer for 
 
 Jesus, pitying Saviour, hear me ; 
 
 Draw Thou near me ; j 
 
 Turn Thee, Lord, in grace to me, 
 
 For Thou knowest all my sorrow ; 
 
 Night and morrow 
 Doth my cry go up to Thee. 
 
 Peace I cannot find : oh, take me, 
 
 Lord, and make me 
 From the yoke of evil free ; 
 
 Calm this longing never-sleeping, 
 
 Still my weeping, 
 
 Grant me hope once more in Thee. 
 
 Thou, my God and King, hast known me, 
 
 Yet hast shown me 
 True and loving is Thy will; 
 
 Though my heart from Thee oft ranges, 
 
 Through its changes, 
 
 Lord, Thy love is faithful still. 
 
 Here I bring my will, oh take it; 
 
 Thine, Lord, make it; 
 
 Calm this troubled heart of mine : 
 
 In Thy strength I too may conquer; 
 
 Wait no longer ; 
 
 Show in me Thy grace Divine. — Tersteegcn. 
 
 2676. PEACE. Prophecies of 
 
 No more shall nation against nation rise, 
 
 Nor ardent warriors meet with hateful eyes, 
 
 Nor fields with gleaming steel be cover'd o’er, 
 
 The brazen trumpets kindle rage no more ; 
 
 But useless lances into scythes shall bend, 
 
 And the broad falchion in a ploughshare end. — Pope. 
 
 Down the dark future, through long generations, 
 
 The echoing sounds grow fainter, and then cease ; 
 And like a bell with solemn sweet vibrations, 
 
 I hear once more the voice of Christ say ‘ Peace ! ’ 
 
 Peace ! and no longer from its brazen portals 
 The blast of war’s great organ shakes the skies ; 
 But, beautiful as songs of the immortals, 
 
 The holiest melodies of love arise.— Longfellcnv. 
 
 ‘ Peace, ’ shall the world outwearied ever see 
 Its universal reign? Will states, will kings, 
 
 Put down these murderous and unholy things, 
 Which fill the earth with blood and misery ? 
 
 Will nations learn that love—not enmity— 
 
 Is heaven’s first lesson—which beneath the wings 
 Of mercy, brooding over land and sea, 
 
 Fills earth with joy by its soft ministerings ? 
 ’Twere a sad prospect—’twere a vista dark 
 As midnight—could this wearied mortal eye, 
 Through the dim mists that veil futurity, 
 
 Discern not that heaven-bright though distant spark, 
 Lighted by prophecy, whose ray sublime 
 Sheds a soft gleam of hope o’er the dull path of time. 
 
 I hate that noisy drum, it is a sound 
 
 That tells of war, of bondage, and I blush 
 That liberty had ever cause to rush 
 Into a warrior’s arms ; that right e’er found 
 Asylum in the furious field. Not so 
 The holy crowns of genuine glory grow ; 
 
 Not there should they who bear the badge serene 
 Of Him who was the Prince of Peace, be seen : 
 
 Can such His faithful followers be ?—Oh no ! 
 
 His laurels are not drench’d in blood, but green 
 And beautiful as spring His arms are love 
 And mercy and forgiveness ; and with them 
 He rules the nations’ mighty destinies 
 And gently leads us to our homes above. 
 
 Bowring. 
 
 2677. PEACE. Settled 
 
 I hear the words of love, 
 
 I gaze upon the blood, 
 
 I see the mighty sacrifice, 
 
 And I have peace with God. 
 
 ’Tis everlasting peace ! 
 
 Sure as Jehovah’s name ; 
 
 ’Tis stable as His steadfast throne, 
 
 For evermore the same. 
 
 The clouds may go and come, 
 
 And storms may sweep my sky, 
 
 This blood-seal’d friendship changes not, 
 
 The cross is ever nigh. 
 
PEACE 
 
 523 
 
 PEASANTS 
 
 My love is ofttimes low, 
 
 My joy still ebbs and flows, 
 
 But peace with Him remains the same, 
 
 No change Jehovah knows. 
 
 I change, He changes not, 
 
 The Christ can never die ! 
 
 His love, not mine, the resting-place, 
 
 His truth, not mine, the tie ! 
 
 The cross still stands unchanged, 
 
 Though heaven is now His home ; 
 
 The mighty stone is roll’d away, 
 
 But yonder is His tomb ! 
 
 And yonder is my peace, 
 
 The grave of all my woes ! 
 
 I know the Son of God has come, 
 
 I know He died and rose ! 
 
 I know He liveth now 
 
 At God’s right hand above, 
 
 I know the throne on which He sits, 
 
 I know His truth and love !— Bonar. 
 
 2678. PEACE : undervalued. 
 
 Men are unhappy when they know not how 
 To value peace without its loss, 
 
 And from the want learn how to use 
 What they could so ill manage when enjoy’d. 
 
 Hoiva 7 'd. 
 
 2679. PEACE. Waiting for 
 
 Amid the darkness, when the storm 
 Swept fierce and wild o’er Galilee, 
 
 Was seen of old, dear Lord, Thy form, 
 
 All calmly walking on the sea ; 
 
 And raging elements were still, 
 
 Obedient to Thy sovereign will. 
 
 So on life’s restless, heaving wave, 
 
 When night and Storm my sky o’ercast, 
 
 Oft hast Thou come to cheer and save, 
 
 Hast changed my fear to joy at last; 
 
 Thy voice hath bid the tumult cease, 
 
 And soothed my throbbing heart to peace. 
 
 But ah ! too soon my fears return, 
 
 And dark mistrust disturbs anew ; 
 
 What smother’d fires within yet burn 
 My days of peace, alas, how few ! 
 
 These heart-throes—shall they ne’er be past ? 
 These strifes—shall they for ever last ? 
 
 I heed not danger, toil, or pain, 
 
 Care not how hard the storm may beat, 
 
 If in my heart Thy peace may reign, 
 
 And faith and patience keep their seat; 
 
 If strength Divine may nerve my soul, 
 
 And love my every thought control. 
 
 Oh may that voice that quell’d the sea, 
 
 And laid the surging waves to rest, 
 
 Speak in my spirit, set me free 
 
 From passions that disturb my breast; 
 
 Jesus, I yield me to Thy will, 
 
 And wait to hear Thy ‘ Peace, be still! ’ 
 
 Ray Palmer. 
 
 2680. PEACE AND JOY : how they are ob¬ 
 
 tained. 
 
 Oft when of God we ask 
 For fuller, happier life, 
 
 He sets us some new task, 
 
 Involving care and strife ; 
 
 Is this the boon for which we sought ? 
 
 Has prayer new trouble on us brought ? 
 
 This is, indeed, the boon, 
 
 Though strange to us it seems ; 
 
 We pierce the rock, and soon 
 The blessing on us streams ; 
 
 For when we are the most athirst, 
 
 Then the clear waters on us burst. 
 
 We toil as in a field 
 
 Wherein, to us unknown, 
 
 A treasure lies conceal’d, 
 
 Which may be all our own ; 
 
 And shall we of the toil complain 
 That speedily will bring us gain ? 
 
 We dig the wells of life, 
 
 And God the water gives ; 
 
 We win our way by strife ; 
 
 Then He within us lives ; 
 
 And only war could make us meet 
 
 For peace so sacred and so sweet.— Lynch. 
 
 2681. PEASANTS. 
 
 Ill fares the land, to hast’ning ills a prey, 
 
 Where wealth accumulates and men decay : 
 Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade ; 
 
 A breath can make them, as a breath has made ; 
 But a bold peasantry, their country’s pride, 
 
 When once destroy’d can never be supplied. 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 Unknown to them, when sensual pleasures cloy, 
 
 To fill the languid pause with finer joy ; 
 
 Unknown those powers that raise the soul to flame, 
 Catch every nerve, and vibrate through the frame. 
 Their level life is but a mouldering fire, 
 
 Unquench’d by want, unfann’d by strong desire ; 
 
PEN 
 
 PERFECTION 
 
 524 
 
 Unfit for raptures, or, if raptures cheer, 
 
 On some high festival of once a year. 
 
 In wild excess the vulgar breast takes fire, 
 
 Till, buried in debauch, the bliss expire. 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 Far from the madd’ning crowd’s ignoble strife, 
 
 Their sober wishes never learn’d to stray ; 
 
 Along the cool sequester’d vale of life 
 
 They kept the noiseless tenor of their way. 
 
 Gray. 
 
 November chill blows loud wi’ angry sugh ; 
 
 The short’ning winter-day draws near a close ; 
 
 The miry beasts retreating frae the pleugh ; 
 
 The black’ning trains o’ craws to their repose : 
 
 The toil-worn cotter frae his labour goes. 
 
 This night his weekly moil is at an end, 
 
 Collects his spades, his mattocks, and his hoes, 
 Hoping the mom at ease and rest to spend, 
 
 And weary, o’er the moor, his course does homeward 
 bend. — Burns. 
 
 2682. PEN. The 
 
 The poet’s pen is the true divining rod 
 
 Which trembles towards the inner founts of feeling; 
 
 Bringing to light and use, else hid from all, 
 
 The many sweet clear sources which we have 
 Of good and beauty in our own deep bosoms ; 
 
 And marks the variations of all mind 
 As does the needle.— Bailey. 
 
 Beneath the rule of men entirely great, 
 
 The pen is mightier than the sword. Behold 
 The arch-enchanter’s wand ! itself a nothing ! 
 
 But taking sorcery from the master hand. 
 
 To paralyze the Caesars, and to strike 
 The loud earth breathless !— Bulwer. 
 
 2683. PENITENCE : exemplified in the woman 
 who had been a sinner. 
 
 She sat and wept beside His feet. The weight 
 Of sin oppress’d her heart ; for all the blame, 
 
 And the poor malice of the worldly shame, 
 
 To her was past, extinct, and out of date. 
 
 Only the sin remain’d, the leprous state ; 
 
 She would be melted by the heat of love 
 By fires far fiercer than are blown to prove 
 And purge the silver we adulterate. 
 
 She sat and wept, and with her untress’d hair 
 Still wiped the feet she was so blest to touch ; 
 
 And He wiped off the soiling of despair 
 From her sweet soul, because she loved so much. 
 
 I am a sinner, full of doubts and fears : 
 
 Make me a humble thing of love and tears ! 
 
 Hartley Coleridge. 
 
 2684. PENITENCE. Prayer of 
 
 My God, oh let me call Thee mine, 
 
 Weak, wretched sinner though I be ; 
 
 My trembling soul would fain be Thine, 
 
 My feeble faith still clings to Thee ! 
 
 Not only for the past I grieve, 
 
 The future fills me with dismay ; 
 
 Unless Thou hasten to relieve, 
 
 Thy suppliant is a castaway ! 
 
 I cannot say my faith is strong, 
 
 I dare not hope my love is great : 
 
 Eut strength and love to Thee belong ; 
 
 Oh do not leave me desolate 1 
 
 I know I owe my all to Thee ; 
 
 Oh take the heart I cannot give ! 
 
 Do Thou my strength, my Saviour be, 
 
 And make me to Thy glory live. 
 
 A nne Bronte. 
 
 2685. PENITENCE. Tears of 
 
 The fruitless showers of worldly woe 
 Fall dark to earth and never rise ; 
 
 While tears that from repentance flow. 
 
 In bright exhalement reach the skies. 
 
 Moore . 
 
 2686. PEOPLE. The 
 
 The people like a headlong torrent go, 
 
 And every dam they break or overflow ; 
 
 But unopposed they either lose their force, 
 
 Or wind in volumes to their former course. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 Thus think the crowd, who, eager to engage, 
 Take quickly fire, and kindle into rage ; 
 
 Who ne’er consider, but without a pause 
 Make up in passion what they want in cause. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 2687. PERFECTION. Degree of 
 
 Press to the mark (the Spirit cries. 
 
 And cannot cry to saints in vain); 
 
 Ambitious of your calling’s prize, 
 
 The height of holiness attain. 
 
 Let down from heaven the ladder see, 
 
 And mount, till all the steps are past. 
 
 Perfection is the last degree, 
 
 Perfection is attain’d the last. 
 
 Charles Wesley. 
 
 2688. PERFECTION. Natural 
 
 To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, 
 
 To throw a perfume on the violet, 
 
 To smooth the ice, or add another hue 
 Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light 
 
PERFECTION 
 
 525 
 
 PERSEVERANCE 
 
 To seek the beauteous eye of Heaven to garnish, 
 
 Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.— Shakespeare. 
 
 2689. PERFECTION : not to be found. 
 
 Whoever thinks a perfect work to see, 
 
 Thinks what ne’er was, nor is, nor e’er shall be. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 2690. PERFECTION : reached through suffering. 
 
 Perfect through suffering ! Is this the path 
 My Saviour trod ? 
 
 And shall I shrink to follow Thee, 
 
 Thou Lamb of God ? 
 
 Perfect through suffering ! The heart may faint 
 Upon the road, 
 
 And flesh and spirit both may fail ; — 
 
 Yet hope in God. 
 
 Perfect through suffering ! The gold refined, 
 
 No dross remains, 
 
 And o’er the furnace watcheth One, 
 
 To guide the flames. 
 
 Perfect through suffering ! Is this the path 
 My Saviour trod ? 
 
 Then welcome be its fiery cross ; 
 
 It leads to God. 
 
 2691. PERFECTION : slowly attained. 
 
 Nature, in her productions, slow, aspires 
 
 By just degrees to reach perfection’s height. 
 
 Somerville. 
 
 So slow 
 
 The growth of what is excellent, so hard 
 T’ attain perfection in this nether world. 
 
 Covjper. 
 
 2692. PERFECTION : unexpectedly attained. 
 
 Many things impossible to thought 
 
 Have been by need to full perfection brought. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 2693. PERFECTION. Way of 
 
 Oh, how the thought of God attracts 
 And draws the heart from earth, 
 
 And sickens it of passing shows 
 And dissipating mirth ! 
 
 God only is the creature’s home ; 
 
 Though long and rough the road, 
 
 Yet nothing less can satisfy 
 The love that longs for God. 
 
 Oh ! utter but the name of God 
 Down in your heart of hearts, 
 
 And see how from the world at once 
 All tempting light departs. 
 
 A trusting heart, a yearning eye, 
 
 Can win their way above : 
 
 If mountains can be moved by faith, 
 
 Is there less power in love ? 
 
 How little of that road, my soul, 
 
 How little hast thou gone ! 
 
 Take heart, and let the thought of God 
 Allure thee farther on. 
 
 The freedom from all wilful sin, 
 
 The Christian’s daily task— 
 
 Oh ! these are graces far below 
 What longing love would ask. 
 
 Dole not thy duties out to God ; 
 
 But let thy hand be free : 
 
 Look long at Jesus : His sweet blood— 
 How was it dealt to thee ? 
 
 The perfect way is hard to flesh: 
 
 It is not hard to love. 
 
 If thou wert sick for want of God, 
 
 How swiftly wouldst thou move ! 
 
 Oh ! keep thy conscience sensitive ; 
 
 No inward token miss ; 
 
 And go where grace entices thee : 
 
 Perfection lies in this. 
 
 Be docile to thine unseen Guide ; 
 
 Love Him as He loves thee : 
 
 Faith and obedience are enough, 
 
 And thou a saint shalt be.— Faber. 
 
 « 
 
 2694. PERSECUTION. 
 
 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 improved by burning. 
 
 Praed. 
 
 2695. PERSEVERANCE. Call to 
 
 If aught obstruct thy course, yet stand not still, 
 But wind about till thou hast topp’d the hill 
 
 Denham. 
 
 Attempt the end, and never stand to doubt; 
 Nothing’s so hard, but search will find it out. 
 
 Herrick. 
 
 Come, labour on : 
 
 Who dares stand idle on the harvest plain, 
 
 While all around him waves the golden grain, 
 And every servant hears the Master say, 
 
 ‘ Go, work to-day ’ ? 
 
 Come, labour on : 
 
 The labourers are few, the field is wide, 
 
 New stations must be fill’d, and blanks supplied ; 
 From voices distant far, or near at home, 
 
 The call is ‘ Come.’ 
 
PERSEVERANCE 
 
 526 
 
 PHILOSOPHERS 
 
 Come, labour on : 
 
 The enemy is watching, night and day, 
 
 To sow the tares, to snatch the seed away : 
 
 While we in sleep our duty have forgot, 
 
 He slumber’d not. 
 
 Come, labour on : 
 
 No time for rest, till glows the western sky, 
 
 While the long shadows o’er our pathway lie, 
 
 And a glad sound comes with the setting sun, 
 
 ‘ Servants, well done ! ’ 
 
 Come, labour on : 
 
 The toil is pleasant, the reward is sure ; 
 
 Blessed are those who to the end endure ; 
 
 How full their joy, how deep their rest shall be, 
 
 O Lord, with Thee ! 
 
 2696. PERSEVERANCE. Christian 
 
 Toil on, faint not, keep watch and pray ; 
 
 Be wise the erring soul to win; 
 
 Go forth into the world’s highway, 
 
 Compel the wanderer to come in. 
 
 Toil on, and in thy toil rejoice ; 
 
 For toil comes rest, for exile home ; 
 
 Soon shalt thou hear the Bridegroom’s voice, 
 The midnight peal, Behold, I come !— Bonar. 
 
 2697. PERSEVERANCE : necessary. 
 
 Perseverance 
 
 Keeps honour bright. To have done, is to hang 
 Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail 
 In monumental mockery.— Shakespeare. 
 
 2698. PERSEVERANCE. Reward of 
 
 He who flies 
 
 In war or peace, who his great purpose yields, 
 
 He is the only villain of this world : 
 
 But he who labours firm and gains his point, 
 
 Be what it will, which crowns him with success, 
 He is the son of fortune and of fame 
 By those admired, those specious villains most, 
 That else had bellow’d out reproach against him. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 Hast thou attempted greatness ? Then go on ; 
 Back-turning slackens resolution.— Herrick. 
 
 Perseverance is a virtue 
 
 That wins each god-like act, and plucks success 
 E’en from the spear-proof crest of rugged danger. 
 
 Havarci. 
 
 2699. PHILANTHROPY. Reward of 
 
 Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase !) 
 Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace, 
 
 And saw within the moonlight in his room, 
 
 Making it rich and like a lily in bloom, 
 
 An angel writing in a book of gold : 
 
 Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, 
 
 And to the presence in the room he said, 
 
 ‘ What writest thou ? ’ The vision raised its head, 
 And, with a look made of all sweet accord, 
 
 Answer’d, ‘The names of those who love the Lord.’ 
 
 ‘ And is mine one ? ’ said Abou. ‘ Nay, not so,’ 
 Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low, 
 
 But cheerily still ; and said, ‘ I pray thee, then, 
 
 Write me as one that loves his fellow-men.’ 
 
 The angel wrote, and vanish’d. The next night 
 It came again, with a great wakening light, 
 
 And show’d the names whom love of God had bless’d, 
 And, lo ! Ben Adhem’s name led all the rest! 
 
 Leigh Hunt. 
 
 2700. PHILANTHROPY. Works of 
 
 From realm to realm, with cross or crescent crown’d, 
 Where’er mankind and misery are found, 
 
 O’er burning sands, deep waves, or wilds of snow, 
 Mild Howard journeying seeks the house of woe. 
 Down many a winding step to dungeons dank, 
 Where anguish wails aloud and fetters clank, 
 
 To caves bestrew’d with many a mouldering bone, 
 And cells whose echoes only learn to groan, 
 
 Where no kind bars a whispering friend disclose, 
 
 No sunbeam enters, and no zephyr blows ; 
 
 He treads, inemulous of fame or wealth, 
 
 Profuse of toil and prodigal of health ; 
 
 Leads stern-eyed Justice to the dark domains, 
 
 If not to sever, to relax the chains; 
 
 Gives to her babes the self-devoted wife, 
 
 To her fond husband liberty and life— 
 
 Onward he moves ! disease and death retire ; 
 
 And murmuring demons hate him and admire. 
 
 Darwin. 
 
 2701. PHILOSOPHERS. 
 
 Much learned dust 
 
 Involves the combatants, each claiming truth, 
 
 And truth disclaiming both. And thus they spend 
 The little wick of life’s poor shallow lamp 
 In playing tricks with nature, giving laws 
 To distant worlds, and trifling in their own. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 They give the reins to wandering thoughts, 
 
 Till, by their own perplexities involved, 
 
 They ravel more, still less resolved, 
 
 But never find self-satisfying solution.— Milton. 
 
 As rivers, though they bend and twine, 
 
 Still to the sea their course incline ; 
 
 Or as philosophers, who find 
 Some fav’rite system to their mind, 
 
PHILOSOPHY 
 
 527 
 
 PHILOSOPHY 
 
 In every point to make it fit 
 
 Will force all nature to submit.— Swift. 
 
 2702. PHILOSOPHY: baffled. 
 
 Survey the magnet’s sympathetic love, 
 
 That woos the yielding needle ; contemplate 
 The attractive amber’s power, invisible 
 Even to the mental eye ; or when the blow 
 Sent from the electric sphere assaults thy frame, 
 Show me the hand that dealt it! Baffled here 
 By his Omnipotence, Philosophy 
 Slowly her thoughts inadequate revolves, 
 
 And stands with all His circling wonders round her, 
 Like heavy Saturn, in th’ ethereal space, 
 
 Begirt with an inexplicable ring.— Smart. 
 
 2703. PHILOSOPHY. False 
 
 False philosophy inspires 
 Fallacious hope.— Milton. 
 
 2704. PHILOSOPHY. Incompleteness of 
 
 There are more things in heaven and earth, Ploratio, 
 Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.— Shakespeare. 
 
 2705. PHILOSOPHY. Instinctive 
 
 Behold 
 
 Where yon pellucid, populous hive presents 
 A yet uncopied model to the world ! 
 
 There Machiavel, in the reflecting glass, 
 
 May read himself a fool. The chemist there 
 May, with astonishment invidious, view 
 His toils out-done by each plebeian bee, 
 
 Who, at the royal mandate, on the wing, 
 
 From various herbs, and from discordant flowers, 
 
 A perfect harmony of sweets compounds. — Smart. 
 
 2706. PHILOSOPHY. Powerlessness of 
 
 I pray thee, peace ! I will be flesh and blood ; 
 For there was never yet philosopher 
 That could endure the toothache patiently, 
 However they have writ the style of gods, 
 
 And made a pish at chance and sufferance. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Alas ! had reason ever yet the power 
 To talk down grief, or bid the tortured wretch 
 Not feel his anguish? ’tis impossible ! 
 
 Whitehead. 
 
 Philosophy and Reason ! Oh, how vain 
 Their lessons to the feelings ! They but teach 
 To hide them deeper, and to show a calm 
 Unruffled surface to the idle gaze.— Miss Bogart. 
 
 2707. PHILOSOPHY. Province of 
 
 Philosophy consists not 
 In airy schemes, or idle speculations : 
 
 The rule and conduct of all social life 
 Is her great province. Not in lonely cells 
 Obscure she lurks, but holds her heavenly light 
 To senates and to kings, to guide their councils, 
 And teach them to reform and bless mankind. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 2708. PHILOSOPHY. Sweetness of 
 
 How charming is divine philosophy ! 
 
 Not harsh and crabbed, as dull fools suppose, 
 But musical as is Apollo’s lute, 
 
 And a perpetual feast of nectar’d sweets, 
 
 Where no crude surfeit reigns.— Milton. 
 
 2709. PHILOSOPHY. The Stoic 
 
 In lazy apathy let Stoics boast 
 Their virtue fix’d ; ’tis fixed as in frost, 
 Contracted all, retiring to the breast ; 
 
 But strength of mind is exercise, not rest.— Pope. 
 
 Such was the rigid Zeno’s plan 
 To form his philosophic man ; 
 
 Such were the modes he taught mankind 
 To weed the garden of the mind : 
 
 They tore away some weeds, ’tis true, 
 
 But all the flowers were ravish’d too.— Moore. 
 
 2710. PHILOSOPHY. Toils of 
 
 Philosophy 
 
 \ 
 
 Did much, refining and exalting man : 
 
 But could not nurse a single plant that bore 
 True happiness. From age to age she toil’d ; 
 
 Shed from her eyes the mist that dimm’d them still, 
 Look’d forth on man ; explored the wild and tame, 
 The savage and polite, the sea and land, 
 
 And starry heavens ; and then retired far back 
 To meditation’s silent shady seat; 
 
 And there sat pale, and thoughtfully, and weigh’d, 
 With wary, most exact, and scrupulous care, 
 
 Man’s nature, passions, hopes, propensities, 
 Relations, and pursuits, in reason’s scale ; 
 
 And search’d and weigh’d, and weigh’d and search’d 
 again, 
 
 And many a fair and goodly volume wrote, 
 
 That seem’d well worded too, wherein were found 
 Uncountable receipts, pretending each, 
 
 If carefully attended to, to cure 
 Mankind of folly ; to root out the briars, 
 
 And thorns, and weeds that choked the growth of 
 joy : 
 
 And showing, too, in plain and decent phrase, 
 
PHILOSOPHY 
 
 528 
 
 PIETY 
 
 Which sounded much like wisdom’s, how to plant, 
 To shelter, water, culture, prune, and rear 
 The tree of happiness ; and oft their plans 
 Were tried ; but still the fruit was green and sour. 
 
 Pollok. 
 
 2711. PHILOSOPHY. Value of 
 
 Serene Philosophy, 
 
 Effusive source of evidence and truth ! 
 
 Without thee what were unenlighten’d man ! 
 
 A savage roaring through the woods and wilds, 
 Rough clad, devoid of every finer art 
 And elegance of life. — Thomson. 
 
 2712. PHRENOLOGY. 
 
 For of the soul the body form doth take ; 
 
 For soul is form, and doth the body make. 
 
 Spenser. 
 
 Away with all doubt and misgiving ; 
 
 Now lovers must woo by the book— 
 
 There’s an end to all trick and deceiving, 
 
 No men can be caught by a look. 
 
 Bright eyes or a love-breeding dimple 
 No longer their witchery fling ; 
 
 That lover indeed must be simple 
 Who yields to so silly a thing. 
 
 No more need we fly the bright glances 
 Whence Cupid shot arrows of yore ; 
 
 To skulls let us limit our fancies, 
 
 And love by the bumps we explore ! 
 
 Oh, now we can tell in a minute 
 
 What fate will be ours when we wed ; 
 
 The heart has no passion within it 
 That is not engraved on the head. 
 
 Literary Gazette. 
 
 In vain we fondly strive to trace 
 The soul’s reflection in the face ; 
 
 In vain we dwell on lines and crosses, 
 
 Crooked mouth, or short proboscis ; 
 
 Boobies have look’d as wise and bright 
 As Plato, or the Stagyrite : 
 
 And many a sage and learned skull 
 
 Has peep’d through windows dark and dull. 
 
 Moore. 
 
 2713. PHYSIC. 
 
 When nature cannot work, th’ effect of art is void : 
 For physic can but mend our crazy state, 
 
 Patch an old building, not a new create. —Dryden. 
 
 He ’scapes the best, who nature to repair 
 
 Draws physic from the fields in draughts of vital air. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 2714. PHYSICIANS. 
 
 The first physicians by debauch were made ; 
 
 Excess began and sloth sustains the trade. 
 
 By chase our long-lived fathers earn’d their food; 
 
 Toil strung the nerves, and purified the blood; 
 
 But we their sons, a pamper’d race of men, 
 
 Are dwindled down to threescore years and ten. 
 
 Better to hunt in fields for health unbought 
 Than fee the doctor for a nauseous draught. 
 
 The wise for cure on exercise depend : 
 
 God never made his work for man to mend. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 Each proselyte would vote his doctor best, 
 
 With absolute exclusion to the rest.— Dryden. 
 
 The surest road to health, say what they will, 
 
 Is never to suppose we shall be ill. 
 
 Most of those evils we poor mortals know 
 From doctors and imagination flow.— Churchill. 
 
 Physicians mend or end us, 
 
 Secundum artem :—but although we sneer 
 In health,—when sick, we call them to attend us, 
 Without the least propensity to jeer.— Byron. 
 
 2715. PIETY. Importance of 
 
 ‘Are virtue, then, and piety the same?’ 
 
 No—piety is more ; ’tis virtue’s source— 
 
 Mother of every worth, as that of joy. 
 
 Men of the world this doctrine ill digest : 
 
 They smile at piety, yet boast aloud 
 
 Good will to men ; nor know they strive to part 
 
 What nature joins, and thus confute themselves. 
 
 With piety begins all good on earth; 
 
 ’Tis the first-born of rationality. 
 
 Conscience, her first law broken, wounded lies 
 Enfeebled, lifeless, impotent to good : 
 
 A feign’d affection bounds her utmost power. 
 
 Some we can’t love, but for th’ Almighty’s sake. 
 
 A foe to God was ne’er true friend to man : 
 
 Some sinister intent taints all he does, 
 
 And in his kindest actions, he’s unkind. 
 
 On piety, humanity is built; 
 
 And on humanity, much happiness ; 
 
 And yet still more on piety itself. 
 
 A soul in commerce with her God, is heaven ; 
 
 Feels not the tumults and the shocks of life, 
 
 The whirls of passion, and the strokes of heart. 
 
 Young. ' | 
 
 2716. PIETY. Intelligence and 
 
 Is sparkling wit the world’s exclusive right? 
 
 The fix’d fee-simple of the vain and light ? 
 
 Can hopes of heaven, bright prospects of an hour, 
 That come to waft us out of sorrow’s power, 
 
 Obscure or quench a faculty that finds 
 Its happiest soil in the serenest minds ? 
 
 Religion curbs indeed its wanton play, 
 
 And brings the trifler under rigorous sway, 
 
PIETY 
 
 529 
 
 PILGRIMS OF THE NIGHT 
 
 But gives it usefulness unknown before, 
 
 And purifying, makes it shine the more. 
 
 A Christian’s wit is inoffensive light, 
 
 A beam that aids, but never grieves the sight; 
 Vigorous in age as in the flush of youth, 
 
 ’Tis always active on the side of truth ;, 
 
 Temperance and peace insure its healthful state, 
 
 And make it brightest at its latest date.— Cawper. 
 
 2717. PIETY. Secret of 
 
 A PINING sceptic towards a raptured saint inclined, 
 And ask’d him how the Boundless Lover, God, to 
 find. 
 
 A smile divine across the saint’s pale features stole, 
 As thus in wise and pitying love he pour’d his soul : 
 
 ‘ Ah, hapless wanderer ! long from life’s true bliss 
 shut out, 
 
 In night of sin forlorn and wilderness of doubt, 
 Prepared am I with thy sad lot to sympathize, 
 
 For o’er my own dim tracks thy dark experience lies. 
 Now list and ponder deep, the secret while I tell 
 Of all the lore with which angelic bosoms swell. 
 Whoso would careless tread one worm that crawls 
 the sod, 
 
 That cruel man is darkly alienate from God; 
 
 But he that lives, embracing all that is, in love, 
 
 To dwell with him God bursts all bounds, below, 
 above. ’— Oriental. 
 
 2718. PIETY. Womanly 
 
 Right from the hand of God her spirit came 
 Unstain’d, and she hath ne’er forgotten whence 
 It came, nor wander’d far from thence, 
 
 But laboureth to keep her still the same, 
 
 Near to her place of birth, that she may not 
 Soil her white raiment with an earthly spot. 
 
 Yet sets she not her soul so steadily 
 
 Above, that she forgets her ties to earth, 
 
 But her whole thought would almost seem to be 
 How to make glad one lowly human hearth ; 
 
 For with a gentle courage she doth strive 
 In thought, and word, and feeling so to live 
 As to make earth next heaven ; and her heart 
 Herein doth show its most exceeding worth, 
 
 That, bearing in our frailty her just part, 
 
 She hath not shrunk from evils of this life, 
 
 But hath gone calmly forth into the strife, 
 
 And all its sins and sorrows hath withstood 
 With lofty strength of patient womanhood : 
 
 For this I love her great soul more than all, 
 
 That, being bound, like us, with earthly thrall, 
 
 She walks so bright and heaven-like therein— 
 Too wise, too meek, too womanly, to sin.— Lowell . 
 
 2719. PILGRIM’S PSALM. A 
 
 I uo not doubt my safety—that Thy hand 
 Will still uphold me, even to the last, 
 
 And that my feet on Canaan’s hill shall stand, 
 
 When the long wilderness is overpast; 
 
 But often faith is weak, and hope is low; 
 
 Forward, indeed, but faint and wearily I go. 
 
 I do not doubt Thy love, my Lord and God, 
 
 The love which suffer’d and which died for me, 
 The love which sought me on the downward road, 
 Unclasp’d the fetters, set the captive free ! 
 
 But mine seems now so languid, dull, and cold— 
 
 Oh for the blissful hours which I have known of old ! 
 
 I do not doubt, unworthy though I be, 
 
 Thy worthiness, my Saviour, is my own! 
 
 One of Thy many mansions is for me, 
 
 In the good land where sorrow is unknown; 
 
 But often clouds obscure the distant scene, 
 
 And from the flood I shrink, which darkly rolls be¬ 
 tween. 
 
 Lord ! at the evening time let there be light; 
 
 Unveil Thy presence, bid all darkness fly; 
 
 Surely, ere now, far spent must be the night, 
 
 The morning comes, the journey’s end is nigh ; 
 Renew my strength, what yet remains to run, 
 
 Till glory crown the work which grace has here 
 begun. 
 
 2720. PILGRIMS OF THE NIGHT. 
 
 Hark, hark, my soul! angelic songs are swelling 
 O’er earth’s green fields, and ocean’s wave-beat 
 shore ; 
 
 How sweet the truth those blessed strains are telling 
 Of that new life when sin shall be no more ! 
 
 Darker than night, life’s shadows fall around us ; 
 
 And, like benighted men, we miss our mark ; 
 
 God hides Himself, and grace hath scarcely found us, 
 Ere Death finds out his victims in the dark. 
 
 Onward we go, for still we hear them singing, 
 
 Come, weary souls ! for Jesus bids you come ! 
 
 And through the dark, its echoes sweetly ringing, 
 The music of the Gospel leads us home. 
 
 Far, far away, like bells at evening pealing, 
 
 The voice of Jesus sounds o’er land and sea, 
 
 And laden souls, by thousands meekly stealing, 
 
 Kind Shepherd, turn their weary steps to Thee! 
 
 Rest comes at length ; though life be long and dreaiy, 
 The day must dawn, and darksome night be past; 
 All journeys end in welcomes to the weary, 
 
 And heaven, the heart’s true home, will come at 
 last! 
 
 34 
 
PILGRIMS 
 
 530 
 
 PITIFULNESS 
 
 Cheer up, my soul! Faith’s moonbeams softly glisten 
 Upon the breast of life’s most troubled sea ; f 
 
 And it will cheer thy drooping heart to listen 
 
 To those brave songs which angels mean for thee. 
 
 Angels, sing on ! your faithful watches keeping ! 
 Sing us sweet fragments of the songs above; 
 
 While we toil on, and soothe ourselves with weeping, 
 Till life’s long night shall break in endless love. 
 
 Faber. 
 
 2721. PILGRIMS. Landing of the 
 
 The breaking waves dash’d high 
 On a stern and rock-bound coast, 
 
 And the woods against a stormy sky 
 Their giant branches toss’d ; 
 
 And the heavy night hung dark 
 The hills and waters o’er, 
 
 When a band of exiles moor’d their bark 
 On the wild New England shore. 
 
 Not as the conqueror comes, 
 
 They, the true-hearted, came ; 
 
 Not with the roll of the stirring drums, 
 
 And the trumpet that sings of fame : 
 
 Not as the flying come, 
 
 In silence and in fear ; 
 
 They shook the depths of the desert’s gloom 
 With their hymns of lofty cheer. 
 
 Amidst the storm they sang; 
 
 And the stars heard, and the sea! 
 
 And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang 
 To the Anthem of the Free ! 
 
 The ocean eagle soar’d 
 
 From his nest by the white waves’ foam, 
 
 And the rocking pines by the forest roar’d— 
 This was their welcome home ! 
 
 There were men with hoary hair 
 Amidst that Pilgrim band— 
 
 Why had they come to wither there , 
 
 Away from their childhood’s land ? 
 
 There was woman’s fearless eye, 
 
 Lit by her deep love’s truth ; 
 
 There was manhood’s brow serenely high ; 
 
 And the fiery heart of youth. 
 
 What sought they thus afar? 
 
 Bright jewels of the mine? 
 
 The wealth of seas, the spoils of war ? 
 
 They sought a faith’s pure shrine ! 
 
 Aye, call it holy ground, 
 
 The soil where first they trod ! 
 
 They have left unstain’d what there they found, 
 Freedom to worship God !— Mrs Hemans. 
 
 2722. PITIFULNESS : the choice of Ambrose. 
 
 Ambrose of Cluny, abbot (now a saint), 
 
 Thus, at the altar kneeling, made his plaint : 
 
 * Father, Thou knowest how I have striven to be 
 Faithful through many weary years to Thee. 
 
 Not that alone I mortified the flesh, 
 
 Lest Thy Son’s wounds might gape and bleed afresh ; 
 Not that to poverty my alms I gave, 
 
 And made each step as walking on my grave ; 
 
 Not that with vigil and with zeal untold 
 I ceaseless guard the sheep within Thy fold ; 
 
 But ease and honours, all most dear to me, 
 
 Have, with my being, been consecrate to Thee. 
 
 Yet anxious thoughts and heart-pangs will not cease, 
 Leaving me wretched. Father, give me peace !’ 
 
 Then, lo! all Heaven was open’d to his sight, 
 
 With the Ineffable enthroned in light. 
 
 His vision could not pierce that glory through ; 
 
 No definite figure smote his ravish’d view ; 
 
 But dazzling splendour, brightness so intense, 
 
 He only felt, not saw, Omnipotence ; 
 
 And from that Sun of suns a Living Word, 
 
 Not by the ear, but by the spirit heard : 
 
 ‘ Choose, Ambrose, thou, of these conditions twain, 
 And, having chosen, in that choice i-emain : 
 
 Take thou a lack of pity for men’s woes, 
 
 ; And to their misery let thy vision close, 
 
 And with this coldness let thy sufferings cease ; 
 
 Or for thy fellow-men lay down thy peace, 
 
 And take the power, coupled with thine unrest, 
 
 To make the suffering ones around thee blest.’ 
 
 Then Ambrose answer’d : ‘ Lord ! if unto me 
 The choice be given, the latter let it be. 
 
 To walk indifferent through the world alone, 
 
 Callous and ruthless, asks a heart of stone. 
 
 Such happiness were woe. Let me possess 
 The soul to pity and the power to bless, 
 
 To give, with cheering words and kindly deeds, 
 Relief to all, according to their needs.’ 
 
 ‘So be it,’ said the Word. Then gloom came o’er, 
 Intenser from the glory there before. 
 
 Ambrose resumed his work ; for many years 
 Strengthen’d the weak and dried the sufferers’ tears, 
 Nursed the sick poor, and shielded the oppress’d; 
 Yet knew nor happiness, nor ease, nor rest. 
 
 Follow’d by blessings, yet retaining woe, 
 
 To white-hair’d age he pass’d existence so. 
 
 But when upon his dying couch he lay 
 Into his chamber came a steady ray, 
 
 Which widen’d till of light there seem’d a flood; 
 And in its midst the blessed Saviour stood. 
 
PIT Y 
 
 53i 
 
 PLA YERS 
 
 * Come ! ’ said the Presence. Freed of every ill, 
 Good Ambrose felt his soul with rapture thrill. 
 Death had no sting ! Caught to the Master’s breast, 
 Who blest his fellow-men in turn was blest. 
 
 T. D. English. 
 
 2723. PITY. 
 
 Nought is there under Heaven’s wide hollowness 
 That moves more dear compassion of the mind 
 Than beauty brought t’ unworthy wretchedness ; 
 Through envy’s snares, or fortune’s freaks unkind : 
 I, whether lately through her brightness blind, 
 
 Or through allegiance and vast fealty, 
 
 Which I do owe unto all womankind, 
 
 Feel my heart pierced with so great agony, 
 
 When such I see, that all for pity I could die. 
 
 Spenser. 
 
 My pity hath been balm to heal their wounds, 
 My mildness hath allay’d their swelling griefs. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 None pities him that’s in the snare, 
 
 And, warn’d before, would not beware. 
 
 Herrick. 
 
 Pity only on fresh objects stays, 
 
 But with the tedious sight of woes decays. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 And, touch’d with miseries myself have known, 
 
 I learn to pity woes so like my own.— Dryden. 
 
 The brave are ever tender, 
 
 And feel the miseries of suffering virtue 
 
 Martyr^. 
 
 Pity is sworn servant unto Love, 
 
 And this be sure, wherever it begin 
 To make the way, it lets the master in. 
 
 • Daniel. 
 
 Soft Pity never leaves the gentle breast 
 Where Love has been received a welcome guest; 
 
 As wandering saints poor huts have blessed made, 
 He hallows every heart he once has sway’d, 
 
 And when his presence we no longer share, 
 
 Still leaves Compassion as a relic there.— Sheridan. 
 
 The truly brave are soft of heart and eyes, 
 
 And feel for what their duty bids them do. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 2724. PITY. God’s 
 
 Can I see another’s woe, 
 
 And not be in sorrow too ? 
 
 Can I see another’s grief, 
 
 And not seek for kind relief? 
 
 Can I see a falling tear, 
 
 And not feel my sorrow’s share? 
 
 Can a father see his child 
 Weep, nor be with sorrow fill'd ? 
 
 Can a mother sit and hear 
 An infant groan, an infant fear ? 
 
 No, no ! never can it be ! 
 
 Never, never can it be ! 
 
 And can He who smiles on all, 
 
 Hear the wren, with sorrows small, 
 
 Hear the small bird’s grief and care, 
 
 Hear the woes that infants bear ? 
 
 And not sit beside the nest, 
 
 Pouring pity in their breast ? 
 
 And not sit the cradle near, 
 
 Weeping tear on infant’s tear? 
 
 And not sit both night and day, 
 
 Wiping all our tears away ? 
 
 Oh, no ! never can it be ! 
 
 Never, never can it be !— Blake. 
 
 2725. PLACE : does not change character. 
 
 A jewel fallen within the mire 
 Will sparkle still, and still aspire ; 
 
 But dust, although on wings it fly, 
 
 Is dust when lifted to the sky. 
 
 From the Persian of Saadi. 
 
 2726. PLACE—the lowliest may be filled wor 
 
 thily. 
 
 What though unmark’d the happy workman toil, 
 And break, unthank’d of man, the stubborn clod 
 It is enough, for sacred is the soil, 
 
 Dear are the hills of God. 
 
 Far better in its place the lowliest bird 
 
 Should sing aright to Him the lowliest song, 
 Than that a seraph stray’d should take the word, 
 And sing His glory wrong .—Jean Ingelow. 
 
 2727. PLAYERS. 
 
 Is it not monstrous that this player here, 
 
 But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, 
 
 Could force his soul so to his own conceit, 
 
 That, from her working, all his visage warm’d : 
 Tears in his eyes, distraction in his aspect, 
 
 A broken voice, and his whole function suiting 
 With forms to his conceit? and all for nothing? 
 For Hecuba? 
 
 What’s Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, 
 
 That he should w r eep for her? and all for nothing 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 They abuse our scene, 
 
 And say we live by vice ; indeed ’tis true ; 
 
 As the physicians by diseases do, 
 
 Only to cure them : they do live, we see, 
 
 Like cooks by pampering prodigality ; 
 
PLEASURE 
 
 532 
 
 PLEASURE 
 
 Which are our fond accusers. On the stage, 
 
 We set an usurer to tell his age ; 
 
 How ugly looks his soul: a prodigal 
 Is taught by us how far from liberal 
 His folly bears him. Boldly I dare say, 
 
 There has been more by us in some one play 
 Laugh’d into wit and virtue, than hath been 
 By twenty tedious lectures drawn from sin, 
 
 And foppish humours : hence the cause doth rise, 
 Men are not won by th’ ears, so well as eyes. 
 
 Randolph. 
 
 2728. PLEASURE. Clog of 
 
 Who after wisdom flies must guard both foot and 
 wing 
 
 From pleasure’s honey, or therein he’ll stick and 
 cling.— Oriental. 
 
 2729. PLEASURE : elusive. 
 
 Pleasures are few, and fewer we enjoy : 
 Pleasure, like quicksilver, is bright and coy ; 
 
 We strive to grasp it with our utmost skill, 
 
 Still it eludes us, and it glitters still : 
 
 If seized at last, compute your mighty gains 
 What is it but rank poison in your veins ? 
 
 Young. 
 
 2730. PLEASURE : evanescent. 
 
 Give me long dreams and visions of content, 
 Rather than pleasures in a minute spent : 
 
 And since I know before, the shedding rose 
 In that same instant doth her sweetness lose ; 
 Upon the virgin stock still let her dwell, 
 
 For me to feast my longings with her smell. 
 Those are but counterfeits of joy at best, 
 
 Which languish soon as brought unto the test, 
 Nor can I hold it worth his pains, who tries 
 To inn that harvest which by reaping dies. 
 
 King. 
 
 Pleasures are like poppies spread, 
 
 Y ou seize the flower, its bloom is shed ; 
 
 Or like the snow-falls in the river, 
 
 A moment white—then melts for ever ; 
 
 Or like the borealis race, 
 
 That flit ere you can point their place; 
 
 Or like the rainbow’s lovely form 
 Evanishing amid the storm— 
 
 Nae man can tether time or tide.— Burns. 
 
 2731. PLEASURE. Excess of 
 
 But not even pleasure to excess is good : 
 
 What most elates, then sinks the soul as low : 
 When spring-tide joy pours in with copious flood, 
 The higher still the exulting billows flow, 
 
 The further back again they flagging go, 
 
 And leave us grovelling on the dreary shore. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 Pleasure, admitted in undue degree, 
 
 Enslaves the will, nor leaves the judgment free. 
 
 • • • • • • 
 
 Peace follows virtue as its sure reward ; 
 
 And Pleasure brings as surely in her train 
 Remorse, and sorrow, and vindictive pain. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 2732. PLEASURE. False 
 
 Admirers of false pleasures must sustain 
 The weight and sharpness of ensuing pain. 
 
 Beaumont. 
 
 Pleasure is good, and man for pleasure made ; 
 
 But pleasure full of glory as of joy ; 
 
 Pleasure which neither blushes nor expires. 
 
 • • • • • • 
 
 Death treads in Pleasure’s footsteps round the world, 
 When Pleasure treads the paths which Reason shuns. 
 
 Young. 
 
 2733. PLEASURE. Influence of 
 
 To business that we love, we rise betime, 
 
 And go to it with delight.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Pleasure and Revenge 
 
 Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice 
 Of any true decision.— Shakespeare. 
 
 2734. PLEASURE. Lawless 
 
 Short is the course of every lawless pleasure— 
 Grief, like a shade, on all its footsteps waits, 
 Scarce visible in joy’s meridian height; 
 
 But, downwards as its blaze declining speeds, 
 
 The dwarfish shadow to a giant spreads.— Milton. 
 
 2735. PLEASURE : not man’s chief end. 
 
 Judge not what is best 
 By pleasure, though to nature seeming meet; 
 Created as thou art to nobler end, 
 
 Holy and pure, conformity divine !— Milton. 
 
 2736. PLEASURE. Power of 
 
 Of pleasure next the final cause explore; 
 
 Its mighty purpose, its important end. 
 
 Not to turn human brutal, but to build 
 Divine on human, Pleasure came from heaven. 
 
 In aid to reason was the goddess sent, 
 
 To call up all its strength by such a charm. 
 Pleasure first succours virtue ; in return, 
 
 Virtue gives Pleasure an eternal reign. 
 
PLEASURE 
 
 533 
 
 POET 
 
 What but the pleasure of food, friendship, faith, 
 Supports life natural, civil, and divine ? 
 
 ’Tis from the pleasure of repast we live ; 
 
 ’Tis from the pleasure of applause we please ; 
 
 ’Tis from the pleasure of belief we pray, 
 
 (All prayer would cease, if unbelieved the prize). 
 It serves ourselves, our species, and our God ; 
 And to serve more is past the sphere of man. 
 Glide, then, for ever, pleasure’s sacred stream ! 
 Through Eden as Euphrates ran, it runs, 
 
 And fosters every growth of happy life ; 
 
 Makes a new Eden where it flows.— Young. 
 
 2737. PLEASURE. Sensuous 
 
 One said, ‘ Better a single drop of pleasure, 
 
 Than to possess a hogshead full of wisdom. ’ 
 
 Such thought it fitteth a hog’s head to treasure, 
 
 In filthy dregs of sense appointing his doom ; 
 
 But sooth, one drop of wisdom is far better 
 Than pleasure in whole bottomless abysses : 
 
 For sense’s fool must wear remorse’s fetter, 
 
 When duty’s servant reigns where endless bliss is. 
 
 Oriental, tr. by IV. R. Alger. 
 
 2738. PLEASURE. Sources of 
 
 ’Tis pleasant safely to behold from shore 
 The rolling ships, and hear the tempest roar ; 
 Not that another’s pain is our delight. 
 
 But pains unfelt produce the pleasing sight. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 For every want that stimulates the breast 
 Becomes a source of pleasure when redrest. 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 2739. PLEASURE. The sum of 
 
 Know, all the good that individuals find, 
 
 Or God and nature meant to mere mankind, 
 Reason’s whole pleasure, all the joys of sense, 
 
 Lie in three words,—health, peace, and competence. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 2740. PLEASURE : the object of universal pur¬ 
 
 suit. 
 
 All human race, from China to Peru, 
 
 Pleasure, howe’er disguised by art, pursue. 
 
 IVarton. 
 
 Whate’er the motive, Pleasure is the mark : 
 
 For her the black assassin draws his sword ; 
 
 For her dark statesmen trim their midnight lamp ; 
 For her the saint abstains ; the miser starves ; 
 
 The stoic proud, for pleasure, pleasure scorns ; 
 
 For her affliction’s daughters grief indulge, 
 
 And find, or hope, a luxury in tears ;— 
 
 For her, guilt, shame, toil, danger, we defy. 
 
 Young. 
 
 2741. PLEASURE. Unexpected 
 
 Pleasure that comes unlook’d for is thrice welcome ; 
 And if it stir the heart, if aught be there 
 That may hereafter in a thoughtful hour 
 Wake but a sigh, ’tis treasured up among 
 The things most precious ; and the day it came 
 Is noted as a white day in our lives.— Rogers. 
 
 2742. POET. Admonition to the 
 
 Pray ere thou writ’st, and after writing praise ; 
 
 That God may bless and men may mind thy lays ; 
 And in thy high and holy poet calling, 
 
 God keep thy heart from failing, feet from falling. 
 
 Bailey. 
 
 2743. POET. Fate of the 
 
 Trace the young poet’s fate : 
 
 Fresh from his solitude, the child of dreams, 
 
 His heart upon his lips, he seeks the world, 
 
 To find him fame and fortune, as if life 
 Were like a fairy tale. His song has led 
 The way before him ; flatteries fill his ear, 
 
 His presence courted, and his words are caught ; 
 And he seems happy in so many friends. 
 
 What marvel if he somewhat overrate 
 His talents and his state ? These scenes soon change. 
 The vain, who sought to mix their name with his; 
 The curious, who but live for some new sight; 
 
 The idle—all these have been gratified, 
 
 And now neglect stings even more than scorn. 
 
 Miss Landon. 
 
 2744. POET. Power of the 
 
 The poet’s eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, 
 
 Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to 
 heaven; 
 
 And as imagination bodies forth 
 The forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen 
 Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothings 
 A local habitation and a name.— Shakespeare. 
 
 2745. POET. Prayer of a 
 
 Awake in me a truer life ! 
 
 A soul to labour and aspire ; 
 
 Touch Thou my mortal lips, 0 God, 
 
 With Thine own truth’s immortal fire ! 
 
 Give strength unto my spirit’s wing, 
 
 Give light unto my spirit’s eye, 
 
 And let the sunshine of Thy smile 
 Upon my upward pathway lie ! 
 
 Thus, when my soul in Thy pure faith 
 Hath grown serene, and free, and strong, 
 
 Thy greatness may exalt my thought, 
 
 Thy love make beautiful my song. 
 
 Miss Sara J. Clarke. 
 
POET 
 
 534 
 
 POETS 
 
 2746. POET. Priesthood of the 
 
 A priest by Heaven ordain’d, 
 
 The Poet-seer at Nature’s altar stands 
 To offer reverent worship for his race ; 
 
 To coin in burning language golden truths, 
 
 Bodied in nature’s hieroglyphic forms ; 
 
 And word the grateful joy, and trusting love 
 And hope, which thousands feel but cannot speak. 
 
 Dewart. 
 
 2747. POET. Theme of the 
 
 The land of song within thee lies, 
 
 Water’d by living springs ; 
 
 The lids of Fancy’s sleepless eyes 
 Are gates unto that Paradise, 
 
 Holy thoughts like stars arise, 
 
 Its clouds are angels’ wings. 
 
 Look, then, into thy heart and write ! 
 
 Yes, into Life’s deep stream ! 
 
 All forms of sorrow and delight. 
 
 All solemn Voices of the Night, 
 
 These can soothe thee, or affright,— 
 
 Be these henceforth thy theme. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 2748. POETRY. Effect of 
 
 Hearken unto a verser, who may chance 
 Rhyme thee to good, and make a bait of pleasure : 
 
 A verse may find him who a sermon flies, 
 
 And turn delight into a sacrifice .—George Herbert. 
 
 Things of deep sense we may in prose unfold, 
 
 But they move more in lofty numbers told ; 
 
 By the loud trumpet which our courage aids, 
 
 We learn that sound, as well as sense, persuades. 
 
 Waller. 
 
 Well-sounding verses are the charms we use 
 Heroic thoughts and virtue to infuse. 
 
 Roscommon. 
 
 Verse sweetens toil, however rude the sound ; 
 
 All at her work the village maiden sings, 
 
 Nor, as she turns the giddy wheel around, 
 
 Revolves the sad vicissitude of things.— Gifford. 
 
 2749. POETRY. Instinct of 
 
 There breathes no being but has some pretence 
 To that fine instinct call’d poetic sense : 
 
 The rudest savage roaming through the wild, 
 
 The simplest rustic bending o’er his child, 
 
 The infant listening to the warbling bird, 
 
 The mother smiling at its half-form’d word ; 
 
 The boy uncaged, who tracks the field at large, 
 
 The girl, turn’d matron to her babe-like charge; 
 The freeman, casting with unpurchased hand 
 The vote that shakes the turrets of the land ; 
 
 The slave who, slumbering on his rusted chain, 
 Dreams of the palm-trees on his burning plain ; 
 
 The hot-cheek’d reveller, tossing down the wine, 
 
 To join the chorus pealing ‘ Auld lang syne ;’ 
 
 The gentle maid, whose azure eye grows dim, 
 
 While Heaven is listening to her evening hymn ; 
 
 The jewell’d beauty, when her steps draw near 
 The circling dance and dazzling chandelier ; 
 
 E’en trembling age, when spring’s renewing air 
 Waves the thin ringlets of his silver’d hair— 
 
 All, all are glowing with the inward flame, 
 
 Whose wider halo wreathes the poet’s name. 
 
 Holmes. 
 
 2750. POETRY : should be pure. 
 
 Curst be the verse, how well soe’er it flow, 
 
 That tends to make one worthy man my foe, 
 
 Gives virtue scandal, innocence a fear, 
 
 Or from the soft-eyed virgin steals a tear !— Pope. 
 
 2751. POETS: are painters. 
 
 Poets are limners of another kind, 
 
 To copy out ideas in the mind ; 
 
 Words are the paint by which their thoughts are 
 shown, 
 
 And nature is their object to be drawn. — Granville. 
 
 2752. POETS. Our obligations to the 
 
 Blessings be with them, and eternal praise, 
 
 Who gave us nobler loves, and nobler cares,— 
 The Poets ! who on earth have made us heirs 
 Of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays ! 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 I have consider’d things beneath the sun 
 Like Solomon, and even some things done, 
 
 And know not where to seek more noble thought, 
 More spotless truth, or art more finely wrought, 
 Than in the works of bards of every time ; 
 
 Of every creed and language, class and clime, 
 
 Of every science, song’s the most sublime.— Bailey. 
 
 2753. POETS. Praise of the 
 
 This be the poet’s praise, 
 
 That he hath ever been of Liberty 
 
 The steadfast friend ; of Justice and of Truth 
 
 Firmest supporter ; of high thoughts, 
 
 And all true beauty of the inner world, 
 
 Creator.— American Prospectus —1 7 ^ 3 * 
 
 2754. POETS : secret of their power. 
 
 ’Tis long disputed whether poets claim 
 From art or nature their best right to fame : 
 
POETS 
 
 535 
 
 POOR 
 
 But art, if not enrich’d by nature’s vein, 
 
 And a rude genius of uncultured strain, 
 
 Are useless both ; but when in friendship join’d, 
 A mutual succour in each other find. 
 
 Horace , by Francis. 
 
 2755. POETS. Who are 
 
 Yet, lest you think I rally more than teach, 
 
 Or praise malignly arts I cannot reach, 
 
 Let me, for once, presume t’ instruct the times 
 To know the poet from the man of rhymes : 
 
 ’Tis he who gives my breast a thousand pains ; 
 
 Can make me feel each passion that he feigns ; 
 Enrage—compose—with more than magic art, 
 With pity and with terror tear my heart ; 
 
 And snatch me o’er the earth, or through the air, 
 To Thebes, to Athens, when he will, and where. 
 
 Horace , by Pope. 
 
 Poetry is itself a thing of God ; 
 
 He made his prophets poets, and the more 
 
 We feel of poesy do we become 
 
 Like God in love and power—under-makers. 
 
 Bailey. 
 
 Poets are all who love—who feel great truths — 
 
 And tell them.— Bailey. 
 
 1 
 
 2756. POLITICS AND POLITICIANS. 
 
 Who’s in or out, who moves the grand machine, 
 Nor stirs my curiosity, nor spleen ; 
 
 Secrets of state no more I wish to know 
 Than secret movements of a puppet-show ; 
 
 Let but the puppets move, I’ve my desire, 
 
 Unseen the hand which guides the master-wire. 
 
 Churchill. 
 
 For forms of government let fools contest ; 
 Whate’er is best administer’d is best.— Pope. 
 
 Dull rogues affect the politician’s part, 
 
 And learn to nod, and smile, and shrug with art ; 
 Who nothing has to lose, the war bewails ; 
 
 And he who nothing pays, at taxes rails. 
 
 Congreve. 
 
 Avoid the politic, the factious fool, 
 
 The busy, buzzing, talking, harden’d knave, 
 
 The quaint, smooth rogue, that sins against his reason, 
 Calls saucy loud sedition public zeal, 
 
 And mutiny the dictates of his spirit.— Otway. 
 
 1 Where village statesmen talk’d with looks profound, 
 And news much older than their ale went round. 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 A politician, Proteus-like, must alter 
 His face, and habit; and, like water, seem 
 Of the same colour that the vessel is 
 
 That doth contain it ; varying his form 
 With the chameleon at each object’s change. 
 
 Mason. 
 
 2757. POOR. The : are often unjustly blamed. 
 
 Ay ! idleness ! the rich folks never fail 
 To find some reason why the poor deserve 
 Their miseries. — Southey. 
 
 2758. POOR. The :—Christ’s representatives. 
 
 In Weimar’s orphanage, as evening fell, 
 
 Each child, with clasped hands upon his breast, 
 Thank’d God that he had spread their table well, 
 And pray’d : ‘ Dear Jesus, come and be our guest.’ 
 
 Then little Franz, in whose large, earnest eyes 
 The shadow of some disappointment lay, 
 
 Ask’d : ‘ Master, doth Christ hear beyond the skies ? 
 He comes not though we ask Him every day.’ 
 
 ‘ Dear child,’ the Master said, ‘ have thou no fear, 
 For the Good Shepherd loves this little flock ; 
 Keep thou His place ; some day He will be here.’ — 
 Just then, upon the door, a trembling knock, 
 
 And lo! a poor, half-frozen ’prentice lad, 
 
 Hungry and weary, ask’d a little bread ; 
 
 Sick and a stranger, he no shelter had, 
 
 And knew not where to lay his aching head. 
 
 They welcomed him with childish warmth and grace, 
 And artless words of sympathy they said ; 
 
 And every boy would gladly yield his place, 
 
 Or with the sick one share his little bed. 
 
 But Franz, with earnest eyes, sat still and thought, 
 Pondering as one that does not hear or see, 
 
 Till, in that blessed mood, by angels taught, 
 
 What had been dark he now saw perfectly. 
 
 Then to the Master ran, with footsteps light, 
 
 And climb’d his knee, and confidently said: 
 
 ‘The dear Lord Jesus could not come to-night, 
 
 And so He sent this poor one in His stead ; 
 
 ‘ Is’t so, my Master?’ And the Master’s eyes 
 Fill’d with strange tears. ‘ O sweet, wise heart ! ’ 
 he said, 
 
 1 Truly thy prayer was heard beyond the skies, 
 
 And the Lord answer’d—just as thou hast said ; 
 
 ‘ For He will come or send—of that be sure, 
 
 And He hath sent this answer unto thee ; 
 
 See here His word : “Just as ye treat My poor, 
 
 So, in as much, ye do it unto Me! 
 
 Lillie E. Barr. 
 
POOR 
 
 536 
 
 2759. POOR. Duty of the 
 
 If fortune has a niggard been to thee, 
 
 Devote thyself to thrift, not luxury ; 
 
 And wisely make that kind of food thy choice 
 To which necessity confines thy price.— Dry den. 
 
 2760. POOR. The :—how they are to be 
 
 treated. 
 
 ‘ We cannot always be giving ; 
 
 The woman has come again ; 
 
 She has such a whining story 
 Of hunger, or cold, or pain ; 
 
 She wearies with petitions ; 
 
 Her Johnny is out of a place, 
 
 Her children are sick with hunger— 
 
 I tire of her listless face.’ 
 
 Grand Philip sat lazily reading ; 
 
 The crimson gas-light shook, 
 
 From a shade that was ruby tinted, 
 
 Its red flakes over his book. 
 
 I thought that he did not notice ; 
 
 But suddenly, sweet and low, 
 
 He said, with the voice of a dreamer, 
 
 ‘Don’t let the woman go.’ 
 
 And then, with his smile so royal, 
 
 So sweet witdi pity and pain, 
 
 He call’d her to the study, 
 
 Out of the merciless rain. 
 
 ‘ Sit down, my friend ; ’ and he gave her 
 The best chair in the place ; 
 
 And I saw a quick blush brighten 
 Her haggard and listless face. 
 
 And then, in tones like music, 
 
 He sounded her frozen heart, 
 
 Till the thrill of a tender question 
 Sunder’d its ice apart; 
 
 And tears, and sobs, and passion 
 Came thick as the midnight rain ; 
 
 And she told such a pitiful story 
 My own heart throbb’d with pain. 
 
 ‘ You see,’ said Philip, softly, 
 
 ‘ She is greater than you or I ; 
 
 She has straggled and conquer’d where we, love, 
 Would maybe sink down and die; 
 
 She has fought in the dark with demons, 
 
 With evil on every side ; 
 
 And Satan hath tried to strip her 
 Even of her womanly pride. 
 
 * Love, let us be very tender ; 
 
 The lowliest soul may be 
 A temple of priceless treasures, 
 
 That only a God can see.’ 
 
 POPULARITY 
 
 So the woman left our study 
 
 With the face of an angel of light ; 
 
 And she is my noblest pattern 
 
 Who came as a beggar that night. 
 
 2761. POOR. Prayers of the 
 
 Around each pure, domestic shrine, 
 
 Bright flowers of Eden bloom and twine ; 
 
 Our hearths are altars all : 
 
 The prayers of hungry souls and poor, 
 
 Like armed angels at the door, 
 
 Our unseen foes appal.— Keble. 
 
 2762. POOR. The : seldom pitied. 
 
 Few save the poor feel for the poor ; 
 
 The rich know not how hard 
 It is to be of needful rest 
 And needful food debarr’d ; 
 
 They know not of the scanty meal, 
 
 With small pale faces round ; 
 
 No fire upon the cold damp hearth 
 When snow is on the ground. 
 
 L. E. Landon. 
 
 2763. POOR. The : should be treated kindly 
 
 Have pity on them, for their life 
 Is full of grief and care : 
 
 You do not know one half the woes 
 The very poor must bear; 
 
 You do not see the silent tears 
 By many a mother shed, 
 
 As childhood offers up the prayer— 
 
 ‘ Give us our daily bread.’ 
 
 Airs Worthington. 
 
 Speak gently, kindly, to the poor; 
 
 Let no harsh term be heard ; 
 
 They have enough they must endure, 
 
 Without an unkind word.— Bates. 
 
 2764. POPULARITY. 
 
 All tongues speak of him, and the bleared sights 
 Are spectacled to see him : your prattling nurse 
 Into a rapture lets her baby cry, 
 
 While she chats him : the kitchen malkin pins 
 Her richest lockram ’bout her reechy neck. 
 Clambering the walls to eye him : stalls, bulks, win¬ 
 dows. 
 
 Are smother’d up, leads fill’d, and ridges horsed 
 With variable complexions ; all agreeing 
 In earnestness to see him.— Shakespeare. 
 
 I have seen 
 
 The dumb men throng to see him, and the blind 
 
POPULARITY 
 
 537 
 
 POSSIBILITIES 
 
 To hear him speak : the matrons flung their gloves, 
 
 ; Ladies and maids their scarfs and handkerchiefs, 
 
 . Upon him as he pass’d : the nobles bended, 
 
 , As to Jove’s statue ; and the commons made 
 ' A shower and thunder, with their caps and shouts : 
 
 I never saw the like.— Shakespeare. 
 
 They more or less came in with cap and knee, 
 
 Met him in boroughs, cities, villages ; 
 
 Attended him on bridges, stood in lanes, 
 
 Laid gifts before him, proffer’d him their oaths, 
 Gave him their heirs ; as pages follow’d him, 
 Even at his heels, in golden multitudes. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Then, as I said, the duke, great Bolingbroke, 
 j Mounted upon a hot and fiery steed, 
 
 Which his aspiring rider seem’d to know, 
 
 With slow but stately pace kept on his course ; 
 
 ! While all tongues cried, God save thee, Bolingbroke, 
 You would have thought the very windows spake, 
 
 So many greedy looks of young and old 
 Through casements darted their desiring eyes 
 Upon his visage.— Shakespeai'e. 
 
 O momentary grace of mortal men! 
 
 Which we more hunt for than the grace of God ; 
 
 ’ Who builds his hope in air of your fair looks, 
 
 Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast, 
 
 Ready with every nod to tumble down.— Shakespeare. 
 
 I have no taste 
 Of popular applause : The noisy praise 
 Of giddy crowds as changeable as winds ; 
 
 Still vehement, and still without a cause ; 
 Servants to chance, and blowing in the tide 
 Of swoln success; but veering with the ebb, 
 
 It leaves the channel dry.— Dryden. 
 
 O breath of public praise, 
 Short-lived and vain ! oft gain’d without desert, 
 Is often lost, unmerited : composed 
 But of extremes : thou first beginn’st with love 
 Enthusiastic, madness of affection ; then 
 (Bounding o’er moderation and o’er reason) 
 
 Thou turn’st to hate, as causeless and as fierce. 
 
 Havard. 
 
 Oh, popular applause, what heart of man 
 Is proof against thy sweet seducing charms ? 
 
 The wisest and the best feel urgent need 
 Of all their caution in thy gentlest gales ; 
 
 I But swell’d into a gust—who then, alas ! 
 
 With all his canvas set, and inexpert, 
 
 And therefore heedless, can withstand thy power? 
 
 Cow per. 
 
 Some shout him, and some hang upon his car 
 To gaze in’s eyes and bless him. Maidens wave 
 
 Their ’kerchiefs, and old women weep for joy. 
 
 While others, not so satisfied, unhorse 
 The gilded equipage, and, turning loose 
 His steeds, usurp a place they well deserve. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 2765. POSITION. Judging by 
 
 ’TlS from high life high characters are drawn : 
 
 A saint in crape is twice a saint in lawn ; 
 
 A judge is just, a chancellor juster still; 
 
 A gownman learn’d ; a bishop what you will : 
 
 Wise if a minister ; but if a king, 
 
 More wise, more learn’d, more just, more everything. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 2766. POSSESSION. Law of 
 
 What men gain fairly—that they should possess, 
 And children may inherit idleness, 
 
 From him who earns it—this is understood ; 
 
 Private injustice may be general good, 
 
 But he who gains by base and armed wrong, 
 
 Or guilty fraud, or base compliances, 
 
 May be despoil’d ; even as a stolen dress 
 Is stript from a convicted thief, and he 
 Left in the nakedness of infamy.— Shelley. 
 
 2767. POSSIBILITIES. Our 
 
 We cannot all be heroes, 
 
 And thrill a hemisphere 
 
 With some great, daring venture, 
 
 Some deed that mocks at fear ; 
 
 But we can fill a lifetime 
 With kindly acts and true. 
 
 There’s always noble service 
 For noble souls to do. 
 
 We cannot all be preachers, 
 
 And sway with voice and pen, 
 
 As strong winds sway the forest, 
 
 The minds and hearts of men ; 
 
 But we can be evangels 
 To souls within our reach. 
 
 There’s always Love’s own gospel 
 For loving hearts to preach. 
 
 We cannot all be martyrs, 
 
 And win a deathless name 
 
 By some divine baptism, 
 
 Some ministry of flame ; 
 
 But we can live for Truth’s sake, 
 
 Can do for her and dare. 
 
 There’s always faithful witness 
 
 For faithful lives to bear. — C. A. Mason. 
 
POSSIBILITY 
 
 533 
 
 POVERTY 
 
 2768. POSSIBILITY. Lost 
 
 Look in my face ; my name is Might-have-been ; 
 
 I’m also call’d No-more, Too-late, Farewell; 
 
 Unto thine ear I hold the dead-sea shell; 
 
 Cast up thy life’s foam-fretted feet between ; , 
 
 Unto thine eyes the glass where that is seen 
 
 Which had Life’s form and Love’s, but by my spell 
 Is now a shaken shadow intolerable, 
 
 Of ultimate things unutter’d, the frail screen. 
 
 Rossetti. 
 
 2769. POVERTY : a barrier to progress. 
 
 Ah ! who can tell how hard it is to climb 
 
 The steep where fame’s proud temple shines afar ? 
 Ah ! who can tell how many a soul sublime 
 Has felt the influence of malignant star, 
 
 And waged with fortune an eternal war ? 
 
 Check’d by the scoff of pride, by envy’s frown, 
 
 And poverty’s unconquerable bar, 
 
 In life’s low vale remote has pined alone, 
 
 Then dropt into the grave, unpitied and unknown. 
 
 Beattie. 
 
 This mournful truth is everywhere confess’d. 
 
 Slow rises worth by poverty depress’d. 
 
 Johnson. 
 
 2770. POVERTY : a political danger. 
 
 To men 
 
 Press’d by their wants, all change is ever welcome. 
 
 Ben Jon son. 
 
 2771. POVERTY. Burden of 
 
 To mortal men great loads allotted be ; 
 
 But of all packs, no pack like poverty. 
 
 Herrick. 
 
 2772. POVERTY. Contented 
 
 Cleon hath a million acres—ne’er a one have I ; 
 Cleon dwelleth in a palace—in a cottage, I ; 
 
 Cleon hath a dozen fortunes—not a penny, I , 
 
 But the poorer of the twain is Cleon, and not I. 
 
 Cleon, true, possesseth acres—but the landscape, I ; 
 Half the charms to me it yieldeth, money cannot buy; 
 Cleon harbours sloth and dulness —- freshening 
 vigour, I ; 
 
 He in velvet, I in fustian ; richer man am I. 
 
 Cleon is a slave to grandeur—free as thought am I ; 
 Cleon fees a score of doctors—need of none have I. 
 Wealth-surrounded, care-environ’d, Cleon fears to 
 die ; 
 
 Death may come—he’ll find me ready—happier man 
 am I. 
 
 Cleon sees no charm in Nature—in a daisy, I ; 
 
 Cleon hears no anthem ringing in the sea and sky; 
 
 Nature sings to me for ever —earnest listener, I. 
 
 State for state, with all attendants, who would 
 change? Not I.— Mackay. 
 
 2773. POVERTY. Degrading influence of 
 
 Sleep seems their only refuge. For alas 
 Where penury is felt the thought is chain’d, 
 
 And sweet colloquial pleasures are but few. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 2774. POVERTY : ennobled. 
 
 Burns o’er the plough sung sweet his wood-note, 
 wild ; 
 
 And richest Shakespeare was a poor man’s child. 
 
 Ebenezer Elliott. 
 
 2775. POVERTY. Fear of 
 
 Riches endless is as poor as winter, 
 
 To him that ever fears he shall be poor. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 2776. POVERTY. Happiness with 
 
 Think you, indeed, Fate is unkind, 
 
 In poverty’s dull chains to bind 
 Or fetter my aspiring mind ? 
 
 Ah ! think again : 
 
 Lady, my Father is a King: 
 
 Around His throne immortals sing, 
 
 Their faces veil! 
 
 This beauteous world, this air-hung ball, 
 
 Sun, moon, and stars, both great and small, 
 
 My Father made, and owns them all : 
 
 I am not poor. 
 
 And, when I read His Legacy, I find 
 That He has will’d to me a kingdom, 
 
 And I shall be of it possess’d. 
 
 I would not change my happy state 
 For all the honours of the great, 
 
 Or pleasures which around them wait: 
 
 They are vanity. 
 
 Poverty never was design’d 
 To chain and fetter down the mind ; 
 
 There are boundless fields to range, I find, 
 
 In Jesus’ grace. 
 
 I have no idolized gold, 
 
 To canker or corrode my soul, 
 
 Or in this world my heart to hold : 
 
 Praised be God ! 
 
 2777. POVERTY. Hardships of 
 
 The poor sleep little: we must learn to watch 
 Our labours late and early ; every morning, 
 ’Midst winter frosts, sparingly clad and fed, 
 
 Rise to our toils, and drudge away the day. 
 
PO VER TY 539 PO WER 
 
 Want, worldly want, that hungry, meagre fiend, 
 Is at our heels, and chases us in view. — Otway. 
 
 2778. POVERTY. Heritage of 
 
 What doth the poor man’s son inherit? 
 
 Stout muscles and a sinewy heart, 
 
 A hardy frame, a hardier spirit; 
 
 King of two hands, he does his part 
 In every useful toil and art; 
 
 A heritage, it seems to me, 
 
 A king might wish to hold in fee.— Lcnvell. 
 
 2783. POVERTY : not an evil. 
 
 Want is a bitter and a hateful good, 
 
 Because its virtues are not understood ; 
 
 Yet many things impossible to thought 
 Have been by need to full perfection brought. 
 The daring of the soul proceeds from thence, 
 Sharpness of wit, and active diligence ; 
 Prudence at once, and fortitude, it gives, 
 
 And, if in patience taken, mends our lives. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 2784. POVERTY. Riches of 
 
 2779. POVERTY. Honourable 
 
 Be thou clad in russet weed, 
 
 Be thou deck’d in silken stole, 
 
 Grave these counsels on thy soul : 
 
 Say man’s true, genuine estimate, 
 
 The grand criterion of his fate, 
 
 Is not, art thou high or low ? 
 
 Did thy fortune ebb or flow ? 
 
 Did many talents gild the span ? 
 
 Or frugal nature grudge thee one ? 
 
 Tell them, and press it on their mind, 
 
 As thou thyself must shortly find, 
 
 The smile or frown of awful Heaven 
 To virtue or to vice is given. 
 
 Say, to the just, and kind, and wise, 
 
 There solid self-enjoyment lies; 
 
 That foolish, selfish, faithless ways, 
 
 Lead to the wretched, vile, and base. 
 
 Burns. 
 
 2780. POVERTY : is often self-inflicted. 
 
 But poverty, with most who whimper forth 
 Their long complaints, is self-inflicted woe, 
 Th’ effect of laziness, or sottish waste. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 2781. POVERTY : lies in the mind. 
 
 He is never poor 
 
 That little hath, but he that much desires. 
 
 Daniel. 
 
 2782. POVERTY. Love in 
 
 
 O FAITHFUL love by poverty embraced ! 
 
 Thy heart is fire amid a wintry waste ; 
 
 Thy joys are roses born on Hecla’s brow ; 
 
 Thy home is Eden, warm amid the snow; 
 
 And she, thy mate, when coldest blows the storm, 
 Clings then most fondly to thy guardian form ; 
 Even as thy taper gives intensest light 
 When o’er thy bow’d roof darkest falls the night. 
 
 Ebenezer Elliott. 
 
 Why art thou cast down, my heart? 
 
 Why trouble, why dost mourn apart, 
 
 O'er nought but earthly wealth ? 
 
 Trust in thy God, be not afraid, 
 
 He is thy Friend, who all things made ! 
 
 Dost think thy prayers He doth not heed ? 
 
 He knows full well what thou dost need ; 
 
 And heaven and earth are His ! 
 
 My Father and my God, who still 
 Is with my soul in every ill. 
 
 The rich man in his wealth confides ; 
 
 But in my God my trust abides. 
 
 Laugh as ye will, I hold 
 This one thing fast, that He hath taught : 
 
 Who trusts in God shall want for nought. 
 
 Yes, Lord : Thou art as rich to-day 
 As Thou hast been, and shall be aye : 
 
 I rest on Thee alone ; 
 
 Thy riches to my soul be given, 
 
 And ’tis enough for earth and heaven ! 
 
 Hans Sachs. 
 
 2785. POVERTY : the soil of virtue. 
 
 No soil like poverty for growth divine, 
 
 As leanest land supplies the richest mine. 
 Earth gives too little, giving only bread, 
 
 To nourish pride, or turn the weakest head. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 2786. POVERTY : the test of virtue. 
 
 And what is want ? ’Tis virtue’s test: 
 
 What weakness ? An escape from pride : 
 That life on earth may be the best 
 In which, by woe, the soul is tried : 
 
 For He whose word is ever sure, 
 
 Hath said that ‘ Blessed are the Poor .’— Weld. 
 
 2787. POWER. Monuments of misused 
 
 ’TlS not in mockery of man that earth 
 
 Is strew’d with splendid fragments, temple, tower 
 
PRAISE 540 PRAISE 
 
 That realms, where glory sprang full-arm’d to birth, 
 Are desolate, the snake and tiger’s bower ; — 
 They lie the monuments of misused power, 
 
 Not freaks of fate, but warnings against crime : 
 
 And ancient Babylon might, at this hour, 
 
 Had she been guiltless, stand as in her prime, 
 
 Nay, stand in growing pomp, till God had finish’d 
 time.— Croly. 
 
 2788. PRAISE. Demand for 
 
 Of all the creatures both in sea and land, 
 
 Only to man Thou hast made known Thy ways, 
 And put the pen alone into His hand, 
 
 And made him secretary of Thy praise. 
 
 Man is the world’s high-priest : he doth present 
 The sacrifice for all; while they below 
 Unto the service mutter an assent, 
 
 Such as springs use that fall, and winds that blow. 
 
 He that to praise and laud Thee doth refrain, 
 
 Doth not refrain unto himself alone, 
 
 But robs a thousand who would praise Thee fain. 
 And doth commit a world of sin in one.— Herbert. 
 
 2789. PRAISE. Duty of 
 
 Hark, my soul, how everything 
 Strives to serve our bounteous King; 
 
 Each a double tribute pays, 
 
 Sings its part, and then obeys. 
 
 Nature’s chief and sweetest choir 
 Him with cheerful notes admire ; 
 
 Chanting every day their lauds, 
 
 While the grove their song applauds. 
 
 Wake, for shame, my sluggish heart, 
 
 Wake, and gladly sing thy part ; 
 
 Learn of birds, and springs, and flowers, 
 
 How to use thy nobler powers.— Austin. 
 
 2790. PRAISE. Foolish desire for 
 
 Of praise a mere glutton, he swallow’d what came, 
 And the puff of a dunce he mistook it for fame ; 
 
 Till, his relish grown callous, almost to disease, 
 
 Who pepper’d the highest was surest to please. 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 2791. PRAISE. Life-long 
 
 Fill Thou my life, O Lord, my God, 
 
 In every part with praise, 
 
 That my whole being may proclaim 
 Thy being and Thy ways. 
 
 Not for the lip of praise alone, 
 
 Nor even the praising heart, 
 
 I ask, but for a life made up 
 Of praise in every part. 
 
 Praise in the common things of life, 
 
 Its goings out and in, 
 
 Praise in each duty, and each deed, 
 
 However small and mean. 
 
 Praise in the common words I speak, 
 
 Life’s common looks and tones, 
 
 In intercourse at hearth or board, 
 
 With my beloved ones. 
 
 Not in the temple-crowd alone, 
 
 Where holy voices chime, 
 
 But in the silent paths of earth, 
 
 The quiet rooms of time. 
 
 Upon the bed of weariness, 
 
 With fever’d eye and brain ; 
 
 Or standing by another’s couch, 
 
 Watching the pulse of pain. 
 
 Enduring wrong, reproach, or loss, 
 
 With sweet and steadfast will; 
 
 Loving and blessing those who hate, 
 Returning good for ill. 
 
 Surrendering my fondest will 
 In things or great or small, 
 
 Seeking the good of others still, 
 
 Nor pleasing self at all. 
 
 Fill every part of me with praise ; 
 
 Let all my being speak 
 Of Thee, and of Thy love, O Lord, 
 
 Poor though I be, and weak ! 
 
 So shalt Thou, Lord, from me, even me 
 Receive the glory due, 
 
 And so shall I begin on earth 
 The song for ever new. 
 
 So shall each fear, each fret, each care. 
 
 Be turned into song ; 
 
 And every winding of the way 
 The echo shall prolong. 
 
 So shall no part of day or night 
 From sacredness be free, 
 
 But all my life, in every step, 
 
 Be fellowship with Thee.— Bonar. 
 
 2792. PRAISE. Love of 
 
 The love of praise, howe’er conceal’d by art, 
 Reigns, more or less, and glows in every heart : 
 
 The proud, to gain it, toils on toils endure ; 
 
 The modest shun it but to make it sure. 
 
 O’er globes, and sceptres, now on thrones it swells : 
 Now, trims the midnight lamp in college cells. 
 
 ’Tis tory, whig ; it plots, prays, preaches, pleads, 
 Harangues in senates, squeaks in masquerades. 
 
PRAISE 541 PRAISE 
 
 --- -—-—.——--—-- : — 
 
 ■ 
 
 Here to Steel’s humour makes a bold pretence; 
 There, bolder, aims at Pultney’s eloquence. 
 
 It aids the dancer’s heel, the writer’s head, 
 
 And heaps the plain with mountains of the dead ; 
 •Nor ends with life ; but nods in sable plumes, 
 Adorns our hearse, and flatters on our tombs. 
 
 Young. 
 
 2793. PRAISE : not all of equal value. 
 
 That praise contents me more which one imparts 
 Of judgment sound, though of a mean degree, 
 Than praise from princes void of princely parts, 
 Who have more wealth, but not more wit, than he. 
 
 Earl of Stirling. 
 
 The gaudy glass of fortune only strikes 
 The vulgar eye ; the suffrage of the wise, 
 
 The praise that’s worth ambition, is attain’d 
 By sense alone, and dignity of mind. 
 
 A rmstrong. 
 My soul, 
 
 Like yours, is open to the charms of praise : 
 There is no joy beyond it, when the mind 
 Of him who hears it can with honest pride 
 Confess it just, and listen to its music. 
 
 Whitehead. 
 
 ' 2794. PRAISE : not to be our supreme desire. 
 
 Praise is but Virtue’s shadow; who courts her, 
 Doth more the handmaid than the dame admire. 
 
 Heath. 
 
 For praise too dearly loved, or warmly sought, 
 Enfeebles all internal strength of thought; 
 
 And the weak soul, within itself unblest, 
 
 Leans for all pleasure on another’s breast. 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 2795. PRAISE. Preciousness of 
 
 Praise of the wise and good !—it is a meed 
 For which I would long years of toil endure,— 
 Which many a peril, many a grief would cure. 
 
 Brydges. 
 
 2796. PRAISE. Rules for the bestowment of 
 
 Commend but sparingly whom thou dost love, 
 
 But less condemn whom thou dost not approve ; 
 
 Thy friend, like flattery, too much praise doth wrong, 
 And too sharp censure shows an evil tongue. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 Be thou the first true merit to befriend; 
 
 His praise is lost who waits till all commend. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 2797. PRAISE: the stimulus of virtue. 
 
 Or who would ever care to do brave deed, 
 
 Or strive in virtue others to excel, 
 
 If none should yield him his deserved meed,— 
 Due praise, —that is the spur of doing well ? 
 For if good were not praised more than ill, 
 
 None would choose goodness of his own free will. 
 
 Spenser. 
 
 One good deed, dying tongueless, 
 Slaughters a thousand, waiting upon that : 
 
 Our praises are our wages.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Praise of great acts he scatters, as a seed 
 Which may the like in coming ages breed. 
 
 Roscommon. 
 
 Praise 
 
 Is the reflection doth from virtue rise ; 
 
 These fair encomiums do virtue raise 
 To higher acts : to praise is to advise. 
 Telling men what they are, we let them see, 
 And represent to them what they should be. 
 
 Aleyn 
 
 Desire of praise first broke the patriot’s rest, 
 And made a bulwark of the warrior’s breast. 
 
 Young. 
 
 2798. PRAISE : to be offered at all times. 
 
 ‘ Praise God ! Praise God ! ’ 
 
 We smiling say, 
 
 With peace within our dwelling, 
 
 When love-light beams along our way, 
 
 And joy the heart is swelling. 
 
 ‘ Praise God ! Praise God ! ’ 
 
 We murmur low, 
 
 When wealth and friends forsaking, 
 
 Make dearer still the hearts we know 
 Still true to us, though breaking. 
 
 ‘ Praise God ! Praise God ! ’ 
 
 With faltering tone 
 We breathe o’er loved ones, lying 
 Beneath His rod, whose touch alone 
 Changed living into dying. 
 
 ‘ Praise God ! Praise God !’ 
 
 If from our grasp 
 He forced a long-sought treasure, 
 
 ’Tis but to grant with loving clasp 
 Some safer, purer pleasure. 
 
 ‘ Praise God ! Praise God ! ’ 
 
 Of all bereft 
 
 That makes life sweet and pleasant; 
 
 Seeking the only refuge left, 
 
 We find our Helper present. 
 
 ‘ Praise God ! Praise God ! ’ 
 
 With sobbing breath, 
 
 Low on our knees we pray it, 
 
 And ask for grace, defying Death, 
 Triumphantly to say it.— Kate V. Carpenter. 
 
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 2799. PRAISE : to Christ. 
 
 Oh could I speak the matchless worth 
 Oh could I sound the glories forth, 
 
 Which in my Saviour shine ! 
 
 I’d soar, and touch the heavenly strings, 
 
 And vie with Gabriel, while he sings 
 In notes almost Divine. 
 
 I’d sing the precious blood He spilt, 
 
 My ransom from the dreadful guilt 
 Of sin and wrath Divine : 
 
 I’d sing His glorious righteousness, 
 
 In which all-perfect, heavenly dress 
 My soul shall ever shine. 
 
 I’d sing the characters He bears, 
 
 And all the forms of love He wears, 
 
 Exalted on His throne : 
 
 In loftiest songs of sweetest praise, 
 
 J would to everlasting days 
 Make all His glories known. 
 
 Well, the delightful day will come, 
 
 When my dear Lord will bring me home, 
 And I shall see His face : 
 
 Then with my Saviour, Brother, Friend, 
 
 A blest eternity I’ll spend, 
 
 Triumphant in His grace.— Medley. 
 
 2800. PRAISE. True Object of 
 
 ‘Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us,’ 
 
 The praise or honour, power or glory, be ! 
 
 Our naked spirit bows in shame and dust, 
 
 And empty all our nothingness to Thee. 
 
 ‘ Not unto us ! ’ How trifling all our might, 
 
 Our toils or talents, gifts or growth or grace, 
 Nothing, and less than nothing, in Thy sight, 
 
 Ou? works, ourselves ! Before Thy glorious face. 
 
 ‘ Not unto us ; ’ O Lord of lords, supreme, 
 
 Whate’er we work, Thou workest ; Thine the 
 praise : 
 
 Oh wake us, cleanse us, light us with Thy beam, 
 And work, in us, through us, to endless days.’ 
 
 G. L. Taylor. 
 
 2801. PRAISE : varies. 
 
 And what is most commended at this time, 
 Succeeding ages may account a crime. 
 
 Eai'l of Stirling. 
 
 2802. PRAISE. Venomous 
 
 His praise of foes is venomously nice ; 
 
 So touch’d, it turns a virtue to a vice. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 . 
 
 Damn with faint praise, concede with civil leer. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 2803. PRAISE. Vulgar 
 
 I have no taste for the noisy praise 
 Of giddy crowds, as changeable as winds ; 
 Servants to change, and blowing with the tide 
 Of swoln success, but veering with its ebb. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 The worthlessness of common praise— 
 
 The dry-rot of the mind, 
 
 By which its temple secretly 
 
 But fast is undermined.— Miss London. 
 
 2804. PRAYER. A 
 
 Give me, O Father, to Thy throne access, 
 Unshaken seat of endless happiness ! 
 
 Give me, unveil’d, the source of good to see ! 
 
 Give me Thy light, and fix mine eyes on Thee ! 
 
 Boethius. 
 
 2805. PRAYER. A 
 
 O Thou, that holdest in Thy spacious hands 
 The destinies of men ! whose eye surveys 
 Their various actions ! Thou, whose temple stands 
 Above all temples ! Thou, whom all men praise ! 
 Of good the author ! Thou, whose wisdom sways 
 The universe ! all bounteous ! grant to me 
 Tranquillity, and health, and length of days ; 
 Good-will towards all, and reverence unto Thee; 
 
 Allowance for man’s failings, and of my own 
 The knowledge and the power to conquer all 
 Those evil things to which we are too prone— 
 Malice, hate, envy—all that ill we call. 
 
 To me a blameless life, Great Spirit, grant, 
 
 Nor burden’d with much care, nor narrow’d by 
 much want. 
 
 2806. PRAYER. Answer to 
 
 All night the lonely suppliant pray’d, 
 
 All night his earnest crying made ; 
 
 Till, standing by his side at morn, 
 
 The Tempter said, in bitter scorn, 
 
 ‘ Oh ! peace, what profit do you gain 
 From empty words and babblings vain ? 
 
 “ Come, Lord—oh, come ! ” you cry alway ; 
 You pour your heart out night and day ; 
 
 Yet still no murmur of reply— 
 
 No voice that answers, “ Here am I.” 
 
 Then sank that stricken heart in dust, 
 
 That word had wither’d all its trust; 
 
 No strength retain’d it now to pray, 
 
 For faith and hope had fled away ; 
 
 And ill that mourner now had fared, 
 
 Thus by the Tempter’s art ensnared, 
 
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 But that at length beside his bed 
 His sorrowing angel stood and said, 
 
 ‘ Doth it repent thee of thy love, 
 
 That never now is heard above 
 Thy prayer, that now not any more 
 It knocks at heaven’s gate as before ? ’ 
 
 ‘ I am cast out, I find no place, 
 
 No hearing at the throne of grace ; 
 
 “ Come, Lord, oh, come ! ” I cry alway, 
 
 I pour my heart out night and day, 
 
 Yet never until now have won 
 The answer, “ Here am I, my son.” ’ 
 
 Oh, dull of heart ! enclosed doth lie 
 In each ‘ Come, Lord,’ a ‘ Here am I.’ 
 
 Thy love, thy longing are not thine, 
 
 Reflections of a love Divine. 
 
 Thy very prayer to thee was given, 
 
 Itself a messenger from heaven. 
 
 Whom God rejects they are not so ; 
 
 Strong bands are round them in their woe ; 
 Their hearts are bound with bands of brass, 
 That sighs or crying cannot pass. 
 
 All treasures did the Lord impart 
 To Pharaoh, save a contrite heart ; 
 
 All other gifts unto His foes 
 He freely gives, nor grudging knows ; 
 
 But love’s sweet smart and costly pain 
 A treasure for his friends remain. 
 
 Oriental , tr. by R. C. Trench. 
 
 2807. PRAYER. Answer to 
 
 ‘ Allah, Allah ! ’ cried the sick man, rack’d with 
 pain the long night through ; 
 
 Till with prayer his heart grew tender, till his lips 
 like honey grew. 
 
 But at morning came the tempter, said, ‘ Call 
 louder, child of pain ! 
 
 See if Allah ever hears, or answers, “ Here am I ! ” 
 again.’ 
 
 Like a stab the cruel cavil through his brain and 
 pulses went; 
 
 To his heart an icy coldness, to his brain a darkness 
 sent. 
 
 Then before him stands Elias, says, ‘ My child, why 
 thus dismay’d ? 
 
 Dost repent thy former fervour? Is thy soul of 
 prayer afraid ? ’ 
 
 ‘Ah ! ’ he cried, ‘ I’ve call’d so often ; never heard 
 the “ Here am I : ” 
 
 And I thought God will not pity, will not turn on 
 me His eye.’ 
 
 Then the grave Elias answer’d, ‘God said, “ Rise, 
 Elias ; go 
 
 Speak to him the sorely tempted ; lift him from his 
 gulf of woe. 
 
 ‘ “Tell him that his very longing is itself an answer¬ 
 ing cry ; 
 
 That his prayer, ‘ Come, gracious Allah ! ’ is my 
 answer, ‘ Here am I.’ ” ’ 
 
 Every inmost aspiration is God’s angel undefiled ; 
 And in every ‘O my Father’ slumbers deep a 
 ‘ Here, my child ! ’ 
 
 Dscheladeddin , Tholack's Version. 
 
 2808. PRAYER. Answer to a mother’s 
 
 A mother’s holy arms caress’d 
 A babe that laugh’d upon her breast. 
 
 Then thus to heaven she cried in prayer • 
 
 ‘ Now, even as his face is fair, 
 
 O Lord ! keep Thou his soul within 
 As free from any spot of sin.’ 
 
 From heaven the Lord an answer made, 
 
 ‘ Behold ! I grant as thou hast pray’d.’ 
 
 Within her door the dai'kness crept, 
 
 And babe and mother sweetly slept. 
 
 The belfry rang the midnight bell; 
 
 The watchman answer’d, ‘All is well.’ 
 
 Awaking at the cradle side, 
 
 The mother knew the babe had died. 
 
 With grief to set a woman wild, 
 
 She caught and clasp’d the marble child— 
 
 Until her heart against his own 
 Was broken, beating on a stone. 
 
 ‘ O God ! ’ she cried in her despair, 
 
 ‘ Why hast Thou mock’d a mother’s prayer ? ’ 
 
 Then answer’d He, ‘ As I have will’d, 
 
 Thy prayer, O woman ! is fulfill’d : 
 
 ‘ If on the earth thy child remain, 
 
 His soul shall gather many a stain : 
 
 ‘ At thy behest, I reach my hand 
 To lift him to the heavenly land ! ’ 
 
 The mother heard and bow’d her head, 
 
 And laid her cheek against the dead. 
 
 And cried, ‘ O God ! I dare not pray—■ 
 
 Thou answerest in so strange a way ! ’ 
 
 In shadow of a taper’s light, 
 
 She sat and mourn’d the live-long night ; 
 
 But when the morning brought the sun, 
 
 She pray’d, ‘Thy will, O God, be done.’ 
 
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 2809. PRAYER. Best 
 
 PIe prayeth well who loveth well 
 Both man and bird and beast. 
 
 He prayeth best who loveth best 
 All things both great and small; 
 
 For the dear God who loveth us, 
 
 He made and loveth all.— Coleridge. 
 
 2810. PRAYER. Distractions in 
 
 Ah ! dearest Lord, I cannot pray, 
 
 My fancy is not free ; 
 
 Unmannerly distractions come, 
 
 And force my thoughts from Thee. 
 
 The world that looks so dull all day, 
 Grows bright on me at prayer ; 
 
 And plans that ask no thought but then, 
 Wake up and meet me there. 
 
 All nature one full fountain seems 
 Of dreamy sight and sound, 
 
 Which, when I kneel, breaks up its deeps, 
 And makes a deluge round. 
 
 Old voices murmur in my ear. 
 
 New hopes start into life, 
 
 And past and future gaily blend 
 In one bewitching strife. 
 
 Yet Thou art oft most present, Lord, 
 
 In weak, distracted prayer : 
 
 A sinner out of heart with self 
 Most often finds Thee there. 
 
 And prayer that humbles, sets the soul 
 From all illusions free, 
 
 And teaches it how utterly 
 
 It hangs, dear Lord, on Thee. — Faber. 
 
 2811. PRAYER. Divine help in 
 
 1. 
 
 Along the keys a child’s hand stray’d, 
 And discords fill’d the air ; 
 
 Even so my blundering heart, I said, 
 
 That seeks to voice its prayer. 
 
 I have no art to shape my speech, 
 
 My thoughts unsteady stray 
 
 Amid the countless cares that reach 
 From dawn to darkening day. 
 
 The melody I fain would lift 
 Breaks up in jangled chords, 
 
 Through which the voiceless longings drift 
 That cannot rise to words. 
 
 II. 
 
 The mother’s hands the child’s surround, 
 Knowledge and love combine, 
 
 That unskill’d fingers may give sound 
 To thoughts or hopes divine. 
 
 And those who hear the notes expand 
 Along the evening’s calm, 
 
 Cannot divide the baby’s hand 
 From mother’s circling palm. 
 
 Oh ! Love Divine, that reachest down 
 To choose the keys for me— 
 
 Amid each wild, discordant tone 
 Discerning melody— 
 
 Lay Thou the hand of grace along 
 My heart, and softly wreathe 
 Amid my failures the sweet song 
 Of hope I cannot breathe. 
 
 When ’round me evening’s shadows flow, 
 
 And the lesson is all done, 
 
 Only my heart and God will know 
 His hand and mine were one. 
 
 2812. PRAYER. Evening 
 
 Let me ask Thee, ere I sleep, 
 
 To remember those who weep,— 
 
 Those who moan with some wild sorrow, 
 
 That shall di-ead to meet the morrow ; 
 
 Let me ask Thee to abide 
 At the fainting sick one’s side, 
 
 Where the plaints of anguish rise 
 In smother’d groans and weary sighs : 
 
 Give them strength to brook and bear 
 Trial pain and trial care ; 
 
 Let them see Thy saving light; 
 
 Be Thou ‘ watchman of their night.’ 
 
 Eliza Cook. 
 
 2813. PRAYER. Evening 
 
 Canst thou thy body on thy bed compose, 
 
 The resting-place whence it no more may rise, 
 Till the Archangel’s trump unseal thine eyes, 
 
 And call thee hence to judgment; canst thou close 
 Those eyes with comfort, and in peace repose, 
 Before thou lift thy voice, and to the skies 
 Send up devotion’s Evening Sacrifice, 
 
 Sweet as the fumes which from the censer rose ? 
 
 Ere on thy thoughts oblivious slumber creep, 
 
 Ere the still sleep can lull thy pillow’d head, 
 
 To Him, whose eyelids slumber not, nor sleep, 
 Commend thy spirit : that about thy bed 
 His wing may shield thee, and His feathers keep. 
 Sustain thee living, or receive thee dead !— Marti. 
 
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 2814. PRAYER. Fervent 
 
 Inquirer, cease! petitions yet remain 
 
 Which Heaven may hear ; nor deem religion Vain, 
 
 Still raise for good the supplicating voice, 
 
 But leave to Heaven the measure and the choice 
 Safe in His power, whose eyes discern afar 
 The secret ambush of a specious prayer : 
 
 Implore His aid, in His decisions rest, 
 
 Secure, whate’er He gives, He gives the best. 
 
 Yet, when the sense of sacred presence fires, 
 
 And strong devotion to the skies aspires, 
 
 Pour forth thy fervours for a healthful mind, 
 Obedient passions, and a will resign’d : 
 
 For love, which scarce collective man can fill; 
 
 For patience, sovereign o’er transmuted ill; 
 
 For faith, that, panting for a happier seat, 
 
 Counts death kind Nature’s signal for retreat: 
 
 These goods for man the laws of Heaven ordain J 
 These goods He grants who grants the power to gain: 
 . With these, celestial wisdom calms the mind, 
 
 And makes the happiness she does not find. 
 
 Johnson. 
 
 2815. PRAYER. Formal 
 
 I often say my prayers ; 
 
 But do I ever pray ? 
 
 And do the wishes of my heart 
 Go with the words I say ? 
 
 I may as well kneel down 
 And worship gods of stone, 
 
 As offer to the living God 
 A prayer of words alone. 
 
 For words without the heart 
 The Lord will never hear ; 
 
 Nor will He to those lips attend 
 
 Whose prayers are not sincere.— Burton. 
 
 2816. PRAYER. Hour of 
 
 My God ! is any hour so sweet, 
 
 From blush of morn to evening star, 
 
 As that which calls me to Thy feet— 
 
 The hour of prayer ? 
 
 Words cannot tell what blest relief' 
 
 Here from my every want I find, 
 
 What strength for warfare, balm for grief; 
 
 What peace of mind. 
 
 Hush’d is each doubt; gone every fear ; 
 
 My spirit seems in heaven to stay: 
 
 And e’en the penitential tear 
 
 Is wiped away. — Charlotte Elliott . 
 
 2817. PRAYER. Humble 
 
 In reverence will we speak of those who woo 
 The ear Divine with clear and ready prayer; 
 
 And while their voices cleave the Sabbath air. 
 Know their bright thoughts are winging heavenward 
 too. 
 
 Yet many a one,—‘the latchet of whose shoe* 
 
 These might not loose'—will often only dare 
 Lay some poor words between him and despair— 
 ‘Father, forgive ! we know not what we do.’ 
 
 R. M. Milncs. 
 
 2818. PRAYER. Hymn of 
 
 From the recesses of a lowly spirit 
 Our humble prayer ascends ; O Father, hear it! 
 Upsoaring on the wings of awe and meekness, 
 Forgive its weakness ! 
 
 I know, I feel, how mean and how unworthy 
 The trembling sacrifice I pour before Thee ; 
 
 What can I offer in Thy presence holy, 
 
 But sin and folly? 
 
 For in Thy sight—who every bosom viewest— 
 
 Cold are our warmest vows, and vain our truest; 
 Thoughts of a hurrying hour; our lips repeat them. 
 Our hearts forget them. 
 
 We see Thy hand—it leads us, it supports us ; 
 
 We hear Thy voice—it counsels and it courts us ; 
 And then we turn away ; and still Thy kindness 
 Forgives our blindness. 
 
 And still Thy rain descends, Thy sun is glowing, 
 Fruits ripen round, flowers are beneath us blowing. 
 And, as if man were some deserving creature, 
 
 Joys cover nature. 
 
 Oh, how long-suffering, Lord ! but Thou delightest 
 To win with love the wandering : Thou invitest, 
 
 By smiles of mercy, not by frowns or terrors, 
 
 Man from his errors. 
 
 Who can resist Thy gentle call, appealing 
 To every generous thought and grateful feeling? 
 
 That voice paternal—whispering, watching ever. 
 
 My bosom?—never. 
 
 Father and Saviour ! plant within each bosom 
 The seeds of holiness, and bid them blossom 
 In fragrance and in beauty bright and vernal, 
 
 And spring eternal. 
 
 Then place them in those everlasting gardens, 
 
 Where angels walk, and seraphs are the wardens ; 
 Where every flower that creeps through death’s dark 
 portal 
 
 Becomes immortal.— Bowring. 
 
 2819. PRAYER : in active life. 
 
 Business might shorten, not disturb, her prayer : 
 Heaven had the best, if not the greater, share : 
 
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 An active life long orisons forbids ; 
 
 ^Yet still she pray’d, for still she pray’d by deeds. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 2820. PRAYER. Influence of 
 
 There is an eye that never sleeps 
 Beneath the wing of night; 
 
 There is an ear that never shuts. 
 
 When sink the beams of light. 
 
 There is an arm that never tires, 
 
 When human strength gives way ; 
 
 There is a love that never fails, 
 
 When earthly loves decay. 
 
 That eye is fix’d, on seraph throngs ; 
 
 That ear is fill’d with angels’ songs ; 
 
 That arm upholds the worlds on high; 
 
 That love is throned beyond the sky. 
 
 But there’s a power which man can wield 
 When mortal aid is vain, 
 
 That eye, that arm, that love to reach. 
 
 That listening ear to gain ; 
 
 That power is prayer, which soars on high. 
 
 And feeds on bliss beyond the sky. 
 
 2821. PRAYER. Intercessory 
 
 And we are told 
 
 How much the prayers of righteous men avail; 
 
 And yet ’tis strange how very few believe 
 These blessed words, or act as were they true. 
 
 One reason of this incredulity 
 
 May be, that conscience whispers to their souls, 
 
 * Not righteous men are ye.’ And thus they think 
 That useless it would be to strive in prayer 
 Eor others’ good, when scarcely for themselves 
 They hope for mercy. Lukewarm hearts and faint. 
 Lift up your feeble hands and bend the knee; 
 
 A Mightier than ye your guilt hath borne, 
 
 And for His sake, not yours, all prayer is heard. 
 
 Lady Chatterton. 
 
 2822. PRAYER : is often unwise. 
 
 We, ignorant of ourselves. 
 
 Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers 
 Deny us for our good; so find we profit 
 By losing of our prayers.— Shakespeare. 
 
 God gives us what He knows our wants require. 
 And better things than those which we desire : 
 Some pray for riches ; riches they obtain; 
 
 But, watch’d by robbers, for their wealth are slain : 
 Some pray from prison to be freed, and come. 
 When guilty of their vows, to fall at home ; 
 Murder’d by those they trusted with their life,— 
 
 A favour’d servant, or a bosom wife : 
 
 Such dear-bought blessings happen every day, 
 Because we know not for what things to pray. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 Ignorant of happiness, and blind to ruin, 
 
 How oft are our petitions our undoing ! 
 
 Harte . 
 
 The few that pray at all pray oft amiss ; 
 
 And, seeking grace t’ improve the prize they hold, 
 Would urge a wiser suit than asking more.— Cowfier. 
 
 A sad estate 
 
 Of human wretchedness ! so weak is man, 
 
 So ignorant and blind, that did not God 
 Sometimes withhold in mercy what we ask, 
 
 We should be ruin’d at our own request. 
 
 Hannah More. 
 
 2823. PRAYER : its Nature and Blessedness. 
 
 Prayer is the breath of God in man, 
 Returning whence it came ; 
 
 Love is the sacred fire within. 
 
 And prayer the rising flame. 
 
 It gives the burden’d spirit ease, 
 
 And soothes the troubled breast, 
 
 Yields comfort to the mourning soul. 
 
 And to the weary rest. 
 
 The prayers and praises of the saints. 
 
 Like precious odours sweet, 
 
 Ascend and spread a rich perfume 
 Around the mercy-seat. 
 
 When God inclines the heart to pray. 
 
 He hath an ear to hear ; 
 
 To Him there’s music in a groan, 
 
 And beauty in a tear. 
 
 The humble suppliant cannot fail 
 To have his wants supplied, 
 
 Since He for sinners intercedes, 
 
 Who once for sinners died.— Beddome. 
 
 2824. PRAYER. Toy in 
 
 Any heart, turn’d Godward, feels more joy 
 In one short hour of prayer, than e’er was raised 
 By all the feasts on earth since their foundation. 
 
 Bailey. 
 
 2825. PRAYER. Limit to 
 
 If by prayer 
 
 Incessant I could hope to change the will 
 Of Him who all things can, I would not cease 
 To weary Him with my assiduous cries. 
 
 But prayer against His absolute decree 
 No more avails than breath against the wind, 
 Blows stifling back on him that breathes it forth : 
 Therefore to His great bidding I submit.— Milton, 
 
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 2S26. PRAYER. Need of 
 
 When prayer delights the least, then learn to say, 
 Soul, now is greatest need that thou shouldst pray. 
 Crooked and warp’d I am, and I would fain 
 Straighten myself by thy right line again. 
 
 Oh come, warm sun, and ripen my late fruits ; 
 Pierce, genial showers, down to my parched roots. 
 My well is bitter ; cast therein the tree, 
 
 That sweet henceforth its brackish waves may be. 
 Say what is prayer, when it is prayer indeed ? 
 
 The mighty utterance of a mighty need. 
 
 The man is praying, who doth press with might 
 Out of his darkness into God’s own light. 
 
 Flowers, from their stalks divided, presently 
 Droop, fail, and wither in the gazer’s eye. 
 
 The greenest leaf divided from its stem, 
 
 To speedy wintering doth itself condemn. 
 
 The largest river from its fountain-head 
 Cut off, leaves soon a paixh’d and dusty bed. 
 
 All things that live, from God their sustenance wait, 
 And sun and moon^re beggars at His gate. 
 
 Trench. 
 
 2827. PRAYER : not useless. 
 
 * Why wilt thou pray? why storm with cries 
 His ear who rides the thundering skies, ] 
 
 And passes wrathful by ? 
 
 His laws stand firm ; Pie may not hear ; 
 
 Thy life, thy death, in His career 
 Are but as steps. He will not hear 
 Though thou shalt loudly cry.’ 
 
 Most like, most like! yet the soft tear 
 Fresh dropt upon the senseless bier 
 Hath virtue—nor that small. 
 
 The sod why dost thou strew with flowers ? 
 
 The dead man walks not in thy bowers, 
 
 He will not rise to sorrow’s showers, 
 
 Nor feel when soft flowers fall; 
 
 And yet thou weep’st. Much more may’st thou 
 Pay to the living God thy vow, 
 
 And pour the heart-felt prayer. 
 
 Deft Logic is but Reason’s tool, 
 
 Reason a child in Nature’s school; 
 
 We may not joy nor grieve by rule. 
 
 Nor syllogize a prayer.— Blac hie. 
 
 2828. PRAYER. Objects of 
 
 Be not afraid to pray—to pray is right. 
 
 Pray if thou canst, with hope, 
 
 Though hope be weak, or sick with long delay ; 
 Pray in the darkness, if there be no light. 
 
 Far is the time, remote from human sight. 
 
 When war and discord on the earth shall cease ; 
 Yet every prayer for universal peace 
 
 Avails the blessed time to expedite. 
 
 Whate’er is good to wish, ask that of Heaven, 
 Though it be what thou canst not hope or see ; 
 Pray to be perfect, though material leaven 
 Forbid the spirit so on earth to be ; 
 
 But if for any wish thou darest not pray. 
 
 Then pray to God to cast that wish away. 
 
 Hartley Coleridge. 
 
 2829. PRAYER. Offensive 
 
 His comrade too arose, 
 
 And with the outward forms 
 Of righteousness and prayer insulted God. 
 
 Southey. 
 
 2830. PRAYER. Offerings in 
 
 Lord ! Who art merciful as well as just, 
 
 Incline Thine ear to me, a child of dust. 
 
 Not what I would, O Lord! I offer Thee, 
 
 Alas ! but what I can. 
 
 Father Almighty ! Who hast made me man, 
 
 And bade me look to heaven, for Thou art there. 
 Accept my sacrifice and humble prayer. 
 
 Four things, which are not in Thy treasury, 
 
 I lay before Thee, Lord, with this petition : 
 
 My nothingness, my wants. 
 
 My sins, and my contrition.— Southey. 
 
 2831. PRAYER. Perseverance in 
 
 The watcher stood on Carmel’s height, 
 
 With eager, longing eye, 
 
 Gazing across the sobbing sea. 
 
 Scanning the burning sky ; 
 
 While with bow’d head between his knees, 
 Scorch’d by the sun’s fierce glow, 
 
 The Prophet, press’d with anguish sore, 
 Pray’d in the vale below ; 
 
 Watch’d for the coming of the cloud; 
 
 Pray’d for the blessed rain 
 To shade the burning of the sky, 
 
 To cheer the earth again— 
 
 The cloud with wind, like breath of God, 
 Among the thick tree-tops, 
 
 The rain, like rush of angel’s wings, 
 Murm’rous with pattering drops ! 
 
 ‘ Nothing! nothing! ’ the watcher cried ; 
 
 ‘ No cloud, no sign of rain! 
 
 The same fierce sun that bums the earth 
 Burns o’er the watery main.’ 
 
 Again the Prophet bow’d his head 
 Between his knees and pray’d; 
 
 Again the watcher’s eye look’d for 
 The blessing still delay'd. 
 
 ‘ Nothing ! nothing! ’ the watcher cried; 
 
 ‘ No cloud, no sign of rain ! ’ 
 
PR A YER 
 
 548 
 
 PR A YER 
 
 The Prophet, labouring in prayer 
 Bow’d ’twixt his knees again ; 
 
 And thus twice, thrice, seven times they strove, 
 With faith that cannot fail— 
 
 One watching in the mount above. 
 
 One wrestling in the vale ! 
 
 Oh can it be the God whose breath 
 Bums like consuming fire, 
 
 Scorching the earth, and sky, and sea, 
 
 With blast of judgment dire— 
 
 Oh can it be the God whose flame 
 Consumes the sacrifice, 
 
 The wood, stones, water, all ablaze 
 In incense to the skies— 
 
 Oh can it be this God, whose wrath 
 Our prostrate souls approve, 
 
 So burning in His holiness— 
 
 Is not a God of love ? 
 
 O Heaven, for Thy dear mercy’s sake, 
 
 Accept our sacrifice ! 
 
 Dissolve this spell of burning wrath ! 
 
 Oh melt these brazen skies ! 
 
 Seven times the two souls watch’d and pray’d, 
 Seven times with faith and hope, 
 
 When from the sea a little cloud 
 Pushes its finger up ! 
 
 A hand! a hand ! a cloud-form’d hand! 
 
 The hand God’s chosen find 
 Always reveal’d to point before 
 When God is close behind! 
 
 And, swelling in proportions vast, 
 
 Reveals an awful form : 
 
 God, coming in His majesty, 
 
 God, in the blessed storm, 
 
 Blackening the heavens with clouds and wind, 
 Pouring the welcome rain, 
 
 Filling the thirsty earth with floods 
 Of life and joy again !. 
 
 O watchers on the mountain height, 
 
 Stand with eye steadfast there ! 
 
 O wrestlers in the vale beneath, 
 
 Cease not your sevenfold prayer! 
 
 God will not always frown ; He will 
 Accept your sacrifice 
 Of loving hearts and praying hands ; 
 
 God will in love arise ! 
 
 A finger, hand, an arm, a form 
 Of power and grace Divine ! 
 
 The heavens shall swell with blessed showers, 
 The earth with rain-drops shine ! 
 
 Oh dare with joyful hearts to bring 
 The sacrifice of blood l 
 
 While Hope stands watching on the mount, 
 
 And Faith lays hold on God! 
 
 2832. PRAYER. Power of 
 
 But that from us aught should ascend to heaven 
 
 So prevalent as to concern the mind 
 
 Of God high blest, or to incline His will, 
 
 Hard to belief may seem ; yet this will prayer. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 Temporal blessings Heaven doth often share 
 
 Unto the wicked, at the good man’s prayer. 
 
 Quarles. 
 
 'A good man’s prayers 
 
 Will from the deepest dungeon climb to heaven’s 
 height. 
 
 And bring a blessing down .—Joanna Baillie. 
 
 2833. PRAYER. Secret 
 
 Go when the morning shineth, 
 
 Go when, the noon is bright, 
 
 Go when the eve declineth, 
 
 Go in the hush of night: 
 
 Go with pure mind and feeling, 
 
 Fling every fear away, 
 
 And in thy chamber kneeling, 
 
 Do thou in secret pray. 
 
 Remember all who love thee, 
 
 All who are loved by thee ; 
 
 Pray, too, for those who hate thee ; 
 
 If any such there be : 
 
 Then, for thyself, in meekness, 
 
 A blessing humbly claim, 
 
 And link with each petition 
 Thy great Redeemer’s name. 
 
 Or, if ’tis e’er denied thee 
 In solitude to pray, 
 
 Should holy thoughts come o’er thee 
 When friends are round thy way, 
 
 E’en then the silent breathing 
 Of thy spirit raised above, ; 
 
 May reach His throne of glory, 
 
 Who is mercy, truth, and love.— Bell. 
 
 2834. PRAYER. Silent 
 
 Ere on my bed my limbs I lay, 
 
 It hath not been my use to pray, 
 
 With moving lips or bended knees; 
 
 But silently, by slow degrees, 
 
 My spirit I to love compose, 
 
 In humble trust my eyelids close. 
 
 With reverential resignation. 
 
PR A YER 
 
 549 
 
 PR A YER 
 
 No wish conceived, no thought express’d, 
 Only a sense of supplication ; 
 
 A sense o’er all my soul impress’d 
 That I am weak, yet not unblest, 
 
 Since in me, round me, everywhere 
 Eternal strength and wisdom are.— Coleridge. 
 
 Fountain of mercy ! whose pervading eye 
 Can look within and read what passes there, 
 Accept my thoughts for thanks ; I have no words. 
 My soul, o’erfraught with gratitude, rejects 
 jThe aid of language—Lord !—behold my heart. 
 
 Hannah Afore, 
 
 Oh ! when, with fretted palm, we cry, 
 
 ‘ Lord, save us from despair! ’ 
 
 Yet with no feeling in our heart. 
 
 Dead silence is our prayer. 
 
 But when, with anguish in our heart 
 So great we think to die, 
 
 We merely turn our face to God, 
 
 Our silence is a cry !— Hozuard. 
 
 k 
 
 2835. PRAYER. Submission in 
 
 Still raise for good the supplicating voice, 
 
 But leave to Heaven the measure and the choice. 
 
 Johnson, 
 
 2836. PRAYER. Thanks for the rejection of 
 
 Thank God that yet I live! 
 
 In tender mercy, heeding not the prayer 
 I boldly utter’d in my first despair, 
 
 He would not give 
 
 The punishment an erring spirit braved ! 
 
 Mrs Neal, 
 
 2837. PRAYER : the key of Heaven. 
 
 Heaven is the magazine wherein God puts 
 Both good and evil; prayer’s the key that shuts 
 And opens this great treasure ; ’tis a key 
 Whose wards are Faith, and Hope, and Charity. 
 Would’st thou prevent a judgment due to sin? 
 Turn but the key, and thou may’st lock it in. 
 
 Or would’st thou have a blessing fall upon thee ! 
 Open the door, and it will shower on thee. 
 
 Quarles, 
 
 2838. PRAYER. Thoughtless 
 
 My words fly up, my thoughts remain below ; 
 Words, without thoughts, never to heaven go. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 2839. PRAYER. Unceasing 
 
 When all is bright and gay, 
 
 I will pray, 
 
 And foil the tempter’s art, 
 
 Lest sunshine lure my heart 
 From the way. 
 
 When darkness follows day, 
 
 I will pray ; 
 
 And my tearful eyes shall see 
 That love is guiding me 
 On the way. 
 
 Let life bring what it may, 
 
 I will pray; 
 
 If I cannot understand, 
 
 I will hold my Father’s hand, 
 
 All the way. 
 
 2S40. PRAYER? What is 
 
 Is prayer an outward form, 
 
 The bending of the knee, 
 
 The meekly folding of the hands, 
 
 And eyes upturn’d to Thee? 
 
 To us this form is prayer, 
 
 We only know in part, 
 
 But God will never hear our words, 
 
 Unless they’re from the heart. 
 
 Then though our words be few, 
 
 And poorly framed at best, 
 
 He does not look to outward form, 
 
 But heeds the heart’s request. 
 
 Lord, dear Lord, we often cry, 
 
 Down deep within the breast; 
 
 We are tired and weary of our load ; 
 
 We come to Thee for rest! 
 
 2841. PRAYER: why it is often left unanswered. 
 
 On the terse heroic pages 
 Of the stately elder time, 
 
 Where the wisdom of the ages 
 Lives in melody sublime, 
 
 I this story long ago 
 
 Read, the sunbeams dropping low. 
 
 Through the leaves of oak and maple. 
 
 On the brown and ancient book ; 
 
 With the scent of pear and apple, 
 
 And the lapping of the brook. 
 
 And the vestal lilies white, 
 
 Each a separate delight. 
 
 ’Twas the Argive mother’s story, 
 
 She who, borne to Juno’s feast 
 By her sons, her pride, her glory, 
 
 Nobler none in west or east, 
 
 Lifted up her voice in prayer 
 To the goddess, crown’d and fair. 
 
PR A YER 
 
 55 ° 
 
 PR A VERS 
 
 ‘Give to these,’ so cried the mother, 
 
 * These my darlings, I implore, 
 
 Some rich guerdon, like no other, 
 
 Make them joyful evermore ; 
 
 Bless them, touch them, queenly heart. 
 With thine own divinest art.’ 
 
 Pour’d she then the choice libation 
 Of the sacrificial wine. 
 
 Ah ! the bursts of acclamation ! 
 
 Ah ! how bright the sun did shine ! 
 Stole a whisper through the noon— 
 
 ‘ Woman, granted is thy boon.’ 
 
 Turning, beautiful with gladness, 
 
 All her soul’s ecstatic grace 
 Beaming, burning, shaming sadness, 
 Lighting ardently her face, 
 
 Forth she stepp’d, her matron brow 
 Proud and calm as Juno’s now. 
 
 As before a progress royal 
 Parted all the eager throng, 
 
 And, to Juno’s brightness loyal, 
 
 Fed her heart with shout and song. 
 
 Still that whisper through the noon 
 Told her ‘ Granted is thy boon.’ 
 
 * Are ye sleeping'? Waken! Waken! 
 
 First-born, twin-born sons of mine ! 
 
 I for you in prayer have taken 
 Pledge and vow at Juno’s shrine. 
 Sorrow, pain, or creeping fears 
 Shall not blight your manly years. 
 
 ‘Waken ! Wherefore sleep in daylight; 
 
 Ah !-h ’—a bitter, wailing cry ; 
 
 Sudden, awful, hath the grey night 
 Fallen from the radiant sky. 
 
 Is it thus ? hath Juno heard ? 
 
 Keeps she so her plighted word ? 
 
 Dead—both sons ! Nay, broken-hearted, 
 Hapless mother, ’twas thy prayer 
 That no trial poison-darted 
 
 Evermore their souls should bear. 
 
 They are glad, with gladness great, 
 
 Lifted far from evil fate. 
 
 Did the mother feel it ? Lonely, 
 Desolate, grown too early old. 
 
 It was Juno’s answer. Only 
 
 Prayer unheard had been less cold. 
 ’Twas a pitiless gift in sooth, 
 
 Emptied arms and blasted youth. 
 
 Do we ken how our petitions 
 
 Granted might, like swords of wrath, 
 Sweep away the sweet conditions 
 And the mercies from our path, 
 
 Leave us shorn of all our pride, 
 
 Fenceless, trampled, cast aside? 
 
 Do we ken ? Oh, dear compassion, 
 
 Gracious ruth, that bids us wait, 
 
 Though we mourn, in thankless fashion, 
 
 That the answers tarry late, 
 
 And, o’erwhelm’d by waves of care, 
 
 Have no patience in our prayer ! 
 
 Margaret E. Sangstcr. 
 
 2842. PRAYERS. Folly of selfish 
 
 How we, poor players on Life’s little stage, 
 
 Thrust blindly at each other in our rage, 
 
 Quarrel and fret, yet rashly dare to pray 
 To God to help us in our selfish way. 
 
 We think to move Him with our prayer and praise, 
 To serve our needs—as in the old Greek days 
 Their gods came down and mingled in the fight, 
 With mightier arms the flying foe to smite. 
 
 The laughter of those gods peal’d down to men, 
 
 For heaven was but earth’s upper story then, 
 
 Where goddesses about an apple strove, 
 
 And the high gods fell humanly in love. 
 
 We own a God whose presence fills the sky— 
 Whose sleepless eyes behold the worlds roll by— 
 Whose faithful memory numbers, one by one, 
 
 The sons of men, and calls them each His son. 
 
 He loves us all—is patient with our sin— 
 
 Spreads wide His door, and bids us enter in— 
 
 Yet holds no man above his humblest brother, 
 
 And loves us least when least we love each other. 
 
 How idle, then, to pray for mine and thine, 
 
 To seek for earthly ends the grace divine, 
 
 To hope for health in storing up our gold, 
 
 That we be warm while other men are cold ! 
 
 He loves us all; and from His waiting feast 
 Will turn away no meanest one, or least— 
 
 But all His guests must come in friendly guise. 
 Since Love, bright angel, guards His Paradise, 
 
 And swift as lightning shuts its gleaming gate 
 Against the soul that learns to love too late. 
 
 Louise C. Moulton. 
 
 2843. PRAYERS. Two 
 
 Two went to pray ? Oh, rather say, 
 
 One went to brag, the other to pray. 
 
 One stands up close, and treads on high, 
 Where the other dares not lend his eye. 
 
 One nearer to God’s altar trod ; 
 
 The other to the altar’s God.— Crashaw , 
 
PR A YERS 
 
 PREACHERS 
 
 55i 
 
 2844. PRAYERS. Unspoken 
 
 High thoughts and words, and music strong and 
 sweet, 
 
 Are worship’s token; 
 
 But tears that drop in love at Jesu’s feet 
 Are prayers unspoken! 
 
 2845. PREACHER. Example of a 
 
 Would I describe a preacher, such as Paul, 
 
 Were he on earth, would hear, approve, and own— 
 Paul should himself direct me. I would trace 
 His master-strokes, and draw from his design. 
 
 I would express him simple, grave, sincere ; 
 
 In doctrine, uncorrupt; in language, plain ; 
 
 And plain in manner; decent, solemn, chaste. 
 
 And natural in gesture ; much impress’d 
 Plimself, as conscious of his awful charge, 
 
 And anxious mainly that the flock he feeds 
 May feel it too. Affectionate in look, 
 
 And tender in address, as well becomes 
 A messenger of grace to guilty men.— Cowper. 
 
 2846. PREACHER. Lament of a 
 
 Oft, in the summer days, I’ve mark’d some wild 
 On which the sower vainly spent his toil; 
 Heaven’s showers distill’d, but still no verdure 
 smiled 
 
 O’er all the cheerless length of that obdurate soil. 
 
 How fitly pictures this dull waste, methought. 
 
 The arid wilderness I plough in vain ! 
 
 ‘Cursing’ steals on apace, to doom the spot 
 Where only thorns repay the Spirit’s gracious rain. 
 
 Lord of the vineyard, with Thy power descend ! 
 Breathe on these hearts of stone, and bid them 
 live ! 
 
 The garden’s beauty to the desert lend. 
 
 And for the encumbering weed the rose of Sharon 
 give !— Eastburn. • 
 
 2847. PREACHER. Learned 
 
 Of the deep learning in the schools of yore, 
 
 The reverend pastor hath a golden stock ; 
 
 Yet, with a vain display of useless lore, 
 
 Or sapless doctrine, never will he mock 
 The anxious cravings of his simple flock ! 
 
 But faithfully their humble shepherd guides 
 
 Where streams eternal gush from Calvary’s rock ; 
 Eor well he knows, not learning’s purest tides 
 Can quench the immortal thirst that in the soul 
 abides.— Mrs Rittle. 
 
 2848. PREACHER. Respect for the 
 
 « 
 
 I venerate 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. 
 
 To such I render more than mere respect, 
 
 Whose actions say that they respect themselves. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 2849. PREACHER. Sobriety of the 
 
 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 to address 
 The skittish fancy with facetious tales 
 When sent with God’s commission to the heart. 
 
 So did not Paul. Direct me to a quip 
 Or merry turn m all he ever wrote, 
 
 And I consent you take it for your text, 
 
 Your only one, till sides and benches fail. 
 
 No : he was serious in a serious cause, 
 
 And understood too well the weighty terms 
 That he had taken in charge. He would not stoop 
 To conquer those by jocular exploits 
 Whom truth and soberness assail’d in vain. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 2850. PREACHERS. A warning for 
 
 The poet Andreas one night 
 
 Stood wrapt in dreams of proud delight. 
 
 For he was great; his skilful thought, 
 
 From common things in beauty wrought 
 Ethereal fancies, strange and sweet. 
 
 He saw the world beneath his feet; 
 
 And, as his spirit mounted higher. 
 
 Wing’d by its own poetic fire, 
 
 He almost thought, with step elate. 
 
 To enter at the heavenly gate, 
 
 And see the white and rapid wings 
 Of angels bearing offerings. 
 
 But suddenly he turn’d, aware 
 Of some new presence in the air. 
 
 And lo ! amid the gathering gloom 
 That fell unheeded in the room, 
 
 An angel stood, more pure and bright 
 Than any in his dreams of light. 
 
 The poet, fill’d with awed surprise. 
 
 Was mute before those holy eyes, 
 
 And bent his head. The angel spoke. 
 
 And thus the solemn stillness broke : 
 
PREACHERS 
 
 552 
 
 PREACHERS 
 
 ‘ Believest thou these thoughts divine 
 Are sprung from God, or wholly thine ? * 
 
 The poet slowly raised his head, 
 
 And almost proudly thus he said,— 
 
 * I know them all! Their fibres twine 
 About my soul, and they are mine! * 
 
 Then said the angel, mournfully, 
 
 * As thou hast spoken let it be! 
 
 No longer shall the breath of heaven 
 In music to thy soul be given; 
 
 And thou, alone, shalt go thy ways. 
 
 And thine alone shall be the praise 1 * 
 
 And then the vision and the voice. 
 
 Like some long echo of lost joys. 
 
 From out the chamber dim were gone. 
 
 And Andreas stood all alone. 
 
 The morning touch’d him with its wings. 
 
 The cool wind with its murmurings 
 Pass’d close to him. The dreamy sky 
 Look’d down upon him tenderly, 
 
 And in his ear the awful sea 
 Spoke ever things of mystery ; 
 
 But through this beauty of the earth. 
 
 Which had in heaven its secret birth. 
 
 He pass’d unquicken’d and alone. 
 
 As if with fancy turn’d to stone. 
 
 And so he went from nature. Then 
 He sought to find his fellow-men. 
 
 For ever had the mystery 
 Of life in its diversity— 
 
 Its many hopes and many fears, 
 
 Its many smiles and many tears— 
 
 Had power to move him; but, alas. 
 
 Through even these his soul could pass 
 Untouch’d and lifeless ; for below 
 This human joy and human woe, 
 
 Far in the depths of every heart, 
 
 God’s holy Presence dwelt apart;—- 
 The Presence which with wondrous store 
 Of deep revealings came no more. 
 
 He fled into a desert place, 
 
 And falling down upon his face, 
 
 He cried out in his agony, 
 
 ‘ The Lord is gone away from me l 
 The Lord, to whom my evil pride 
 His own Divinity denied ! ’ 
 
 And then a voice that seem’d a strain 
 From some low, heavenly refrain 
 Said, ‘ Thou hast turn’d away from me. 
 
 But I am ever close to thee ! 
 
 Arise and write ! ’ The solemn air 
 Breathed round him like an answer’d prayer; 
 And he arose and went his ways. 
 
 And after that, the legend says, 
 
 The poet Andreas became 
 As one inspired ; his very name 
 Was cherish’d as a word of grace 
 By other men. But from his face 
 And from his earnest eyes had fled 
 All pride of self, and in its stead 
 Had come the deep humility 
 Of one who prays ; for constantly, 
 
 By day and night, at morn and even, 
 
 Beside the very gate of heaven, 
 
 His spirit stood with unshod feet, 
 
 The coming of the Lord to meet. 
 
 M. W. Lincoln . 
 
 2851. PREACHERS : their disappointments. 
 
 High thoughts at first and visions high 
 Are ours of easy victory; 
 
 The word we bear seems so divine; 
 
 So framed for Adam’s guilty line, 
 
 That none, unto ourselves we say. 
 
 Of all his sinning, suffering race, 
 
 Wijl hear that word so full of grace, 
 
 And coldly turn away. 
 
 But soon a sadder mood comes round ; 
 High hopes have fallen to the ground, 
 
 And the ambassadors of peace 
 Go weeping that men will not cease 
 
 To strive with Heaven ; they inly mourn 
 That suffering men will not be blest, 
 
 That weary men refuse to rest, 
 
 And wanderers to return. 
 
 Well is it, if has not ensued 
 Another yet unworthier mood. 
 
 When all unfaithful thoughts have way ; 
 When we hang down our hands and say, 
 
 * Alas ! it is a weary pain 
 To seek, with toil and fruitless strife, 
 
 To chafe the numb’d limbs into life, 
 
 That will not live again.’ 
 
 Then, if spring odours on the wind 
 Float by, they bring into our mind 
 That it were wiser done to give 
 Our hearts to Nature, and to live 
 For her, or in the student’s bower 
 To search into her hidden things, 
 
 And seek in books the wondrous springs 
 Of knowledge and of power. 
 
 Or if we dare not thus draw back, 
 
 Yet, oh, to shun the crowded track, 
 
 And the rude throng of men ! to dwell 
 In hermitage or lonely cell, 
 
PREACHING 
 
 553 
 
 PRESENT 
 
 Feeding all longings that aspire 
 Like incense heavenward, and with care, 
 
 And lonely vigil, nursing there 
 Faith’s solitary pyre. 
 
 Oh, let not us this thought allow ! 
 
 The heat, the dust, upon our brow. 
 
 Signs of the contest, we may wear ; 
 
 Yet thus we shall appear more fair 
 In our Almighty Master’s eye, 
 
 Than if, in fear to lose the bloom. 
 
 Or ruffle the soul’s lightest plume. 
 
 We from the strife should fly. 
 
 And, for the rest, in weariness, 
 
 In disappointment, or distress. 
 
 When strength decays, or hope grows dim. 
 
 We ever may recur to Him 
 Who has the golden oil divine 
 Wherewith to feed our failing urns,— 
 
 Who watches every lamp that burns 
 
 Before His sacred shrine .— Trench . 
 
 2852. PREACHING. Eloquent 
 
 With eloquence innate his tongue was arm’d ; 
 Though harsh the precept, yet the preacher 
 charm’d ; 
 
 For, letting down the golden chain from high. 
 
 He drew his audience upward to the sky. 
 
 He bore his great commission in his look : 
 
 But sweetly temper’d awe ; and soften’d all he 
 spoke. 
 
 He preach’d the joys of heaven, and pains of hell; 
 And warn’d the sinner with becoming zeal ; 
 
 But on eternal mercy loved to dwell. 
 
 He taught the gospel rather than the law ; 
 
 And forced himself to drive; but loved to draw. 
 
 For fear but freezes minds : but love, like heat, 
 Exhales the soul sublime, to seek her native seat. 
 
 To threats the stubborn sinner oft is hard, 
 
 Wrapp’d in his crimes, against the storm prepared; 
 But, when the milder beams of mercy play, 
 
 He melts, and throws his cumbrous cloak away. 
 
 Drydeit, 
 
 2853. PREACHING. Evangelical 
 
 Say, what is gospel-preaching ? ’Tis to show, 
 
 How from his Father’s love by wilful deed 
 Man fell; and how, for ransom’d man to bleed, 
 The Son of God took in this world of woe 
 Our flesh, and quell’d by death our mortal foe : 
 
 And what His Spirit’s aid ; and whither lead 
 His laws; His means of grace; and what the 
 meed 
 
 Of faith, matured by love ; and what we owe 
 
 The Three in One ! This knowledge, passing reach 
 Of man’s device or angel’s, broad and deep, 
 
 God by His Son deliver’d ; this to teach 
 
 Mankind, He charged the shepherds of His sheep : 
 If man or angel other Gospel preach, 
 
 He ‘ sows the wind, and shall the whirlwind reap.’ 
 
 Plant. 
 
 2854. PREACHING. Inspired 
 
 By weakest ministers, the Almighty thus 
 Makes known His sacred will, and shows His 
 power : 
 
 By Him inspired, they speak with urgent tongue 
 Authoritative, whilst the illumined breast 
 Heaves with unwonted strength ; high as their 
 theme, 
 
 Their great conceptions rise in rapturous flow, 
 
 As quick the ready organs catch the thought, 
 
 And, in such strains as science could not teach, 
 
 Bear it, in all its radiance, to the heart; 
 
 The listening throng there feel its bless’d effect, 
 
 And deep conviction glows in every breast.— Jenner. 
 
 2855. PREACHING. Power of 
 
 I SAW one man, arm’d simply with God’s word. 
 
 Enter the souls of many fellow-men, 
 
 And pierce them sharply as a two-edged sword, 
 While conscience echo’d back his words again ; 
 Till, even as showers of fertilizing rain 
 Sink through the bosom of the valley clod, 
 
 So their hearts open’d to the wholesome pain, 
 
 And hundreds knelt upon the flowery sod— 
 
 One good man’s earnest prayer, the link ’twixt them 
 and God.— Caroline E. Norton . 
 
 2856. PRESENT. Value of the 
 
 The present! what is it ? A passing thought; 
 
 A shadowy, fleeting phantom of the mind ; 
 
 It is a coin above all gold ! grasp it, 
 
 Weigh it in the nice balance of the mind 
 Now it is yours—and, fresh from out the mint 
 Of Time, ’tis yours but noiu. Ere you can fix 
 The mind upon’t, ’tis valueless ; ’tis dropp’d 
 Amid the countless sum of all the past! 
 
 Moments are meted out to you, and bear 
 A stamp that will be known when ye are call’d 
 To the high accompt. They come, and then they 
 
 Unheeded messengers, up to heaven’s bar ; 
 
 There, millions unaccounted for await 
 The final reck’ning. 
 
PRESENTIMENTS 
 
 554 
 
 PRIDE 
 
 2857. PRESENTIMENTS. Guidance by 
 
 Unwelcome insight ! Yet there are 
 Blest times when mystery is laid bare, 
 
 Truth shows a glorious face, 
 
 While on that isthmus which commands 
 The councils of both worlds, she stands, 
 
 Sage Spirits ! by your grace. 
 
 God, who instructs the brutes to scent 
 All changes of the element, 
 
 Whose wisdom fix’d the scale 
 Of natures, for our wants provides 
 By higher, sometimes humbler, guides, 
 
 When lights of reason fail.— Wordsworth . 
 
 285S. PRESS. Influence of the 
 
 How shall I speak thee, or thy power address, 
 
 Thou god of our idolatry, the Press ? 
 
 By thee, religion, liberty, and laws, 
 
 Exert their influence, and advance their cause : 
 
 By thee worse plagues than Pharaoh’s land befell, 
 Diffused, make Earth the vestibule of Hell; 
 
 Thou fountain, at which drink the good and wise; 
 Thou ever-bubbling spring of endless lies ; 
 
 Like Eden’s dread probationary tree, 
 
 Knowledge of good and evil is from thee.— Cowper. 
 
 But mightiest of the mighty means 
 On which the arm of progress leans, 
 
 Man’s noblest mission to advance, 
 
 His woes assuage, his weal enhance, 
 
 His rights enforce, his wrongs redress, 
 Mightiest of mighty is the Press.— Bozvring. 
 
 2859. PRESS. Perversions of the 
 
 Turn to the press—its teeming sheets survey. 
 
 Big with the wonders of each passing day ; 
 
 Births, deaths, and weddings, forgeries, fires, and 
 wrecks, 
 
 Harangues and hail-storms, brawls and broken-necks, 
 Where half-fledged bards on feeble pinions seek 
 An immortality of near a week ; 
 
 M 
 
 Where cruel eulogists the dead restore, 
 
 In maudlin praise to martyr them once more ; 
 
 Where ruffian slanderers wreak their coward spite, 
 And need no venom’d dagger while they write; 
 While hard to tell, so coarse a daub he lays, 
 
 Which sullies most—the slander or the praise. 
 
 Sprague. 
 
 2S60. PRESS. Province of the 
 
 There are, thank Heaven, 
 
 A nobler troop to whom this trust is given ; 
 
 Who, all unbribed, on Freedom’s altar stand, 
 Faithful and firm, bright warders of the land, 
 
 By them still lifts the press its arm abroad, 
 
 To guide all-curious men along life’s road ; 
 
 To cheer young Genius, Pity’s tear to start. 
 
 In Truth’s bold cause to rouse each fearless heart; 
 O’er male and female quacks to shake the rod. 
 
 And scourge the unsex’d thing that scorns her God : 
 To hunt Corruption from his secret den, 
 
 And show the monster up, the gaze of wondering 
 men. — Sprague. 
 
 2861. PRIDE. Absurdity of 
 
 O poverty of pride ! O foul disgrace ! 
 
 Disgusted Reason, blushing, hides her face. 
 
 Mortal, and proud ! strange, contradicting terms l 
 Pride for death’s victim, for the prey of worms ! 
 
 Of all the wonders which the eventful life 
 Of man presents ; of all the mental strife 
 Of warring passions ; all the raging fires 
 Of furious appetites and mad desires ; 
 
 Not one so strange appears as this alone, 
 
 That man is proud of what is not his own. 
 
 Hannah More. 
 
 2862. PRIDE. Blindness of 
 
 Of all the causes which conspire to blind 
 Man’s erring judgment, and misguide the mind, 
 What the weak head with strongest bias rules, 
 
 Is pride, the never-failing vice of fools. 
 
 Whatever Nature has in worth denied, 
 
 She gives in large recruits of needful pride : 
 
 For as in bodies, thus in souls, we find 
 
 What wants in blood and spirits swell’d with wind : 
 
 Pride, where wit fails, steps in to our defence, 
 
 And fills up all the mighty void of sense.— Pope. 
 
 2863. PRIDE. Cause of 
 
 Pride (of all others the most dangerous fault) 
 Proceeds from want of sense, or want of thought. 
 The men who labour and digest things most 
 Will be much apter to despond than boast; 
 
 For if your author be profoundly good, 
 
 ’Twill cost you dear before he’s understood. 
 
 Roscommon. 
 
 2864. PRIDE. Criminal 
 
 Hark the rustle of a dress 
 Stiff with lavish costliness ! 
 
 Here comes one whose cheek would flush 
 But to have her garment brush 
 ’Gainst the girl whose fingers thin 
 Wove the weary ’broidery in, 
 
 Bending backward from her toil, 
 
 Lest her tears the silk might soil, 
 
 And in midnight’s chill and murk, 
 
 Stitch’d her life into the work. 
 
- PRIDE 555 PRIDE 
 
 Little doth the wearer heed 
 Of the heart-break in the brede ; 
 
 A hyena by her side 
 
 Skulks, down-looking—it is Pride.— Lowell. 
 
 2865. PRIDE: defined. 
 
 What is pride? a whizzing rocket 
 That would emulate a star.— Wordsworth. 
 
 2866. PRIDE. Kinds of 
 
 Shun pride, O Rae!—whatever sort beside 
 You take in lieu, shun spiritual pride ! 
 
 A pride there is of rank, a pride of birth/ 
 
 A pride of learning, and a pride of purse, 
 
 A London pride—in short, there be on earth 
 A host of prides, some better and some worse ; 
 
 But of all prides, since Lucifer’s attaint, 
 
 The proudest swells a self-elected Saint.— Hood. 
 
 2867. PRIDE: not in itself an evil. 
 
 Spite of all the fools that pride has made, 
 
 ’Tis not on man a useless burthen laid ; 
 
 Pride has ennobled some, and some disgraced ; 
 
 It hurts not in itself, but as ’tis placed : 
 
 When right, its views know none but virtue’s bound; 
 When wrong, it scarcely looks one inch around. 
 
 Stilling fleet. 
 
 2868. PRIDE. Punishment of 
 
 In days of old, when holy prophets trod 
 This earth, the living oracles of God, 
 
 What time one such his mission did fulfil, 
 
 There lived a youth, a prodigy of ill: 
 
 So foul the tablets of his heart and black, 
 
 That Satan’s self from them had started back ; 
 
 Him, as the plague, sought every soul to shun, 
 
 At him in horror pointed every one. 
 
 And in the city where this sinful youth 
 All bosoms fill’d with horror or with ruth. 
 
 In the same city dwelt a Monk as well, 
 
 Round whom all crowded when he left his cell; 
 
 And those who only touch’d his garment’s hem, 
 Counted that heaven was nearer unto them— 
 
 .Such name for prayer and penance he had gain’d : 
 And he one day that Prophet entertain’d : 
 
 When in their sight this sinner did appear. 
 
 Who yet for awe presumed not to draw near, 
 
 But falling back, like moth from stunning light, 
 
 Lay on the ground, as blinded by their sight. 
 
 And as in spring relents the frozen ground, 
 
 Even so it seem’d as though his heart unbound ; 
 Stream’d from his eyes, like loosen’d floods, the 
 tears : 
 
 4 Woe’s me,’ he cried, 4 for thirty guilty years 
 
 My life’s best treasure have I spent in vain, 
 
 And death and hell are now my only gain. 
 
 I totter on a dark chasm’s dreadful brink, 
 
 Hell’s jaws are yawning for me, and I sink : 
 
 Yet since none ever Thou didst from Thee cast, 
 
 I stretch my hands to Thee : Lord, hold them fast/ 
 
 But here the Monk with lifted eyebrows— 4 Peace, 
 Blasphemer ; from thy useless clamours cease : 
 
 And darest thou, thus steep’d in sin, make free 
 With him, God’s holy Prophet, and with me ? 
 
 My God, this one thing grant me, that I may 
 Stand far from this man on the judgment day/ 
 
 More he had said, but on the Prophet broke 
 Swift inspiration, and he straightway spoke : 
 
 ‘ Two here have pray’d—diverse have been their 
 prayers, 
 
 Yet granted both their supplications are. 
 
 Pie who in mire of sin now thirty years 
 Has roll’d, forgiveness asks with many tears : 
 
 Ne’er yet has head of contrite sinner lain 
 Upon the threshold of God’s throne in vain 
 All he has sinn’d to him shall be forgiven ; 
 
 Him God has chosen a denizen of heaven. 
 
 That Monk has pray’d, upon the other hand, 
 
 That he may never near this sinner stand; 
 
 That this may be so, hell his place must be, 
 
 Where nevermore this sinner he shall see. 
 
 Whose robe is white, but heart is black with pride. 
 Pie for himself hell’s gate has open’d wide, 
 
 For, weigh’d in God the all-sufficient’s scale, 
 
 Not claims nor righteousness of man avail; 
 
 But these are costly in His sight indeed,— 
 Repentance, contrite shame, and sense of need/ 
 
 Oriental , tr. by Trench . 
 
 2869. PRIDE. Punishment of 
 
 Take heed of pride, and curiously consider, 
 
 How brittle the foundation is, on which 
 You labour to advance it. Niobe, 
 
 Proud of her numerous issue, durst contemn 
 Latona’s double burthen ; but what follow’d ? 
 
 She was left a childless mother, and mourn’d to 
 marble. 
 
 The beauty you o’erprise so, time or sickness 
 Can change to loath’d deformity; your wealth 
 The prey of thieves.— Massinger. 
 
 2870. PRIDE : universal. 
 
 In pride, in reas’ning pride, our error lies; 
 
 All quit their sphere, and rush into the skies : 
 Pride still is aiming at the blcss’d abodes, 
 
 Men would be angels, angels would be gods. 
 Aspiring to be gods, if angels fell. 
 
 Aspiring to be angels men rebel; 
 
PRIDE 
 
 556 
 
 PROBATION 
 
 And who but wishes to invert the laws 
 Of order, sins against th’ Eternal cause.— Pope, 
 
 2871. PRIDE. Use of 
 
 Pride is of mighty use. 
 
 The affectation of a pompous name, 
 
 Has oft set wits and heroes in a flame : 
 
 Volumes, and buildings, and dominions wide, 
 Are oft the noble monuments of pride.— Crown . 
 
 2872. PRIEST. The only 
 
 One Priest alone can pardon me. 
 
 Or bid me go in peace, 
 
 Can breathe that word,. ‘ Absolvo tel 
 And make these heart-throbs cease : 
 
 My soul hath heard His priestly voice. 
 
 It said, ‘ I bore thy sins, rejoice ! ’ 
 
 He show’d the spear-mark in His side. 
 
 The nail-print on His palm, 
 
 Said, ‘ Look on Me the crucified ! 
 
 Why tremble thus ? Be calm ! 
 
 All power is mine,—I set thee free,—« 
 
 Be not afraid,—“ Absolvo teP 1 
 
 By Him my soul is purified, 
 
 Once leprous and defiled ! 
 
 Cleansed in the fountain from His side, 
 
 God sees me as a child : 
 
 No priest can heal or cleanse but He; 
 
 No other say, * Absolvo ted 
 
 A girded Levite here below, 
 
 I willing service bring, 
 
 And fain would tell to all I know 
 Of Christ, the Priestly King : 
 
 Would win all hearts from sin to flee. 
 
 And hear Plim say, ‘ Absolvo tel 
 
 A little while, and He shall come 
 Forth from the inner shrine, 
 
 To call His pardon’d brethren home ;—• 
 
 O bliss supreme, divine ! 
 
 When every blood-bought child see 
 The Priest who said, ‘ Absolvo ted 
 
 He robed me in a priestly dress, 
 
 That I might incense bring, 
 
 Of prayer and praise and righteousness. 
 
 To heaven’s eternal King : 
 
 And when He gave this robe to me. 
 
 He smiled, and said, ‘ Absolvo tel 
 
 In heaven He stands before the throne. 
 
 The great High Priest above, 
 
 ‘ Melchisedec,’—that name alone 
 Can sin’s dark stain remove : 
 
 To Him I look on bended knee, 
 
 And hear that sweet—‘ Absolvo tel 
 
 2873. PRISON. 
 
 A PRrsoN is a house of care, 
 
 A place where none can thrive, 
 
 A touchstone true to try a friend, 
 
 A grave for one alive ; 
 
 Sometimes a place of right. 
 
 Sometimes a place of wrong, 
 
 Sometimes a place of rogues and thieves. 
 And honest men among. 
 
 Inscription on Edinburgh Tolbooth. 
 
 How like 
 
 A prison’s to a grave ! when dead, we are 
 With solemn pomp brought thither ; and our heirs. 
 Masking their joy in false dissembled tears, 
 
 Weep o’er the hearse : but earth no sooner covers 
 The earth brought thither, but they turn away 
 V ith inward smiles, the dead no more remember’d: 
 So enter’d into a prison. —Massinger. 
 
 A prison is in all things like a grave. 
 
 Where we no better privileges have 
 
 Than dead men ; nor so good. The soul once fled 
 
 Lives freer now, than when she was cloist’red 
 
 In walls of flesh ; and though she organs want 
 
 To act her swift designs, yet all will grant 
 
 Her faculties more clear, now separate, 
 
 Than if the same conjunction, which of late 
 Did marry her to earth, had stood in force; 
 Incapable of death, or of divorce ; 
 
 But an imprison’d mind, though living, dies, 
 
 And, at one time, feels two captivities: 
 
 A narrow dungeon which her body holds, 
 
 But narrower body, which herself enfolds.— King, 
 
 And faint not, heart of man! though years wane 
 slow! 
 
 There have been those that from the deepest caves, 
 And cells of night, and fastnesses below 
 Th e st ormy dashing of the ocean waves, 
 
 Down, farther down than gold lies hid, have nursed 
 A quenchless hope, and watch’d their time and 
 burst 
 
 On the bright day, like wakeners from the grave. 
 
 Mrs Hemans. 
 
 2874. PROBATION. Man’s 
 
 Placed for his trial on this bustling stage. 
 
 From thoughtless youth to ruminating age, 
 
 Free in his will to choose or to refuse, 
 
 Man may improve the crisis, or abuse ; 
 
 Else, on the fatalist’s unrighteous plan. 
 
 Say to what bar amenable were man ? 
 
 With nought in charge he could betray no trust, 
 
 And, if he fell, would fall because he must; 
 
 
PROCRASTINATION 55 7 PRODIGALITY 
 
 f love reward him, or if vengeance strike, 
 
 Iis recompense in both unjust alike. 
 
 )ivine authority within his breast 
 
 3 rings every thought, word, action to the test; 
 
 Yarns him or prompts, approves him or restrains, 
 
 \s reason, or as passion, takes the reins, 
 deaven from above, and conscience from within, 
 Cries in his startled ear, ‘Abstain from sin ! ’ 
 
 Hie world around solicits his desire, 
 
 And kindles in his soul a treacherous fire ; 
 
 While, all his purposes and steps to guard, 
 
 Peace follows virtue as its sure reward ; 
 
 And Pleasure brings as surely in her train 
 Remorse, and sorrow, and vindictive pain. 
 
 Man, thus endued with an elective voice, 
 
 Must be supplied with objects of his choice. 
 
 Where’er he turns, enjoyment and delight, 
 
 3 r present, or in prospect, meet his sight: 
 
 These open on the spot their honey’d store ; 
 
 Those call him loudly to pursuit of more. 
 
 His unexhausted mine the sordid vice 
 Avarice shows, and virtue is the price. 
 
 Here various motives his ambition raise— 
 
 Power, pomp, and splendour, and the thirst of 
 praise ; 
 
 There beauty woos him with expanded arms ; 
 
 E’en bacchanalian madness has its charms. 
 
 Nor these alone, whose pleasures less refined 
 Might well alarm the most unguarded mind, 
 
 Seek to supplant his inexperienced youth, 
 
 Or lead him devious from the path of truth; 
 
 Hourly allurements on his passions press, 
 
 Safe in themselves, but dangerous in the excess. 
 
 Couper. 
 
 2875. PROCRASTINATION : a deceiver. 
 
 There’s a little mischief-maker, 
 
 That is stealing half our bliss ; 
 
 Sketching pictures in a dream-land 
 That are never seen in this ; 
 
 Dashing from the lips the pleasures 
 Of the present while we sigh : 
 
 You may know this mischief-maker, 
 
 For his name is By-and-By. 
 
 lie is sitting by your hearthstones, 
 
 With his sly, bewitching glance, 
 Whispering of the coming morrow 
 As the social hours advance ; 
 
 Loitering ’mid our calm reflections, 
 
 Hiding forms of beauty nigh : 
 
 He’s a smooth deceitful fellow, 
 
 This enchanter, By-and-By. 
 
 You may know him by his winning, 
 
 By his careless, sportive air; 
 
 By his sly, obtrusive presence, 
 
 That is straying everywhere ; 
 
 By the trophies that he gathers 
 Where his sombre victims lie ; 
 
 For a bold, determined fellow 
 Is this conqueror, By-and-By. 
 
 When the calls of duty haunt us, 
 
 And the present seems to be 
 All the time that ever mortals 
 Snatch from dark eternity, 
 
 Then a fairy hand seems painting 
 Pictures on a painted sky ; 
 
 For a cunning little artist 
 Is the fairy, By-and-By. 
 
 * By-and-By,’ the wind is singing, 
 
 ‘ By-and-By,’ the heart replies ; 
 
 But the phantom just above us 
 Ere we grasp it ever flies. 
 
 List not to the idle charmer, 
 
 Scorn the very specious lie— 
 
 Do not e’er believe or trust in 
 This deceiver, By-and-By. 
 
 2876. PROCRASTINATION. Absurdity of 
 
 To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow. 
 Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, 
 
 To the last syllable of recorded time ; 
 
 And all our yesterdays have lighted fools 
 
 The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle ! 
 
 Life’s but a walking shadow ; a poor player. 
 
 That stmts and frets his hour upon the stage, 
 
 And then is heard no more : it is a tale 
 Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, 
 
 Signifying nothing. — Shakespeare. 
 
 2877. PROCRASTINATION. Flabit of 
 
 Cornutus. Unhappy he who does his work ad¬ 
 journ, 
 
 And to to-morrow would the search delay : 
 
 Plis lazy morrow will be like to-day. 
 
 Pers. But is one day of ease too much to borrow? 
 Corn. Yes, sure; for yesterday was once to¬ 
 morrow. 
 
 That yesterday is gone, and nothing gain’d ; 
 
 And all thy fruitless days will thus be drain’d : 
 
 For thou hast more to-morrows yet to ask, 
 
 And wilt be ever to begin thy task ; 
 
 Who, like the hindmost chariot-wheels, art curst. 
 Still to be near, but ne’er to reach, the first. 
 
 Persius , tr. by Dry den. 
 
 2878. PRODIGALITY. 
 
 What is a prodigal ? faith, like a brush, 
 
 That wears himself, to furbish others’ clothes; 
 
PROFESSION 
 
 558 
 
 PROGRESS 
 
 And having worn his heart even to the stump, 
 
 He’s thrown away like a deformed lump. 
 
 Oh such am I! I have spent all the wealth' 
 
 My ancestors did purchase ; made others brave 
 In shape and riches, and myself a knave : 
 
 For though my wealth raised some to paint their door, 
 ’Tis shut against me, saying, I am poor.— Wilkins . 
 
 ’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. 
 
 See ! 
 
 The difference ’twixt the covetous and the prodigal: 
 The covetous man never has money. 
 
 And the prodigal will have none shortly !— yohnson. 
 
 That which made him gracious in your eyes. 
 
 And gilded o’er his imperfections, 
 
 Is wasted and consumed even like ice, 
 
 Which by the vehemence of heat dissolves. 
 
 And glides to many rivers ; so his wealth, 
 
 That felt a prodigal hand, hot in expense, 
 
 Melted within his gripe, and from his coffers 
 Ran like a violent stream to other men’s.— Cook. 
 
 Liberality 
 
 In some circumstances may be allow’d : 
 
 As when it has no end but honesty ; 
 
 With a respect of person, quantity, 
 
 Quality, time, and place : but this profuse. 
 
 Vain, injudicious spending makes him idiot; 
 
 And yet the best of liberality 
 Is to be liberal to ourselves : and thus 
 Your wisdom is most liberal, and knows 
 How fond a thing it is for discreet men 
 To purchase with the loss of their estate 
 The name of one poor virtue, liberality. 
 
 And that, too, only from the mouth of beggars! 
 One of your judgment would not, I am sure, 
 
 Buy all the virtues at so dear a rate.— Randolph . 
 
 2879. PROFESSION. Perverse 
 
 Though all the precious promises 
 I find fulfill’d in Jesu’s love, 
 
 If perfect I myself profess, 
 
 My own profession I disprove. 
 
 The purest saint that lives below, 
 
 Doth his own sanctity disclaim ; 
 
 The wisest owns, I nothing know ; 
 
 The holiest cries, I nothing am !— C. Wesley. 
 
 2880. PROGRESS. Day of 
 
 There’s a fount about to stream. 
 
 There’s a light about to gleam, 
 
 There’s a warmth about to glow. 
 
 There’s a flower about to blow, 
 
 There’s a midnight darkness Changing 
 Into grey 
 
 Men of thought, and men of action, 
 
 Clear the way! 
 
 Once the welcome light has broker, 
 
 Who shall say 
 
 What the unimagined glories 
 Of the day— 
 
 What the evil that shall perish 
 In its ray ? 
 
 Aid the dawning, tongue and pen ; 
 
 Aid it, hopes of honest men ! 
 
 Aid it, paper—aid it, type— 
 
 Aid it, for the hour is ripe, 
 
 And our earnest must not slacken 
 Into play. 
 
 Men of thought, and men of action. 
 
 Clear the way! 
 
 Lo ! a cloud’s about to vanish 
 From the day, 
 
 And a brazen wrong to crumble 
 Into clay. 
 
 Lo! the right’s about to conquer. 
 
 Clear the way! 
 
 With that right shall many more 
 Enter smiling at the door ; 
 
 With the giant wrong shall fall 
 Many others, great and small. 
 
 That for ages long have held us 
 For their prey. 
 
 Men of thought, and men of action, 
 
 Clear the way !— Mackay. 
 
 2881. PROGRESS. Omens of 
 
 Look on this beautiful world, and read the truth 
 In her fair page ; see, every season brings 
 New change to her, of everlasting youth ; 
 
 Still the green soil with joyous living things 
 Swarms, the wide air is full of joyous wings. 
 
 And myriads, still, are happy in the sleep 
 Of ocean’s azure gulfs, and where he flings 
 The restless surge. Eternal Love doth keep. 
 
 On His complacent arms, the earth, the air, the 
 deep. 
 
 Will then the merciful One, Who stamp’d our race 
 With His own image, and Who gave them sway 
 O’er earth, and the glad dwellers on her face, 
 
 Now that our swarming nations far away 
 Are spread, where’er the moist earth drinks the 
 day, 
 
 Forget the ancient care that tatight and nursed 
 His latest offspring? will he quench the ray 
 
PROGRESSION 
 
 559 
 
 PROSPERITY 
 
 Infused by His own forming smile at first, 
 
 And leave a work so fair all blighted and accursed ? 
 
 Oh, no ! a thousand cheerful omens give 
 
 The hope of happier days, whose dawn is nigh. 
 
 He who has tamed the elements shall not live 
 The slave of his own passions ; he whose eye 
 Unwinds the eternal dances of the sky, 
 
 And in the abyss of brightness dares to span ' 
 
 The sun’s broad circle, rising yet more high, 
 
 In God’s magnificent works His will shall scan— 
 And love and peace shall make their paradise with 
 man.— Bryant . 
 
 2882. PROGRESSION. Pythagorean 
 
 We weep when we are bom, not when we die l 
 So was it destined j and thus came I here, 
 
 To walk the earth and wear the form of man. 
 
 To suffer bravely as becomes my state, 
 
 One step, one grade, one cycle nearer God. 
 
 And knowing these things, can I stoop to fret. 
 
 And lie, and haggle in the market-place ; 
 
 Give dross for dross, or every thing for nought ? 
 
 No ! let me sit above the crowd, and sing. 
 
 Waiting with hope for that miraculous change 
 Which seems like sleep ; and though I waiting starve, 
 I cannot kiss the idols that are set 
 By every gate, in every street and park; 
 
 I cannot fawn, I cannot soil my soul: 
 
 For I am of the mountains and the sea, 
 
 The deserts and the caverns in the earth, 
 
 The catacombs and fragments of old worlds. 
 
 Aldrich. 
 
 2883. PROMISES. 
 
 And be the juggling fiends no more believed, 
 That palter with us in a double sense ; 
 
 That keep the word of promise to our ear, 
 
 And break it to our hope.— Shakespeare. 
 
 The man that is not in the enemies’ power, 
 
 Nor fetter’d by misfortune, and breaks promises, 
 Degrades himself; he never can pretend 
 To honour more.— Sir Robert Stapleton . 
 
 2884. PROMPTITUDE. 
 
 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. 
 
 2885. PROOFS. 
 
 Examples I could cite you more; 
 
 But be contented with these four ; 
 
 For when one’s proofs are aptly chosen. 
 
 Four are as valid as four dozen.— Prior. 
 
 2886. PROPORTION. 
 
 Some figures monstrous and misshaped appear 
 Consider’d singly, or beheld too near, 
 
 Which but proportion’d to their site or place, 
 
 Due distance reconciles to form and grace.— Pope. 
 
 2887. PROSPERITY: dangerous. 
 
 More ships in calms on a deceitful coast, 
 
 Or unseen rocks, than in high storms are lost. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 Daily and hourly proof 
 Tell us, prosperity is at highest degree 
 The fount and handle of calamity : 
 
 Like dust before a whirlwind those men fly 
 That prostrate on the ground of fortune lie ; 
 
 And being great, like trees that broadest sprout,. 
 Their own top-heavy state grubs up their root. 
 
 Chapman. 
 
 2888. PROSPERITY : destructive of piety. 
 
 Behold, Sir Balaam, now a man of spirit, 
 
 Ascribes his gettings to his parts and merit; 
 
 What late he call’d a blessing, now was wit, 
 
 And God’s good providence a lucky hit. 
 
 Things change their titles as their manners turn : 
 
 His counting-house employ’d the Sunday morn : 
 Seldom at church (’twas such a busy life), 
 
 But duly sent his family and wife.— Pope. 
 
 28S9. PROSPERITY. Friendship and 
 
 Between a wise magician, whom fair Maia knew, 
 And one of earth’s poor sons, there once a friendship 
 grew. 
 
 That friend his ear with protestations plied : 
 
 At length their truth the enchanter by his magic tried. 
 Within a meadow sits the friend in mild repose, 
 
 Sees how each flower, each blade of grass, in silence 
 grows. 
 
 At once in order rise the grass-blades, and appear 
 A host of helmed warriors, arm’d with pike and spear. 
 They throng around the friend and greet him as a 
 king. 
 
 And pearls and rubies at his feet profusely fling. 
 
 His heart beats strong with bliss : like a vast tent 
 unfurl’d, 
 
 The sky is pitch’d ; and he is lord of all the world, 
 A breathless man then through the crowding courtiers 
 press’d, 
 
 And straight the king as a familiar friend address’d. 
 The monarch, with a look surprised, to him replied, 
 ‘My friend, I know you not,’ and turn’d away in 
 pride. 
 
PROSPERITY 
 
 560 
 
 PRO VIDENCE 
 
 Thrice waved his Maia’s staff that grieved magician’s 
 hand, 
 
 And all the incantation faded from the land. 
 
 The friend, now disenchanted, bitterly repents, 
 
 Till thus the conjurer comforts him for his offence : 
 
 * It is the world’s low lusts that do our senses bind ; 
 Let Maia’s veil but fall, we leave those snares behind. 
 The splendid courtiers shrink to grass-blades in the 
 field, 
 
 The pearls and rubies are but drops of dew congeal’d. 
 Just now my art made shapes to you from out this 
 mist: 
 
 And yet I never would your friendship have dismiss’d. 
 The worst of the illusion was that it turn’d friend 
 From friend, and therefore have I brought it to an 
 end. 
 
 But doubtless, friend ! had me the same proud spell 
 possess’d, 
 
 You would have seen me full as badly stand the test.’ 
 
 Oriental. 
 
 2890. PROSPERITY : portentous. 
 
 Oh how portentous is prosperity ! 
 
 How, comet-like, it threatens while it shines ! 
 
 Few years but yield us proof of Death’s ambition 
 To cull his victims from the fairest fold, 
 
 And sheathe his shafts in all the pride of life. 
 
 When flooded with abundance, purpled o’er 
 With recent honours, bloom’d with every bliss, 
 
 Set up in ostentation, made the gaze, 
 
 The gaudy centre of the public eye ; 
 
 When Fortune, thus, has toss’d her child in air. 
 Snatch’d from the covert of an humble state, 
 
 How often have I seen him dropp’d at once ! 
 
 ■Our morning’s envy ! and our evening’s sigh ! 
 
 As if her bounties were the signal given, 
 
 The flowery wreath to mark the sacrifice, 
 
 And call death’s arrows on the destined prey. 
 
 High Fortune seems in cruel league with Fate. 
 
 Ask you for what ?—to give his war on man 
 The deeper dread, and more illustrious spoil; 
 
 Thus to keep daring mortals more in awe.— Young. 
 
 2891. PROSPERITY : should inspire caution. 
 
 Who feels no ills 
 
 Should therefore fear them; and when fortune smiles, 
 Be doubly cautious, lest destruction come 
 Remorseless on him, and he fall unpitied. 
 
 Sophocles. 
 
 2892. PROSPERITY: why it is withheld. 
 
 The man, perhaps, 
 
 Thou pitiest, draws his comfort from distress. 
 
 That mind so poised, and centred in the good 
 
 Supreme, so kindled with devotion’s flame, 
 Might, with prosperity’s enchanting cup 
 Inebriate, have forgot the All-giving hand ; 
 
 Might on earth’s vain and transitory joys 
 Have built its sole felicity, nor e’er 
 Wing’d a desire beyond.— Bally. 
 
 2893. PROTECTION. Divine 
 
 Oh troubled soul, why thus complain? 
 
 Why thus great Providence arraign ? 
 
 Poor, feeble heart! thy troubles still, 
 
 And hide thyself in God’s great will. 
 
 ’Tis true, He now thy strength doth try, 
 
 Like birds, that teach their young to fly ; 
 
 But when thou sinkest, He will bring, 
 
 Beneath thy fall, His own great wing.— Upham. 
 
 2894. PROVIDENCE : all-embracing. 
 
 This is Thy work, Almighty Providence ! 
 
 Whose power, beyond the reach of human thought, 
 Revolves the orbs of empire ; bids them sink 
 Deep in the dead’ning night of Thy displeasure, 
 
 Or rise majestic o’er a wondering world.— Thomson. 
 
 Who sees with equal eye, as God of all, 
 
 A hero perish, or a sparrow fall, 
 
 Atoms or systems into ruin hurl’d, 
 
 And now a bubble burst, and now a world. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Yes, thou art ever present, Power Supreme ! 
 
 Not circumscribed by time, nor fixt to space. 
 Confined to altars, nor to temples bound. 
 
 In wealth, in want, in freedom, or in chains, 
 
 In dungeons, or on thrones, the faithful find Thee! 
 
 Hannah More. 
 
 2895. PROVIDENCE : all-wise. 
 
 Eternal Providence, exceeding thought, 
 
 Where none appears, can make herself a way. 
 
 Spenser. 
 
 Providence, not niggardly but wise, 
 
 Plere lavishly bestows, and there denies, 
 
 That by each other’s virtues we may rise. 
 
 Granville. 
 
 Who finds not Providence all good and wise, 
 
 Alike in what it gives and what denies ?— Pope. 
 
 All nature is but art unknown to thee ; 
 
 All chance direction, which thou canst not sec; 
 
 All discord harmony not understood ; 
 
 All partial evil universal good : 
 
 And spite of pride, in erring reason’s spite. 
 
 One truth is clear, Whatever is, is right.— Pope. 
 
PROVIDENCE 
 
 561 
 
 PROVIDENCE 
 
 2896. PROVIDENCE: all-wise. 
 
 Sometime, when all life’s lessons have been leam’d. 
 And suns and stars for evermore have set. 
 
 The things which our weak judgments here have 
 spurn’d, 
 
 The things o’er which we grieve with lashes wet, 
 Will flash before us, amid life’s dark night, 
 
 As stars shine most in deeper tints of blue : 
 
 And we shall see how all God’s plans were right, 
 And what most seem’d reproof was love most true. 
 
 And we shall see how, while we frown and sigh, 
 God’s plans go on as best for you and me— 
 
 How, when we call’d, He heeded not our cry, 
 Because His wisdom to the end could see; 
 
 And e’en as prudent parents disallow 
 Too much of sweet to craving babyhood, 
 
 So God, perhaps, is keeping from us now 
 
 Life’s sweetest things because it seemeth good. 
 
 And you shall shortly know that lengthen’d breath 
 Is not the sweetest gift God sends His friend ; 
 
 And that sometimes the sable pall of death 
 Conceals the fairest boon His love can send. 
 
 If we could stand within and all God’s working see, 
 We could interpret all this doubt and strife, 
 
 Should for each mystery find there is a key, 
 
 And trace the love that sent each woe of life. 
 
 But not to-day. Then be content, poor heart! 
 
 God’s plans, like lilies, pure and w'hite, unfold, 
 We must not tear the close-shut leaves apart, 
 
 Time will reveal the calyxes of gold ; 
 
 And if, through patient toil, we reach the land 
 Where tired feet with sandals loosed may rest, 
 Where we shall clearly know and understand, 
 
 I think that we shall say, ‘ God knew the best.’ 
 
 2897. PROVIDENCE: all-wise. 
 
 Whatever God does is well! 
 
 Plis children find it so. 
 
 Some He doth not with plenty bless, 
 
 Yet loves them not the less, 
 
 But draws their hearts unto Himself away.— 
 
 Oh ! hearts, obey. 
 
 Whatever God does is well, 
 
 Whether He gives or takes ! 
 
 And what we from His hand receive 
 Suffices us to live. 
 
 He takes and gives, while yet He loves us still.— 
 Then love His will. 
 
 Whatever God does is well! 
 
 And what can our will do? 
 
 We cannot reap from what we sow 
 But wlmt His power makes grow. 
 
 Sometimes He doth all other good destroy, 
 
 To be thy joy. 
 
 Whatever God does is well! 
 
 And Plis will shall prevail. 
 
 Doth He refuse thy hands to fill? 
 
 He knows thy heart to still. 
 
 A Christian from a very little gift 
 Much joy can sift. 
 
 Whatever God does is well! 
 
 Although the field look dark, 
 
 Yet cheerful in His path we go ; 
 
 And by our faith we know 
 
 That Christ for us hath heavenly riches bought.— 
 Can we lack aught ? 
 
 Whatever God does is well! 
 
 In patience let us wait: 
 
 He doth Himself our burdens bear, 
 
 He doth for us take care. 
 
 And He, our God, knows all our weary days.— 
 Come, give Him praise !— Schniolk. 
 
 289S. PROVIDENCE : causes all things to work 
 together for good. 
 
 ‘ All things,’ dear Lord ! Is there no thread of woe 
 Too dark, too tangled, for the bright design ? 
 
 No drop of rain too heavy for-the bow 
 Set in the cloud in covenant Divine? 
 
 I know that all Thy full designs are bright; 
 
 That darkest threads grow golden in Thy hand, 
 That bending lines grow straight — the tangled 
 right— 
 
 The bitter drops all sweet at Thy command. 
 
 Command the sweetness! make the crooked straight; 
 
 And turn these dusky tangled threads to gold ! 
 Swifter, dear Lord ! I cannot longer wait ; 
 
 Faith has grown weary—longing to behold. 
 
 I know the promise ; but I crave the sight; 
 
 I yearn to see the beautiful design ; 
 
 To hail the rose-tints of the morning light; 
 
 To watch the straightening of the bended line. 
 
 Why these enigmas ? Wherefore not receive 
 Their bright solution ? Then a voice drew near : 
 
 ( Blessed are they who see not, yet believe ! 1 
 And One I knew approach’d, and wiped my tear. 
 
 With wounded hand, and sigh’d. Ah ! then I fell 
 Down on my knees and held him by the feet, 
 
 My Lord ! My God ! All, all is well! 
 
 With Thee , the dark is light, the bitter sweet! 
 
 36 
 
PROVIDENCE 
 
 562 
 
 PROVIDENCE 
 
 2899. PROVIDENCE. Direction of 
 
 There is power 
 
 Unseen, that rules the illimitable world, , 
 
 That guides its motions from the brightest star 
 To the least dust of this sin-tainted mould ; 
 
 While man, who madly deems himself the lord 
 Of all, is nought but weakness and dependence. 
 
 This sacred truth, by sure experience taught, 
 
 Thou must have learnt, when wandering all alone ; 
 Each bird, each insect, flitting through the sky, 
 
 Was more sufficient for itself than thou.— Thomson. 
 
 2900. PROVIDENCE. Diversities of 
 
 When all the year our fields are fresh and green, 
 And while sweet showers and sunshine every day, 
 As oft as need requireth, come between 
 The heavens and earth, they heedless pass away. 
 The fulness and continuance of a blessing 
 Doth make us to be senseless of the good ; 
 
 And if sometimes it fly not our possessing. 
 
 The sweetness of it is not understood ; 
 
 Had we no winter, summer would be thought 
 Not half so pleasing ; and if tempests were not. 
 Such comforts by a calm could not be brought; 
 
 For things, save by their opposites, appear not. 
 Roth health and wealth are tasteless unto some, 
 
 And so is ease and every other pleasure, 
 
 Till poor, or sick, or grieved, they become,. 
 
 And then they relish these in ampler measure. 
 God, therefore, full as kind as He is wise, 
 
 So tempereth all the favours He will do us, 
 
 That we His bounties may the better prize, 
 
 And make His chastisement less bitter to us. 
 
 One while a scorching indignation burns 
 
 The flowers and blossoms of our hopes away, 
 Which into scarcity our plenty turns, 
 
 And changeth new-mown grass to parched hay; 
 Anon, His fruitful showers and pleasing dews, 
 Commix’d with cheerful rays, He sendeth down, 
 And then the barren earth her crops renews, 
 
 Which with rich harvests hills and valleys crow; 
 For as, to relish joys, He sorrow sends, 
 
 So comfort on temptation still attends.— Wither. 
 
 2901. PROVIDENCE. Divine 
 
 All is of God ! If He but w r ave His hand, 
 
 The mists collect, the rain falls thick and loud, 
 Till, with a smile of light on sea and land, 
 
 Lo ! He looks back from the departing cloud. 
 Angels of life and death alike are His; 
 
 Without His leave they pass no threshold o’er; 
 Who then would wish or dare, believing this. 
 Against His messengers to shut the door ? 
 
 Lowell. 
 
 2902. PROVIDENCE: foolishly distrusted. 
 
 One part, one little part, we dimly scan 
 
 Through the dark medium of life’s fevering dream ; 
 Yet dare arraign the whole stupendous plan, 
 
 If but that little part incongruous .seem ; 
 
 Nor is that part perhaps what mortals deem ; 
 
 Oft from apparent ill our blessings rise. 
 
 Oh then renounce that impious self-esteem. 
 
 That aims to trace the secrets of the skies : 
 
 For thou art but of dust; be humble and be wise. 
 
 Beattie. 
 
 2903. PROVIDENCE: its mysteries. 
 
 Purblind man 
 
 Sees but a part o’ th’ chain, the nearest links; 
 
 His eyes not carrying to that equal beam 
 That poises all above.— Dry den and Lee. 
 
 The ways of heaven are dark and intricate ; 
 Puzzled in mazes, and perplex’d with errors. 
 
 Our understanding traces them in vain, 
 
 Lost and bewilder’d in the fruitless search, 
 
 Nor sees with how much art the windings run, 
 Nor where the regular confusion ends.— Addison. 
 
 Do thou, my soul, the destined period wait, 
 
 When God shall solve the dark decrees of fate. 
 
 His now unequal dispensations clear, 
 
 And make all wise and beautiful appear.— Tickell. 
 
 Heaven darkly works ;—yet, where the seed hath 
 been, 
 
 There shall the fruitage, glowing, yet be seen. 
 
 Mrs Hernans _ 
 
 2904. PROVIDENCE: its mysteries. 
 
 {A Russian Fable.) 
 
 One day a farmer in his field 
 Was sowing oats for autumn yield. 
 
 A young horse watch’d him on his way. 
 
 And gave at once a scornful neigh. 
 
 ‘ How foolish man is ! ’ this colt thought. 
 
 * Here in the very act he’s caught 
 
 ‘ Of throwing oats upon the ground. 
 
 Could any rasher waste be found ? 
 
 ‘ Give me that heap, and I would show 
 What oats are good for—for I know’. 
 
 ‘ Or even give them to the crow’s : 
 
 They have more sense than this act shows ! 
 
 * Or hoard them carefully away : 
 
 Man may want oats some future day ! ’ 
 
 Well, time pass’d on. The autumn grain 
 Was garner’d from the field again. 
 
PROVIDENCE 
 
 563 
 
 PROVIDENCE 
 
 The farmer gather’d oats tenfold, 
 
 And gave the horse all he could hold. 
 
 Are we not sometimes like this colt ? 
 
 We send a criticizing bolt 
 
 ’Gainst higher powers. We call waste 
 What is but wisdom, view’d in haste. 
 
 We mock the providence that sends 
 Its aim through darkness to kind ends. 
 
 Laura Sanford. 
 
 2905. PROVIDENCE. Mercifulness of 
 
 Yet Providence, that ever-waking eye, 
 
 Looks down with pity on the feeble toil 
 Of mortals lost to hope, and lights them safe 
 Through all the dreary labyrinth of fate. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 2906. PROVIDENCE : overrules all things. 
 
 Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well. 
 
 When our deep plots do pall; and that should teach us 
 There’s a divinity that shapes our ends, 
 
 Rough-hew them how we will.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Each individual seeks a separate goal; 
 
 3 ut Heaven’s great view is one, and that the whole : 
 That counterworks each folly and caprice ; 
 
 That disappoints th’ effects of every vice.— Pope. 
 
 2907. PROVIDENCE : should be gratefully ac. 
 
 knowledged. 
 
 It is not so with Him that all things knows 
 As ’ tis with us, that square our guess by shows : 
 But most it is presumptuous in us, when 
 The help of Heaven we count the act of men. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 2908. PROVIDENCE. Tenderness of 
 
 [ust as a mother, with sweet pious face, 
 
 Yearns towards her little children from her seat, 
 Tives one a kiss, another an embrace, 
 
 Takes this upon her knees, that on her feet; 
 
 And while from actions, looks, complaints, pretences, 
 She teams their feelings and their various will, 
 
 To this a look, to that a word, dispenses, 
 
 And, whether stern or smiling, loves them still;— 
 So Providence for us, high, infinite, 
 
 Makes our necessities its watchful task, 
 
 Hearkens to all our prayers, helps all our wants, 
 And even if it denies what seems our right, 
 
 Either denies because ’twould have us ask, 
 
 Or seems but to deny, or in denying grants. 
 From the Italian of Vincenzo da Filicaja : tr. by 
 Leigh Hunt. 
 
 2909. PROVIDENCE. Trust in 
 
 Intrust thy fortune to the powers above ; 
 
 Leave them to manage for thee, and to grant 
 What their unerring wisdom sees thee want. 
 
 In goodness as in greatness they excel: 
 
 Ah, that we loved ourselves but half so well! 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 2910. PROVIDENCE. Trust in 
 
 My times are in Thy hand ! 
 
 I know not what a day 
 Or e’en an hour may bring to me, 
 
 But I am safe while trusting Thee, 
 
 Though all things fade away. 
 
 All weakness, I 
 On Him rely, 
 
 Who fix’d the earth, and spread the starry sky. 
 
 My times are in Thy hand ! 
 
 Pale poverty, or wealth, 
 
 Comoding care, or calm repose, 
 
 Spring’s balmy breath, or winter’s snows, 
 Sickness, or buoyant health,— 
 
 Whate’er betide, 
 
 If God provide, 
 
 ’Tis for the best, I wish no lot beside ! 
 
 My times are in Thy hand! 
 
 Many or few my days, 
 
 I leave with Thee,—this only pray. 
 
 That by Thy grace, I, every day 
 Devoting to thy praise, 
 
 May ready be 
 To welcome Thee, 
 
 Whene’er Thou comest to set my spirit free! 
 
 2911. PROVIDENCE. Trust in 
 
 I KNOW not what the future hath 
 Of marvel or surprise, 
 
 Assured alone that life and death 
 His mercy underlies. 
 
 And if my heart and flesh are weak 
 To bear an untried pain, 
 
 The bruised reed He will not break. 
 
 But strengthen and sustain. 
 
 No offering of my own I have, 
 
 Nor works my faith to prove ; 
 
 I can but give the gifts He gave. 
 
 And plead His love for love. 
 
 And so beside the Silent Sea 
 I wait the muffled oar ; 
 
 No harm from Him can come to me 
 On ocean or on shore. 
 
PUNISHMENT 
 
 PROVIDENTIAL DIRECTION 564 
 
 I know not where His islands lift 
 Their fronded palms in air; 
 
 I only know I cannot drift 
 Beyond His love and care. 
 
 And Thou, O Lord ! by whom are seen 
 Thy creatures as they be, 
 
 Forgive me if too close I lean 
 
 My human heart on Thee !— Whittier. 
 
 2912. PROVIDENTIAL DIRECTION. Prayer 
 
 for 
 
 From storms of rage, and dangerous rocks of pride. 
 Let Thy strong hand this little vessel guide ; 
 
 It was Thy hand that made it: through the tide 
 
 Impetuous of this life let Thy command 
 
 Direct my course and bring me safe to land.— Prior. 
 
 2913. PROVOCATIONS. Small 
 
 A thousand gnats make up a serpent’s sting, 
 
 And many sly, soft stimulants to wrath 
 Compose a formidable wrong at last, 
 
 That gets call’d easily by some name 
 Not applicable to the single parts, 
 
 And so draws down a general revenge, 
 
 Excessive if you take crime fault by fault. 
 
 Browning. 
 
 2914. PRUDENCE. 
 
 She’s a majestic ruler, and commands 
 Even with terror of her awful brow. 
 
 As in a throng, sedition being raised, 
 
 Th’ ignoble multitude inflamed with madness, 
 Firebrands and stones fly ; fury shows them weapons: 
 Till spying some grave man, honour’d for wisdom, 
 They straight are silent, and erect their ears ; 
 
 Whilst he, with his sage counsel, doth assuage 
 Their mind’s disorder and appease their rage : 
 
 So prudence, when rebellious appetites 
 Have raised temptations, with their batteries 
 Assaulting reason, then doth interpose. 
 
 And keep it safe.— Nabb. 
 
 When any great designs thou dost intend, 
 
 Think on the means, the manner, and the end. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 1.00k forward what’s to come, and back what’s past; 
 Thy life will be with praise and prudence graced : 
 What loss or gain may follow, thou may’st guess; 
 Thou then wilt be secure of the success.— Denham. 
 
 Prudence ! thou vainly in our youth art sought, 
 
 And with age purchased, art too dearly bought,— 
 We’re past the use of wit, for which we toil : 
 
 Late fruit, and planted on too cold a soil.— Dry den. 
 
 Prudence protects and guides us ; wit betrays ; 
 
 A splendid source of ill ten thousand ways ; 
 
 A certain snare to miseries immense ; 
 
 A gay prerogative from common sense ; 
 
 Unless strong judgment that wild thing can tame, 
 And break to paths of virtue and of fame.— Young. 
 
 Consult your means, avoid the tempter’s wiles, 
 
 Shun grinning hosts of unreceipted files, 
 
 Let Pleaven-eyed prudence battle with desire, 
 
 And win the victory, though it be through fire, 
 
 Field. 
 
 2915. PULPIT. Power of the 
 
 The pulpit, therefore (and I name it, fill’d 
 With solemn awe, that bids me well beware 
 With what intent I touch that holy thing), 
 
 I say the pulpit (in the sober use 
 Of its legitimate, peculiar powers) 
 
 Must stand acknowledged, while the world shall stand 
 The most important and effectual guard, 
 
 Support, and ornament of virtue’s cause. 
 
 There stands the messenger of truth : there stands 
 The legate of the skies ! his theme divine. 
 
 His office sacred, his credentials clear. 
 
 By him the violated law speaks out 
 
 Its thunders ; and by him, in strains as sweet 
 
 As angels use, the gospel whispers peace. 
 
 He ’stablishes the strong, restores the weak, 
 
 Reclaims the wanderer, binds the broken heart. 
 
 And, arm’d himself in panoply complete 
 Of heavenly temper, furnishes with arms 
 Bright as his own, and trains, by every rule 
 Of holy discipline, to glorious war, 
 
 The sacramental host of God’s elect! 
 
 Are all such teachers ?—would to Heaven all were ! 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 2916. PUNISHMENT. Inevitable 
 
 All vice to which man yields in greed to do it, 
 
 Or soon or late, be sure, he’ll sorely rue it. 
 
 The whole creation’s strange and endless dealing, 
 
 In spite of shields and veils and arts concealing, 
 Proclaims that whosoe’er is long a sinner, 
 
 Can only be by it of woe a winner. 
 
 Oriental , tr. by IV. R. Alger. 
 
 2917. PUNISHMENT : necessary. 
 
 The land wants such 
 As dare with rigour execute the laws. 
 
 Her fester’d members must be lanced and tented : ■ 
 He’s a bad surgeon that for pity spares 
 The part corrupted till the gangrene spread, 
 
 And all the body perish : he that’s merciful 
 Unto the bad, is cruel to the good.— Rando 7 ph. 
 
PUNISHMENT 
 
 565 
 
 RATIONALISM 
 
 2918. PUNISHMENT: not to be administered 
 
 vindictively. 
 
 Ve princes all, and rulers every one, 
 
 In punishment beware of hatred’s ire. 
 
 Before you scourge, take heed ; look well thereon : 
 In wrath’s ill will, if malice kindle fire, 
 
 Your hearts will burn in such a hot desire, 
 
 That, in those flames, the smoke shall dim your sight, 
 Ye shall forget to join your justice right. 
 
 You should not judge till things be well discern’d ; 
 
 Your charge is still to maintain upright laws : 
 
 In conscience’ rules ye should be thoroughly learn’d— 
 Where clemency bids wrath and rashness pause ; 
 And further saith, strike not without a cause : 
 
 And when ye smite, do it for justice’ sake ; 
 
 Then in good part each man your scourge will take. 
 
 Churchyard. 
 
 2919. PURITY.' 
 
 Who has a breast so pure, 
 
 But some uncleanly apprehensions 
 f Keep leets, and law-days, and in session sit 
 With meditations lawful ?— Shakespeare. 
 
 2920. PURPOSE : should be promptly carried 
 
 into effect. 
 
 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.— Shakespeare. 
 
 2921. PURPOSE. Unshaken 
 
 No wrath of men or rage of seas ’ 
 
 Can shake a just man’s purposes ; 
 
 No threats of tyrants, or the grim 
 Visage of them, can alter him ; 
 
 But what he doth at first intend. 
 
 That he holds firmly to the end.— Herrick. " 
 
 2922. QUARRELS. 
 
 Dissensions, like small streams, are first begun ; 
 Scarce seen they rise, but gather as they run : 
 
 So lines that from their parallel decline, 
 
 More they proceed the more they still disjoin. 
 
 Garth. 
 
 2923. RAILLERY. 
 
 Above all things raillery decline, 
 
 Nature but few does for that task design : 
 
 ’Tis in the ablest hands a dangerous tool, 
 
 But never fails to wound the meddling fool; 
 
 For all must grant it needs no common art 
 To keep men patient when we make them smart. 
 
 No wit alone, nor humour’s self, will do, 
 
 Without good-nature, and much prudence too, 
 
 To judge aright of persons, place, and time ; 
 
 For taste decrees what’s low, and what’s sublime ; 
 And what might charm to-day, or o’er a glass, 
 Perhaps at court, or next day, would not pass. 
 
 Stilling fleet. 
 
 2924. RAIN. 
 
 How beautiful is the rain! 
 
 After the dust and heat, 
 
 In the broad and fiery street, 
 
 In the narrow lane, 
 
 How beautiful is the rain ! 
 
 How it clatters along the roofs, 
 
 Like the tramp of hoofs ! 
 
 How it gushes and struggles out 
 
 From the throat of the overflowing spout! 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 2925. RASHNESS. 
 
 We may outrun 
 
 By violent swiftness that which we run at, 
 
 And lose by overrunning.— Shakespeare. 
 
 All great concernments must delays endure ; 
 Rashness and haste make all things unsecure ; 
 
 And if uncertain thy pretensions be, 
 
 Stay till fit time wear out uncertainty.— Denham. 
 
 2926. RATIONALISM. Uncertainty of 
 
 Dim as the borrow’d beams of moon and stars 
 To lonely, wear} 7 , wandering travellers, 
 
 Is Reason to the soul: and as on high 
 Those rolling fires discover but the sky, 
 
 Not light us here ; so Reason’s glimmering ray 
 Was lent, not to assure our doubtful way, 
 
 But guide us upward to a better day. 
 
 And as those nightly tapers disappear 
 
 When Day’s bright lord ascends our hemisphere ; 
 
 So pale grows Reason at Religion’s sight; 
 
 So dies, and so dissolves in supernatural light. 
 
 Some few, whose lamps shone brighter, have been 
 led 
 
 From cause to cause, to nature’s secret head ; 
 
 And found that one first principle must be : 
 
 But what, or who, that universal He ; 
 
 Whether some soul encompassing this ball, 
 
 Unmade, unmoved ; yet making, moving all; 
 
 Or various atoms’ interfering dance 
 Leap’d into form, the noble work of chance ; 
 
 Or this great all was from eternity ; 
 
 Not e’en the Stagirite himself could see ; 
 
 And Epicurus guess’d as well as he : 
 
 As blindly groped they for a future state ; 
 
 I As rashly judged of providence and fate : 
 
READING 
 
 566 
 
 REASON 
 
 But least of all could their endeavours find 
 What most concern’d the good of humankind : 
 For happiness was never to be found ; 
 
 But vanish’d from ’em like-enchanted ground. 
 One thought Content the good to be enjoy’d ; 
 Ambition said, Be constantly employ’d : 
 
 The wiser madman did for Virtue toil; 
 
 A thorny, or at best a barren soil: 
 
 In Pleasure some their glutton souls would steep ; 
 But found their line too short, the well too deep, 
 And leaky vessels which no bliss could keep. 
 
 Thus anxious thoughts in endless circles roll. 
 Without a centre where to fix the soul: 
 
 In this wild maze their vain endeavours end: 
 
 How can the less the greater comprehend ? 
 
 Or finite reason reach Infinity ? 
 
 For what could fathom God were more than He. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 2927. READING. 
 
 Who reads 
 
 Incessantly, and to his reading brings not 
 A spirit and judgment equal or superior, ’ 
 Uncertain and unsettled still remains : 
 Deep-versed in books, but shallow in himself. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 Silent companions of the lonely hour, 
 
 Friends who can never alter or forsake, 
 
 Who for inconstant roving have no power, 
 
 And all neglect, perforce, must calmly take,— 
 Let me return to you ; this turmoil ending 
 
 Which worldly cares have in my spirit wrought, 
 And, o’er your old familiar pages bending, 
 
 Refresh my mind with many a tranquil thought. 
 Till haply meeting there, from time to time. 
 Fancies, the audible echo of my own, 
 
 J Twill be like hearing in a foreign clime 
 My native language spoke in friendly tone ; 
 
 And with a sort of welcome I shall dwell 
 On these, my unripe musings, told so well. 
 
 Mrs Norton : To My Books. 
 
 2928. REASON. Audacity of 
 
 With scanty line shall Reason dare to mete 
 Th’ immeasurable depth of providence ? 
 
 On the swoln bladders of opinion borne, 
 
 She floats awhile, then, floundering, sinks absorb’d 
 Within that boundless sea she strove to grasp. 
 
 Shall man, here station’d to revere that God 
 Who call’d him into being from the dust, 
 
 His mortal scheme implead, and, impious, cite 
 Th’ Almighty Legislator to the bar 
 Of erring intellect ?— Bally. 
 
 2929. REASON. Faith and 
 
 True faith and reason are the soul’s two eyes: 
 Uaith evermore looks upward, and descries 
 
 Objects remote ; but Reason can discover 
 Things only near,—sees nothing that’s above her. 
 
 Quarles. 
 
 1 hough Reason cannot through Faith’s mysteries see, 
 It sees that there and such they be ; 
 
 Though it, like Moses, by a sad command 
 Must not come into th’ Holy Land, 
 
 Yet thither it infallibly does guide, 
 
 And from afar ’tis all descried. — Cowley. 
 
 Reason the root; fair Faith is but the flower; 
 
 The fading flower shall die, but Reason lives 
 Immortal, as her Father in the skies.— Young. 
 
 2930. REASON. Instinct and 
 
 Reason’s progressive ; Instinct is complete : 
 
 Swift Instinct leaps; slow Reason feebly climbs* 
 Brutes soon their zenith reach. In ages they 
 No more could know, do, covet, or enjoy. 
 
 Were man to live coeval with the sun, 
 
 The patriarch pupil would be learning still. 
 
 Young.. 
 
 2931. REASON: insufficient. 
 
 I see the errors that I would avoid, 
 
 And have my reason still, but not the use on’t : 
 
 It hangs upon me like a wither’d limb 
 Bound up and numb’d by some disease’s frost. 
 
 The form the same, but all the use is lost. 
 
 Howard,. 
 
 I would not always reason. The straight path 
 Wearies us with its never-varying lines, 
 
 And we grow melancholy. I would make 
 Reason my guide, but she should sometimes sit 
 Patiently by the wayside, while I traced 
 The mazes of the pleasant wilderness 
 Around me. She should be my counsellor 
 But not my tyrant. For the spirit needs 
 Impulses from a deeper source than hers, 
 
 And there are motions, in the mind of man, 
 
 That she must look upon with awe.— Bryant. 
 
 2932. REASON : intermittent. 
 
 Thought 
 
 Precedes the will to think, and error lives 
 Ere reason can be born. Reason, the power 
 To guess at right and wrong, the twinkling lamp y 
 Of wand’ring life, that winks and wakes by turns,. 
 Fooling the follower betwixt shade and shining. 
 
 Congreve. 
 
 2 933 - REASON : not to lie unused. 
 
 Sure He that made us with such large discourse. 
 Looking before and after, gave us not 
 
REASON 
 
 567 
 
 REDEMPTION 
 
 That capability and godlike reason 
 To rust in us unused.— Shakespeare. 
 
 2934. REASON. Province of 
 
 Where men have several faiths, to find the true. 
 
 We only can the aid of reason use ; 
 
 ’Tis reason shows us which we should eschew, 
 
 When by comparison we learn to choose. 
 
 But though we there on reason must rely, 
 
 Where men to several faiths their minds dispose ; 
 Yet after reason’s choice, the schools are shy 
 
 To let it judge the very faith it chose.— Davenant. 
 
 ’Tis reason’s part 
 To govern and to guard the heart, 
 
 To lull the wayward soul to rest, 
 
 When hopes and fears distract the breast; 
 Reason may calm this doubtful strife, 
 
 And steer thy bark through various life. 
 
 Cotton. 
 
 2935. REBELLION. 
 
 Want made them murmur ; for the people who, 
 To get their bread, do wrestle with their fate, 
 
 Or those who in superfluous riot flow, 
 
 Soonest rebel: convulsions in a state, 
 
 Like those which natural bodies do oppress, 
 
 Rise from repletion, or from emptiness ,—Aleyn. 
 
 Let them call it mischief: 
 
 When it’s past and prosper’d, ’twill be virtue. 
 
 Ben Jonson. 
 
 Who strikes at sov’reign power had need strike home; 
 For storms that fail to blow the cedar down, 
 
 May tear the branches, but they fix the roots. 
 
 Jeffrey. 
 
 The sight 
 
 Of blood to crowds begets the thirst of more, 
 
 As the first wine-cup leads to the long revel; 
 
 And you will find a harder task to quell 
 Than urge them when they have commenced; but 
 till 
 
 That moment a mere voice, a straw, a shadow, 
 
 Are capable of turning them aside .—Byron. 
 
 A spark creates the flame ; ’tis the last drop 
 Which makes the cup run o’er, and mine was full 
 Already. — Byron. 
 
 Rebellion ! foul dishonouring word, 
 
 Whose wrongful blight so oft has stain’d 
 The holiest cause that tongue or sword 
 Of mortal ever lost or gain’d ! 
 
 How many a spirit born to bless 
 
 Hath sunk beneath that withering name, 
 Whom but a day’s, an hour’s success 
 Had wafted to eternal fame ! 
 
 As exhalations, when they burst 
 From the warm earth, if chill’d at first, 
 
 If check’d in soaring from the plain, 
 
 Darken to fogs and sink again 
 But if they once triumphant spread 
 Their wings above the mountain-head, 
 
 Become enthroned in upper air, 
 
 And turn to sun-bright glories there \—Moore. 
 
 2936. RECOGNITION. Hope of 
 
 I count the hope no day-dream of the mind, 
 
 No vision fair of transitory hue, 
 
 The souls of those whom once on earth we knew, 
 And loved, and walk’d with, in communion kind, 
 Departed hence, again in heaven to find. 
 
 Such hope to nature’s sympathies is true ; 
 
 And such, we deem, the holy Word to view 
 Unfolds, an antidote for grief design’d, 
 
 One drop from comfort’s well. ,r l is thus we read 
 The Book of life : but if we read amiss, 
 
 By God prepared fresh treasures shall succeed 
 To kinsmen, fellows, friends, a vast abyss 
 Of joy ; nor aught the longing spirit need, 
 
 To fill its measure of enormous bliss. Plant. 
 
 2937. RED SEA. Song of Israel at the 
 
 Sound the loud timbrel o’er Egypt’s dark sea : 
 Jehovah has triumph’d,—His people are free ! 
 
 Sing ! for the pride of the tyrant is broken: 
 
 His chariot and horsemen all splendid and brave, 
 How vain was their boasting ! the Lord hath but 
 spoken. 
 
 And chariot and horsemen are sunk in the wave ! 
 Sound the loud timbrel o’er Egypt’s dark sea : 
 Jehovah has triumph’d,—His people are free ! 
 
 Praise to the Conqueror ! praise to the Lord ! 
 
 His word was our arrow, His breath was our sword ! 
 Who shall return to tell Egypt the story 
 
 Of those she sent forth in the hour of her pride ! 
 For the Lord hath look’d out from His pillar of gloiy, 
 And all her brave thousands are dash’d in the tide. 
 Sound the loud timbrel o’er Egypt’s dark sea : 
 Jehovah has triumph’d,—His people are free ! 
 
 Moore. 
 
 2938. REDEMPTION. Condition of 
 
 Half mankind maintain a churlish strife 
 With Him, the Donor of eternal life, 
 
 Because the deed, by which His love confirms 
 The largess He bestows, prescribes the terms. 
 Compliance with His will your lot insures, 
 
 Accept it only, and the boon is yours. 
 
REDEMPTION 
 
 568 
 
 REJOICING 
 
 
 And sure it is as kind to smile and give, 
 
 As with a frown to say, Do this, and live. 
 
 Couper. 
 
 2939. REDEMPTION. Mystery of 
 
 d he grand redemption of degenerate man 
 Is not a single, independent act, 
 
 Rut one great system ; that, perchance, involved 
 In the one only greater, God’s high law 
 Pervading and supporting every part 
 Of the stupendous universe : to thee, 
 
 Dark are the system’s limits ; nay, the whole 
 To thee unknown, save some minuter spots. 
 Display’d to show the parts thou hast to act 
 In the alarming scene.— Hey. 
 
 2940. REFORM. Consistent 
 
 ' Pis not to cry God mercy, or to sit 
 And droop, or to confess that thou hast fail’d : 
 Tis to bewail the sins thou didst commit, 
 
 And not commit those sins thou hast bewail’d. 
 He that bewails, and not forsakes them too, 
 Confesses rather what he means to do.— Quarles. 
 
 294REFORM. Course of 
 
 The outworn rite, the old abuse, 
 
 The pious fraud transparent grown, 
 
 The good held captive in the use 
 Of wrong alone— 
 
 These wait their doom, from that great law 
 Which makes the past time serve to-day ; 
 And fresher life the world shall draw 
 From their decay. 
 
 Oh backward-looking son of time ! 
 
 The new is old, the old is new, 
 
 The cycle of a change sublime 
 
 Still sweeping through. 
 
 So wisely taught the Indian seer; 
 
 Destroying Seva, forming Brahm, 
 
 Who wake by turn Earth’s love and fear, 
 
 Are one, the same. 
 
 Idly as thou, in that old day 
 Thou mournest, did thy sire repine ; 
 
 So, in his time, thy child grown grey 
 Shall sigh for thine. 
 
 But life shall on and upward go ; 
 
 Th’ eternal step of Progress beats 
 To that great anthem, calm and slow, 
 
 Which God repeats. 
 
 Take heart! The Waster builds again; 
 
 A charmed life old Goodness hath ; 
 
 The tares may perish, but the grain 
 Is not for death. 
 
 God works in all things ; all obey 
 His first propulsion from the night: 
 
 W ake thou and watch ! the world is grey 
 
 With morning light. — Whittier. 
 
 2942. REFORM 1 effected with difficulty. 
 
 Habitual evils change not on a sudden, 
 
 But many days must pass, and many sorrows; 
 Conscious remorse and anguish must be felt, 
 
 To curb desire, to break the stubborn will. 
 
 And work a second nature in the soul, 
 
 Ere Virtue can resume the place she lost. 
 
 Rmue. 
 
 2 943 * REFORM : needs skill as well as zeal. 
 
 Wise experience 
 
 Gives us to know, that in th’ lopping of trees, 
 The skilful hand prunes but the lower branches, 
 And leaves the top still growing, to extract 
 Sap from the root, as meaning to reform, 
 
 Not to destroy. — Tat ham. 
 
 2944. REFUGE. The Sinner’s 
 
 When rising wind and rain descending 
 A near approaching storm declare, 
 
 With trembling speed, their wings extending, 
 The birds to sheltering trees repair. 
 
 So I, by faith, with sin oppress’d, 
 
 Would refuge take, O Christ, in Thee; 
 Thou art my hiding-place and rest, 
 
 From every evil shelter me. 
 
 2945. REJOICING. Occasions for 
 
 Rejoice, though storms assail thee ; 
 
 Rejoice, when skies are bright; 
 
 Rejoice, though round thy pathway 
 Is spread the gloom of night: 
 
 If the good hope be in thee 
 That all at last is well, 
 
 Then let thy happy spirit 
 With joyful feelings swell! 
 
 Look back on early childhood, 
 
 And let thy soul rejoice ! 
 
 Who then upheld thy goings, 
 
 And tuned thy feeble voice ? 
 
 Look back on youth’s gay visions, 
 
 When life one glory seem’d : 
 
 Who pour’d those rays of gladness 
 Which on thy prospect beam’d ? 
 
 Recall the hours of anguish, 
 
 And let thy soul rejoice, 
 
 Though wave on wave of sorrow 
 Rush on with fearful noise : 
 
RELIGION 
 
 RELIGION 
 
 b b9 
 
 Was not the Bow of Promise 
 Still seen amidst the gloom, 
 
 Shedding its hallow’d lustre 
 E’en round the silent tomb ? 
 
 Rejoice, rejoice for ever, 
 
 Though earthly friends be gone ! 
 
 For silently and swiftly 
 
 The wheels of time roll on ; 
 
 And still they bear thee forward 
 Nearer that happy shore, 
 
 While the triumphant song is, 
 
 Rejoice for evermore. 
 
 2946. RELIGION : a source of peace and joy. 
 
 Religion ! Providence ! an after state ! 
 
 Here is firm footing ; here is solid rock ! 
 
 This can support us ; all is sea besides ; 
 
 Sinks under us ; bestorms, and then devours. 
 
 His hand the good man fastens on the skies, 
 
 And bids earth roll, nor feels her idle whirl. 
 
 As when a wretch, from thick polluted air, 
 Darkness, and stench, and suffocating damps, 
 And dungeon horrors, by kind fate discharged, 
 Climbs some fair eminence, where ether pure 
 Surrounds him, and Elysian prospects rise, 
 
 His heart exults, his spirits cast their load ; 
 
 As if new-born, he triumphs in the change : 
 
 So joys the soul, when from inglorious aims, 
 And sordid sweets, from feculence and froth 
 Of ties terrestrial, set at large, she mounts 
 To reason’s region, her own element, 
 
 Breathes hopes immortal, and affects the skies. 
 
 Young. 
 
 2947. RELIGION. Growth in 
 
 The strong right arm is only strong 
 Because an active will 
 Has made it serve. But, were that arm 
 Left idly hanging still, 
 
 ’Twould lose the hoarded strength of years, 
 And lose more rapidly 
 Than it was gain’d, by Nature’s law 
 Of inactivity. 
 
 ’Tis true of souls. They gather strength 
 With every cross they bear ; 
 
 With every humble sacrifice ; 
 
 With every heartfelt prayer ; 
 
 With every conflict bravely met. 
 
 And trial bravely borne ; 
 
 With every throb of anguish felt 
 When tender ties are shorn. 
 
 The tears and toil of praying ones 
 Are wisely, kindly sent 
 
 By Him who knoweth what they need 
 For soul-development. 
 
 The path of idleness is one 
 By vagrant children trod : 
 
 They grow in grace most rapidly 
 Who labour most for God. 
 
 2948. RELIGION : her mission. 
 
 Her end is to direct 
 The judgment and inform the intellect ; 
 
 To lift them up, to brighten, to refine ; 
 
 The soul to soothe, and teach it to resign 
 Its careful joys, bequeathing earth to eaith, 
 
 And seek with her for what alone is worth, 
 
 The spirit’s splendid calm which hath in heaven 
 its birth.— Bailey. 
 
 2949. RELIGION ; in daily life. 
 
 We need not bid, for cloister’d cell, 
 
 Our neighbour and our work farewell. 
 
 Nor strive to wind ourselves too high 
 For sinful man beneath the sky. 
 
 The trivial round, the common task. 
 
 Would furnish all we ought to ask : 
 
 Room to deny ourselves ; a road 
 To bring us, daily, nearer God. Keblc. 
 
 2950. RELIGION. Plainness of 
 
 Could not that wisdom which first broach d the wine. 
 Have thicken’d it with definitions? 
 
 And jagg’d His seamless coat, had that been fine. 
 With curious questions and divisions ? 
 
 But all the doctrine which He taught and gave 
 Was clear as heaven, from whence it came : 
 
 At least those beams of truth, which only save. 
 Surpass in brightness any flame, 
 
 Love God, and love your neighbour; watch and pray ; 
 
 Do as you would be done unto ; 
 
 O dark instructions, even dark as day ! 
 
 Who can these gordian knots undo ? Herbert . 
 
 2951. RELIGION. True 
 
 Seeming devotion doth but gild the knave, 
 
 That’s neither faithful, honest, just, nor brave ; 
 But when religion doth with virtue join, 
 
 It makes a hero like an angel shine. — Waller. 
 
 True Christianity depends on fact : 
 
 Religion is not theory, but act. Hatte. 
 
 Ere wit oblique had broke that steady light, 
 
 Man, like his Maker, saw that all wa.s light; 
 
RELIGION 
 
 570 
 
 RENOWN 
 
 \ 
 
 To virtue in the paths of pleasure trod. 
 
 And own’d a father when he own’d a God. 
 
 Love all the faith, and all th’ allegiance then : 
 
 For nature knew no right divine in men, 
 
 No ill could fear in God ; and understood 
 A sovereign being but a sovereign good. 
 
 True faith, true policy, united ran ; 
 
 That was but love of God, and this of man'.— Pope. 
 
 True Religion 
 Is always mild, propitious, and humble, 
 
 Plays not the tyrant, plants no faith in blood; 
 
 Nor bears destruction on her chariot-wheels ; 
 
 Put stoops to polish, succour, and redress, 
 
 And builds her grandeur on the public good. 
 
 Miller. 
 
 2952. RELIGION : variously presented to the 
 
 world. 
 
 Sacred Religion ! mother of form and fear ! 
 
 How gorgeously sometimes dost thou sit deck’d ! 
 What pompous vestures do we make thee wear! 
 
 V hat stately piles we prodigal erect! 
 
 How sweet peidumed art thou, how shining clear ! 
 
 How solemnly observed ; with what respect! 
 Another time all plain, all quite thread-bare : 
 
 Thou must have all within, and nought without; 
 Sit poorly without light, disrobed ; no care 
 Of outward grace t’ amuse the poor devout: 
 Powerless, unfollow’d : scarcely men can spare 
 The necessary rites to set thee out.— Daniel. 
 
 % 
 
 2953. REMORSE. Fruitless 
 
 W hex cruel deeds are done, in vain relents 
 The doer’s heart, and mournfully repents. 
 
 So when a fire has raged, the smokes that rise 
 In useless lamentation drape the skies. 
 
 Oriental, tr. by IK R. Alger. 
 
 2954. REMORSE. Grounds of 
 
 PIiS eye no more look’d onward, but its gaze 
 Rests where remorse a life misspent surveys. 
 
 What costly treasures strew that waste behind ! 
 
 What whirlwinds daunt the soul that sows the wind ! 
 Py the dark shape of what he is, serene 
 Stands the bright ghost of what he might have been ; 
 Here the vast loss, and there the worthless gain— 
 Vice scorn’d, yet woo’d, and Virtue loved in vain ! 
 
 Bulioer Lytton. 
 
 2955. REMORSE. Kinds of 
 
 Remorse is as the herrt in which it grows : 
 
 If that be gentle, it drops balmy dews 
 Of true repentance ; but if proud and gloomy. 
 
 It is a poison-tree, that, pierced to th’ inmost, 
 
 Weeps only tears of blood. — Coleridge. 
 
 2956. REMORSE. Painfulness of 
 
 Not sharp revenge, nor hell itself, can find 
 A fiercer torment than a guilty mind, 
 
 Which day and night doth dreadfully accuse, 
 Condemns the wretch, and still the charge renews.) 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 2 957 - REMORSE : the torturer of the brave. 
 
 High minds of native pride and force, 
 
 Most deeply feel thy pangs, Remorse! 
 
 Fear for their scourge mean villains have ; 
 
 Thou art the torturer of the brave.— Scott. 
 
 2 9 d°* RENOWN : depends upon character, not | 
 upon place. 
 
 (A Russian Fable .)' 
 
 A HORSEMAN, flying in hot mood 
 Across the wildland to the town, 
 
 Dropp’d from his helmet, in the wood, 
 
 A Diamond that his king might own. 
 
 There in the road the priceless stone 
 Lay long unnoticed, and its ray, 
 
 Divinely colour’d, sparkling shone 
 Amid the clods of duller clay. 
 
 At last a merchant, on his ride, 
 
 With meditative eyes cast down. 
 
 This splendour in the dust descried 
 And took the Diamond to the town. 
 
 There, at high court, its beauty blazed ; 
 
 O’er all the land its fame was known. 
 
 ‘ Oh! ’ sigh’d a Pebble, who had gazed 
 Upon its capture, ‘ happy stone! 
 
 ‘ Take me to town, and I shall be. 
 
 Like Comrade Diamond, set in place. 
 
 Stop, merchant, on the road. Take me; 
 Transport me to the halls of grace.’ 
 
 
 The merchant took this pleader. Eut, 
 
 When they had reach’d their journey’s end. 
 The Pebble in a wall was put, 
 
 A little broken place to mend. 
 
 ‘ It is not happy chance, my friend,’ 
 
 The merchant said, ‘ but noble trait 
 And quality where virtues blend, 
 
 That wins bright fame and high estate.’ 
 
 Laura Sanford. 
 
 2959. RENOWN : ephemeral. 
 
 Oh how weak 
 
 Is mortal man ! how trifling—how confined 
 His scope of vision ! Puff’d with confidence. 
 
 His phrase grows big with immortality, 
 
 
REPENTANCE 
 
 57 i 
 
 REPUTATION 
 
 And he, poor insect of a summer’s day, 
 
 Dreams of eternal honours to his name ; 
 
 Of endless glory and perennial bays. 
 
 He idly reasons of eternity, 
 
 As of the train of ages—when, alas! 
 
 Ten thousand thousand of his centuries 
 
 Are, in comparison, a little point 
 
 Too trivial for account. Oh, it is strange,' 
 
 ’Tis passing strange, to mark his fallacies : 
 
 Behold him proudly view some pompous pile 
 Whose high dome swells to emulate the skies, 
 
 And smile, and say, ‘ My name shall live with this 
 Till time shall be no more ; ’ while at his feet. 
 
 Yea, at his very feet, the crumbling dust 
 Of the fallen fabric of the other day 
 Preaches the solemn lesson. He should know 
 That time must conquer; that the loudest blast 
 That ever fill’d Renown’s obstreperous trump 
 Fades in the lapse of ages, and expires. 
 
 Who lies inhumed in the terrific gloom 
 
 Of the gigantic pyramid ? or who 
 
 Rear’d its huge walls? Oblivion laughs, and says, 
 
 The prey is mine. They sleep, and nevermore 
 
 Their names shall strike upon the ear of man, 
 
 Their memory burst its fetters.— Kirke White. 
 
 2960. REPENTANCE. Blessing of 
 
 When man is born anew. 
 
 And being’s perfect bliss is given, 
 
 Lo, a new Eden starts to view, 
 
 While angel-harps rejoice in heaven— 
 
 ’Tis wondrous all, divinely bright, 
 
 And the new creature walks in light.— Gnnfield. 
 
 2961. REPENTANCE. Plumility of 
 
 On bended knees, replete with godly grief. 
 
 See where the mourner kneels to seek relief, 
 
 No ‘ God, I thank Thee,’ freezes on his tongue, 
 
 For works of merit that to him belong ; 
 
 Deep in his soul conviction’s ploughshare rings, 
 
 And to the surface his corruption brings ; 
 
 Pie loathes himself, in lowest dust he lies, 
 
 And all abased ‘ Unclean, unclean,’ he cries. 
 
 From his full heart pours forth the gushing plea, 
 
 * God of the lost, be merciful to me! ’ 
 
 The light of life descends in heavenly rays. 
 
 And angels shout, and sing, ‘ Behold, he prays. 
 
 W. Holmes. 
 
 2962. REPENTANCE : limit to its power. 
 
 For evils which are ’gainst another done. 
 Repentance makes no satisfaction 
 To him that feels the smart.— Willdns. 
 
 2963. REPENTANCE. Power of 
 
 To thee alone the privilege is given, 
 
 By earthly woe, to kindle joy in heaven, 
 
 For God Himself descends to soothe the heart 
 That weeps o’er sin and struggles to depart; 
 
 And deeper transport swells the bliss above, 
 
 As seraphs sing the triumphs of His love. 
 
 Mitchell. 
 
 2964. REPROOF. 
 
 His temper, therefore, must be well observed : 
 Chide him for faults, and do it reverently, 
 
 When you perceive his blood inclined to mirth ; 
 
 But being moody, give him line and scope, 
 
 Till that his passions, like a whale on ground, 
 Confound themselves with working. Shakespeai e. 
 
 Reprove not in their wrath incensed men; 
 
 Good counsel comes clean out of season then : 
 But when his fury is appeased and past, 
 
 He will conceive his fault, and mend at last : 
 When he is cool and calm, then utter it: 
 
 No man gives physic in the midst o th’ fit. 
 
 Randolph. 
 
 2965. REPUTATION. 
 
 The purest treasure mortal times afford. 
 
 Is spotless reputation ; that away, 
 
 Men are but gilded loam, or painted clay. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Good name, in man and woman, dear my lord, 
 
 Is the immediate jewel of their souls : 
 
 Who steals my purse, steals trash; ’tis something, 
 nothing; 
 
 ’Twas mine, ’tis his, and has been slave to thou¬ 
 sands ; 
 
 But he that filches from me my good name, 
 
 Robs me of that, which not enriches him, 
 
 And makes me poor indeed.-— Shakespeare. 
 
 Thy credit wary keep, ’tis quickly gone : 
 
 Being got by many actions, lost by one. 
 
 Randolph . 
 
 The reputation 
 
 Of virtuous actions pass’d, if not kept up 
 By an access and fresh supply of new ones, 
 
 Is lost and soon forgotten ; and like palaces, 
 
 For want of habitation and repair, 
 
 Dissolve to heaps of ruin. —Denham. 
 
 O reputation ! dearer far than life, 
 
 Thou precious balsam, lovely, sweet of smell. 
 
 Whose cordial drops once spilt by some rash hand 
 Not all the owner’s care, nor the repenting toil 
 Of the rude spiller, ever can collect 
 To its first purity and native sweetness.— Sewell. 
 
RESIGN A TION 
 
 572 
 
 RESIGNATION 
 
 “Who swerves from innocence, who makes divorce 
 Of that serene companion—a good name, 
 Recovers not his loss ; but walks with shame, 
 "With doubt, with fear, and haply with remorse. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 Faith can hold it fast, and feel it sure, 
 
 Though temptations cloud, and fears assail. 
 Why art thou disquieted, my soul, 
 
 When thy Father knows and rules the whole? 
 
 lie is a poor warder of his fame, who is ever on the 
 watch to keep it spotless : 
 
 Such care argueth debility, a garrison relying on its 
 sentinel. 
 
 Passive strength shall scorn excuses, patiently waiting 
 a reaction ; 
 
 He wotteth well that truth is great, and must prevail 
 at last : 
 
 Put fretful weakness hasteth to explain, anxiously 
 dreading prejudice, 
 
 And ignorant that perishable falsehood dieth as a 
 branch cut off. — Tup per. 
 
 2966. RESIGNATION. A call for 
 
 Be still in God ! Who rests on Him 
 Enduring peace shall know, 
 
 And with a spirit fresh and free 
 1 hrough life shall cheerly go. 
 
 Be still in faith ! Forbear to seek 
 Where seeking nought avails, 
 
 Unfold thy soul to that pure light 
 From heaven which never fails. 
 
 Be still in love! Be like the dew 
 That, falling from the skies, 
 
 On meadows green, in thousand cups, 
 
 At morning twinkling lies ! 
 
 Be still in conduct, striving not 
 For honour, wealth, or might ! 
 
 Who in contentment breaks his bread 
 Finds favour in God’s sight. 
 
 Be still in sorrow ! ‘ As God wills ! 
 
 Let that thy motto be ; 
 
 Submissive ’neath His strokes receive 
 His image stamp’d on thee. 
 
 Be still in God! Who rests on Him 
 Enduring peace shall know, 
 
 And with a spirit glad and free 
 
 Through night and grief shall go .—Sturm. 
 
 2967. RESIGNATION. A psalm of 
 
 As Thou wilt, my God ! I ever say ; 
 
 What Thou wilt is ever best for me : 
 
 What have I to do with earthly care, 
 
 Since to-morrow I may leave with Thee ? 
 
 Lord, Thou knowest I am not my own, 
 
 All my hope and help depend on Thee alone. 
 
 As Thou wilt! still I can believe, 
 
 Never did the word of promise fail; 
 
 As Thou wilt! still I can endure 
 Patiently my daily cross to bear : 
 
 Why should I complain, a pardon'd child, 
 
 If the children’s portion here I share ? 
 
 As Thou wilt, my Father and my God ! 
 
 I can drink the cup, and bless the rod. 
 
 Neumeister. 
 
 2968. RESIGNATION. A psalm of 
 
 We see not, know not; all our way 
 Is night,—with Thee alone is day: 
 
 From out the torrent’s double drift, 
 
 Above the storm, our prayers we lift, 
 
 Thy will be done ! 
 
 The flesh may fail, the heart may faint, 
 
 But who are we to make complaint, 
 
 Or dare to plead, in times like these, 
 
 The weakness of our love of ease ? 
 
 Thy will be done ! 
 
 We take with solemn thankfulness 
 Our burden up, nor ask it less. 
 
 And count it joy that even we 
 May suffer, serve, or wait for Thee, 
 
 Whose will be done ! 
 
 Though dim as yet in tint and line, 
 
 We trace Thy picture’s wise design, 
 
 And thank Thee that our age supplies , 
 
 Its dark relief of sacrifice. 
 
 Thy will be done ! 
 
 And if, in our unworthiness, 
 
 Thy sacrificial wine we press ; 
 
 If, from thine ordeal’s heated bars, 
 
 Our feet are seam’d with crimson scars. 
 
 Thy will be done ! 
 
 Strike, Thou the Master, we Thy keys. 
 
 The anthem of the destinies, 
 
 The minor of Thy loftier strain : 
 
 Our hearts shall breathe the old refrain. 
 
 Thy will be done !— Whittier. 
 
 2969. RESIGNATION. Cause for 
 
 All are not taken ! there are left behind 
 Living Beloveds, tender looks to bring, 
 
 And make the daylight still a happy thing. 
 
 And tender voices, to make soft the wind. 
 
 But if it were not so—if I could find 
 
RESIGN A TION 
 
 573 
 
 RESIGNATION 
 
 No love in alt the world for comforting. 
 
 Nor any path but hollowly did ring, 
 
 Where 4 dust to dust ’ the love from life disjoin’d— 
 And if before these sepulchres unmoving 
 I stood alone (as some forsaken lamb 
 
 Goes bleating up the moors in weary dearth), 
 Crying ‘ Where are ye, O my loved and loving ? ’ 
 
 I know a Voice would sound, ‘ Daughter, I am ; 
 Can I suffice for Heaven, and not for earth?’ 
 
 Mrs Browning. 
 
 2970. RESIGNATION. Christian 
 
 Thy way, not mine, O Lord, 
 
 However dark it be ! 
 
 Lead me by Thine own hand. 
 
 Choose out the path for me. 
 
 Smooth let it be or rough, 
 
 It will be still the best, 
 
 Winding or straight, it matters not. 
 
 It leads me to Thy rest. 
 
 I dare not choose my lot; 
 
 I would not, if I might: 
 
 Choose Thou for me, my God, 
 
 So shall I walk aright. 
 
 Take Thou my cup, and it 
 With joy or sorrow fill, 
 
 As best to Thee may seem ; 
 
 Choose Thou my good and ill.— Bonar. 
 
 2971. RESIGNATION : its blessedness. 
 
 Blindfolded and alone I stand 
 With unknown thresholds on each hand , 
 
 The darkness deepens as I grope. 
 
 Afraid to fear, afraid to hope : 
 
 Yet this one thing I learn to know 
 Each day more surely as I go, 
 
 That doors are open’d, ways are made. 
 Burdens are lifted or are laid, 
 
 By some great law unseen and still, 
 Unfathom’cl purpose to fulfil, 
 
 4 Not as I will.’ 
 
 Blindfolded and alone I wait ; 
 
 Loss seems too bitter, gain too late; 
 
 Too heavy burdens in the load, 
 
 And too few helpers on the road ; 
 
 And joy is weak and grief is strong. 
 
 And years and days so long, so long : 
 
 Yet this one thing I learn to know 
 Each day more surely as I go, 
 
 That I am glad the good and ill 
 By changeless law are order’d still, 
 
 ‘ Not as I will. 
 
 ‘Not as I will,’ the sound grows sweet. 
 
 Each time my lips the words repeat. 
 
 ‘ Not as I will; * the darkness feels 
 More safe than light when this thought steals- 
 Like whisper’d voice to calm and bless 
 All unrest and all loneliness. 
 
 * Not as I will,’ because the One 
 Who loved us first and best has gone 
 Before us on the road, and still 
 For us must all His love fulfil, 
 
 4 Not as we will.’— Helen Hunt. 
 
 2972. RESIGNATION. Perfect 
 
 My will would like a life of ease, 
 
 And power to do, and time to rest, 
 
 And wealth and health my will would please. 
 But, Lord, I know Thy will is best. 
 
 If I have strength to do Thy will, 
 
 That should be power enough for me, 
 Whether to walk or to sit still 
 
 Th’ appointment of the day may be. 
 
 And if by sickness I may grow 
 More patient, holy, and resign’d, 
 
 Strong health I need not wish to know. 
 
 And greater ease I cannot find. 
 
 And rest—I need not seek it here— 
 
 For perfect rest remaineth still; 
 
 When in Thy presence we appear 
 Rest shall be given by Thy will. 
 
 Lord, I have given my life to Thee, 
 
 And every day and hour is 1 hine, 
 
 What Thou appointest, let them be, 
 
 Thy will is better, Lord, than mine. 
 
 I 2973. RESIGNATION. Prayer for 
 
 I ask not now for gold to gild 
 
 With mocking shine a weary frame ; 
 The yearning of the mind is still d, 
 
 I ask not now for fame. 
 
 A rose-cloud dimly seen above, 
 
 Melting in heaven’s blue depths away, 
 O sweet, fond dream of human love, 
 
 For thee I may not pray. 
 
 But, bow’d in lowliness of mind, 
 
 I make my humble wishes known, 
 
 I only ask a will resign’d, ( 
 
 O Father, to Thine own. 
 
 To-day, beneath Thy chastening eye, 
 
 I crave alone for peace and rest, 
 Submissive in Thy hand to lie, 
 
 And feel that it is best. 
 
RE SIGN A TION 
 
 574 
 
 RESIGNATION 
 
 Then all I want, (O do Thou grant 
 This one request of mine!) 
 
 Since to enjoy Thou didst deny, 
 Assist me to resign. — Burns. 
 
 A marvel seems the universe, 
 
 A miracle our life and death ; 
 
 A mystery which I cannot pierce, 
 Around, above, beneath ! 
 
 In vain I task mine aching brain, 
 
 In vain the sage’s thought I scan : 
 I only feel how weak and vain 
 And poor and blind is man. 
 
 And now my spirit sighs for home, 
 
 And longs for light whereby to see, 
 
 And like a weary child would come, 
 
 O Father, unto Thee. 
 
 Though oft, like letters traced on sand, 
 
 My weak resolves have pass’d away. 
 
 In mercy lend Thy helping hand 
 
 Unto my prayer to-day \—Whittier. 
 
 2974. RESIGNATION. Prayer for 
 
 O Thou, whose sacred feet have trod, 
 
 The thorny path of woe. 
 
 Forbid that I should slight the rod, 
 
 Or faint beneath the blow. 
 
 My spirit to its chastening stroke 
 I meekly would resign, 
 
 Nor murmur at the heaviest yoke 
 That tells me I am Thine. 
 
 Give me the spirit of Thy trust, 
 
 To suffer as a son,— 
 
 To say, though lying in the dust, 
 
 My Father’s will be done ! 
 
 I know that trial works for ends 
 Too high for sense to trace,— 
 
 That oft in dark attire He sends 
 Some embassy of grace. 
 
 Mny none depart till I have gain’d 
 The blessing which it bears, 
 
 And learn’d, though late, I entertain’d 
 An angel unawares. 
 
 So shall I bless the hour that sent 
 The mercy of the rod, 
 
 And build an altar by the tent 
 
 'Where I have met with God. —J. D. Burns . 
 
 2 9 - 5 - RESIGNATION. Prayers for 
 
 I iiou Power supreme ! whose mighty scheme 
 These woes of mine fulfil, 
 
 Here firm I rest; they must be best, 
 
 Because they are Thy will! 
 
 Lord Jesus, as Thou wilt! 
 
 Oh ! may Thy will be mine; 
 
 Into Thy hand of love 
 would my all resign. 
 
 Through sorrow or through joy. 
 
 Conduct me as Thine own ; 
 
 And help me still to say, 
 
 My Lord, Thy will be done. 
 
 a 2976. RESIGNATION. Reasonableness of 
 
 The good we have enjoy’d from Heaven’s free will; 
 And shall we murmur to endure the ill Dry den. 
 
 2977. RESIGNATION. Reason for 
 
 Children, that lay their pretty garlands by 
 So piteously, yet with a humble mind ; 
 
 Sailois, who, when their ship rocks in the wind, 
 Cast out her freight with half-averted eye, 
 
 Riches for life exchanging solemnly, 
 
 Lest they should never gain the wished-for shore— 
 Thus we, O Father, standing Thee before, 
 
 Do lay down at Thy feet without a sigh, 
 
 Each after each, our precious things and rare. 
 
 Our dear heart-jewels and our garlands fair. 
 
 Pei haps Thou knewest that the flower would die, 
 And the long-voyaged hoards be found but dust; 
 
 So took’st them, while unchanged. To Thee we trust 
 For incorruptible treasure: Thou art just. 
 
 D. AT. Muloch Craik. 
 
 297b. RESIGNATION. Reasons for 
 
 Let nothing make thee sad or fretful 
 Or too regretful; 
 
 Be still; 
 
 What God hath order’d must be right. 
 
 Then find in it thine own delight, 
 
 My will. 
 
 , W hy shouldst thou fill to-day with sorrow 
 About to-morrow. 
 
 My heart! 
 
 One watches all with care most true, 
 
 Doubt not that He will give thee, too. 
 
 Thy part. 
 
 Only be steadfast, never waver, 
 
 Nor seek earth’s favour, 
 
 But rest; 
 
 1 hou knowest what God wills must be 
 For all His creatures, so for thee, 
 
 The best.— Fleming. 
 
REST 
 
 575 
 
 REST 
 
 2979. REST. Hymn of 
 Rest, weary soul ! 
 
 The penalty is borne, the ransom paid, 
 
 For all thy sins full satisfaction made ; 
 
 Strive not to do thyself what Christ has done, 
 Claim the free gift, and make the joy thine own ; 
 No more by pangs of guilt and fear distrest, 
 
 Rest, sweetly rest ! 
 
 Rest, weary heart, 
 
 From all thy silent griefs, and secret pain, 
 
 Thy profitless regrets, and longings vain ; 
 Wisdom and love have order’d all the past, 
 
 All shall be blessedness and light at last; 
 
 Cast off the cares that have so long opprest; 
 Rest, sweetly rest! 
 
 Rest, weary head ! 
 
 Lie down to slumber in the peaceful tomb : 
 
 Light from above has broken through its gloom ; 
 Here, in the place where once thy Saviour lay, 
 Where He shall wake thee on a future day, 
 
 Like a tired child upon its mother’s breast, 
 
 Rest, sweetly rest! 
 
 Rest, spirit free ! 
 
 In the green pastures of the heavenly shore, 
 Where sin and sorrow can approach no more, 
 With all the flock by the Good Shepherd fed, 
 Beside the streams of Life eternal led, 
 
 For ever with thy God and Saviour blest, 
 
 Rest, sweetly rest! 
 
 2980. REST. Idleness is not 
 
 To find Himself, our Way, our Life, our Peace : 
 
 In Him the long unrest is soothed and still’d ; 
 
 Our hearts are fill’d. 
 
 O rest, so true, so sweet ! 
 
 (Would it were shared by all the weary world !) 
 ’Neath shadowing banner of His love unfurl’d, 
 
 We bend to kiss the Master’s pierced feet ; 
 
 Then lean our love upon His loving breast 
 
 And know God’s rest. 
 
 Frances R. Havergal. 
 
 2982. REST. Praise for 
 
 No lambkin by its shepherd borne. 
 
 No dove its mate caressing, 
 
 No bondman freed, no pilgrim worn, 
 
 The grateful shade possessing; 
 
 No child clasp'd to its mother’s heart. 
 
 No sick man when his pains depart, 
 
 No warrior, home returning ; 
 
 No man can know such perfect rest 
 As that which ends our weary quest, 
 
 Our gracious Lord discerning. 
 
 Oh winning words ! ‘ Come unto me, 1 
 Ye weary and forsaken ! ’ 
 
 They gave me rest: I came to Thee ; 
 
 Mv burden Thou hast taken. 
 
 Thus I am well who once was ill; ' 
 
 Up, soul! Thy lips with praises fill, 
 
 For praise Thy peace deserveth. 
 
 O Saviour ! make me yet more blest ; 
 
 Let me at last attain that rest, 
 
 Which Heaven for me reserveth ! 
 
 Hiller , tr. by Professor Dunn . 
 
 Absence of occupation is not rest; 
 
 A mind quite vacant is a mind distress’d. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 2981. REST : only to be found in God. 
 
 Made for Thyself, O God ! 
 
 Made for Thy love, Thy service, Thy delight; 
 
 Made to show forth Thy wisdom, grace, and might ; 
 Made for Thy praise, whom veil’d archangels laud ; 
 Oh, strange and glorious thought, that we may be 
 
 A joy to Thee! 
 
 Yet the heart turns away 
 From this grand destiny of bliss, and deems 
 ’Twas made for its poor self, for passing dreams, 
 Chasing illusions, melting day by day ; 
 
 Till for ourselves we read on this world’s best, 
 
 ‘ This is not rest! ’ 
 
 Nor can the vain toil cease, 
 
 Till in the shadowy maze of life we meet 
 One who can guide our aching wayward feet 
 
 2983. REST : the gift of Christ. 
 
 ‘Come ye yourselves apart, and rest awhile, 
 
 With labour weary, and with crowds opprest 
 Straightway they cross the sea at His behest, 
 
 Their leisure sweeten’d by the Master’s smile. 
 
 ‘Come to the lonely shore, or forest aisle,’ 
 
 To us His gracious word is now addrest, 
 
 ‘ Come to the mountain-solitude, and rest, 
 
 Where peaceful hours may careful hearts beguiled 
 
 My Master, in Thine hand it is to measure 
 My times of work and weariness for Thee : 
 
 My times of rest return at Thy good pleasure. 
 
 By lake or mountain, wood or murmuring sea : 
 
 But, to give sweetness to my hours of leisure. 
 Come Thou Thyself, O Lord, and rest with me ! 
 
 Wilton. 
 
 2984. REST : the reward of the righteous. 
 
 Hail, heavenly voice, once heard in Patmos; 
 ‘ Write, 
 
 Henceforth the dead who die in Christ are blest: 
 
REST 
 
 576 RESURRECTION 
 
 Yea, saith the Spirit, for they now shall rest 
 From all their labours ! ’ But no dull, dark night 
 That rest o’ershadows: ’tis the day-spring bright 
 Of bliss; the foretaste of a richer feast; 
 
 A sleep, if sleep it be, of lively zest, 
 
 Peopled with visions of intense delight. 
 
 And though the secrets of that resting-place 
 The soul embodied knows not; yet she knows 
 iNo sin is there God’s likeness to deface, 
 
 To stint His love, no purgatorial woes ; 
 
 Her dross is left behind, nor mixture base 
 Mars the pure stream of her serene repose. 
 
 Mant. 
 
 2985. REST. The Soul’s 
 
 Return, my soul, unto thy rest. 
 
 From vain pursuits and maddening cares, 
 
 From lonely woes that wring thy breast. 
 
 The world’s allurements—Satan’s snares. 
 
 God is thy rest—with heart inclined 
 To keep His Word, that Word believe; 
 
 Christ is thy Rest—with lowly mind 
 
 His light and easy yoke receive.— Montgomery. 
 
 2986. REST. True 
 
 Sweet is the pleasure 
 Itself cannot spoil! 
 
 Is not true leisure 
 One with true toil ? 
 
 Thou that wouldst taste it. 
 
 Still do thy best; 
 
 Use it, not waste it— 
 
 Else ’tis no rest. 
 
 W ouldst behold beauty 
 Near thee ? all round? 
 
 Only hath duty 
 Such a sight found. 
 
 Rest is not quitting 
 The busy career; 
 
 Rest is the fitting 
 Of self to its sphere. 
 
 ’Tis the brook’s motion. 
 
 Clear without strife, 
 
 Fleeing to ocean 
 After its life. 
 
 Deeper devotion 
 Nowhere hath knelt; 
 
 Fuller emotion 
 Heart never felt. 
 
 ’Tis loving and serving 
 The highest and best; 
 
 ’Tis onwards ! unswerving— 
 
 And that is true rest.— Dwight. 
 
 2987. REST : where it is to be found. 
 
 O little birds, fly east again ! O little birds, fly west! 
 
 Ye have found no happy city in all your wandering 
 quest; 
 
 Still shall ye find no spot of rest wherever ye may 
 stray, 
 
 And still, like ye, the weary soul must wing its weary 
 way ! 
 
 There sleepeth no such city within the wide earth’s 
 bound, 
 
 Nor hath the dreaming fancy yet its blissful portals 
 found. 
 
 We are but children, crying here, upon a mother’s j 
 breast, 
 
 For life, and peace, and blessedness, and for eternal 
 rest! 
 
 Bless God! I hear a still small voice above life’s 
 clamorous din, 
 
 Saying, ‘ Faint not, O weary one, thou yet may’st 
 enter in! 
 
 That city is prepared for those who well do win the 
 fight, 
 
 Who tread the wine-press till its blood hath wash’d 
 them pure and white. 
 
 Y> ithin it is no darkness, nor any baleful flower 
 
 Shall there oppress thy waking eyes with stupefying 
 power ; 
 
 It lieth calm, within the light of God’s peace-giving 
 breast, 
 
 Its walls are call’d Salvation,— that city’s name is 
 “Rest! ” ’— From 1 Household Words! 
 
 Not in this weary world of ours 
 Can perfect rest be found ; 
 
 Thorns mingle with its fairest flowers, 
 
 Even on cultured ground ; 
 
 Earth’s pilgrim still his loins must gird 
 To seek a lot more blest; 
 
 And this must be his onward word— 
 
 ‘ In heaven alone is rest! ’— Barton. 
 
 2988. RESURRECTION. Analogies of the j 
 
 The seed, the insentient seed, 
 
 Buried beneath the earth, 
 
 Starts from its dusty bed, 
 
 Responsive to the voice of spring, 
 
 And covers mead and mountain, 
 
 Fields and forests, with its life. 
 
 Myriads of creatures, too, that lay 
 As dead as dust on every inch of ground, 
 d ouch’d by the vernal ray, 
 
 Spring from their little graves, and sport 
 On beauteous wings in fields of sunnied air. 
 
 Shall this be so ? shall plants and worms 
 
RESURRECTION 
 
 577 
 
 RETIREMENT 
 
 Come forth to life again ? And oil, shall man 
 
 Descend into the grave to rise no more ? 
 
 Shall he, the master of this world, 
 
 Image and offspring of the fontal life, 
 
 Through endless ages sleep in dust?— Thomas. 
 
 2989. RESURRECTION. Emblem of the 
 
 Have you not seen how, pent in narrow room, 
 From leaf to leaf the worm-like insect creeps? 
 Have you not seen how undistinguish’d sleeps 
 That insect, girded by its death-like tomb ? 
 
 Till, bursting forth in vernal beauty’s bloom, 
 
 Quick into life the winged wonder leaps, 
 
 Sports in the sun, the flower, the brooklet sips, 
 Broider’d with brightest tints from nature’s loom ? 
 So man, within his being’s narrow ring, 
 
 Crawls on his kindred earth: so down he lies 
 In wintry slumber wrapt: in life’s new spi'ing 
 Again, no more a grovelling worm, to rise ; 
 
 But seraph-like, to soar on radiant wing, 
 
 And quaff delight ’mid heaven’s unclouded sides. 
 
 Mant. 
 
 2990. RESURRECTION : its certainty. 
 
 Two thousand years ago, a flower 
 Bloom’d brightly in a far-off land ; 
 
 Two thousand years ago, its seed 
 
 Was placed within a dead man’s hand. 
 
 Before the Saviour came to earth, 
 
 That man had lived, and toil’d, and died ; 
 
 But even in that far-off.time 
 
 That flower had shed its perfume wide. 
 
 Suns rose and set, years came and went; 
 
 That dead hand kept its treasure well: 
 
 Nations were born, and turn’d to dust, 
 
 While life was hidden in that shell. 
 
 1 
 
 The senseless hand is robb’d at last; 
 
 The seed is buried in the earth ; 
 
 When lo ! the life, long sleeping there. 
 
 Into a lovely flower burst forth. 
 
 Just such a plant as that which grew 
 From such a seed when buried low, 
 
 Just such a flower in Egypt bloom’d, 
 
 And died—two thousand years ago. 
 
 And will not He who watch’d the seed. 
 
 And kept the life within the shell. 
 
 When those lie loves are laid to rest, 
 
 Watch o’er His buried saints as well ? 
 
 And will not He, from ’neath the sod, 
 
 Cause something glorious to arise ? 
 
 Ay, though it sleeps two thousand years. 
 
 Yet all this slumbering dust shall rise 1 
 
 Just such a face as greets you now’, 
 
 Just such a form as now you w r ear, 
 
 But, oh, more glorious far, shall rise, 
 
 To meet the Saviour in the air ! 
 
 Then will I lay me down in peace, 
 
 When call’d to leave this vale of tears ; 
 
 For ‘ in my flesh I shall see God,’ 
 
 E’en though I sleep a thousand years ! 
 
 Sarah H. Bradford. 
 
 2991. RESURRECTION. Recognition in the 
 
 And shall I e’er again thy features trace, 
 
 Beloved friend ; thy lineaments review ? 
 
 Yes: though the sunken eyes, and livid hue, 
 
 And lips compress’d, have quench’d each lively grace. 
 Death’s triumph ; still I recognize the face 
 Which thine for many a year affection knew: 
 
 And what forbids, that, clothed with life anew’, 
 
 It still on memory’s tablet hold its place ? 
 
 Though then thy cheek with deathless bloom be 
 sheen, 
 
 And rays of splendour •wreathe thy sun-like brow. 
 That change I deem shall sever not between 
 Thee and thy former self; nor disallow 
 That love’s tried eyes discern thee through the screen 
 Of glory then, as of corruption now’.— Mant. 
 
 2992. RESURRECTION : the hope of the right¬ 
 eous. 
 
 Let those deplore their doom 
 Whose hope still grovels in this dark sojourn ; 
 
 But lofty souls can look beyond the tomb, 
 
 Can smile at fate, and wonder how they mourn. 
 Shall Spring to these sad scenes no more return ? 
 Is yonder wave the sun’s eternal bed ? 
 
 Soon shall the orient with new lustre bum. 
 
 And Spring shall soon her vital influence shed, 
 Again attune the grove, again adorn the mead. 
 
 Beattie. 
 
 2993. RETIREMENT. Causes of 
 
 THUS some retire to nourish hopeless w r oe ; 
 
 Some seeking happiness not found below; 
 
 Some to comply with humour, and a mind 
 To social scenes by nature disinclined ; 
 
 Some sway’d by fashion, some by deep disgust; 
 Some self-impoverish’d, and because they must; 
 But few’ that court retirement are aware 
 Of half the toils they must encounter there. 
 
 Cozvper. 
 
 2994. RETIREMENT. Charms of 
 
 Let him that will, ascend the tottering seat 
 Of courtly grandeur, and become as great 
 
 57 
 
RETRIBUTION 
 
 573 
 
 REUNION IN HEAVEN 
 
 As are his mounting wishes : as for me. 
 
 Let sweet repose and rest my portion be ; 
 
 Give me some mean obscure recess, a sphere 
 Out of the road of business, or the fear 
 Of falling lower ; where I sweetly may 
 Myself and dear retirement still enjoy : 
 
 Let not my life or name be known unto 
 The grandees of the time, tost to and fro 
 By censures or applause ; but let my age 
 Slide gently by; not overthwart the stage 
 Of public action ; unheard, unseen, 
 
 And unconcern’d, as if I ne’er had been ; 
 
 And thus, while I shall pass my silent days 
 In shady privacy, free from the noise 
 And bustles of the mad world, then shall I 
 A good old innocent plebeian die. 
 
 Death is a mere surprise, a very snare, 
 
 To him that makes it his life’s greatest care 
 To be a public pageant; known to all, 
 
 But unacquainted with himself, doth fall. 
 
 Sir Matthew Hale: Paraphrase from Seneca. 
 
 I’d rather, like the violet, grow 
 Unmark’d i’ th’ shaded vale, 
 
 Than on the hill those terrors know 
 Are breathed forth by an angry gale : | 
 
 There is more pomp above, more sweet below. 
 
 Habbington. 
 
 How miserable a thing is a great man : 
 
 Take noisy vexing greatness they that please, 
 Give me obscure, and safe, and silent ease. 
 
 Crown. 
 
 How much they err who, to their interest blind, 
 Slight the calm peace which from retirement flows ! 
 And while they think their fleeting joys to bind, 
 Banish the tranauil bliss which Heaven for man 
 
 JL 
 
 design’d !— Mrs Tighe. 
 
 2995. RETRIBUTION. Fact of 
 
 Though the mills of God grind slowly, 
 
 Yet they grind exceeding small; 
 
 Though with patience He stands waiting, 
 
 With exactness grinds He all.— Longfellow. 
 
 2996. REUNION : above. 
 
 If yon bright stars, which gem the night, 
 
 Be each a blissful dwelling-sphere, 
 
 Where kindred spirits reunite, 
 
 Whom death hath torn asunder here ; 
 
 How sweet it were at once to die, 
 
 To leave this blighted orb afar, 
 
 Mixt soul and soul, to cleave the sky, 
 
 And soar away from star to star ! 
 
 But, oh ! how dark, how drear and lone. 
 
 Would seem the brightest world of bliss, 
 
 If, wandering through each radiant one. 
 
 We fail’d to find the loved of this ! 
 
 If there no more the ties shall twine 
 
 Which death’s cold hand alone can sever, 
 
 Ah, then those stars in mockery shine, 
 
 More hateful as they shine for ever 1 
 
 It cannot be !—each hope, each fear, 
 
 That lights the eye or clouds the brow. 
 Proclaims there is a happier sphere 
 
 Than this bleak world that holds us now. 
 
 , There is a voice which sorrow hears, 
 
 When heaviest weighs life’s galling chain, 
 ’Tis Heaven that whispers, ‘ Dry your tears ; 
 The pure in heart shall meet again.’— Leggett. 
 
 2997. REUNION. Place of 
 
 Where no shadow shall bewilder, 
 
 Where life’s vain parade is o’er, 
 
 Where the sleep of sin is broken, 
 
 And the dreamer dreams no more : 
 
 Where the bond is never sever’d ; 
 
 Partings, claspings, sob and moan, 
 
 Midnight waking, twilight weeping, 
 
 Heavy noontide,—all are done : 
 
 Whei'e the child has found its mother, 
 
 Whore the mother finds the child, 
 
 Where dear families are gather’d. 
 
 That were scatter’d on the wild : 
 
 Brother, we shall meet and rest 
 ’Mid the holy and the blest! 
 
 Where the hidden wound is healed, 
 
 Where the blighted light re-blooms, 
 
 Where the smitten heart the freshness 
 Of its buoyant youth resumes : 
 
 Where the love that here we lavish 
 On the withering leaves of time, 
 
 Shall have fadeless flowers to fix: on 
 In an ever spring-bright clime : 
 
 Where we find the joy of loving, 
 
 As we never loved before, 
 
 Loving on, unchill’d, unhinder’d, 
 
 Loving once and evermore : 
 
 Brother, we shall meet and rest, 
 
 ’Mid the holy and the blest!— Bonar. 
 
 2998. REUNION OF FRIENDS IN HEA¬ 
 
 VEN. Moral certainty of the 
 
 Oh ! mocking life if this be not! 
 
 Oh ! mocking love, the curse of life! 
 
 Be husband, father, mother, wife, 
 
 For one brief hour ! O cruel lot ! 
 
REVENGE 
 
 579 
 
 RICHES 
 
 * This cannot be ! * our hearts will cry : 
 
 If all beginnings have their end. 
 
 And perfect justice cannot rend 
 Our issues from us when we die 
 
 If life on earth must meet its due, 
 
 And deeds of good or ill receive 
 Their measure, then we will believe 
 That love shall round its cycle too; 
 
 That these strong heart-strings are not rent, 
 
 But only strain’d and stretch’d awhile, 
 
 And wound about some circling coil 
 Of God’s all-measureless intent. 
 
 And I shall see my own again, 
 
 Shall love them with a richer love ; 
 
 And by their side shall blissful move, 
 
 And thankful think of this day’s pain. 
 
 C. IV. Conder. 
 
 2999. REVENGE: blind. 
 
 If happiness be a substantial good, 
 
 Not framed of accidents, nor subject to them, 
 
 I err’d to seek it in a blind revenge.— Denham. 
 
 3000. REVENGE. Disgrace of 
 
 You satisfy your anger, and revenge : 
 
 Suppose this, it will not 
 
 Repair your loss ; and there was never yet 
 
 But shame and scandal in a victor} 7 , 
 
 When, rebels unto reason, passions fought it: 
 Then for revenge, by great souls it was ever 
 Contemn’d, though offer’d, entertain’d by none 
 But cowards, base and abject spirits, strangers 
 To moral honesty, and never yet 
 Acquainted with religion.— Massinger. 
 
 3001. REVENGE: recoils. 
 
 How rash, how inconsiderate is rage ! 
 
 How wretched, oh ! how fatal is our error, 
 When to revenge precipitate we run ! 
 
 Revenge, that still with double force recoils 
 Back on itself, and is its own revenge ! 
 
 While to the short-lived momentary joy 
 Succeeds a train of woes, an age of torments. 
 
 Frowde. 
 
 Revenge, at first, though sweet, 
 Bitter ere long, back on itself recoils.— I\Iilton. 
 
 3002. REVENGE. Right of 
 
 Speak not of vengeance ! ’tis the right of God. 
 
 ‘ Vengeance is 11 is.’ Who will usurp the bolt 
 And launch it for Omnipotence ? Shall man 
 Assume the right of judgment, or prescribe 
 
 How far the line of mercy shall extend, 
 
 Or punishment shall stretch its iron rod ? 
 
 In thine own cause to judge, who gave thee right. 
 Presumptuous man ?— Layard. 
 
 3003. REVENGE : scorned by the wise. 
 
 A noble heart doth teach a virtuous scorn : 
 
 To scorn to owe a duty overlong ; 
 
 To scorn to be for benefits forborne ; 
 
 To scorn to lie, to scorn to do a wrong; 
 
 To scorn to bear an injury in mind; 
 
 To scorn a free-born heart slave-like to bind. 
 
 But if for wrongs we needs revenge must have. 
 Then be our vengeance of the noblest kind ; 
 
 Do we his body from our fury save, 
 
 And let our hate prevail against our mind ? 
 What can ’gainst him a greater vengeance be, 
 Than make his foe more worthy far than he ? 
 
 Lady Elizabeth Car civ. 
 
 Revenge impatient Hubert proudly sought ; 
 
 Revenge, which, ev’n when just, the wise deride: 
 For on past wrongs we spend our time and thought. 
 Which scarce against the future can provide. 
 
 Davenant . 
 
 3004. RICHES: 
 
 If thou art rich, thou’rt poor ; 
 
 ^For like an ass, whose back’s with ingots bound. 
 Thou bears’t thy heavy riches but a journey, 
 
 And death unloadeth thee.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Abundance is a blessing to the wise ; 
 
 The use of riches in discretion lies : 
 
 Learn this, ye men of wealth,—a heavy purse 
 In a fool’s pocket is a heavy curse.— Ctimberland. 
 
 3005. RICHES. True 
 
 Go, buy thee new lands, and enlarge thy estate, 
 
 And unite thy proud name with the wealthy and 
 great; 
 
 But if thou shalt fail of a treasure in heaven, 
 
 All thy wealth to the winds shall be rapidly given. 
 
 Go, enter the mart where the merchantmen meet; 
 Get rich, and retire to some rural retreat: 
 
 Ere happiness comes, comes the season to die ; 
 Quickly then will thy riches all vanish and fly. 
 
 Go, sit with the mighty in purple and gold ; 
 
 Thy mansions be stately, thy treasures untold : 
 
 But soon shalt thou dwell in the damp house of clay. 
 While thy riches make wings to themselves, and 
 away. 
 
RIDICULE 
 
 580 
 
 ROCK OF AGES 
 
 Oh, give me the flowers that droop not nor die! 
 
 A treasure up yonder !—a home in the sky ! 
 
 Where beautiful things in their beauty still stay, 
 
 And where riches ne’er fly from the blessed away. 
 
 Hunter. 
 
 3006. RIDICULE. Answer to 
 
 Ridicule is a weak weapon when levell’d at a 
 strong mind ; 
 
 But common men are cowards, and dread an empty 
 laugh. 
 
 Fear a nettle, and touch it tenderly—its poison shall 
 burn thee to the shoulder ; 
 
 But grasp it with a bold hand—is it not a bundle of 
 myrrh ? 
 
 Betray mean terror of ridicule, thou slialt find fools 
 enough to mock thee ; 
 
 But answer thou their laughter with contempt, and 
 the scoffers will lick thy feet.— Tapper. 
 
 3007. RIDICULE. Turpose of 
 
 Where’er the power of ridicule displays 
 Her quaint-eyed visage, some incongruous form. 
 Some stubborn dissonance of things combined. 
 Strikes on the quick observer : whether pomp. 
 
 Or praise, or beauty, mix their partial claim, 
 Where sordid fashions, where ignoble deeds. 
 Where foul deformity, are wont to dwell; 
 
 Or whether these, with violation loathed, 
 
 Invade resplendent pomp’s imperious mien. 
 
 The charms of beauty, or the boast of praise. 
 
 Ask we for what fair end the Almighty Sire 
 In mortal bosoms wakes this gay contempt, 
 
 These grateful stings of laughter, from disgust 
 Educing pleasure ? Wherefore, but to aid 
 The tardy steps of reason, and at once 
 By this prompt impulse urge us to depress 
 The giddy aims of folly ?— Akenside . 
 
 300S. RIGHT. Doing 
 
 Go boldly on. Do what is right; 
 
 Ask not for private ease or good ; 
 
 Let one bright star direct thy sight. 
 
 The polar star of rectitude. 
 
 Go boldly on. And though the road 
 Thy weary, bleeding feet shall rend, 
 
 Angels shall help thee bear thy load, 
 
 And God Himself thy steps attend. 
 
 Do right. And thou hast nought to fear ; 
 
 Right hath a power that makes thee strong : 
 The night is dark, but light is near ; 
 
 The grief is short, the joy is long. 
 
 Know, in thy dark and troubled day, 
 
 To friends of truth and right are given, 
 
 When strifes and toils have pass’d away, 
 
 The sweet rewards and joys of heaven. 
 
 Upham. 
 
 3009. RIGHT. Vindication of 
 
 Not to the swift nor to the strong 
 The battles of the right belong ; 
 
 For he who strikes for freedom wears 
 The armour of the captive’s prayers. 
 
 And Nature proffers to his cause 
 The strength of her eternal laws. 
 
 While he whose arm essays to bind 
 And herd with common brutes his kind, 
 Strives evermore at fearful odds 
 With Nature and the jealous gods, 
 
 And dares the dread recoil which late 
 Or soon their right shall vindicate.— Whittier . 
 
 3010. RIVERS. 
 
 Tile river Thames that by our door doth pass, 
 
 His first beginning is but small and shallow; 
 
 Yet, keeping on his course, grows to a sea. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Oh could I flow like thee, and make thy stream 
 My great example, as thou art my theme ! 
 
 Though deep, yet clear ; though gentle, yet not dull; 
 Strong, without rage; without o’erflowing, full. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 And see the rivers, how they run 
 
 Through woods and meads, in shade and sun; 
 
 Sometimes swift, sometimes slow, 
 
 Wave succeeding wave, they go 
 A various journey to the deep, 
 
 Like human life to endless sleep !— Dyer. 
 
 3011. ‘ROCK OF AGES.’ 
 
 ‘ Rock of Ages, cleft for me,’ 
 
 Thoughtlessly the maiden sung ; 
 
 Fell the words unconsciously 
 From her girlish tongue ; 
 
 Sang as little children sing ; 
 
 Sang as sings the birds of June ; 
 
 Fell the words like light leaves down 
 On the current of the tune— 
 
 ‘ Rock of Ages, cleft for me, 
 
 Let me hide myself in Thee.’ 
 
 ‘Let me hide myself in Thee.’ 
 
 Felt her soul no need to hide ; 
 
 Sweet the song as song could be— 
 
 And she had no thought beside ; 
 
ROCK OF AGES 
 
 581 
 
 RUMOUR 
 
 All the words unheedingly 
 
 Fell from lips untouch’d by care, 
 Dreaming not that they might be 
 On some other lips a prayer— 
 
 1 Rock of Ages, cleft for me, 
 
 Let me hide myself in Thee. ’ 
 
 4 Rock of Ages, cleft for me ’— 
 
 ’Twas a woman sung them now, 
 
 Sung them slow and wearily— 
 
 Wan hand on her aching brow. 
 
 Rose the song as storm-toss’d bird 
 Beats with weary wing the air, 
 
 Every note with sorrow stirr’d— 
 
 Every syllable a prayer— 
 
 4 Rock of Ages, cleft for me, 
 
 Let me hide myself in Thee.’ 
 
 4 Rock of Ages, cleft for me ’— 
 
 Lips grown aged sang the hymn 
 Trustingly and tenderly— 
 
 Voice grown weak and eyes grown dim— 
 4 Let me hide myself in Thee.’ 
 
 Trembling through the voice and low, 
 Ran the sweet strain peacefully, 
 
 Like a river in its flow. 
 
 Sung as only they can sing 
 
 Who life’s thorny paths have press’d ; 
 Sung as only they can sing 
 
 Who behold the promised rest— 
 
 4 Rock of Ages, cleft for me, 
 
 Let me hide myself in Thee.’ 
 
 4 Rock of Ages, cleft for me, ’ 
 
 Sung above a coffin lid ; 
 
 Underneath, all restfully, 
 
 All life’s joys and sorrows hid, 
 
 Never more, O storm-toss’d soul! 
 
 Never more from wind or tide, 
 
 Never more from billows’ roll, 
 
 Wilt thou need to hide. 
 
 Could the sightless, sunken eyes, 
 
 Closed beneath the soft grey hair; 
 
 Could the mute and stiffen’d lips 
 Move again in pleading prayer, 
 
 Still, ay, still the words would be, 
 
 ‘ Let me hide myself in Thee.’ 
 
 3012. ROCK OF AGES. The 
 
 The sea is flashing its silver light, 
 
 And fiercely its surface gleams ; 
 
 There is not a cloud in the wide blue sky 
 To temper its burning beams. 
 
 But cool in the shadow the great Rock throws 
 I sit through the scorching day, 
 
 While the white rocks glitter, and ships go by, 
 And the glad waves tireless play. 
 
 And I think of One who has thrown for me, 
 
 In the midst of a w r eary land, 
 
 A great Rock’s shadow where I might rest, 
 Though the sun was on every hand ; 
 
 Where life’s hot fever could touch me not, 
 
 But happy, and safe, and calm, 
 
 Through the smiting heat I could sit and sing 
 The "words of a thankful psalm. 
 
 The sea was angry and rough one day, 
 
 And its waves like mountains rose ; 
 
 And the restless waters heaved and rush’d, 
 
 Nor an instant had repose. 
 
 I saw the wreck of a ship that sank, 
 
 Beaten in stormy strife, 
 
 But I was safe on the mighty Rock, 
 
 Living a tranquil life. 
 
 So the Rock of Ages has been to me 
 A refuge and safe retreat, 
 
 A hiding-place from the storms of life, 
 
 As well as from life’s fierce heat; 
 
 Waves have beaten and tempests howl’d, 
 
 But happy and safe are they 
 Who are hidden away in the great Rock’s cleft 
 In the dangerous stormy day. 
 
 The winds were armies of conquering foes 
 Smiting the trembling trees, 
 
 And over the hills in their might they came 
 Lashing the foaming seas. 
 
 But I clung to the Rock till the wild hour pass’d. 
 For nothing could harm me there ; 
 
 The rocks are firm in the tempest times, 
 
 As well as in balmy air. 
 
 And I said, I will cling to my Rock of strength. 
 Whatever the day may be. 
 
 I am safe, and happy, and calm, and free, 
 
 For no danger can reach to me. 
 
 And oh, that the joy may be one day. 
 
 From the might of the creeping waves, 
 
 To lift some helpless and drowning ones 
 To the height of the Rock that saves. 
 
 Mariannc Farningham . 
 
 3013. RUMOUR. 
 
 Rumour is a pipe 
 
 Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures, 
 And of so easy and so plain a stop, 
 
 That the blunt monster with uncounted heads. 
 The still discordant wavering multitude, 
 
 Can play upon it.— Shakespeare. 
 
 The flying rumours gather’d as they roll’d ; 
 Scarce any tale was sooner heard than told, 
 
SABBATH 
 
 582 
 
 SABBATH 
 
 And all who told it added something new, 
 
 And all who heard it made enlargement too ; 
 
 In every ear it spread, on every tongue it grew. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 3014. SABBATH. Figures of the 
 
 Types of eternal rest, fair buds of bliss. 
 
 In heavenly flowers unfolding week by week ; 
 
 The next world’s gladness imaged forth in this; 
 Days of whose worth the Christian’s heart can 
 speak ! 
 
 Eternity on time, the steps by which 
 
 We climb to future ages, lamps that light 
 Man through his darker days, and thought enrich, 
 Yielding redemption for a week’s dull flight. 
 
 Wakeners of prayers in man, his resting bowers 
 As on he journeys in the narrow way, 
 
 Where, Eden-like, Jehovah’s walking hours 
 Are waited for as in the cool of day. 
 
 Days fix’d by God for intercourse with dust, 
 
 To raise our thoughts and purify our powers; 
 Periods appointed to renew our trust; 
 
 A gleam of glory after six days’ showers ! 
 
 A milky-way mark’d out through skies else drear. 
 
 By radiant suns that warm as well as shine; 
 
 A clew, which he who follows knows no fear, 
 
 Though briers and thorns around his pathway 
 twine. 
 
 Foretastes of heaven on earth ; pledges of joy 
 Surpassing fancy’s flights and fiction’s story ; 
 
 The preludes of a feast that cannot cloy, 
 
 And the bright out-courts of immortal glory ! 
 
 Barton. 
 
 3015. SABBATH. Import of the 
 
 Hail to the day, which He, who made the heaven, 
 Earth, and their armies, sanctified and blest. 
 Perpetual memory of the Maker’s rest! 
 
 Hail to the day, when He, by whom was given 
 New life to man, the tomb asunder riven, 
 
 Arose! That day His Church doth still confess, 
 At once Creation’s and Redemption’s feast. 
 
 Sign of a world call’d forth, a world forgiven. 
 Welcome that day, the day of holy peace, 
 
 The Lord’s own day ! to man’s Creator owed. 
 
 And man’s Redeemer ; for the soul’s increase 
 In sanctity, and sweet repose bestow’d ; 
 
 Type of the rest when sin and care shall cease. 
 
 The rest remaining for the loved of God !— Plant. 
 
 3016. SABBATH : its preciousness to the poor. 
 
 Hail, Holy Day ! the blessing from above 
 Brightens thy presence like a smile of love, 
 
 Smoothing, like oil upon a stormy sea, 
 
 The roughest waves of human destiny— 
 
 Cheering the good, and to the poor oppress’d 
 Bearing the promise of their heavenly rest. 
 
 Mrs Hale. 
 
 But, chiefly, man the day of rest enjoys. 
 
 Hail, Sabbath ! thee I hail, the poor man’s day : 
 
 On other days, the man of toil is doom’d 
 To eat his joyless bread, lonely, the ground 
 Both seat and board—screen’d from the winter’s cold. ; 
 And summer’s heat, by neighbouring hedge or tree - r 
 But on this day, embosom’d in his home, 
 
 He shares the frugal meal with those he loves ; 
 
 With those he loves he shares the heartfelt joy 
 Of giving thanks to God,—not thanks of form, 
 
 A word and a grimace, but reverently, 
 
 With cover’d face and upward earnest eye. 
 
 Hail, Sabbath! thee I hail, the poor man’s day. 
 
 The pale mechanic now has leave to breathe 
 The morning air pure from the city’s smoke, 
 
 As wandering slowly up the river’s bank, 
 
 He meditates on Him whose powers he marks 
 In each green tree that proudly spreads the bough,. 
 And in the tiny dew-bent flowers that bloom 
 Around the roots : and while he thus surveys 
 With elevated joy each rural charm, 
 
 Fie hopes, (yet fears presumption in the hope,) 
 
 That heaven may be one sabbath without end. 
 
 Grahame . 
 
 3017. SABBATH : its preciousness to the poor- 
 
 The merry birds are singing. 
 
 And from the fragrant sod ’ 
 
 The spirits of a thousand flowers 
 Go sweetly up to God : 
 
 While in His holy temple 
 We meet to praise and pray 
 With cheerful voice and grateful heart. 
 
 This summer Sabbath-day ! 
 
 We thank Thee, Lord, for one day 
 To look Heaven in the face ; 
 
 The poor have only Sunday ; 
 
 The sweeter is the grace. 
 
 ’Tis then they make the music 
 That sings their week away. 
 
 Oh, there’s a sweetness infinite 
 In the poor man’s Sabbath-day ! 
 
 ’Tis as a burst of sunshine, 
 
 A tender fall of rain, 
 
 That sets the barest life a-bloom ; 
 
 Makes old hearts young again. 
 
 The dry and dusty roadside 
 With smiling flowers is gay ; 
 
 ’Tis open heaven one day in seven. 
 
 The poor man’s Sabbath-day ! 
 
SABBATH 
 
 583 
 
 SABBATH 
 
 ’Tis here the weary pilgrim 
 Doth reach his house of ease ; 
 
 That blessed house, called ‘ Beautiful/ 
 
 And that soft chamber, ‘ Peace. ’ 
 
 The river of life runs through his dream, 
 
 And the leaves of heaven are at play; 
 
 He sees the golden city gleam, 
 
 This shining Sabbath-day ! 
 
 Take heart, ye faint and fearful, 
 
 Your cross with courage bear; 
 
 So many a face now tearful 
 Shall shine in glory there ; 
 
 Where all the sorrow is banish’d, 
 
 The tears are wiped away ; 
 
 And all eternity shall be 
 An endless Sabbath-day ! 
 
 Ah ! there are empty places, 
 
 Since last we mingled here ! 
 
 There will be missing faces 
 When we meet another year ! 
 
 But, heart to heart, before we part. 
 
 Now all together pray 
 
 That we may meet in heaven, to spend 
 The eternal Sabbath-day! 
 
 3018. SABBATH. Observance of the 
 
 Now let us repose from our care and our sorrow. 
 
 Let all that is anxious and sad pass away; 
 
 The rough cares of life lay aside till to-morrow, 
 
 And let us be tranquil and happy to-day. 
 
 Let us say to the world, should it tempt us to wander, 
 As Abraham said to his men on the plain— 
 
 There’s the (mountain of prayer, I am going up 
 yonder, 
 
 And tarry you here till I seek you again. 
 
 To-day on that mount we would seek for Thy bless¬ 
 ing ; 
 
 O Spirit of Holiness, meet with us there ; 
 
 Our hearts then will feel, thine influence possessing, 
 The sweetness of praise and the fervour of prayer. 
 
 Edmeston . 
 
 3019. SABBATH : on the sea. 
 
 Oh ! welcome to the wearied Earth 
 The Sabbath resting comes, 
 
 Gathering the sons of toil and care 
 Back to their peaceful homes ; 
 
 And, like a portal to the skies, 
 
 Opens the House of God, 
 
 Where all who seek may come and learn 
 The way the Saviour trod. 
 
 But holier to the wanderer seems 
 The Sabbath on the deep, 
 
 When on and on, in ceaseless course. 
 
 The toiling bark must keep, 
 
 And not a trace of man appears 
 Amid the wilderness 
 Of waters—then it comes like dove 
 Direct from heaven to bless .—Mrs Hale. 
 
 3020. SABBATH. Rest of the 
 
 Fresh glides the brook and blows the gale. 
 
 Yet yonder halts the quiet mill ! 
 
 The whirring wheel, the rushing sail. 
 
 How motionless and still ! 
 
 Six days of toil, poor child of Cain, 
 
 Thy strength the slave of Want may be ; 
 
 The seventh thy limbs escape the chain— 
 
 A God hath made thee free! 
 
 9 
 
 Ah, tender was the Law that gave 
 This holy respite to the breast, 
 
 To breathe the gale, to watch the wave. 
 
 And know—the wheel may rest ! 
 
 But where the waves the gentlest glide 
 What image charms, to lift thine eyes? 
 
 The spire reflected on the tide 
 Invites thee to the skies. 
 
 To teach the soul its nobler worth 
 This rest from mortal toil is given; 
 
 Go, snatch the brief reprieve from earth. 
 
 And pass—a guest to heaven. 
 
 Six days may Rank divide the poor, 
 
 O Dives, from thy banquet-hall; 
 
 The seventh the Father opes the door, 
 
 And holds His feast for all !—Bulwer Lytton. 
 
 3021. SABBATH. Stillness of the 
 
 With silent awe I hail the sacred morn, 
 
 That scarcely wakes while all the fields are still; 
 A soothing calm on every breeze is borne, 
 
 A graver murmur echoes from the hill, 
 
 And softer sings the linnet from the thorn, 
 
 The skylark warbles in a tone less shrill. 
 
 Hail, light serene ! hail, sacred Sabbath morn ! 
 
 The sky a placid yellow lustre throws ; 
 
 The gales that lately sigh’d along the grove 
 
 Have hush’d their drowsy wings in dead repose. 
 
 How still the morning of the hallow’d day ! 
 
 Mute is the voice of rural labour, hush’d 
 The ploughboy’s whistle and the milkmaid’s song. 
 The scythe lies glittering in the dewy wreath 
 Of tedded grass, mingled with fading flowers, 
 
 That yestermorn bloom’d waving in the breeze : 
 
 The faintest sounds attract the ear,—the hum 
 Of early bee, the trickling of the dew, 
 
 The distant bleating, midway up the hill. 
 
SABBATHS 
 
 534 
 
 SAINT 
 
 Calmness seems throned on yon unmoving hill. 
 
 To him who wanders o’er the upland leas, 
 
 The blackbird’s note comes mellow from the dale, 
 And sweeter from the sky the gladsome lark 
 Warbles his heaven-tuned song ; the lulling brook 
 Murmurs more gently down the deep-sunk glen ; 
 While from yon lowly roof, whose curling smoke 
 O’ermounts the mist, is heard, at intervals, 
 
 The voice of psalms, the simple song of praise. 
 
 With dove-like wings Peace o’er yon village broods : 
 The dizzing mill-wheel rests ; the anvil’s din 
 Has ceased :—all, all around is quietness. 
 
 Grahame. 
 
 3022. SABBATHS. Threefold 
 
 Sabbaths are threefold, as St Austin says : 
 
 The first of time, or sabbath here of days ; 
 
 The second is a conscience trespass-free ; 
 
 The last the sabbath of eternity.— Herrick. 
 
 3023. SABBATH-BELLS. 
 
 The cheerful Sabbath-bells, wherever heard, 
 Strike pleasant on the sense, most like the voice 
 Of one who from the far-off hills proclaims 
 Tidings of good to Zion. — Charles Lamb. 
 
 The Sabbath-bell, 
 
 That over wood, and wild, and mountain-dell 
 Wanders so far, chasing all thoughts unholy 
 With sounds most musical, most melancholy. 
 
 Rogers. 
 
 3024. SACRILICE. Glory of 
 
 The highest glory is not where, 
 
 ’Mid crimson clouds, the fight is won; 
 
 ’Tis to reclaim the erring son, 
 
 Long used the sinful yoke to bear. 
 
 Better to clothe with corn the wild 
 Than track the fire-path of a star ; 
 
 Less the proud sons of science are 
 Than clown who saves a drowning child. 
 
 Through death the world is raised above 
 Its alien curse and kindred dust ; 
 
 We on the cross read, ‘ God is just,’ 
 
 But in the offering, ‘ God is love.’ 
 
 The wheaten corn which falls and dies. 
 
 In autumn’s plenty richly waves ; 
 
 So, from the loathsome place of graves, 
 
 With Ghrist, our elder, we may rise. 
 
 From death comes life. The hand of God 
 This direst curse to good transforms ; 
 
 So purest air is born of storms ; 
 
 So bursts the harvest from the clod. 
 
 The highest benedictions hide 
 Where sacrifice is pure and true ; 
 
 And our poor self-denials, too, 
 
 If done for Christ, in Him abide.— Punshon. 
 
 3025. SAFETY. 
 
 Place me on some desert shore 
 Foot of man ne’er wander’d o’er ; 
 
 Lock me in a lonely cell 
 Beneath some prison citadel; 
 
 Still, here or there, within I find 
 My quiet kingdom of the mind ; 
 
 Nay, ’mid the tempest fierce and dark. 
 
 Float me in peril’s frailest barque, 
 
 My quenchless soul could sit and think, 
 
 And smile at danger’s dizziest brink ; 
 
 And wherefore ? God, my God, is still 
 King of kings in good and ill ; 
 
 And where he dwelleth—everywhere— 
 Safety supreme and peace are there; 
 
 And where He reigneth—all around— 
 Wisdom, and love, and power are found; 
 And, reconciled to Him and bliss, 
 
 * My mind to me a kingdom is.’— Tapper . 
 
 3026. SAILOR. The Christian 
 
 Launch thy bark, mariner ! Christian, Heaven speed 
 thee! 
 
 Let loose the rudderbands ! good angels lead thee ! 
 Set thy sails warily, tempests will come: 
 
 Steer thy course steadily ! Christian, steer home ! 
 
 Look to the weather-bow, breakers are round thee! 
 Let fall the plummet now, shallows may ground thee ! 
 Reef in the fore-sail there ! hold the helm fast! 
 
 So let the vessel wear and ’scape the blast. 
 
 What of the night, watchman ? what of the night ? 
 
 ‘ Cloudy—all quiet—no land yet—all’s right.’ 
 
 Be wakeful, be vigilant, danger may be 
 At an hour w r hen all seems securest to thee. 
 
 How—gains the leak so fast ? clear out the hold ! 
 Hoist up the merchandise—heave out the gold ! 
 There—let the ingots go ! now the ship rights ; 
 Hurrah ! the harbour’s near—lo, the red lights ! 
 
 Slacken not sail yet at inlet or island, 
 
 Straight for the beacon steer—straight for the high¬ 
 land ; 
 
 Crowd all thy canvas on, cut through the foam, 
 Christian ! cast anchor now: Heaven is thy home!— 
 
 C. Southey. 
 
 3027. SAINT : a name of honour. 
 
 A Saint ! Oh, would that I could claim 
 The privileged, the honour’d name, 
 
SAINTS 
 
 585 
 
 SAINTS 
 
 And confidently take my stand, 
 
 Though lowest, in the saintly band. 
 
 Would, though it were in scorn applied, 
 
 That term the test of truth could bide ! 
 
 Like kingly salutation given 
 In mockery to the King of Heaven. 
 
 A saint! and what imports the name 
 Thus banded in derision’s game ? 
 
 4 Holy and separate from sin ; 
 
 To good, nay, even to God akin.’ 
 
 How shall the name of saint be prized, 
 
 Though now neglected and despised, 
 
 And sinners to their doom be hurl’d, 
 
 When scorned saints shall ‘judge the world.’ 
 
 Marriott. 
 
 3028. SAINTS. Communion of 
 
 From saint to saint the world around 
 Celestial odours are diffused ; 
 
 Sweet thoughts are born on hallow’d ground, 
 Where holy men have mused. 
 
 And none can tell how many springs 
 Flow to sustain one soul serene ; 
 
 But every hour some tribute brings 
 From sources quiet and unseen. 
 
 The loneliest pilgrim in the ways 
 Is never in his prayers alone ; 
 
 But every one for thousands prays, 
 
 And thousands pray for every one. 
 
 We dwell with shadows round us here, 
 
 And nought is bright but heaven above : 
 When all our secret friends appear, 
 
 How many shall we know and love ! 
 
 Yet, as we learn the mystery, 
 
 Around One holy fount we fall, 
 
 And, in the light eternal, see 
 That God is all in all.— Gostick. 
 
 3029. SAINTS. Our 
 
 Tis not alone from legend and old story, 
 
 ’Tis not alone from canvas, dark with time, 
 
 That holy saints, crown’d with celestial glory, 
 
 Smile down upon us, from their height sublime. 
 
 Not only from church windows, colour’d brightly, 
 Do their bless’d shadows fall across our way ; 
 
 Ah, not alone in niches gleaming whitely, 
 
 With folded hands, do they stand night and day. 
 
 Who is there in this world who has not, hidden 
 Deep in his heart, a picture, clear or faint, 
 
 Veil’d, sacred, to the outer world forbidden, 
 
 O’er which he bends and murmurs low, ‘ My saint 
 
 A face, perhaps, all written o’er with sorrow, 
 
 Whose faded eyes are dim with unshed tears; 
 
 And yet, they hopefully look toward the morrow. 
 
 And far beyond it, into brighter spheres. 
 
 A face whence all the sunshine of the morning 
 And brightness of the noon have pass’d away; 
 
 And yet, where clearly, surely, there is dawning 
 The wondrous radiance of that perfect day. 
 
 That perfect day — when, crown’d with heaven’s 
 brightness, 
 
 Without a pain, or care, or mortal need, 
 
 With conqueror’s palm, in robe of snowy whiteness. 
 Our bless’d shall stand, as very saints indeed. 
 
 Yes, God be thank’d! though the pure saints of 
 story, 
 
 And holy martyrs that the artist paints, 
 
 Are veil’d in radiance and crown’d with glory, 
 
 There still are halos for these unknown saints. 
 
 A. A\ M. 
 
 5030. SAINTS. 
 
 Our 
 
 I see them with their heavenward eyes, 
 Men who in Christ abide ; 
 
 The long train ceases not to rise 
 Though time’s unceasing tide, 
 
 And a grave across each pathway lies. 
 
 But the path swerves not aside. 
 
 Like a chorus which no discords mar. 
 Sober and clear and grand, 
 
 Like a scroll upreaching to a star. 
 
 Caught by an angel’s hand, 
 
 Like a wind beginning from afar, 
 
 And covering all the land, 
 
 They sound, they pass ; each man beholds 
 The Master’s risen face, 
 
 Each arm some near beloved enfolds, 
 
 Yet keeps its forward place ; 
 
 The weak one leans, the strong upholds. 
 But all are in the race. 
 
 Up, through the darkness and the pain. 
 Up, through the joy and light. 
 
 Earth’s myriad hands are raised in vain 
 To baffle or invite, 
 
 Life shows them nothing to detain, 
 
 Death, nothing to affright. 
 
 By all things fair their course is graced. 
 By all things bitter, heal’d ; 
 
 Gathering like servants sent in haste 
 „_Who, being challenged, yield, 
 
 And through the garden or the waste, 
 'Guide to God’s happy field. 
 
SA1 NT SHIP 
 
 586 
 
 SATAN 
 
 Come to this erring soul of mine 
 And make that power known. 
 
 Lord, save me from myself— 
 
 This evil heart within ; 
 
 Lord, save me from myself, for thus 
 I shall be saved from sin. 
 
 It is the foes within 
 
 That make the fortress -weak ; 
 Myself my greatest enemy, 
 
 For self-control I seek. 
 
 To them each human loss is gain, 
 Withdrawn or sacrificed; 
 
 Nothing but sin was all in vain, 
 
 And that, which long enticed, 
 
 Falls from each soul and leaves no stain 
 At the first smile of Christ. 
 
 The flock of God goes up and on, 
 
 And if, as sin departs, 
 
 Some faces from the throng are gene. 
 Leaving some broken hearts, 
 
 God, full of pity for His own. 
 
 Dries every tear that starts. 
 
 The flock of God is strong and swift. 
 
 And it devours the way, 
 
 Longing to see the curtain lift 
 From the everlasting day ; 
 
 How slight the toil, how vast the gift,' 
 How weary the delay ! 
 
 Lord, gather us beneath their feet, 
 
 As Thy good will shall be ! 
 
 The service of Thy saints is sweet 
 When they are serving Thee ; 
 
 Souls for inheritance unmeet 
 May serve eternally.— M. B. Smedley. 
 
 3031. SAINTSHIP. Reward of 
 
 To heaven approach’d a Sufi Saint, 
 
 From groping in the darkness late. 
 
 And, tapping timidly and faint, 
 
 Besought admission at God’s gate. 
 
 Said God, ‘ Who seeks to enter here ? ’ 
 
 * ’Tis I, dear Friend,’ the Saint replied. 
 
 And trembling much with hope and fear. 
 
 ‘ If it be thou, without abide. ’ 
 
 Sadly to earth the poor Saint turn’d, 
 
 To bear the scourging of life’s rods ; 
 
 But aye his heart within him yearn’d 
 To mix and lose its love in God’s. 
 
 He roam’d alone through weary years. 
 
 By cruel men still scorn’d and mock’d. 
 
 Until from faith’s pure fires and tears 
 Again he rose, and modest knock’d. 
 
 Ask’d God, ‘ Who now is at the door ? * 
 
 ‘It is Thyself, beloved Lord,’ 
 
 Answer’d the Saint, in doubt no more. 
 
 But clasp’d and rapt in his reward. 
 
 Persian, tr. by IV. P. Alger. 
 
 3032. SALVATION : from sin and self. 
 
 Lord, save me from my sin, 
 
 Thine is the work alone ; 
 
 Oh let Thy precious blood, 
 
 The healing, cleansing stream. 
 
 Not from the doom of sin, alone, 
 
 But from its pov r er, redeem. 
 
 I v r ould be Thine alone, 
 
 I yearn to live to Thee ; 
 
 Then grant me, in Thy grace, dear Lord, 
 The long’d-for liberty.— Offord. 
 
 3033. SALVATION. The Only 
 
 When wounded sore the stricken soul 
 Lies bleeding and unbound. 
 
 One only hand, a. pierced hand. 
 
 Can salve the sinner’s wound. 
 
 When sorrow sv 7 ells the laden breast, 
 
 And tears of anguish flow, 
 
 One only heart, a broken heart. 
 
 Can feel the sinner’s woe. 
 
 When penitence has wept in vain 
 Over some foul dark spot, 
 
 One only stream, a stream of blood, 
 
 Can wash away the blot. 
 
 ’Tis Jesus’ blood that washes white, 
 
 His hand that brings relief, 
 
 His heart that’s touch’d with all our joys. 
 And feeleth for our grief. 
 
 Lift up Thy bleeding hand, O Lord ; 
 
 Unseal that cleansing tide ; 
 
 We have no shelter from our sin 
 But in Thy w r ounded side. 
 
 Cecil Frances Alexander. 
 
 3034. SATAN. Snares of 
 
 Satan is busy in planting 
 Snares in thy substance; snares attend thy want; 
 Snares in thy discredit; snares in thy disgrace; 
 Snares in thy high estate; snares in thy base ; 
 Snares in thy quiet; snares in thy commotion ; 
 Snares in thy diet; snares in thy devotion; 
 
SATIETY 
 
 587 
 
 SA TIRE 
 
 Snares above thy head, and snares beneath ; 
 
 Snares in thy sickness ; snares in thy death. 
 
 Quarles. 
 
 3035. SATIETY. Byron’s 
 
 Great man! the nations gazed, and wonder’d 
 much, 
 
 And praised : and many call’d his evil good. 
 
 Wits wrote in favour of his wickedness ; 
 
 And kings to do him honour took delight. 
 
 Thus full of titles, flattery, honour, fame ; 
 
 Beyond desire, beyond ambition full, 
 
 He died. He died of what? Of wretchedness. 
 Drank every cup of joy, heard every trump 
 Of fame; drank early, deeply drank; drank 
 draughts 
 
 That common millions might have quench’d, then 
 died 
 
 Of thirst, because there was no more to drink. 
 
 His goddess, Nature, woo’d, embraced, enjoy’d, 
 
 Fell from his arms, abhorr’d ; his passions died ; 
 Died all but dreaiy solitary pride ; 
 
 And all his sympathies in being died. 
 
 As some ill-guided bark, well built and tall. 
 
 Which angry tides cast out on desert shore, 
 
 And then retiring, left it there to rot 
 
 And moulder in the winds and rains of heaven : 
 
 So he, cut from the sympathies of life, 
 
 And cast ashore from pleasure’s boisterous surge— 
 A wandering, weary, worn, and wretched thing ; 
 Scorched, and desolate, and blasted soul; 
 
 A gloomy wilderness of dying thought— 
 
 Repined, and groan’d, and wither’d from the earth. 
 
 Pollok. 
 
 3036. SATIETY. Emblem of 
 
 There is a bird who, by his coat. 
 
 And by the hoarseness of his note. 
 
 Might be supposed a crow ; 
 
 A great frequenter of the church, 
 
 Where, bishop-like, he finds a perch, 
 
 And dormitory too. 
 
 You think, no doubt, he sits and muses 
 On future broken bones and bruises, 
 
 If he should chance to fall. 
 
 No : not a single thought like that 
 Employs his philosophic pate, 
 
 Or troubles it at all. 
 
 He sees that this great roundabout. 
 
 The world, with all its motley rout. 
 
 Church, army, physic, law, 
 
 Its customs and its businesses, 
 
 Is no concern at all of his, 
 
 And says—what says he ?—Caw. 
 
 Thrice-happy bird ! I too have seen 
 Much of the vanities of men ; 
 
 And sick of having seen ’em, 
 
 Would cheerfully these limbs resign 
 For such a pair of wings as thine, 
 
 And such a head between ’em. 
 
 Vincent Bourne , tr. by Coivpcr. 
 
 3037. SATIETY: the penalty of surfeiting. 
 
 They surfeited with honey ; and began 
 To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof little 
 More than a little is by much too much. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 The best conserve of roses, when one is fully fed, 
 
 Is tasteless, tame, and worthless—no better than dry 
 bread; 
 
 But after days of fasting, kept up as faith imposes, 
 The dryest bread becomes sweet as conserve of roses. 
 
 From the Persian of Saadi. 
 
 3038. SATIRE. 
 
 Poets alone found the delightful way 
 Mysterious morals gently to convey 
 In charming numbers ; so that as men grew 
 Pleased with their poems, they grew wiser too. 
 Satire has always shone among the rest, 
 
 And is the boldest way, if not the best, 
 
 To tell men freely of their foulest faults, 
 
 To laugh at their vain deeds and vainer thoughts. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 Frontless and satire-proof he scours the streets, 
 And runs an Indian muck at all he meets. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 The labouring bee, when his sharp sting is gone, 
 Forgets his golden work, and turns a drone ; 
 
 Such is a satire when you take away 
 
 The rage in which his noble vigour lay.— Dryden. 
 
 When Satire flies abroad on falsehood’s wing, 
 Short is her life, and impotent her sting : 
 
 But when to truth allied, the wound she gives 
 Sinks deep, and to remotest ages lives. 
 
 Churchill. 
 
 The man whose hardy spirit shall engage 
 To lash the vices of a guilty age, 
 
 At his first setting forward ought to know 
 That every rogue he meets must be his foe ; 
 
 That the rude breath of satire will provoke 
 Many who feel and more who fear the stroke. 
 
 Churchill. 
 
 Though Folly, robed in purple, shines, 
 
 Though Vice exhausts Peruvian mines, 
 
 Yet shall they tremble and turn pale 
 
 When Satire wields her mighty flail. — Churchill. 
 
SATISFACTION 
 
 588 
 
 SCORN 
 
 You must not think that a satiric style 
 Allows of scandalous and brutish words ; 
 
 The better sort abhor scurrility.— Roscommon. 
 
 If satire charms, strike faults, but spare the man 
 ’Tis dull to be as witty as you can. 
 
 ■Satire recoils whenever charged too high ; 
 
 Round your own fame the fatal splinters fly. 
 
 As the soft plume gives swiftness to the dart, 
 Good breeding sends the satire to the heart. 
 
 Young. 
 
 When knaves and fools combined o’er all prevail, 
 When justice halts, and right begins to fail. 
 
 E’en then the boldest start from public sneers, 
 Afraid of shame—unknown to other fears, 
 
 More darkly sin, by satire kept in awe, 
 
 And shrink from ridicule, though not from law. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 ■Satire should, like a polish’d razor keen, 
 
 Wound with a touch that’s scarcely felt or seen. 
 
 Lady Montague. 
 
 Unless a love of virtue light the flame, 
 
 Satire is, more than those he brands, to blame ! 
 
 He hides behind a magisterial air 
 
 His own offences, and strips others bare ; 
 
 Affects indeed a most humane concern, 
 
 That man, if gently tutor’d, will not learn ; 
 
 That mulish folly, not to be reclaim’d 
 By softer methods, must be made ashamed ; 
 
 But (I might instance in St Patrick’s dean) 
 
 Too often rails to gratify his spleen. 
 
 Most sat’rists are indeed a public scourge; 
 
 Their mildest physic is a farrier’s purge ; 
 
 Their acrid temper turns, as soon as stirr’d, 
 
 The milk of their good purpose all to curd. 
 
 Their zeal begotten, as their works rehearse, 
 
 By lean despair upon an empty purse, 
 
 The wild assassins start into the street, 
 
 Prepared to poniard whomsoe’er they meet. 
 
 No skill in swordmanship, however just, 
 
 Can be secure against a madman’s thrust; 
 
 And even virtue, so unfairly match’d, 
 
 Although immortal, may be prick’d or scratch’d. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 3 ° 39 - SATISFACTION : not to be attained on 
 earth. 
 
 Not here! Not here ! not where the sparkling 
 waters 
 
 Fade into mocking sounds as we draw near ; 
 
 W here in the wilderness each footstep falters— 
 
 I shall be satisfied—but oh, not here ! 
 
 Not here, where every dream of bliss deceives us, 
 Where the worn spirit never gains its goal: 
 
 Where haunted ever by the thoughts that grieve us. 
 Across us floods of bitter memory roll. 
 
 There is a land where every pulse is thrilling 
 \\ ith rapture earth s sojourners may not know, 
 
 Where heaven’s repose the weary heart is stilling, 
 
 And peacefully life’s time-toss’d currents flow. 
 
 Far out of sight, while yet the flesh enfolds us, 
 
 Lies the fair country where our hearts abide, 
 
 And of its bliss is nought more wondrous told us, 
 
 Than these few words : ‘ I shall be satisfied.’ 
 
 1 
 
 Satisfied ! Satisfied ! the spirit’s yearning 
 For sweet companionship with kindred minds, 
 
 The silent love that here meets no returning, 
 
 The inspiration which no language finds— 
 
 Shall they be satisfied ? The soul’s vague longing, 
 
 The aching void which nothing earthly fills ? 
 
 Oh what desires upon my soul are thronging 
 As I look upward to the heavenly hills ! 
 
 Thither my weak and weary steps are tending; 
 
 Saviour and Lord, with Thy frail child abide 1 
 Guide me towards home, where, all my wanderings 
 ending, 
 
 I then shall see Thee, and ‘ be satisfied. ’ 
 
 3040. SCANDAL. 
 
 Vj| 
 
 And there’s a lust in man no charm can tame 
 Of loudly publishing our neighbour’s shame : 
 
 On eagles’ wings immortal scandals fly, 
 
 While virtuous actions are but born and die. 
 
 'Juvenal. 
 
 He that shall rail against his absent friends, 
 
 Or hears them scandalized and not defends ; 
 
 Sports with their fame, and speaks whate’er he can. 
 
 And only to be thought a witty man ; 
 
 Tells tales and brings his friends in disesteem ; 
 
 That man’s a knave; be sure beware of him. 
 
 Creeck. 
 
 Skill’d by a touch to deepen scandal’s tints 
 With all the high mendacity of hints, 
 
 While mingling truth with falsehood, sneers with 
 smiles, 
 
 A thread of candour with a web of wiles.— Byron . 
 
 Assail’d by scandal and the tongue of strife, 
 
 His only answer was a blameless life; 
 
 And he that forged, and he that threw the dart, 
 
 Had each a brother’s interest in his heart.— Ccnopcr. 
 
 3041. SCORN. 
 
 I MAY not scorn the meanest thing 
 That on the earth doth crawl; 
 
SCOTLAND 
 
 589 
 
 SEASONS 
 
 The slave who dares not burst his chain, 
 
 The tyrant in his hall. 
 
 The vile oppressor, who hath made 
 The widow’d mother mourn. 
 
 Though, worthless, he before me stand— 
 
 I cannot, dare not scorn. 
 
 The darkest night that shrouds the sky, 
 
 Of beauty hath a share ; 
 
 The blackest heart hath signs to tell 
 That God still lingers there. 
 
 I pity all that evil are— 
 
 I pity, and I mourn ; 
 
 But the Supreme hath fashion’d all, 
 
 And, oh ! I dare not scorn.— NicoL 
 
 3042. SCOTLAND. 
 
 O Scotia ! my dear, my native soil! 
 
 For whom my warmest wish to Heaven is sent, 
 Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil 
 
 Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content! 
 And oh ! may Heaven their simple lives prevent 
 From luxury’s contagion, weak and vile ! 
 
 Then howe’er crowns and coronets be rent, 
 
 A virtuous populace may rise the while, 
 
 And stand a wall of fire around their much-loved isle. 
 
 Burns. 
 
 O Caledonia ! stern and wild, 
 
 Meet muse for a poetic child ; 
 
 Land of brown heath and shaggy wood, 
 
 Land of the mountain and the flood. 
 
 Land of my sires ! what mortal hand 
 
 Can e’er untie the filial band 
 
 That knits me to thy rugged strand ?— Scott. 
 
 3043. SCRIPTURE. Quoting 
 
 The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose : 
 An evil soul producing holy witness 
 Is like a villain with a smiling cheek. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 3044. SCRIPTURES. Effects of the 
 
 Here is the spring where waters flowe 
 To quench our heate of sinne ; 
 
 Here is the tree where truetli doth grow, 
 
 To lead our lives therein ; 
 
 Here is the Judge that stints the strife, 
 Where men’s devices faille ; 
 
 Here is the bread that feeds the life 
 That death cannot assaile ; 
 
 The tidings of salvation deare 
 Come to our eares from hence ; 
 
 The fortress of our faith is here, 
 
 And shielde of our defence. 
 
 Then be not like the hogge that hath 
 A pearle at his desire, 
 
 And takes more pleasure in the trouth, 
 
 And wallowing in the mire ; 
 
 Reade not this book in any case 
 But with a single eye ; 
 
 Read not but first desire God’s grace 
 To understand thereby ; 
 
 Pray still in faith with this respect, 
 
 To fructifie therein, 
 
 That knowledge may bring this effect, 
 
 To mortify thy sinne. 
 
 Then happie thou in all thy life, 
 
 What so to thee befalles ; 
 
 Yea, double happie shalt thou be 
 When God by death thee calles. 
 
 Barker s Bible , 1594 - 
 
 3045. SCRIPTURES : inspired. 
 
 Thus man by his own strength to heaven would soar* 
 And would not be obliged to God for more : 
 
 Vain, wretched creature ! how art thou misled, 
 
 To think thy wit these godlike notions bred ! 
 
 These truths are not the product of thy mind, 
 
 But dropt from heaven, and of a nobler kind : 
 Reveal’d religion first inform’d thy sight, 
 
 And Reason saw not till Faith sprung the light. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 Or whether more abstractedly we look, 
 
 Or on the writers, or the written Book, 
 
 Whence but from Heaven could men unskill’d in arts* 
 In several ages born, in several parts, 
 
 Weave such agreeing truths ? or how, or why. 
 Should all conspire to cheat us with a lie ? 
 
 Unask’d their pains, ungrateful their advice, 
 
 Starving their gain, and martyrdom their price ! 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 3046. SEASONS. Hymn of the 
 
 These, as they change, Almighty Father, these 
 Are but the varied God. The rolling year 
 Is full of Thee. Forth in the pleasing spring 
 Thy beauty walks, Thy tenderness and love. 
 
 Wide flush the fields ; the softening air is balm 
 Echo the mountains round ; the forest smiles ; 
 
 And every sense and every heart is joy. 
 
 Then comes Thy glory in the summer months, 
 
 With light and heat refulgent. Then Thy sun 
 Shoots full perfection through the swelling year ; 
 And oft Thy voice in dreadful thunder speaks, 
 
 And oft at dawn, deep noon, or falling eve, 
 
 By brooks and groves in hollow-whispering gale: 
 Thy bounty shines in autumn unconfined, 
 
 And spreads a common feast for all that lives. 
 
 In winter awful 1 hou ! with clouds and storms 
 Around Thee thrown, tempest o’er tempest roll 
 
SEASONS 
 
 590 
 
 SECRESY 
 
 Majestic darkness ! On the whirlwind’s wing 
 Riding sublime, Thou bid’st the world adore, 
 
 And humblest nature with Thy northern blast. 
 
 Mysterious round! what skill, what force divine, 
 Deep felt, in these appear! a simple train, 
 
 Yet so delightful mix’d, with such kind art, j 
 Such beauty and beneficence combined ; 
 
 Shade, unperceived, so softening into shade ; 
 
 And all so forming an harmonious whole, 
 
 That, as they still succeed, they ravish still. 
 
 But wandering oft, with brute unconscious gaze, 
 Man marks not Thee, marks not the mighty hand, 
 That, ever busy, wheels the silent spheres ; 
 
 Works in the secret deep ; shoots, steaming, thence 
 The fair profusion that o’erspreads the spring ; 
 ■Flings fiom the sun direct the flaming day ; 
 
 Feeds every creature ; hurls the tempest forth ; 
 
 And, as on earth this grateful change revolves, 
 
 With transport touches all the springs of life. 
 
 Nature, attend ! join, every living soul 
 Beneath the spacious temple of the sky. 
 
 In adoration join ; and, ardent, raise 
 One general song ! To Him, ye vocal gales, 
 
 Bieathe soft, Whose spirit in your freshness breathes: 
 Oh, talk of Him in solitary glooms ! 
 
 Wheie, o er the rock, the scarcely waving pine 
 Fills the brown shade with a religious awe. 
 
 And ye, whose bolder note is heard afar, 
 
 Who shake the astonish’d world, lift high to heaven 
 The impetuous song, and say from whom you rage. 
 Iiis praise, ye brooks, attune, ye trembling rills ; 
 And let me catch it as I muse along. 
 
 Ye headlong torrents, rapid and profound ; 
 
 Ye softer floods, that lead the humid maze 
 Along the vale ; and thou, majestic main, 
 
 A secret world of wonders in thyself, 
 
 c>ound His stupendous praise—Whose greater voice 
 
 Or bids you roar, or bids your roarings fall. 
 
 Soft roll your incense, herbs, and fruits, and flowers, 
 In mingled clouds to Him—whose sun exalts, 
 
 Whose breath perfumes you, and whose pencil paints. 
 Ye forests, bend, ye harvests, wave, to Him; 
 
 Breathe your still song into the reaper’s heart, 
 
 As home he goes beneath the joyous moon. 
 
 Ye that keep watch in heaven, as earth asleep 
 Unconscious lies, effuse your mildest beams, 
 
 Ye constellations, while your angels strike. 
 
 Amid the spangled sky, the silver lyre. 
 
 Great source of day ! best image here below 
 Of thy Creator, ever pouring wide, 
 
 Fiom world to world, the vital ocean round, 
 
 On Nature write with every beam His praise. 
 
 The thunder rolls : be hush’d the prostrate world ; 
 While cloud to cloud returns the solemn hymn. 
 
 Bleat out afresh, ye hills; ye mossy rocks, 
 
 Retain the sound ; the broad responsive low, 
 
 Ye valleys, raise ; for the great Shepherd reigns. 
 And His unsuffering kingdom yet will come. 
 
 Ye woodlands all, awake : a boundless song 
 Burst from the groves ; and when the restless day. 
 Expiring, lays the warbling world asleep, 
 
 Sweetest of birds ! sweet Philomela, charm 
 
 The listening shades, and teach the night His praise. 
 
 \ e Chief, for whom the whole creation smiles. 
 
 At once the head, the heart, and tongue of all, 
 Ciown the great hymn! in swarming cities vast. 
 Assembled men to the deep organ join 
 The long-resounding voice, oft breaking clear. 
 
 At solemn pauses, through the swelling bass ; 
 
 And, as each mingling flame increases each, 
 
 In one united ardour rise to heaven. 
 
 Or if you rather choose the rural shade, 
 
 And find a fane in every sacred grove. 
 
 There let the shepherd’s flute, the virgin’s lay. 
 
 The prompting seraph, and the poet’s lyre, 
 
 Still sing the God of seasons as they roll. 
 
 For me, when I forget the darling theme, 
 
 Y hether the blossom blows, the summer ray 
 Russets the plain, inspiring autumn gleams. 
 
 Or winter rises in the blackening east, 
 
 Be my tongue mute—my fancy paint no more. 
 
 And, dead to joy, forget my heart to beat! 
 
 Should fate command me to the farthest verge 
 Of the green earth, to distant barbarous climes. 
 
 Rivers unknown to song—where first the sun 
 Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting beam 
 Flames on the Atlantic isles—-’tis nought to me: 
 
 Since God is ever present, ever felt. 
 
 In the void waste, as in the city full; 
 
 And where He vital spreads there must be joy. 
 
 When even at last the solemn hour shall come. 
 
 And wing my mystic flight to future worlds, 
 
 I cheerful will obey; there, with new powers. 
 
 Will rising wonders sing : I cannot go 
 Where Universal Love not smiles around. 
 
 Sustaining all yon orbs, and all their suns; 
 
 From seeming evil still educing good. 
 
 And better thence again, and better still. 
 
 In infinite progression. But I lose 
 Myself in Him, in light ineffable ! 
 
 Come then, expressive Silence, muse His praise. 
 
 7'homson . 
 
 3047. SECRESY : our safety. 
 
 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, 
 
 1 his only, to be safe in such a world as this is. 
 
 Rowe. 
 
SECRETS 
 
 59i 
 
 SEEKING CHRIST 
 
 3048. SECRETS. 
 
 All friendly trust is folly ; every man 
 Hath one, to whom he will commit as much 
 As is to him committed : our designs, 
 
 When once they creep from our own private breasts, 
 Do in a moment through the city fly ; 
 
 Who tells his secret, sells his liberty.— Freeman. 
 
 A secret in his mouth. 
 
 Is like a wild bird put into a cage ; 
 
 Whose door no sooner opens, but ’tis out. 
 
 Jons on. 
 
 When two know it, how can it be a secret ? 
 
 And indeed with what justice can you 
 Expect secresy in me, that cannot 
 Be private to yourself?— Marston. 
 
 He deserves small trust, 
 
 Who is not privy counsellor to himself. 
 
 Forde. 
 
 Do thou thy precious secrets to'no other lend: 
 
 Thy friend another has : beware of thy friend’s 
 friend.— Oriental. 
 
 3049. SECTS. Unity of the 
 
 Yes ; we do differ when we most agree ; 
 
 For words are not the same to you and me. 
 
 And it may be our several spiritual needs 
 Are best supplied by seeming different creeds. 
 
 And differing we agree in one 
 Inseparable communion, 
 
 If the true life be in our hearts—the faith 
 Which not to want is death ; 
 
 To want is penance ; to desire 
 Is purgatorial fire; 
 
 To hope is paradise ; and to believe 
 Is all of heaven that earth can e’er receive. 
 
 H. Coleridge. 
 
 3050. SEDUCTION. 
 
 Is there, in human form that bears a heart— 
 
 A wretch ! a villain ! lost to love and truth ! 
 
 That can with studied, sly, ensnaring art, 
 
 Betray sweet Jenny’s unsuspecting youth? 
 
 Curse on his perjured arts ! dissembling smooth ! 
 Are honour, virtue, conscience, all exiled ? 
 
 Is there no pity, no relenting ruth, 
 
 Points to the parents fondling o’er their child, 
 
 Then paints the ruin’d maid, and their distraction 
 wild ?— Burns. 
 
 Nought so ill 
 
 As the betrayer’s sin ! salvationless 
 Almost. — Bailey. 
 
 3051. SEEING JESUS. 
 
 ‘ We would see Jesus,’—for the shadows lengthen 
 • Across this little landscape of our life ; 
 
 We would see Jesus, our weak faith to strengthen. 
 For the last weariness—the final strife. 
 
 We would see Jesus,—other lights are paling. 
 
 Which for long years we have rejoiced to see ; 
 
 The blessings of our pilgrimage are failing, 
 
 We would not mourn them, for we go to Thee ! 
 
 We would see Jesus,—yet the spirit lingers 
 Round the dear objects we have loved so long. 
 
 And earth from earth can scarce unclose its fingers,— 
 Our love to Thee makes not this love less strong. 
 
 We would see Jesus,—sense is all too blinding, 
 
 And heaven appears too dim, too far away ; 
 
 We would see Thee, to gain a sweet reminding 
 That Thou hast promised our great debt to pay. 
 
 We would see Jesus,—this is all we’re needing, 
 Strength, joy, and willingness come with the sight; 
 
 We would see Jesus,—dying, risen, pleading ; 
 
 Then welcome day, and farewell mortal night. 
 
 3052. SEEKING CHRIST. 
 
 Christ, whose first appearance lighted 
 Gloomy Death’s obscure domain, 
 
 Long in Herod’s courts benighted 
 Sought I Thee, but sought in vain : 
 
 All was glitter, pomp and pleasure, 
 
 Sensuality and pride; 
 
 But my heart found not its treasure, 
 
 And remain’d unsatisfied. 
 
 Then to learned scribes and sages 
 Seeking Christ I wander’d on ; 
 
 But upon their barren pages 
 Jacob’s Star had never shone : 
 
 True, indeed, like men in prison 
 Groping for the light of day, 
 
 Spake they of the Light new-risen. 
 
 But themselves saw not one ray. 
 
 To the temple I was guided 
 By the altar-fire and lights ; 
 
 But, though all else was provided, 
 
 Christ was absent from the rites. 
 
 Then, more precious time I wasted 
 In thy streets, Jerusalem ; 
 
 But I sought in vain, and hasted 
 On my way to Bethlehem. 
 
 In the streets I wander’d slowly, 
 
 Looking for some trusty guide ; 
 
SELF 
 
 592 
 
 SELF-DELUSION 
 
 All was dark and melancholy. 
 
 None I met with, far and wide. 
 
 On a sudden I perceived 
 
 O’er my head a star to shine; 
 
 Lo, because I had believed, 
 
 And had sought Him, Christ was mine ] 
 
 Only seek and you will find Him : 
 
 Never cease to seek the Lord ; 
 
 And should He delay, remind Him 
 Boldly of His plighted word. 
 
 Follow Him, and He will lead you j 
 Trust Him in the darkest night j 
 Jacob s Star will still precede you, 
 
 Jacob’s Star will give you light. 
 
 Spitta, tr. by Massie. 
 
 3053. SELF. King of 
 
 Ah, silly man, who dream’st thy honour stands 
 In ruling others, not thyself! Thy slaves 
 Serve thee, and thou thy slave; in iron bands 
 Thy servile spirit, press’d with wild passions, raves. 
 Wouldst thou live honour’d ?—clip ambition’s wing ; 
 To reason’s yoke thy furious passions bring : 
 
 Thrice noble is the man who of himself is king ! 
 
 Fletcher. 
 
 3054. SELF-ABNEGATION: ‘Though I be 
 
 nothing.’ 
 
 O 
 
 Oh, to be nothing, nothing ! 
 
 An arrow hid in His hand. 
 
 Or a messenger at His gateway— 
 Waiting for His command ; 
 Only an instrument ready 
 For Him to use at His will, 
 And, should He not require me. 
 
 Willing to wait there still. 
 
 Oh, to be nothing, nothing ! 
 
 1 hough painful the humbling be. 
 Though it lay me low in the sight of those 
 Who are now, perhaps, praising me. 
 
 I would rather be nothing, nothing, 
 
 That to Him be their voices raised 
 W ho alone is the fountain of blessing, 
 
 Y\ ho alone is meet to be praised. 
 
 3055 - SELF-CONQUEST. 
 
 • • 
 
 Who would the title of true worth were his, 
 
 Must vanquish vice, and no base thoughts conceive : 
 I he bravest trophy ever man obtain’d 
 Is that which o’er himself himself hath gain’d. 
 
 Lari of Stirling. 
 
 3056. SELF-DEFENCE : justifiable. 
 
 If I m assaulted by another man, 
 
 I’m justified in slaying, if I can, 
 
 The would-be murderer. Who assails my life, 
 Earns, if he gets, his death-stroke in the strife. 
 For life and liberty a man may fight, 
 
 For kith and kindred sacred in his sight, 
 
 And honour dearer than the golden light. 
 
 Bailey. 
 
 3 ° 57 * SELF-DELUSION—its frequency. 
 
 It happen’d when a plague broke out, 
 (Which therefore made them more devout,) 
 The king of brutes (to make it plain, 
 
 Of quadrupeds I only mean) 
 
 By proclamation gave command, 
 
 • That every subject in the land 
 Should to the priest confess their sins. 
 
 And thus the pious Wolf begins : 
 
 ‘ Good father, I must own with shame. 
 
 That often I have been to blame. 
 
 I must confess, on Friday last, 
 
 W retch that I was ! I broke my fast 1 
 But I defy the basest tongue 
 To prove I did my neighbour wrong; 
 
 Or ever went to seek my food, 
 
 By rapine, theft, or thirst of blood.’ 
 
 The ass approaching next, confess’d. 
 
 That in his heart he loved a jest: 
 
 A wag he was, he needs must own, 
 
 And could not let a dunce alone : 
 
 Sometimes his friend he would not spare. 
 And might perhaps be too severe : 
 
 But yet the worst that could be said, 
 
 He was a wit both born and bred ; 
 
 And, if it be a sin and shame, 
 
 Nature alone must bear the blame. 
 
 One fault he has, is sorry for’t, 
 
 His ears are half a foot too short; 
 
 Which could he to the standard bring. 
 
 He’d show his face before the king: 
 
 Then for his voice, there’s none disputes 
 1 hat he’s the nightingale of brutes. 
 
 The swine with contrite heart allow’d 
 His shape and beauty made him proud : 
 
 In diet was perhaps too nice. 
 
 But gluttony was ne’er his vice: 
 
 In every turn of life content, 
 
 And meekly took what fortune sent : 
 
 Inquire through all the parish round, 
 
 A better neighbour ne’er was found ; 
 
 His vigilance might some displease ; 
 
 I is true he hated sloth like joease. 
 
 Apply the tale, and you shall find 
 IIow just it suits with humankind— Swift. 
 
SELF-DENIAL 
 
 593 
 
 SELF-LOVE 
 
 3058. SELF-DENIAL. Gain of 
 
 Would’st thou inherit life with Christ on high ? 
 Then count the cost, and know 
 That here on earth below 
 Thou needs must suffer with thy Lord, and die. 
 We reach that gain, to which all else is loss. 
 
 But through the cross ! 
 
 Not e’en the sharpest sorrows we can feel, 
 
 Nor keenest pangs, we dare 
 With that great bliss compare, 
 
 When God His glory shall in us reveal, 
 
 That shall endure when our brief woes are o’er, 
 For evermore!— Simon Dach. 
 
 3059. SELF-ESTEEM. Danger of 
 
 Beware of too sublime a sense 
 Of your own worth and consequence. 
 
 The man who deems himself so great, 
 
 And his importance of such weight, 
 
 That all around in all that’s done 
 Must move and act for him alone, 
 
 Will learn, in school of tribulation, 
 
 The folly of his expectation. — Coupcr. 
 
 3060. SELF-EXAMINATION. 
 
 By all means use sometimes to be alone. 
 
 Salute thyself: see what thy soul doth wear. 
 
 Dare to look in thy chest; for ’tis thine own : 
 
 And tumble up and down what thou find’st there. 
 Who cannot rest till he good fellows find, 
 
 He breaks up house, turns out of doors his mind. 
 
 Sum up by night what thou hast done by day, 
 
 And in the morning, what thou hast to do : 
 
 Dress and undress thy soul; mark the decay 
 And growth of it: if, with thy watch, that too 
 Be down, then wind up both : since we shall be 
 Most surely judged, make thy accounts agree. 
 
 Herbert. 
 
 3061. SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 W E, that acquaint ourselves with every zone, 
 
 And pass the tropics, and behold each pole, 
 When we come home are to ourselves unknown, 
 And unacquainted still with our own soul. 
 
 Davies. 
 
 Tv&Qi otavTov ! And is this the prime 
 And heaven-sprung adage of the olden time ? 
 
 Say, canst thou make thyself? Learn first that trade: 
 Haply thou may’st know what thyself had made. 
 
 Vvhat hast thou, man, that thou dost call thine own? 
 W hat is there in thee, man, that can be known ? 
 Dark fluxion, all unfixable by thought, 
 
 A phantom dim, of past and future wrought, 
 
 Vain sister of the worm, life, death, soil, clod. 
 
 Ignore thyself, and strive to know thy God! 
 
 Coleridge,. 
 
 3062. SELF-LOVE. 
 
 Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin 
 As self-neglecting. — Shakespeare. 
 
 Ofttimes nothing profits more 
 
 Than self-esteem, grounded on just and right. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 Some, valuing those of their own side or mind. 
 
 Still make themselves the measure of mankind; 
 
 Fondly we think we honour merit then 
 
 When we but praise ourselves in other men. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Self-love and reason to one end aspire. 
 
 Pain their aversion, pleasure their desire. 
 
 Pope\ 
 
 True self-love and social are the same.— Pope. 
 
 By the blast of self-opinion moved, 
 
 We wish to charm, and seek to be beloved. 
 
 Prior. 
 
 3063. SELF-LOVE. 
 
 Oh ! I could go through all life’s troubles singing. 
 Turning earth’s night to day, 
 
 If self were not so fast around me clinging, 
 
 To all I do or say. 
 
 My very thoughts are selfish, always building 
 Mean castles in the air ; 
 
 I use my love for others for a gilding 
 To make myself look fair. 
 
 I fancy all the world engross’d with judging 
 My merit or my blame ; 
 
 Its warmest praise seems an ungracious grudging 
 Of praise which I might claim. 
 
 In youth or age, by city, wood, or mountain, 
 
 Self is forgotten never ; 
 
 Where’er we tread, it gushes like a fountain,— 
 
 Its waters flow for ever. 
 
 Alas ! no speed in life can snatch us wholly 
 Out of seifs hateful sight; 
 
 And it keeps step whene’er we travel slowly. 
 
 And sleeps with us at night. 
 
 No griefs sharp knife, no pain’s most cruel sawing. 
 Self and the soul can sever ; 
 
 The surface, that in joy sometimes seems thawing. 
 Soon freezes worse than ever. 
 
 Thus are we never men, seifs wretched swathing 
 Not letting virtue swell ; 
 
 Thus is our whole life numb’d, for ever bathing 
 Within this frozen well. 
 
 38 
 
SELFISHNESS 
 
 594 
 
 SENSIBILITY 
 
 O miserable omnipresence, stretching 
 Over all time and space, 
 
 How have I run from thee, yet found thee reaching 
 The goal in every race ! 
 
 Inevitable self! vile imitation 
 Of universal light,— 
 
 .Within our hearts a dreadful usurpation 
 Of God’s exclusive right! 
 
 The opiate balms of grace may haply still thee. 
 Deep in my nature lying; 
 
 For I may hardly hope, alas ! to kill thee. 
 
 Save by the act of dying. 
 
 O Lord, that I could waste my life for others. 
 
 With no ends of my own ! 
 
 That I could pour myself into my brothers. 
 
 And live for them alone ! 
 
 Such was the life Thou lived’st; self-abjuring, 
 Thine own pains never easing, 
 
 Our burdens bearing, our just doom enduring, 
 
 A life without self-pleasing.— Faber. 
 
 3064. SELFISHNESS : deplored. 
 
 Alas ! I have walk’d through life. 
 
 Too heedless where I trod ; 
 
 Nay, helping to trample my fellow-worm. 
 
 And fill the burial sod ; 
 
 Forgetting that even the sparrow falls 
 Not unmark’d of God. 
 
 I drank the richest draughts : 
 
 And ate whatever is good— 
 
 Fish, and flesh,-and fowl, and fruit. 
 
 Supplied my hungry mood; 
 
 But I never remember’d the wretched ones 
 That starve for want of food ! 
 
 I dress’d as the noble dress, 
 
 In cloth of silver and gold, 
 
 W ith silk and satin, and costly furs, 
 
 In many an ample fold ; 
 
 But I never remember’d the naked limbs 
 That froze with winter’s cold. 
 
 The wounds I might have heal’d l 
 The human sorrow and smart! 
 
 And yet it never was in my soul 
 To play so ill a part : 
 
 But evil is wrought by want of Thought, 
 
 As well as want of Heart l—Hood. 
 
 3065. SELFISHNESS : insincerely condemned. 
 
 And though all cry down self, none means 
 
 His own self in a literal sense.— Butler. 
 
 3 °66. SELFISHNESS : its perverting influence- 
 
 Self is the medium least refined of all, 
 
 Through which Opinion’s searching beam can fall; 
 And passing there, the clearest, steadiest ray 
 Will tinge its light and turn its line astray.— Moon *! 
 
 3067. SELFISHNESS. Pains of 
 
 The selfish heart deserves the pain it feels ; 
 
 More gen’rous sorrow, while it sinks, exalts, 
 
 And conscious virtue mitigates the pang.— Young ; 
 
 3068. SELFISHNESS. Parsimonious 
 
 Look at the selfish man ! see how he locks 
 Tight in his arms his mortgages and stocks ! 
 
 While deeds and titles in his hand he grasps, 
 
 And gold and silver close around him clasps. 
 
 But not content with this, behind he drags 
 A cart well-laden with the ponderous bags ; 
 
 The orphan’s wailings and the widow’s woe 
 From mercy’s fountain cause no tears to flow : 
 
 He pours no cordial in the wounds of pain; 
 
 Unlocks no prison, and unclasps no chain ; 
 
 His heart is like the rock where sun nor dew 
 Can rear one plant or flower of heavenly hue. 
 
 No thought of mercy there may have its birth. 
 
 For helpless misery or suffering worth ; 
 
 The end of all his life is paltry pelf, 
 
 And all his thoughts are centred on—himself: 
 
 The wretch of both w r orlds ; for so mean a sum. 
 
 ‘ First starved in this, then damn’d in that to come/ * 
 
 W. Holmes. 
 
 3069. SELFISHNESS. Reproof of 
 
 O MAN, forget not thou, earth’s honoured priest. 
 
 Its tongue, its soul, its life, its pulse, its heart. 
 
 In earth’s great chorus to sustain thy part! 
 
 Chiefest of guests at love’s ungrudging feast, 
 
 Play not the niggard; spurn thy native clod, 
 
 And self disown ; 
 
 Live to thy neighbour ; live unto thy God ; 
 
 Not to thyself alone ! 
 
 3070. SENSIBILITY. 
 
 t 
 
 Oh why are farmers made so coarse, 
 
 Or clergy made so fine ? 
 
 A kick, that scarce would move a horse. 
 
 May kill a sound divine.— Confer. 
 
 Yet what is wit, and what the poet’s art? 
 
 Can genius shield the vulnerable heart ? 
 
 Ah, no ! where bright imagination reigns, 
 
 The fine-wrought spirit feels acuter pains; 
 
SENSIBILITY 
 
 595 
 
 SEPARATION 
 
 Where glow exalted sense and taste refined, 
 There keener anguish rankles in the mind. 
 
 Hannah More. 
 
 Dearly bought the hidden treasure 
 Finer feelings can bestow ! 
 
 Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure 
 Thrill the deepest notes of woe.— Burns. 
 
 3071. SENSIBILITY. Description of 
 
 Sweet Sensibility ! thou keen delight ! 
 
 Unprompted moral! sudden sense of right! 
 Perception exquisite ! fair Virtue’s seed ! 
 
 Thou quick precursor of the liberal deed ! 
 
 Thou hasty conscience ! reason’s blushing morn ! 
 Instinctive kindness ere Reflection’s born ! 
 
 Prompt sense of equity ! to thee belongs 
 The swift redress of unexamined wrongs ; 
 
 Eager to serve, the cause perhaps untried, 
 
 But always apt to choose the suffering side ; 
 
 To those who know thee not, no words can paint, 
 And those who know thee, know all words are faint. 
 She does not feel thy power who boasts thy flame, 
 And rounds her every period with thy name ; 
 
 Nor she who vents her disproportion’d sighs 
 With pining Lesbia, when her sparrow dies ; 
 
 Nor she who melts when hapless Shore expires, 
 While present misery unrelieved retires ; 
 
 Who thinks feign’d sorrows all her tears deserve, 
 And weeps o’er Werter, while her children starve. 
 As words are but the external marks to tell 
 The fair ideas in the mind that dwell, 
 
 And only are of things the outward sign, 
 
 And not the things themselves they but define ; 
 
 So exclamations, tender tones, fond tears, 
 
 And all the graceful drapery Feeling wears, 
 
 These are her garb, not her : they but express 
 Her form, her semblance, her appropriate dress; 
 
 And these fair marks, reluctant I admit— 
 
 These lovely symbols may be counterfeit. 
 
 One, scorning life’s low duties to attend, 
 
 Writes odes on friendship while he cheats his friend ; 
 Of jails and punishments he grieves to hear, 
 
 And pensions prison’d Virtue with a tear : 
 
 While unpaid bills his creditor presents, 
 
 And ruin’d Innocence his crime laments. 
 
 O Lord, Divine, sole Source of charity ! 
 
 More dear one genuine deed perform’d for Thee, 
 Than all the periods Feeling ere could turn— 
 
 Than all thy touching page, perverted Sterne. 
 
 Hannah More. 
 
 3072. SEPARATION. The Final 
 
 Thus stood they mix’d ! all generations stood 
 Of all mankind ! innumerable throng ! 
 
 Great harvest of the grave! waiting the will 
 Of Heaven ! attentively and silent all, 
 
 As forests spreading out beneath the calm 
 Of evening skies, when even the single leaf 
 Is heard distinctly rustle down and fall; 
 
 So silent they, when from above the sound 
 Of rapid wheels approach’d, and suddenly 
 In heaven appear’d a host of angels strong, 
 
 With chariots and with steeds of burning fire : 
 Cherub, and Seraph, Thrones, Dominions, Powers, 
 Bright in celestial armour, dazzling, rode : 
 
 And leading in the front, illustrious shone 
 Michael and Gabriel, servants long approved 
 In high commission—girt that day with power. 
 Which nought created, man or devil, might 
 Resist : nor waited gazing long ; but quick 
 Descending, silently and without song, 
 
 As servants bent to do their Master’s work, 
 
 To middle air they raised the human race, 
 
 Above the path long travell’d by the sun; 
 
 And as a shepherd from the sheep divides 
 The goats ; or husbandman, with reaping bands, 
 
 In harvest separates the precious wheat, 
 
 Selected from the tares : so did they part 
 Mankind—the good and bad, to right and left—■ 
 
 To meet no more; these ne’er again to smile ; 
 
 Nor those to weep ; these never more to share 
 Society of mercy with the saints ; 
 
 Nor, henceforth, those to suffer with the vile. 
 
 Strange parting; not for hours, nor days, nor months, 
 Nor for ten thousand times ten thousand years ; 
 
 But for a whole eternity ; though fit, 
 
 And pleasant to the righteous, yet to all 
 
 Strange and most strangely felt! The sire, to right 
 
 Retiring, saw the son, sprung from his loins, 
 
 Beloved how dearly once—but who forgot, 
 
 Too soon, in sin’s intoxicating cup, 
 
 The father’s warnings and the mother’s tears— 
 
 Fall to the left among the reprobate. 
 
 And sons redeem’d, beheld the fathers, whom 
 They loved and honour’d once, gather’d among 
 The wicked : brothers, sisters, kinsmen, friends, 
 Husband and wife, who ate at the same board, 
 
 And under the same roof, united, dwelt, 
 
 From youth to hoary age, bearing the chance 
 And change of time together—parted then 
 For evermore. But none whose friendship grew 
 From virtue’s pure and everlasting root 
 Took different roads ; these, knit in stricter bonds 
 Of amity, embracing, saw no more 
 Death with his scythe stand by, nor heard the 
 word, 
 
 The bitter word, which closed all earthly friendships 
 And finish’d every feast of love—Farewell. 
 
 To all, strange parting ! to the wicked, sad 
 And terrible ! new horror seized them while 
 
SERVANTS 
 
 596 
 
 SHADOWS 
 
 They saw the saints withdrawing, and with them 
 All hope of safety, all delay of wrath.— Pollok. 
 
 3073. SERVANTS. 
 
 Expect not more from servants than is just; 
 Reward them well, if they observe their trust, 
 
 Nor with them cruelty or pride invade ; 
 
 Since God and nature them our brothers made. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 I am not of that harsh and morose temper 
 As some great men are tax’d with ; who imagine 
 They part from the respect due to their honours, 
 If they use not all such as follow them, 
 
 Without distinction of their births, like slaves. 
 
 I am not so condition’d : I can make 
 A fitting difference between my foot-boy, 
 
 And a gentleman, by want compell’d to serve me. 
 
 Massinger. 
 
 3074. SERVICE. 
 
 ’Tis the curse of service, 
 
 Preferment goes by letter and affection, 
 
 And not by old gradation ; where each second 
 Stood heir to the first.— Shakespeare. 
 
 3075* SERVICE. CHRISTIAN: possible to 
 all. 
 
 Hark the voice of Jesus crying, 
 
 Who will go and work to-day ? 
 
 Fields are white and harvest waiting, 
 
 Who will bear the sheaves away ? 
 
 Loud and long the Master calleth, 
 
 Rich reward He offers free : 
 
 Who will answer, gladly saying, 
 
 ‘ Here am I, send me, send me ! ’ 
 
 If you cannot cross the ocean, 
 
 And the heathen lands explore, 
 
 You can find the heathen nearer, 
 
 You can help them at your door. 
 
 If you cannot give your thousands, 
 
 You can give the widow’s mite, 
 
 And the least you give for Jesus, 
 
 Will be precious in His sight. 
 
 If you cannot speak like angels, 
 
 If you cannot preach like Paul, 
 
 You can tell the love of Jesus, 
 
 You can say He died for all. 
 
 If you cannot rouse the wicked, 
 
 With the Judgment’s dread alarms, 
 
 You can lead the little children 
 To the Saviour’s waiting arms. 
 
 Let none hear you idly saying, 
 
 ‘ There is nothing I can do,’ 
 
 While the souls of men are dying, 
 
 And the Master calls for you. 
 
 Take the task He gives you, gladly, 
 
 Let His work your pleasure be ; 
 
 Answer quickly, when He calleth, 
 
 4 Here am I, send me, send me ! 5 
 
 Dr Marsh. 
 
 3076. SERVICE. CHRISTIAN : the desire of 
 the Christ-like soul. 
 
 Heavenly Helper, Friend Divine, 
 
 Friend of all men, therefore mine, 
 
 Let my heart as Thy heart be, 
 
 Breathe Thy living breath through me ! 
 
 Only at Thy love’s pure tide 
 Human thirst is satisfied ; 
 
 He who fills his chalice there, 
 
 Fills, with thirstier souls to share. 
 
 Undefiled One, who dost win 
 All Thine own from paths of sin, 
 
 Never let me dread to go 
 Where is guilt or want or woe ! 
 
 If another lose the way, 
 
 My feet also go astray. 
 
 Sleepless watcher, lead us back 
 Safe into the homeward track. 
 
 As a bird unto its nest, 
 
 Flies the tired soul to Thy breast. 
 
 Let not one an alien be ! 
 
 Lord, we have no home but Thee ! 
 
 Lucy Larcotn. 
 
 3077. SEXTON. 
 
 See yonder maker of the dead man’s bed, 
 
 The sexton, hoary-headed chronicle ! 
 
 Of hard unmeaning face, down which ne’er stole 
 A gentle tear; with mattock in his hand, 
 
 Digs through whole rows of kindred and acquaintance 
 By far his juniors ! scarce a skull’s cast up 
 But well he knew its owner, and can tell 
 Some passage of his life. Thus, hand in hand, 
 
 The sot has walk’d with death twice twenty years ; 
 And yet ne’er younker on the green laughs louder. 
 
 Or clubs a smuttier tale ; when drunkards meet. 
 
 None sings a merrier catch, or lends a hand 
 More willing to his cup. Poor wretch ; he minds not 
 That soon some trusty brother of the trade 
 Shall do for him what he has done for thousands. 
 
 Blair. 
 
 3078. SHADOWS. 
 
 Between two breaths, what crowded mysteries lie,— 
 The first short gasp, the last and long-draw sigh ! 
 
597 
 
 SIGHT 
 
 SHEPHERD'S VOICE 
 
 Like phantoms painted on the magic slide, 
 
 Forth from the darkness of the past we glide, 
 
 As living shadows for a moment seen 
 In airy pageant on the eternal screen. 
 
 Traced by a ray from one unchanging flame, 
 
 Then seek the dust and stillness, whence we came. 
 
 0 . W. Holmes. 
 
 3079. SHEPHERD’S VOICE. The 
 
 ‘Come unto me,’ with loving voice at morn 
 I heard the Shepherd call, 
 
 But narrow seem’d the fold, and fair the fields' 
 Beyond the frowning wall. 
 
 Again, at midday, came the gentle voice. 
 
 But far my feet had stray’d, 
 
 And, weary with the heat, I only long’d 
 To find the forest shade. 
 
 Once more it came, but cool the shadows lay 
 Across the glassy wold, 
 
 And resting there, content with present ease, 
 
 I scorn’d the sheltering fold. 
 
 Soon fell the night, with neither silver star 
 Nor song of happy bird, 
 
 And through the gloom no more, with pleadings 
 sweet, 
 
 The Shepherd’s voice I heard. 
 
 Affrighted then, I turn’d, and blindly sought 
 To cross the pathless lea, 
 
 Till faint with fear, in sorest need, I cried, 
 
 ‘ O Shepherd, come to me ! ’ 
 
 No answering voice the sullen silence cleft, 
 
 But, lo, beside me stood 
 
 One who with sorrowing brow had follow'd close 
 Unseen through wold and wood. 
 
 Then all the night grew light, and soft and sweet 
 t The stars shone overhead, 
 
 While homeward by the Shepherd’s tender hand 
 The wandering sheep was led .—Mary B. Sleight. 
 
 3080. SHIPS. 
 
 Speed on the ship !—But let her bear 
 No merchandise of sin, 
 
 No groaning cargo of despair, 
 
 Her roomy hold within. 
 
 No Lethean drug for Eastern lands. 
 
 Nor poison-draught for ours ; 
 
 But honest fruits of toiling hands 
 And Nature’s sun and showers. 
 
 Be hers the Prairie’s golden grain. 
 
 The Desert’s golden sand, 
 
 The cluster’d fruits of sunny Spain, 
 
 The spice of Morning-land ! 
 
 •Her pathway on the open main 
 May blessings follow free, 
 
 And glad hearts welcome back again 
 Her white sails from the sea. — Whittier. 
 
 3081. SHIPWRECK. A lesson from 
 
 • He’s a foolish seaman, 
 
 That, when his ship is sinking, will not 
 Unlade his hopes into another bottom. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 3082. SICKNESS. Vows in 
 
 And wilt thou now that God hath raised thee up. 
 The vows, the promises, thy conscience made. 
 What time beneath God’s chastening rod afraid 
 Thou drank’st submissive of affliction’s cup, 
 
 Wilt thou in health perform ? Or wilt thou stoop 
 Again to sin, as if thou wouldst upbraid 
 God for His kindness, all thy debt unpaid 
 Of gratitude, foregone thy Christian hope, 
 
 Thy tears, and prayers for pardon? If misused 
 God’s grace, bethink thee lest thy end be worse 
 Than thy beginning ! Mercy’s boon refused 
 Shall fall in judgment on the soul perverse 
 That slights the gift; and goodness long abused 
 Convert the intended blessing to a curse.— Mant. 
 
 3083. SIGHT : the story of Bartimceus. 
 
 My Saviour, what Thou didst of old, 
 
 When Thou wast dwelling here, 
 
 Thou doest yet for them who, bold 
 In faith, to Thee draw near. 
 
 Mourning I sat beside the way. 
 
 In sightless gloom apart, 
 
 And sadness heavy on me lay, 
 
 And longing gnaw’d my heart: 
 
 I heard the music of the psalms 
 Thy people sung to Thee ; 
 
 I felt the waving of their palms ; 
 
 And yet I could not see. 
 
 My pain grew more than I could bear, 
 
 Too keen my grief became ; 
 
 Then I took heart in my despair 
 To call upon Thy name : 
 
 ‘ O Son of David ! save and heal. 
 
 As Thou so oft hast done : 
 
 O heavenly Saviour, let me feel 
 My load of darkness gone.' 
 
SILENCE 
 
 598 
 
 SILENCE 
 
 And ever weeping, as I spoke, 
 
 With bitter prayers and sighs, 
 
 My stony heart grew soft and broke, 
 
 More earnest yet my cries. 
 
 A sudden answer still’d my fear ; 
 
 For it was said to me, 
 
 ‘ O poor blind man ! be of good cheer; 
 Arise, He calleth thee.’ 
 
 I felt, Lord, that Thou stoodest still; 
 
 Groping, Thy feet I sought; 
 
 From off me fell my old self-will, 
 
 A change came o’er my thought. 
 
 Thou saidst, ‘ What is it thou wouldst have ? 
 
 ‘ Lord, that I might have sight; 
 
 To see Thy countenance I crave.’ 
 
 ‘ So be it: have thou light.’ 
 
 And words of Thine can never fail, 
 
 My fears are past and o’er ; 
 
 My soul is glad with light, the veil 
 Is on my heart no more. 
 
 De La Hotte Fonque, tr. by IIiss Winkworth. 
 
 3084. SILENCE. Divine 
 
 Never with blast of trumpets 
 And the chariot wheels of fame 
 Do the servants and sons of the Highest 
 His oracles proclaim; 
 
 But when grandest truths are utter’d, 
 
 And when holiest depths are stirr’d, 
 
 When our God Himself draws nearest, 
 
 The still, small voice is heard. 
 
 He has seal’d His own with silence : 
 
 His years that come and go, 
 
 Bringing still their mighty measures 
 Of glory and of woe— 
 
 Have you heard one note of triumph 
 Proclaim their course begun ? 
 
 One voice or bell give tidings 
 When their ministry was done ? 
 
 3085. SILENCE. Joyful 
 
 Silence is the perfectest herald of joy ; 
 
 I were but little happy if I could say how much. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Indeed, true gladness doth not always speak: 
 
 Joy bred and born but in the tongue is weak. 
 
 Ben Jonson. 
 
 3086. SILENCE : our wisdom in times of suffer¬ 
 
 ing. 
 
 Silence in times of suffering is the best: ! 
 
 ’Tis dangerous to disturb a hornets’ nest. 
 
 Dryden, 
 
 When the song s gone out of your life, you can’t start 
 another while it’s a-ringing in your ears, but it’s best to have a 
 bit of silence, and out o' that may be a psalm’ll come by-and- 
 by. —Edward Garrett . 
 
 When the song’s gone out of your life, 
 
 That you thought would last to the end— 
 That first sweet song of the heart 
 That no after days can lend— 
 
 The song of the birds to the trees, 
 
 The song of the wind to the flowers, 
 
 The song that the heart sings low to itself 
 When it wakes in life’s morning hours; 
 
 ‘ You can start no other song.’ 
 
 Not even a tremulous note 
 Will falter forth on the empty air; 
 
 It dies in your aching throat. 
 
 It is all in vain that you try, 
 
 For the spirit of song has fled— 
 
 The nightingale sings no more to the rose 
 When the beautiful flower is dead. 
 
 So let silence softly fall 
 On the bruised heart’s quivering strings; 
 Perhaps from the loss of all you may learn 
 The song that the seraph sings; 
 
 A grand and glorious psalm 
 That will tremble, and rise, and thrill, 
 
 And fill your breast with its grateful rest, 
 
 And its lonely yearnings still. 
 
 3087. SILENCE. Power of 
 
 The silence often of pure innocence 
 Persuades, when speaking fails. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 3088. SILENCE. True 
 
 There is a silence where hath been no sound, 
 
 There is a silence where no sound may be, 
 
 In the cold grave, under the deep, deep sea, 
 
 Or in wide desert where no life is found, 
 
 Which hath been mute, and still must sleep profound ; 
 No voice is hush’d—no life treads silently, 
 
 But clouds and cloudy shadows wander free. 
 
 That never spoke, over the idle ground : 
 
 But in green ruins, in the desolate walls 
 Of antique palaces, where man hath been, 
 
 Though the dun fox or wild hyena calls, 
 
 And owls that flit continually between, 
 
 Shriek to the echo, and the low winds moan, 
 
 1 here the true silence is, self-conscious and alone. 
 
 Hood. 
 
 3089. SILENCE. Wise 
 
 In silence wise men oft great things have to perfec¬ 
 tion brought; 
 
 And fools as oft have made a most tremendous noise 
 for nought. 
 
SIMILES 
 
 599 
 
 SIN 
 
 The mighty sky-wheel rolls about its axis without 
 sound : 
 
 The weaver’s rickety spool rattles its clattering course 
 around. 
 
 This wooden bobbin only a small piece of linen 
 yields : 
 
 That azure one with starry veil o’erspreads heaven’s 
 boundless fields.— Oriental. 
 
 3090. SIMILES. 
 
 Similes are like songs in love : 
 
 They much describe, they nothing prove. 
 
 Prior. 
 
 3091. SIN : accounted a light thing. 
 
 My God ! my God ! and can it be 
 That I should sin so lightly now. 
 
 And think no more of evil thoughts 
 
 Than of the wind that Avaves the bough ? 
 
 I sin ; and heaven and earth go round, 
 
 As if no dreadful deed were done, 
 
 As if God’s blood had never flow’d 
 To hinder sin or to atone. 
 
 I walk the earth with lightsome step. 
 Smile at the sunshine, breathe the air, 
 Do my own will, nor ever heed 
 Gethsemane and Thy long prayer. 
 
 Shall it be alway thus, O Lord ? 
 
 Wilt Thou not work this hour in me 
 The grace Thy passion merited, 
 
 Hatred of self and love of Thee ? 
 
 Oh, by the pains of Thy pure love, 
 
 Grant me the gift of holy fear ; 
 
 And, by Thy death, Thy bloody sweat, 
 
 Oh wash my guilty conscience clear ! 
 
 Faber. 
 
 3092. SIN. Beginning of 
 
 ’Tis fearful building upon any sin : 
 
 One mischief enter’d brings another in ; 
 
 The second pulls a third, the third draws more, 
 And they for all the rest set ope the door : 
 
 Till custom takes away the judging sense, 
 
 That to offend we think it no offence. 
 
 William Smith. 
 
 3094. SIN. Evil of 
 
 Sin is the living worm, the lasting fire ; 
 
 Hell soon would lose its heat, could sin expire. 
 Better sinless in hell, than to be where 
 Heaven is, and to be found a sinner there. 
 
 One sinless with infernals might do well, 
 
 But sin would make of heaven a very hell. 
 
 Look to thyself then, keep it out of door. 
 
 Lest it get in and never leave thee more. 
 
 Fools make a mock of sin, will not believe 
 It carries such a dagger in its sleeve ; 
 
 ‘ How can it be,’ say they, ‘ that such a thing, 
 
 So full of sweetness, e’er should wear a sting ?* 
 They know not that it is the very spell 
 Of sin, to make men laugh themselves to hell. 
 Look to thyself then, deal with sin no more. 
 Lest He that saves against thee shuts the door. 
 
 Bunyan. 
 
 3095. SIN : its germs hid in the heart. , 
 
 Know’st thou not all germs of evil 
 In thy heart await their time ? 
 
 Not thyself, but God’s restraining, 
 
 Stays their growth of crime. — Whittier. 
 
 3096. SIN : its pleasures transient. 
 
 If thou dost ill, the joy fades, not the pains ; 
 
 If well, the pain doth fade, the joy remains. 
 
 Herbert. 
 
 3097. SIN. Progress in 
 
 He that once sins, like him that slides on ice. 
 
 Goes swiftly down the slippery ways of vice : 
 
 Though conscience checks him, yet, those rubs gone 
 o’er, 
 
 He slides on smoothly, and looks back no more. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 As the fond sheep that idly strays, 
 
 With wanton play, through devious ways, 
 Which never hits the road of home, 
 
 O’er wilds of danger learns to roam, 
 
 Till, wearied out with idle fear, 
 
 And passing there, and turning here, 
 
 He will, for rest, to covert run, 
 
 And meet the wolf he strove to shun : 
 
 Thus wretched I, through wanton will. 
 
 Ran blind and headlong on in ill. 
 
 3093. SIN : destroys peace of conscience. 
 
 He that commits a sin shall find 
 The pressing guilt lie heavy on his mind, 
 Though bribes or favours shall assert his cause. 
 
 Creech. 
 
 ’Twas thus from sin to sin I flew. 
 
 And thus I might have perish’d too ; 
 
 But mercy dropp’d the likeness here. 
 And show’d and saved me from my fear. 
 While o’er the dai'kness of my mind 
 The sacred Spirit purely shined, 
 
SIN 
 
 600 
 
 SINS 
 
 And mark’d and brighten’d all the way 
 Which leads to everlasting day ; 
 
 And broke the thickening clouds of sin, 
 
 And fix’d the light of love within .—Parnell. 
 
 When at first from virtue’s path we stray, 
 
 How shrinks the feeble heart with sad dismay ! 
 More bold at length, by powerful habit led, 
 
 Careless and sered, the dreary wilds we tread; 
 Behold the gaping gulf of sin with scorn, 
 
 And plunging deep, to endless death are borne. 
 
 Janies Scott. 
 
 309S. SIN : renders the death-bed terrible. 
 
 Our sins, like to our shadows, 
 
 When our day is in its glory, scarce appear’d : 
 Towards our evening how great and monstrous 
 They are !— Suckling. 
 
 3099. SIN. Shamefulness of 
 
 It is a shame, that man, that has the seeds 
 Of virtue in him springing unto glory. 
 
 Should make his soul degenerate with sin, 
 
 And slave to luxury; to drown his spirits 
 In lees of sloth ; to yield up the weak day 
 To wine, to lust, and banquets.— Shackerly. 
 
 3100. SIN : the act of the will. 
 
 The body sins not; ’tis the will 
 That makes the action good or ill. 
 
 Herrick. 
 
 He that for love of goodness hateth ill. 
 
 Is more crown-worthy still 
 
 Than he who for sin’s penalty forbears ; 
 
 His heart sins, though he fears.— Jonson. 
 
 3101. SINCERITY. 
 
 His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles; 
 
 His love sincere, his thoughts immaculate ; 
 
 His tears pure messengers sent from his heart; 
 His heart as far from fraud, as heaven from earth. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 I cannot hide what I am : I must be 
 Sad when I have cause, and smile at no man’s 
 Jests; eat when I have stomach, and wait for 
 No man’s leisure ; sleep when I am drowsy, 
 
 And tend on no man’s business; laugh when I 
 Am merry, and claw no man in his humour. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 3102. SINGERS. 
 
 God sent His Singers upon earth 
 With songs of sadness and of mirth. 
 
 That they might touch the hearts of men, 
 And bring them back to heaven again. 
 
 Longfellow * 
 
 3103. SINNERS : invited to Christ. 
 
 Sinner, hear thy Saviour’s call, 
 
 He now is passing by ; 
 
 He has seen thy grievous thrall, 
 
 And heard thy mournful cry. 
 
 He has pardon to impart, 
 
 Grace to save thee from thy fears ; 
 
 See the love that fills His heart, 
 
 And wipe away thy tears. 
 
 Raise thy downcast eyes and see 
 What throngs His throne surround ; 
 These, though sinners once like thee, 
 
 Have full salvation found. 
 
 Yield not then to unbelief, 
 
 While He says, ‘ There yet is room/ 
 Though of sinners thou art chief, 
 
 Since Jesus calls thee, come. 
 
 3104. SINNERS : invited to Christ. 
 
 Just as thou art,—without one trace 
 Of love, or joy, or inward grace, 
 
 Or meetness for the heavenly place, 
 
 O guilty sinner, come ! 
 
 Thy sins I bore on Calvary’s tree ; 
 
 The stripes thy due were laid on Me, 
 
 That peace and pardon might be free,— 
 
 O wretched sinner, come ! 
 
 Burden’d with guilt, wouldst thou be blest ? 
 Trust not the world ; it gives no rest: 
 
 I bring relief to hearts opprest,— 
 
 O weary sinner, come ! 
 
 Come, leave thy burden at the cross ; 
 
 Count all thy gains but empty dross ; 
 
 My grace repays all earthly loss,— 
 
 O needy sinner, come ! 
 
 Come, hither bring thy boding fears, 
 
 Thy aching heart, thy bursting tears : 
 
 ’Tis mercy’s voice salutes thine ears ; 
 
 O trembling sinner, come ! 
 
 ‘ The Spirit and the Bride say, Come ; ’ 
 Rejoicing saints re-echo, Come ; 
 
 Who faints, who thirsts, who will, may come ; 
 Thy Saviour bids thee come. 
 
 R. S. Cook . 
 
 3105. SINS: deplored. 
 
 There they lie ! 
 
 The crimson things are lying at Thy feet. 
 
SKULL 
 
 601 
 
 SLANDER 
 
 Waiting for Thee to make them ‘ white as snow ’; 
 
 I cannot look upon them for the shame 
 That surgeth up within my grieving heart. 
 
 Dyeing my cheek as crimson as my sins. 
 
 O patient, pitying Christ!; 
 
 Let Thy humanity cry out for me 
 Unto the Father whom Thou lovest so, 
 
 That I may be forgiven. 
 
 Dear Lord, this bondage has been very hard— 
 
 Evil has worn such radiant, spotless robes, 
 
 And in my heart’s guest-chamber hath lain down 
 Wrapp’d in so fair a guise that I have thought 
 I entertain’d an angel guest from Thee. 
 
 And yet, 
 
 Not always was it thus.—Again I feel 
 The crimson flush of shame upon my cheek— 
 
 For many times have I said, ‘ Enter thou,’ 
 
 When she hath come clad in her own dark robes, 
 And I have laid my hand in hers, and smiled. 
 Remembering not that Thou didst die for me, 
 
 I have made merry when I should have voept. 
 
 O Lamb of God ! who takest guilt away, 
 
 Behold, I am so weary of my sins ; 
 
 I bring the crimson things and lay them down 
 At Thy dear feet. Speak gently unto me 
 From out the multitude of Thy most sweet 
 And tender mercies ; let me hear Thee say, 
 
 * O thou afflicted, and not comforted, 
 
 Thou restless, tossing one, behold I lay 
 Thy stones with fairest colours, and I make 
 Of sapphires thy foundations ; from henceforth 
 The beauty of the Lord thy God be thine 1 ‘ 
 
 So shall the mystery 
 Of Thy glad peace reveal itself to me, 
 
 And ‘ white as snow ’ my heart’s guest-chamber be 
 For Christ, its Kingly Guest! — Neil Macgregor. 
 
 3106. SKULL. The 
 
 Remove yon skull from out the scatter d heaps; 
 Is that a temple where a God may dwell ? 
 
 Why, even the worm at last disdains her shatter’d cell! 
 Look on its broken arch, its ruin’d wall, 
 
 Its chambers desolate, and portals foul: 
 
 Yes, this was once ambition’s airy hall, 
 
 The dome of thought, the palace of the soul: 
 Behold through each lack-lustre, eyeless hole 
 The gay recess of wisdom and of wit, 
 
 And passion’s port, that never brook d control: 
 Can all saint, sage, or sophist ever writ, 
 
 People this lonely tower, this tenement refit ? 
 
 Byron. 
 
 3107. SLANDER : deadly. 
 
 ’Tis slander, 
 
 Whose edge is sharper than the sword ; whose tongue 
 Out-venoms all the worms of Nile.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Oh many a shaft at random sent 
 Finds mark the archer never meant. 
 
 And many a word at random spoken 
 
 May soothe or wound the heart that’s broken. 
 
 Scott. 
 
 A whisper woke the air — 
 
 A soft light tone and low, 
 
 Yet barb’d with shame and woe,— 
 
 Now, might it only perish there ! 
 
 N or farther go. 
 
 Ah me ! a quick and eager ear 
 
 Caught up the little meaning sound ! 
 Another voice has breathed it clear, 
 
 And so it wander’d round 
 From ear to lip—from lip to ear— 
 
 Until it reach’d a gentle heart, 
 
 And that—it broke—Mrs Osgood. 
 
 3108. SLANDER: despised. 
 
 Slander meets no regard from noble minds ; 
 Only the base believe, what the base only utter. 
 
 Belter. 
 
 3109. SLANDER. Methods of 
 
 The hint malevolent, the look oblique, 
 
 The obvious satire, or implied dislike. 
 
 The sneer equivocal, the harsh reply, 
 
 And all the cruel language of the eye ; 
 
 The artful injury, whose venom’d dart 
 Scarce wounds the hearing, while it stabs the heart 
 The guarded phrase whose meaning kills, yet, told, 
 The list’ner wonders how you thought it cold ; 
 These, and a thousand griefs minute as these. 
 Corrode our comfort, and destroy our ease. 
 
 Hannah More. 
 
 3110. SLANDER: our common danger. 
 
 Whose breath 
 
 Rides on the posting wind, and doth belie 
 
 All corners of the world; kings, queens, and states. 
 
 Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave, 
 
 The viperous slander enters.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Nor might nor greatness in mortality 
 Can censure ’scape ; back-wounding calumny 
 The whitest virtue strikes : what king so strong. 
 Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue ? 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 It is a busy talking world. 
 In which licentious breath blows, like the wind. 
 As freely on the palace as the cottage.— Rowe. 
 
 3111. SLANDER. Passion for 
 
 The world with calumny abounds, 
 
 The whitest virtue slander wounds ; 
 
SLANDER 
 
 602 
 
 SLAVERY 
 
 There are whose joy is night and day 
 To talk a character away : 
 
 Eager from rout to rout they haste. 
 
 To blast the generous and the chaste, 
 
 And hunting reputation down, 
 
 Proclaim their triumphs through the town. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 There is a lust in man no charm can tame, 
 
 Of loudly publishing his neighbour’s shame ; 
 On eagle’s wings immortal scandals fly; 
 
 While virtuous actions are but born and die. 
 
 Harvey. 
 
 3112. SLANDER. Shamefulness of 
 
 O THOU, from whose rank breath nor sex can save, 
 N01 sacred virtue, nor the powerless grave, 
 
 Felon unwhipp’d! than whom in yonder cells 
 
 Full many a groaning wretch less guilty dwells,_ 
 
 Blush, if of honest blood a drop remains, 
 
 To steal its lonely way along thy veins j 
 Blush, if the bronze long harden’d on thy cheek 
 Has left one spot where that poor drop can speak; 
 Blush to be branded with the Slanderer’s name, 
 And, though thou dread’st not sin, at least dread 
 shame. — Sprague. 
 
 I 
 
 3113- SLANDER. Sinfulness of 
 
 Those who murder fame 
 Kill more than life destroyers.— Savage. 
 
 3114* SLANDER. Treatment of 
 
 If I m traduced by tongues which neither know 
 My faculties nor person, yet will be 
 The chronicles of my doing, let me say 
 ’Tis but the fate of place, and the rough brake 
 That virtue must go through. —Shakespeare. 
 
 Whence proceeds this weight we lay 
 On what detracting people say ? 
 
 Their utmost malice cannot make 
 Your head, or tooth, or finger ache, 
 
 Nor spoil your shape, distort your face, 
 
 Or put one feature out of place.— Swift. 
 
 If a liar accuseth thee of evil, be not swift to answer: 
 Yea, rather give him license for a while; it shall be 
 thine honour afterward : 
 
 Never yet was calumny] engendered, but good men 
 speedily discerned it, - 
 
 And innocence hath burst from its injustice as the 
 green world rolling out of chaos. 
 
 What though still the wicked scoff, this also turneth 
 to his praise; 
 
 Did ye never hear that censure of the bad is buttress 
 to a good man’s glory ? 
 
 Y hat if the ignorant still hold out, obstinate in un¬ 
 kind judgment— 
 
 Ignorance and calumny are paired ; we affirm by two 
 negations; 
 
 Let them stand round about, pushing at the column 
 in a circle, 
 
 For all their toil and wasted strength, the foolish do 
 but prop it. 
 
 And note thou this; in the secret of their hearts, 
 they feel the taunt is false, 
 
 And cannot help but reverence the courage that 
 walketh amid calumnies unanswering : 
 
 He standeth as a gallant chief, unheeding shot or 
 shell; 
 
 He trusteth in God, his Judge ; neither arrows nor 
 the pestilence shall harm him .—Ttcpper. 
 
 3115- SLANDERERS. 
 
 They are the moths and scarabs of the state, 
 
 The bane of empires, and the dregs of courts. 
 
 Who, to endear themselves to an employment, 
 
 Care not whose fame they blast, whose life they en¬ 
 danger ; 
 
 And, under a disguised and cobweb mask 
 Of love unto their sovereign, vomit forth 
 Their own prodigious malice ; a pretending 
 To be the props and columns of their safety, 
 
 The guards unto his person and his peace, 
 
 Disturb it most, with their false, lapwing cries. 
 
 Ben Jonson. 
 
 Soft buzzing slander; silky moths, that eat 
 An honest name.— Thomson. 
 
 3116. SLAVERY. British 
 
 Slaves cannot breathe in England ’—a proud boast! 
 And yet a mockery! if from coast to coast, 
 
 Though fetter’d slave be none, her floors and soil 
 Groan underneath a weight of slavish toil, 
 
 For the poor many, measured out by rules 
 Fetch’d with cupidity from heartless schools, 
 
 That to an Idol, falsely called ‘ the wealth 
 Of Nations,’ sacrifice a People’s health, 
 
 Body, and mind, and soul, a thirst so keen 
 Is ever urging on the vast machine 
 Of sleepless Labour, ’mid whose dizzy wheels 
 The power least prized is that which thinks and feels. 
 
 Wordsworth . 
 
 3117* SLAVERY. Complicity in 
 
 Hark ! heard ye not that piercing cry, 
 
 Which shook the waves and rent the sky ? 
 
 E’en now, e’en now on yonder western shores. 
 
 Weeps pale despair, and writhing anguish roars ; 
 
SLAVERY 
 
 SLA VES 
 
 603 
 
 E’en now, in Afric’s groves, with hideous yell, 
 
 Fierce Slavery stalks, and slips the dogs of hell; 
 From vale to vale the gathering cries rebound, 
 
 And sable nations tremble at the sound ! 
 
 Ye bands of senators ! whose suffrage sways 
 Britannia’s realms, whom either Ind obeys ; 
 
 Who right the injured, and reward the brave, 
 
 Stretch your strong arm, for ye have power to save! 
 Throned in the vaulted heart, his dread resort, 
 Inexorable Conscience holds his court; 
 
 With still small voice the plots of guilt alarms, 
 
 Bares his mask’d brow, his lifted hand disaims , 
 
 But wrapt in night, with terrors all his own, 
 
 He speaks in thunder when the deed is done. 
 
 Hear him, ye senates ! hear this truth sublime, 
 
 He who permits oppression, shares the crime ! 
 
 Darwin. 
 
 3118. SLAVERY: debases. 
 
 The conquer’d also, and enslaved by war, 
 
 Shall, with their freedom lost, their virtue lose. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 Ill-fated race ! the softening arts of peace ; 
 
 Whate’er the humanizing muses teach ; 
 
 The godlike wisdom of the temper’d breast, 
 Progressive truth, the patient force of thought ; 
 Investigation calm, whose silent powers 
 Command the world ; the light that leads to heaven ; 
 Kind, equal rule, the government of laws, 
 
 And all-protecting freedom, which alone 
 Sustain the name and dignity of man : 
 
 These are not theirs.— Thomsoji. 
 
 3119. SLAVERY. Excuses for 
 
 Canst thou, and honour’d with a Christian name, 
 Buy what is woman-boro, and feel no shame ? 
 
 Trade in the blood of innocence, and plead 
 Expedience as a warrant for the deed ? 
 
 So may the wolf, whom famine has made bold 
 To quit the forest and invade the fold ; 
 
 So may the ruffian, who with ghostly glide, 
 
 Dagger in hand, steals close to your bed-side ; 
 
 Not he, but his emergence forced the door ; 
 
 Pie found it inconvenient to be poor.— Cozvper. 
 
 3120. SLAVERY. Inhumanity of 
 
 Oh for a lodge in some vast wilderness, 
 
 Some boundless contiguity of shade, 
 
 Where rumour of oppression and deceit, 
 
 Of unsuccessful or successful war, 
 
 Might never reach me more. My ear is pain’d, 
 
 My soul is sick, with every day’s report 
 Of wrong and outrage with which earth is fill’d. 
 
 There is no flesh in man’s obdurate heart, 
 
 It does not feel for man ; the natural bond 
 Of brotherhood is sever’d as the flax 
 That falls asunder at the touch of fire. 
 
 He finds his fellow guilty of a skin 
 Not colour’d like his own.; and having power 
 To enforce the wrong, for such a worthy cause 
 Dooms and devotes him as his lawful prey. 
 
 Lands intersected by a narrow frith 
 Abhor each other. Mountains interposed 
 Make enemies of nations, who had else 
 Like kindred drops been mingled into one. 
 
 Thus man devotes his brother, and destroys ; 
 
 And, worse than all, and most to be deplored, 
 
 As human nature’s broadest, foulest blot, 
 
 Chains him, and tasks him, and exacts his sweat 
 With stripes, that Mercy, with a bleeding heart. 
 Weeps when she sees inflicted on a beast. 
 
 Then what is man ? And what man, seeing this, ] 
 And having human feelings, does not blush. 
 
 And hang his head, to think himself a man ? 
 
 I would not have a slave to till my ground, 
 
 To carry me, to fan me while I sleep, 
 
 And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth 
 That sinews, bought and sold, have ever earn d. 
 
 No : dear as freedom is, and in my heart’s 
 Just estimation prized above all price, 
 
 I would much rather be myself the slave, 
 
 And wear the bonds, than fasten them on him. 
 
 Cowper . 
 
 3121. SLAVERY. Misery of 
 
 We and our fathers, from our childhood bred 
 To watch the cruel victor’s eye, to dread 
 The arbitrary lash, to bend, to grieve, 
 
 (Outcast of mortal race !) can we conceive 
 Image of aught delightful, soft, or gay ? 
 
 Alas! when we have toil’d the longsome day. 
 The fullest bliss our hearts aspire to know 
 Is but some interval from active woe, 
 
 In broken rest and startling sleep to mourn, 
 
 Till morn, the tyrant, and the scourge, return. 
 
 Prior. 
 
 War, famine, pest, volcano, storm, and fire, 
 Intestine broils, Oppression, with her heart 
 Wrapt up in triple brass, besiege mankind. 
 
 God’s image disinherited of day, 
 
 Here, plunged in mines, forgets a sun was made 
 There, beings deathless as their haughty lord, 
 Are hammer’d to the galling oar for life ; 
 
 And plough the winter’s wave, and reap despair. 
 
 Young. 
 
 3122. SLAVES. 
 
 They are slaves who will not choose 
 Hatred, scoffing, and abuse, 
 
SLEEP 
 
 604 
 
 SLEEP 
 
 Rather than in silence shrink 
 From the truth they needs must think ; 
 They are slaves who dare not be 
 In the right with two or three. 
 
 3123. SLEEP. Benefits of 
 
 Sleep that knits up the ravell’d sleeve of care, 
 
 The death of each day’s life, sore labour’s bath, 
 Balm of hurt minds, great nature’s second course, 
 Chief nourisher in life’s feast.— Shakespeare. 
 
 O sacred rest ! 
 
 O peace of mind ! repairer of decay, 
 
 Whose balms renew the limbs to labours of the day. 
 
 Dryden . 
 
 Man’s rich restorative ; his balmy bath, 
 
 That supples, lubricates, and keeps in plav 
 The various movements of this nice machine, 
 Which asks such frequent periods of repair. 
 
 When tired with vain rotations of the day, 
 
 Sleep winds us up for the succeeding dawn : 
 
 Fresh we spin on, till sickness clogs our wheels, 
 Or death quite breaks the spring, and motion ends. 
 
 Yount?. 
 
 3124. SLEEP : cannot be commanded. 
 
 Sleep is no servant of the will; 
 
 It has caprices of its own : 
 
 When courted most, it lingers still; 
 When most pursued, ’tis swiftly gone. 
 
 3125. SLEEP. Conditions of 
 
 Baivj'ing. 
 
 King Henry. O Sleep ! O gentle Sleep ! 
 Nature’s soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, 
 
 That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down. 
 And steep my senses in forgetfulness ? 
 
 Why rather, Sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs. 
 
 Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee, 
 
 And hush’d with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber, 
 Than in the perfumed chambers of the great, 
 
 Under the canopies of costly state, 
 
 And lull’d with sounds of sweetest melody ? 
 
 O thou dull god ! why liest thou with the vile. 
 
 In loathsome beds, and leav’st the kingly couch, 
 
 A watch-case, or a common ’larum-bell ? 
 
 Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast 
 Seal up the ship-boy’s eyes, and rock his brains 
 In cradle of the rude imperious surge. 
 
 And in the visitation of the winds, 
 
 Who take the ruffian billows by the top, 
 
 Culling their monstrous heads, and hanging them, 
 M'ith deafening clamours, in the slippery clouds, 
 That, with the hurly, death itself awakes? 
 
 Canst thou, O partial Sleep ! give thy rejrose 
 
 To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude ; 
 
 And in the calmest and most stillest night, 
 
 With all appliances and means to boot, 
 
 Deny it to a king ? Then, happy low, lie down, 
 Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 3126. SLEEP. Gift of 
 
 Of all the thoughts of God that are 
 Borne inward unto souls afar, 
 
 Among the Psalmist’s music deep. 
 
 Now tell me if that any is 
 
 For gift or grace surpassing this— 
 
 ‘ He giveth His beloved sleep ’ ? 
 
 W hat would we give to our beloved ? 
 
 The hero’s heart, to be unmoved ; 
 
 The poet’s star-tuned harp, to sweep ; 
 
 The patriot’s voice, to teach and rouse ; 
 
 The monarch’s crown, tc light the brows ? 
 
 • ‘ He giveth His beloved sleep.’ 
 
 What do we give to our beloved ? 
 
 A little faith, all undisproved; 
 
 A little dust, to ovenveep ; 
 
 And bitter memories, to make 
 The whole earth blasted for our sake : 
 
 ‘ He giveth His beloved sleep.’ 
 
 ‘ Sleep soft, beloved,! ’ we sometimes say. 
 
 But have no tune to charm away 
 
 Sad dreams that through the eyelids creep j 
 But never doleful dream again 
 Shall break the happy slumber when 
 ‘ He giveth His beloved sleep.’ 
 
 O earth, so full of dreary noises! 
 
 O men, with wailing in your voices! 
 
 O delved gold the wailers heap ! 
 
 O strife, O curse, that o’er it fall! 
 
 God strikes a silence through you all, 
 
 And ‘giveth His beloved sleep.’ 
 
 9, 
 
 His dews drop mutely on the hill, 
 
 His cloud above it saileth still, 
 
 Though on its slope men sow and reap; 
 More softly than the dew is shed. 
 
 Or cloud is floated overhead, 
 
 ‘ Pie giveth His beloved sleep.’ 
 
 For me, my heart, that erst did go 
 Most like a tired child at a show, 
 
 That sees through tears the mummers leap, 
 Would now its wearied vision close, 
 
 W ould child-like on His love repose 
 W ho ‘ giveth His beloved sleep. 
 
SLEEP 
 
 605 
 
 SLEEP 
 
 Yea! men may wonder while they scan 
 A living, thinking, feeling man 
 In such a rest his heart to keep ! 
 
 But angels say—and through the woul, 
 
 I ween, their blessed smile is heard— 
 
 ‘ He giveth His beloved sleep.’ 
 
 Mrs Browning. 
 
 And as gently lay mine head 
 On my grave, as now my bed. 
 
 Howe’er I rest, great God, let me 
 Awake again at last with Thee ; 
 
 And, thus assured, behold, I lie 
 Securely, or to wake or die. 
 
 Sir Thomas Broivnc. 
 
 3127. SLEEP. Healthful 
 
 3130. SLEEP. Quiet essential to 
 
 His sleep 
 
 Was airy, light, from pure digestion bred, 
 
 And temperate vapours bland, which th only sound 
 
 Of leaves and running rills (Aurora’s fan), 
 
 Lightly dispersed, and the shrill matin song 
 Of birds on every bough.— Milton. 
 
 3128. SLEEP : impartial. 
 
 Man o’erlabour’d with his being’s strife, 
 
 Shrinks to that sweet forgetfulness of life : 
 
 There lie love’s feverish hope, and cunning’s guile, 
 Hate’s working brain, and lull d ambition s wile ; 
 O’er each vain eye oblivion’s pinions wave, 
 
 And quench’d existence crouches in a grave. 
 
 What better name may slumber’s bed become ? 
 Night’s sepulchre, the universal home, 
 
 Where weakness, strength, vice, virtue, sunk supine, 
 Alike in naked helplessness recline.— Byron. 
 
 Come sleep, O sleep, the certain knot of peace, 
 
 The baiting-place of wit, the balm of woe ; 
 
 The poor man’s wealth, the prisoner’s release, 
 
 Th’ indifferent judge between the high and low. 
 
 Sir P. Sidney . 
 
 3129. SLEEP. Meditation before 
 
 THE night is come : like to the day, 
 
 Depart not Thou, great God, away. 
 
 Let not my sin, black as the night, 
 
 Eclipse the lustre of Thy light. 
 
 Keep still in my horizon : to me 
 The sun makes not the day, but Thee. 
 
 Thou, -whose nature cannot sleep, 
 
 *On my temples sentry keep ; 
 
 Guard me ’gainst those watchful foes 
 Whose eyes are open while mine close : 
 
 Let no dreams my head infest, 
 
 But such as Jacob’s temples blest. 
 
 While I do rest, my soul advance: 
 
 Make my sleep a holy trance, 
 
 That I may, my rest being wrought, 
 
 Awake unto some holy thought, 
 
 And with as active vigour run 
 
 9 
 
 My course, as doth the nimble sun. 
 
 Sleep is a death : oh, make me try, 
 
 By sleeping, what it is to die ! 
 
 The Halcyon Sleep will never build his nest 
 In any stormy breast. 
 
 5 Tis not enough that he does find 
 Clouds and darkness in the mind : 
 
 Darkness but half his work will do : 
 
 ’Tis not enough : he must find quiet too. 
 
 Horace y tr. by Cowley. 
 
 Tired Nature’s sweet restorer, balmy Sleep ! 
 
 He, like the world, his ready visit pays 
 Where fortune smiles ; the wretched he forsakes. 
 Swift on his downy pinion flies from woe, 
 
 And lights on lids unsullied with a tear. 
 
 Young. 
 
 3131. SLEEP. Recuperation of 
 
 With grief and blows when worn and torn. 
 
 If sleep we may, we wake at morn 
 Refresh’d in every nerve and thought, 
 
 Because this marvel hath been wrought; 
 
 The instant that asleep we fall, 
 
 The soul escapes its fleshly pall, 
 
 And is absorb’d in heaven from this, 
 
 To lave with love, and bathe in bliss 
 Its stiffen’d limbs and flagging powers 
 Through all the nightly slumberous hours; 
 
 And when returning morn arrives, 
 
 It fresh from God's embrace revives. 
 
 •. Oriental , tr. by IV. R. Alger. 
 
 3132. SLEEP : releases from care and sorrow. 
 
 Sleep is pain’s easiest salve, and doth fulfil 
 All offices of death, except to kill.— Donne. 
 
 Why dost thou shake thy leaden sceptre ? go, 
 Bestow thy poppy upon wakeful woe, 
 
 Sickness and sorrow, whose pale lids ne’er know 
 Thy downy fingers : dwell upon their eyes ; 
 
 Shut in their tears, shut out their miseries. 
 
 Crashaw. 
 
 I low happy is that balm to wretches, sleep ! 
 No cares perplex them for their future state, 
 And fear of death thus dies in senseless sleep ; 
 Unruly love is this way lull’d to rest; 
 
 And injured honour, when redress is lost, 
 
 Is no way solved but this.— Beaumont. 
 
SLEEP 
 
 606 
 
 SLOTH 
 
 All birds and beasts lie hush’d ; sleep steals away 
 The wild desires of men and toils of day, 
 
 And brings, descending through the silent air, 
 
 A sweet forgetfulness of human care.— Pope. 
 
 In thee, oppressors soothe their angry brow ; 
 
 In thee, th’ oppress’d forget tyrannic power ; 
 
 In thee. 
 
 The wretch condemn’d is equal to his judge, 
 And the sad lover to his cruel fair ; 
 
 Nay, all the shining glories men pursue, 
 
 When thou art wanted, are but empty noise. 
 
 Steele. 
 
 Kind sleep affords 
 
 The only boon the. wretched mind can feel,— 
 
 A momentary respite from despair.— Murphy. 
 
 Kest for the weary—freshness, strength, and rest: 
 O Sleep ! thy balm is to the troubled breast 
 As time to sorrow. Gently dost thou take 
 The arrows from the heart about to break, 
 
 And with thy stealthy step and quiet eye. 
 
 Around thee couch in grateful ministry, 
 
 Thy form, as noiseless as the foot of love. 
 
 Doth like the spirit of an angel move.— Morris. 
 
 Oh ! thou best comforter of that sad heart. 
 
 Whom fortune’s spite assails ; come, gentle Sleep, 
 The weary mourner soothe ! For well the art 
 Thou know’st in soft forgetfulness to steep 
 The eyes which sorrow taught to watch and weep ; 
 Let blissful visions now her spirit cheer, 
 
 Or lull her cares to peace in slumbers deep, 
 
 Till from fatigue refresh’d and anxious fear, 
 
 Hope, like the morning star, once more shall re¬ 
 appear.— Mrs Tighe. 
 
 3133. SLEEP : should not be unduly prolonged. 
 
 There should be hours for necessities, 
 
 Not for delights ; times to repair our nature 
 With comforting repose, and not for us 
 To waste these times.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Is there aught in sleep can charm the wise ? 
 
 To lie in dead oblivion, losing half 
 The fleeting moments of too short a life ; 
 
 Fatal extinction of th’ enlighten’d soul! 
 
 Or else to fevering vanity alive, 
 
 Wilder’d, and tossing through distemper’d dreams ? 
 Who would in such a gloomy state remain 
 Longer than nature craves, when every muse 
 And every blooming pleasure wait without, 
 
 To bless the wildly devious morning walk ? 
 
 Thomson. [ 
 
 3134. SLEEP : the image of death. 
 
 How wonderful is Death ! 
 
 Death and his brother Sleep.— Shelley. 
 
 3135. SLEEP : the reward of labour. 
 
 Weariness 
 
 Can snore upon the flint, when restive Sloth 
 Finds the down pillow hard.— Shakespeare. 
 
 So sleeps the sea-boy on the cloudy mast, 
 
 Safe as a drowsy Triton rock’d with storms, 
 While tossing princes wake in beds of down. 
 
 Lee. 
 
 3136. SLEEP. Troubled ^ 
 
 He sleeps, if it be sleep, this starting trance, 
 Whose feverish tossings and deep-mutter’d groans 
 Do prove the soul shares not the body’s rest. 
 
 Maturin. 
 Not sleep itself 
 
 Is ever balmy ; for the shadowy dream 
 Oft bears substantial woe.— Smollett. 
 
 My slumbers—if I slumber—are not sleep, 
 
 But a continuance of enduring thought, 
 
 Which then I can resist not.— Byron. 
 
 Thou hast been call’d, O Sleep ! the friend of woe 
 But ’tis the happy that have call’d thee so. 
 
 Southey. 
 
 3137. SLOTH. 
 
 He that outlives Nestor, and appears 
 To have pass’d the date of grey Methusalem’s years. 
 If he his life to sloth and sin doth give, 
 
 I say he only was, he did not live. — Randolph. 
 
 Two principles from the beginning strove 
 In human nature, still dividing man,— 
 
 Sloth and activity ; the lust of praise, 
 
 And indolence that rather wish’d to sleep. 
 •••••• 
 
 Sloth lay till mid-day, turning on his couch 
 Like' ponderous door upon its weary hinge. 
 
 And having roll’d him out with much ado, 
 
 And many a dismal sigh, and vain attempt. 
 
 He saunter’d out, accoutred carelessly,— 
 
 With half-oped, misty, unobservant eye, 
 Somniferous, that weigh’d the object down 
 On which its burden hung,—an hour or two, 
 Then with a groan retired to rest again. 
 
 The one, whatever deed had been achieved, 
 Thought it too little, and too small the praise; 
 The other tried to think, for thinking so 
 Answer’d his purpose best, that what of great 
 Mankind could do had been already done ; 
 
 And therefore laid him calmly down to sleep. 
 
 Pollok. 
 
 M • 
 
SMILES 
 
 607 
 
 SODOM 
 
 3138. SMILES. 
 
 Full many a stoic eye and aspect stem 
 
 Mask hearts where grief hath little left to leam ; 
 
 And many a withering thought lies hid, not lost, 
 
 In smiles that least befit who wear them most. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 As a beam o’er the face of the waters may glow, 
 While the tide runs in darkness and coldness below, 
 So the cheek may be tinged with a warm sunny smile, 
 Though the cold heart to ruin runs darkly the while. 
 
 Moore. 
 
 3139. SOCIAL PRAYER. 
 
 * Within an upper chamber, 
 
 At evening of the day, 
 
 We gather’d for an hour, 
 
 And one said, ‘ Let us pray. 7 
 
 We came, with stains of conflict. 
 
 With dust of earthly care, 
 
 Our hearts were spent and weary. 
 
 Till Jesus met us there. 
 
 We heard no blare of trumpets. 
 
 We saw no blaze of light, 
 
 As silently the Master 
 
 Came through the summer night. 
 
 Yet was that upper chamber 
 With love Divinely fill’d; 
 
 Our hearts grew strong with gladness. 
 
 In that dear presence thrill’d. 
 
 The air was soft with blessing,. 
 
 And as we sang the hymn. 
 
 Its notes were lifted higher 
 By listening seraphim. 
 
 We told our want and yearning. 
 
 We told our lonely pain, 
 
 Ere from that upper chamber 
 We sought the world again. 
 
 But sweet and close and tender. 
 
 In every tranquil breast, 
 
 We bore a thought of Jesus, 
 
 Our own, our peace, our rest. 
 
 We might have wish’d to linger 
 A little longer there ; 
 
 But life is full of duty, 
 
 And work is wrought by prayer. 
 
 To-day, through strife and passion, 
 
 Our eyes shall look above, 
 
 Whei*e, in an upper chamber. 
 
 Abides the Lord we love. 
 
 Margaret E. Songster. 
 
 3140. SOCIETY. Benefit of 
 
 Without good company, all dainties 
 
 Lose their true relish, and, like painted grapes, 
 
 Are only seen, not tasted.— Massinger. 
 
 Man, like the generous vine, supported lives : 
 
 The strength he gains is from th’ embrace he gives. 
 On their own axes as the planets run, 
 
 Yet make at once their circle round the sun, 
 
 So two consistent motions act the soul, 
 
 And one regards itself, and one the whole : 
 
 Thus God and nature link’d the general frame, 
 
 And bade self-love and social be the same.— Pope, 
 
 Man in society is like a flower 
 Blown in its native bed: ’tis there alone 
 His faculties, expanded in full bloom, 
 
 Shine out—there only reach their proper use. 
 
 Cowper.. 
 
 3141. SOCIETY. Choosing 
 
 Better where awful mountains rise 
 With raging tigers dwell, 
 
 Than share the halls of Paradise 
 
 With men who merit hell. — Oicnital. 
 
 3142. SOCIETY. Effect of worldly 
 
 Society itself, which should create 
 Kindness, destroys what little we had got: 
 
 To feel for none is the true social art 
 Of the world’s stoics,—men without a heart. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 3143. SODOM. Destruction of 
 
 Get ye up from the wrath of God s terrible day ! 
 Ungirded, unsandall’d, arise, and away ! 
 
 ’Tis the vintage of blood, ’tis the fulness of time, 
 
 And vengeance shall gather the harvest of crime ! 
 
 The warning was spoken ; the righteous had gone, 
 And the proud ones of Sodom were feasting alone; 
 All gay was the banquet; the revel was long, 
 
 With the pouring of wine and the breathing of song. 
 
 ’Twas an evening of beauty ; the air was perfume, 
 The earth was all greenness, the trees were all bloom; 
 And softly the delicate viol was heard, 
 
 Like the murmur of love, or the notes of a bird. 
 
 And beautiful maidens moved down in the dance, 
 With the magic of motion and sunshine of glance*; 
 And white arms wreathed lightly, and tiesses fell 
 free 
 
 As the plumage of birds in some tropical tice. 
 
 Where the shrines of foul idols were lighted on high, 
 And wantonness tempted the lust of the eye ; 
 
SOLDIERS 
 
 608 
 
 SOLITUDE 
 
 Midst rites of obsceneness, strange, loathsome, ab- 
 horr’d, 
 
 The blasphemer scoff’d at the name of the Lord. 
 
 Hark ! the growl of the thunder—the quaking of 
 earth ! 
 
 Woe, woe to the worship, and woe to the mirth ! 
 
 The black sky was open’d—there’s flame in the air— 
 The red arm of vengeance is lifted and bare ! 
 
 Then the shriek of the dying rose wild where the 
 song 
 
 And the low tone of love had been whisper’d along ; 
 For the fierce flames went lightly o’er palace and 
 bower, 
 
 Like the red tongues of demons, to blast and devour ! 
 
 Down—down on the fallen the red ruin rain’d, 
 
 And the reveller sank with his wine-cup undrain’d 
 The foot of the dancer, the music’s loved thrill, 
 
 And the shout and the laughter grew suddenly still. 
 
 The last throb of anguish was fearfully given ; 
 
 The last eye glared forth in its madness on heaven ! 
 The last groan of horror rose wildly and vain, 
 
 And death brooded over the pride of the plain ! 
 
 Whittier. 
 
 3144. SOLDIERS. 
 
 Of human glory, and for glory done 
 Of triumph, to be styled great conquerors,' 
 
 Patrons of mankind, gods, and sons of gods ; 
 Destroyers rightlier call’d and plagues of men. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 I hate the camp, 
 
 I hate its noise and stiff parade, its blank 
 And empty forms, and stately courtesy, 
 
 Where between bows and blbws, a smile and stab, 
 There’s scarce a moment. Soldiers always live 
 In idleness or peril: both are bad.— Proctor. 
 
 There shall they rot—ambition’s honour’d fools ! 
 
 Yes, honour decks the turf that wraps their clay ! 
 Vain sophistry ! in these behold the tools, 
 
 The broken tools, that tyrants cast away 
 By myriads, when they dare to pave their way 
 With human hearts—to what?—a dream alone. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 3 r 45 - SOLITARY. Christ’s sympathy with the 
 
 O Tiiou who diedst to give us life, 
 
 Full well to Thee is known 
 The cross and all the inner strife 
 Of those who Aveep alone, 
 
 And ’neath their burden well-nigh faint; 
 
 The aching heart’s unspoken plaint 
 Finds echo in Thine own. — Gcrhardt. 
 
 3146. SOLITUDE. Benefits of 
 
 Solitude is sometimes best society, 
 
 And short retirement urges sweet return. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 Wisdom’s self 
 Oft seeks to sweet retired solitude : 
 
 She plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings. 
 That in the various bustle of resort 
 Were all too ruffled.— Milton. 
 
 3147. SOLITUDE : delightful only to the good. 
 
 Ah ! wretched and too solitary he 
 Who loves not his own company! 
 
 He’ll feel the weight of it many a day. 
 Unless he calls in sin or vanity 
 To help to bear it away. — Cowley. 
 
 3148. SOLITUDE. Longing for 
 
 I want to be alone, to find some shade, 
 
 Some solitary gloom ; there to shake off 
 These harsh tumultuous cares that vex my life,— 
 This sick ambition on itself recoiling ; 
 
 And there to listen to the gentle voice, 
 
 1 he sigh of peace—something, I know not what, 
 That whispers transport to my heart. — Thomson. 
 
 3149* SOLITUDE : no real relief in sorrow. 
 
 If solitude succeed to grief, 
 
 Release from pain is slight relief; 
 
 The vacant bosom’s wilderness 
 Might thank the pain that made it less. 
 
 We loathe what none are left to share ;— 
 E’en bliss ’twere woe alone to bear : 
 
 The heart once left thus desolate 
 
 Must fly at last, for ease, to hate.— Byron. 
 
 3150. SOLITUDE. Painfulness of 
 
 In solitude 
 
 What happiness? Who can enjoy alone? 
 
 Or, all enjoying, what contentment find? 
 
 Milton. 
 
 Unhappy he ! who from the first of joys, 
 
 Society, cut off, is left alone 
 
 Amid this world of death. — Thomson. 
 
 O Solitude ! where are the charms 
 That sages have seen in thy face ? 
 
 Better dwell in the midst of alarms 
 Than reign in this horrible place. 
 
 I am out of humanity’s reach, 
 
 I must finish my journey alone ; 
 
 Never hear the sweet music of speech : 
 
 I start at the sound of my own.— Co-wfer. 
 
f 
 
 609 
 
 SOLITUDE 
 
 SOLITUDE 
 
 For solitude, however some may rave, 
 
 Seeming a sanctuary, proves a grave ; 
 
 A sepulchre in which the living lie, 
 
 Where all good qualities grow sick and die. 
 
 I praise the Frenchman ; his remark was shrewd: 
 ‘ How sweet, how passing sweet, is solitude ! 
 
 ' But grant me still a friend in my retreat, 
 
 Whom I may whisper, “ Solitude is sweet! ” ’ 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 The thought, 
 
 The deadly feel of solitude.— Keats. 
 
 3151. SOLITUDE. Pleasures of 
 
 How use doth breed a habit in a man ! 
 
 The shadowy desert, unfrequented woods, 
 
 I better brook than flourishing peopled towns : 
 There I can sit alone, unseen of any, 
 
 And to the nightingale’s complaining notes 
 Tune my distresses and record my woes. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 fhrice happy he who by some shady grove, 
 
 Far from the clamorous world, doth live his own ; 
 Though solitary, who is not alone, 
 
 $ut doth converse with that eternal love. 
 
 Oh how more sweet is bird’s harmonious moan, 
 
 Dr the hoarse sobbings of the widow’d dove, 
 
 Than those smooth whisperings near a prince’s 
 throne, 
 
 A’hich good make doubtful, do the ill approve! 
 
 Dh how more sweet is Zephyr’s wholesome breath, 
 And sighs embalm’d, which new-born flowers un¬ 
 fold, 
 
 rhan that applause vain honour doth bequeath ! 
 
 How sweet are streams to poison drank in gold ! 
 
 I he world is full of horror, troubles, slights ; 
 
 -Voods’ harmless shades have only true delights. 
 
 Drummond. 
 
 Peasant were many scenes, but most to me 
 The solitude of vast extent, untouch’d 
 !y hand of art; where Nature sow’d herself, 
 
 Ynd reap’d her crops; whose garments were the 
 clouds; 
 
 »Vhose minstrels, brooks ; whose lamps, the moon 
 and stars ; 
 
 A’hose organ-choir, the voice of many waters ; 
 
 >Vhose bouquets, morning dews ; whose heroes, 
 storms ; 
 
 .Vhose warriors, mighty winds; whose lovers, 
 flowers ; 
 
 •Vhose orators, the thunderbolts of God ; 
 
 •Vhose palaces, the everlasting hills ; 
 
 •Vhose ceiling, heaven’s unfathomable blue ; 
 
 \nd from whose rocky turrets battled high, 
 
 .’rospect immense spread out on all sides round ; 
 
 Lost now between the welkin and the main— 
 
 Now wall’d with hills that slept above the storm. 
 
 Pollok. 
 
 There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, 
 
 There is a rapture on the lonely shore, 
 
 There is society where none intrudes, 
 
 By the deep sea, and music in its roar : 
 
 I love not man the less, but nature more, 
 
 From these our interviews, in which I steal 
 From all I may be, or have been before, 
 
 To mingle with the universe, and feel 
 
 What I can ne’er express, yet cannot all conceal. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 3152. SOLITUDE : the nurse of woe. 
 
 The silent heart which grief assails 
 Treads soft and lonesome o’er the vales, 
 
 Sees daisies open, rivers run, 
 
 And seeks (as I have vainly done) 
 
 Amusing thought, but learns to know 
 That solitude’s the nurse of woe.— Parnell. 
 
 There oft is found an avarice in grief; 
 
 And the wan eye of sorrow loves to gaze 
 Upon its seci*et hoard of treasured woes 
 In pining solitude.— Mason. 
 
 3153. SOLITUDE. True 
 
 To sit on rocks, to muse o’er flood and fell, 
 
 To slowly trace the forest’s shady scene, 
 
 Where things that own not man’s dominion dwell, 
 And mortal foot hath ne’er or rarely been ; 
 
 To climb the trackless mountain all unseen, 
 
 With the wild flock that never needs a fold ; 
 
 Alone o’er steeps and foaming falls to lean— 
 
 This is not solitude ; ’tis but to hold 
 Converse with Nature’s charms, and view her stores 
 unroll'd. 
 
 But midst the crowd, the hum, the shock of men, 
 
 To hear, to see, to feel, and to possess, 
 
 And roam along, the world’s tired denizen, 
 
 With none who bless us, none whom we can bless ; 
 Minions of splendour shrinking from distress ! 
 None that, with kindred consciousness endued, 
 
 If we were not, would seem to smile the less 
 Of all that flatter’d, follow’d, sought, and sued ; 
 
 This is to be alone'; this, this is solitude !— Byron. 
 
 No : ’tis not here that solitude is known ; 
 Through the wide world he only is alone 
 Who lives not for another.— Rogers. 
 
 3154. SOLITUDE. Uses of 
 
 There have been holy men who hid themselves 
 Deep in the woody wileferness, and gave 
 
 39 
 
SON 
 
 610 
 
 SONGS 
 
 Their lives to thought and prayer, till they outlived 
 The generation born with them, nor seem’d 
 Less aged than the hoary trees and rocks 
 Around them ; and there have been holy men 
 Who deem’d it were not well to pass life thus. 
 
 But let me often to these solitudes 
 Retire, and in Thy presence reassure 
 My feeble virtue. Here its enemies, 
 
 The passions, at Thy plainer footsteps shrink 
 And tremble, and are still. O God ! when Thou 
 Dost scare the world with tempests, set on fire 
 The heavens with falling thunderbolts, or fill, 
 With all the waters of the firmament, 
 
 The swift dark whirlwind that uproots the woods 
 And drowns the villages ; when, at Thy call, 
 Uprises the great deep, and throws himself 
 Upon the continent, and overwhelms 
 Its cities—who forgets not, at the sight 
 Of these tremendous tokens of Thy power, 
 
 His pride, and lays his strifes and follies by? 
 
 Oh, from these sterner aspects of Thy face 
 Spare me and mine, nor let us need the wrath 
 Of the mad unchain’d elements to teach 
 Who rules them. Be it ours to meditate, 
 
 In these calm shades, Thy milder majesty, 
 
 And to the beautiful order of Thy works 
 Learn to conform the order of our lives. 
 
 For the company a man chooseth is a visible index of 
 his heart; 
 
 It is well to take hold on occasions, and render indi¬ 
 rect instruction; 
 
 It is better to teach upon a system, and reap the 
 wisdom of books: 
 
 The history of nations yieldeth grand outlines ; of 
 persons, minute details : 
 
 Poetry is polish to the mind, and high abstractions 
 cleanse it. 
 
 Consider the station of thy son, and breed him to 
 his fortune with judgment : 
 
 The rich may profit in much which would bring 
 small advantage to the poor. 
 
 But with all thy care for thy son, with all thy striv¬ 
 ings for his welfare, 
 
 Expect disappointment, and look for pain ; for he is 
 of an evil stock, and will grieve thee. — Tapper. 
 
 3156. SONG OF THE CRUSADERS. 
 
 Fairest Lord Jesus, 
 
 Ruler of nature ! 
 
 Jesus, of God and of Mary the Son ! 
 
 Thee will I cherish, 
 
 Thee wall I honour ; 
 
 Thee, my delight, and my glory, and crown ! 
 
 Bryant . 
 
 3155. SON. Training a 
 
 When his reason yieldeth fruit, make thy child thy 
 friend ; 
 
 For a filial friend is a double gain, a diamond set in 
 gold. 
 
 As an infant, thy mandate was enough, but now let 
 him see thy reasons ; 
 
 Confide in him, but with discretion; and bend a 
 willing ear to his questions. 
 
 More to thee than to all beside, let him owe good 
 counsel and good guidance ! 
 
 Let him feel his pursuits have an interest, more to 
 thee than to all beside. 
 
 Watch his native capacities; nourish that which 
 suiteth him the readiest; 
 
 And cultivate early those good inclinations wherein 
 thou fearest he is most lacking : 
 
 Is he phlegmatic and desponding ? let small successes 
 comfort his hope; 
 
 Is he obstinate and sanguine ? let petty crosses ac¬ 
 custom him to life : 
 
 Showeth he a sordid spirit ? be quick, and teach him 
 generosity : 
 
 Inclineth he to liberal excess? prove to him how 
 hard it is to earn. 
 
 Gather to thy hearth such friends as are worthy of 
 honour and attention, 
 
 Fair are the meadows, 
 
 Fairer the woodlands, 
 
 Robed in the flowery vesture of spring : 
 
 Jesus is fairer, 
 
 Jesus is purer, 
 
 Making my sorrowful spirit to sing ! 
 
 Fair is the moonshine, 
 
 Fairer the sunlight, 
 
 Than all the starry, celestial host: 
 fesus shines brighter, 
 
 Jesus shines purer, 
 
 Than all the angels that heaven can boast ! 
 
 3157. SONGS. Quieting 
 
 Come, read to me some poem, 
 
 Some simple and heartfelt lay 
 That shall soothe this restless feeling, 
 
 And banish the thoughts of day. 
 
 Such songs have power to quiet 
 The restless pulse of care, 
 
 And come like the benediction 
 That follows after prayer. 
 
 And the night shall be fill’d with music, 
 And the cares that infest the day 
 Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, 
 
 And as silently steal away.— Longfellcnu. 
 
SORROW 
 
 6ti 
 
 SORROW 
 
 3158. SORROW. Alleviations in 
 
 It easeth some, though none it ever cured, 
 
 To think their sorrows others have endured. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 To weep with them that weep, doth ease some deal. 
 But sorrow flouted at is double death.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Man is a child of sorrow, and this world 
 In which we breathe, hath cares enough to plague 
 us; 
 
 But it hath means withal to soothe those cares; 
 
 And he who meditates on others’ w T oes 
 
 Shall in that meditation lose his own.— Cumberland. 
 
 3159. SORROW. Benefits of 
 
 The tears w^e shed are not in vain ; 
 
 Nor worthless is the heavy strife ; 
 
 If, like the buried seed of grain, 
 
 They rise to renovated life. 
 
 It is through tears our spirits grow ; 
 
 ’Tis in the tempest souls expand, 
 
 If it but teaches us to go 
 
 To Him who holds it in His hand. 
 
 Oh, welcome, then, the stormy blast ! 
 
 Oh, welcome, then, the ocean’s roar ! 
 
 Ye only drive more sure and fast 
 
 Our trembling bark to heaven’s bright shore. 
 
 Up ham. 
 
 The storm that sways the forest trees, 
 
 Still roots them deeper in the soil; 
 
 So sorrow, conflict, care, and toil 
 Nurture our strength by slow degrees. 
 
 Dewart. 
 
 The good are better made by ill: 
 
 As odours crush’d are sweeter still. 
 
 Rogers. 
 
 3160. SORROW : Christ’s school. 
 
 I SAT in the school of sorrow ; 
 
 The Master was teaching there ; 
 
 But my eyes w r ere dim with weeping, 
 
 And my heart oppress’d with care. 
 
 Instead of looking upward, 
 
 And seeing His face Divine, 
 
 So full of tender compassion 
 For weary hearts like mine,— 
 
 I only thought of the burden, 
 
 The cross that before me lay, 
 
 The clouds that hung thick above me, 
 Dark’ning the light of day. 
 
 So I could not learn my lesson, 
 
 And say, ‘ Thy will be done ; ’ 
 
 And the Master came not near me, 
 
 As the leaden hours went on. 
 
 At last, in despair, I lifted 
 My streaming eyes above, 
 
 And I saw the Master watching, 
 
 With a look of pitying love. 
 
 To the cross before me He pointed, 
 
 And I thought I heard Him say, 
 
 ‘ My child, thou must take thy burden, 
 
 And learn thy task to-day. 
 
 * Not now may I tell the reason ; 
 
 ’Tis enough for thee to know, 
 
 That /, the Master, am teaching, 
 
 And appoint thee all thy woe.’ 
 
 Then, kneeling, the cross I lifted, 
 
 For one glimpse of that face Divine 
 Had given me strength to bear it, 
 
 And say, ‘ Thy will, not mine ! ’ 
 
 And so I learn’d my lesson, 
 
 And through the weary years 
 Id is helping hand sustain’d me, 
 
 And wiped away my tears. 
 
 And ever the glorious sunlight 
 
 From the heavenly home stream’d down, 
 Where the school-tasks are all ended, 
 
 And the cross is exchanged for the crown. 
 
 3161. SORROW. Comfort in 
 
 Do not cheat thy Heart, and tell her, 
 
 ‘ Grief will pass away, 
 
 Hope for fairer times in future, 
 
 And forget to-day.’ 
 
 Tell her, if you will, that sorrow 
 Need not come in vain ; 
 
 Tell her that the lesson taught her 
 Far outweighs the pain. 
 
 Adelaide A. Procter. 
 
 3162. SORROW : drives men to prayer. 
 
 ‘There is no God,’ the foolish saith, 
 
 But none, ‘ There is no sorrow ; ’ 
 
 And nature oft the cry of faith 
 In bitter need will borrow: 
 
 Eyes which the preacher could not school, 
 By wayside graves are raised, 
 
 And lips say, ‘ God be pitiful ! ’ 
 
 Who ne’er said, ‘ God be praised ! ’ 
 
 Be pitiful, O God l—Mrs Browning. 
 
SORROW 
 
 612 
 
 SORROW 
 
 3163. SORROW. Effects of 
 
 Sorrow treads heavily, and leaves behind 
 A deep impression, e’en when she departs : 
 While Joy trips by with steps light as the wind, 
 And scarcely leaves a trace upon our hearts 
 Of her faint foot-falls : only this is sure, 
 
 In this world nought, save misery, can endure. 
 
 Mrs Embury. 
 
 3164. SORROW. God the only Comforter in 
 
 In the dark days of grief, 
 
 When the dull hours drag wearily and slow, 
 
 When from the brimming eyes hot tears do flow, 
 Where, to find relief, 
 
 Shall the bruised spirit go ? 
 
 I see the world rush on ; 
 
 Each passion-stirr’d, intent to reach his end ; 
 
 All, nerved for life’s high prizes to contend, 
 
 Glide by me and are gone ; 
 
 No healing can they lend. 
 
 I look on Nature’s face, 
 
 The groves, and summer fields, and lawns, and 
 streams, 
 
 All beautiful as visions seen in dreams ; 
 
 But Nature’s smile and grace 
 To mock my anguish seems. 
 
 The silent woods I tread, 
 
 Where aisles invite with oak and beech o’erhung, 
 And sweet wild notes by many a bird are sung; 
 
 The still cool paths I thread. 
 
 But yet my heart is wrung. 
 
 To friendship’s breast I fly ; 
 
 Of its deep tenderness I own the power, 
 
 More gently throbs my brow for one short hour, 
 
 But ere my tears are dry 
 Falls a returning shower. 
 
 O Jesus, Thou hast wept; 
 
 When faithful hearts mourn’d o’er a brother dead, 
 For mortal griefs Thine own pure tears were shed ; 
 And ever Thou hast kept 
 Kind watch o’er hearts that bled. 
 
 Since Thou art Love Divine, 
 
 And deep compassions in Thy bosom glow, 
 
 This heart, whose anguish Thou alone canst know, 
 Would all to Thee resign, 
 
 And trust Thee, though laid low. 
 
 My spirit Thou canst heal; 
 
 Canst give me patience while I wait for light, 
 
 Bid cheerful day smile on my starless night, 
 
 And peace can make me feel 
 While yet tears dim my sight. 
 
 On Thee, oh let me lean ; 
 
 As if on Thine own bosom let me weep, 
 
 Till restless sorrow there is lull’d to sleep — 
 
 Sleep gentle and serene 
 If Thou my slumber keep. 
 
 To joy then shall I wake, 
 
 And, taught new trust, with constant, loving heart, 
 
 To Thee shall cling, nor bear again to part, 
 
 Till heaven’s bright dawn shall break, 
 
 And bring me where Thou art. — Ray Palmer. 
 
 3165. SORROW. God the only Comforter in j 
 
 In the dark winter of affliction’s hour, 
 
 When summer friends and pleasures haste away, 
 And the wreck’d heart perceives how frail each 
 power 
 
 It made a refuge, and believed a stay, 
 
 When man all wild and weak is seen to be,— 
 
 There’s none like Thee, O Lord ! there’s none like 
 Thee ! 
 
 When the world’s sorrow—working only death, 
 
 And the world’s comfort—caustic to the wound, 
 Make the wrung spirit loathe life’s daily breath, 
 
 As jarring music from a harp untuned ; 
 
 While yet it dare not from the discord flee,— 
 
 There’s none like Thee, O Lord ! there’s none like 
 Thee ! 
 
 When the toss'd mind surveys its hidden world, 
 
 And feels in every faculty a foe, 
 
 United but in strife, waves urged and hurl’d 
 By passion and by conscience, winds of woe, 
 
 Till the whole being is a storm-swept sea,— 
 
 There’s none like thee, O Lord! there’s none like 
 Thee ! 
 
 Thou in adversity canst be a sun ; 
 
 Thou art a healing balm, a sheltering tewer, 
 
 The peace, the truth, the life, the love of One 
 Nor wound, nor grief, nor storm can overpower: 
 Gifts of a king ; gifts frequent and yet free : 
 
 There’s none like Thee, O Lord ! none, none like 
 Thee !— Alula Jane Jewsbury. 
 
 Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell you 
 anguish : 
 
 Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal. 
 
 Moore. 
 
 Rising griefs distress my soul, 
 
 And tears on tears successive roll: 
 
 For many an evil voice is near, 
 
 To chide my woe and mock my fear ; 
 
 And silent memory weeps alone 
 O’er hours of peace and gladness flown. 
 
SORROW 
 
 613 
 
 SORROW 
 
 For I have walk’d the happy round 
 That circles Zion’s holy ground, 
 
 And gladly swell’d the choral lays 
 That hymn’d my great Redeemer’s praise, 
 
 What time the hallow’d arch along 
 Responsive swell’d the solemn song. 
 
 Ah ! Avhy, by passing clouds oppress’d, 
 
 Should vexing thoughts distract thy breast ? 
 Turn, turn to Him in every pain 
 Whom never suppliant sought in vain,— 
 
 Thy strength in joy’s ecstatic day. 
 
 Thy hope when joy has pass’d away.— Bcnvdler. 
 
 Young mother ! what can feeble friendship say 
 To soothe the anguish of this mournful day ? 
 
 They, they alone, whose hearts like thine have bled, 
 Know how the living sorrow for the dead: 
 
 Each tutor’d voice that seeks such grief to cheer 
 Strikes cold upon the weeping parent’s ear; 
 
 I’ve felt it all—alas ! too well I know 
 How vain all earthly power to hush thy woe ! 
 
 Sprague. 
 
 3166. SORROW : how it is to be borne. 
 
 There’s no way to make sorrow light 
 But in the noble bearing ; be content ; 
 
 Blows given from Heaven are our due punishment; 
 Adi shipwrecks are not drownings ; you see buildings 
 Tade fairer from their ruins.— Rowley. 
 
 Oh, be of comfort ! 
 
 Make patience a noble fortitude, 
 
 And think not how unkindly we are used: 
 
 Man, like a cassia, is proved best being bruised. 
 
 Webster. 
 
 3167. SORROW. Imaginary 
 
 Sink not beneath imaginary sorrows ; 
 
 Call to your aid your courage and your wisdom ; 
 Think on the sudden change of human scenes ; 
 Think on the various accidents of war ; 
 
 Think on the mighty power of awful virtue ; 
 Think on the Providence that guards the good. 
 
 Johnson. 
 
 3168. SORROW. Inconsolable 
 
 Neither my place, nor aught I heard of business, 
 Hath raised me from my bed ; nor doth the general 
 care 
 
 Take hold on me: for my particular grief 
 Engluts and swallows other sorrows.— Shakespeare. 
 
 3169. SORROW. Indulging 
 
 Methinks we do as fretful children do, 
 
 Leaning their faces on the window-pane 
 
 To sigh the glass dim with their own breath’s stain, 
 And shut the sky and landscape from their view. 
 And thus, alas ! since God, the Maker, drew 
 A mystic separation ’twixt those twain, 
 
 The life beyond us, and our souls in pain, 
 
 We miss the prospect which we’re call’d unto 
 By grief we’re fools to use. Be still and strong, 
 
 O man, my brother ! hold thy sobbing breath, 
 And keep thy soul’s large window pure from wrong, 
 That so, as life’s appointment issueth, 
 
 Thy vision may be clear to watch along 
 The sunset consummation-lights of death. 
 
 Mrs Browning. 
 
 3170. SORROW. Joy in 
 
 I’ve found a joy in sorrow, 
 
 A secret balm for pain, 
 
 A beautiful to-morrow 
 Of sunshine after rain. 
 
 I’ve found a branch of healing 
 Near every bitter spring ; 
 
 A whisper’d promise stealing 
 O’er every broken string. 
 
 I’ve found a glad hosanna 
 For every woe and wail, 
 
 A handful of sweet manna, 
 
 When grapes from Eshcol fail. 
 
 I’ve found a Rock of Ages, 
 
 When desert wells were dry ; 
 
 And, after weary stages, 
 
 I’ve found an Elim nigh : 
 
 An Elim with its coolness, 
 
 Its fountains and its shade ! 
 
 A blessing in its fulness, 
 
 When buds of promise fade ! 
 
 O’er tears of soft contrition 
 I’ve seen a rainbow light; 
 
 A glory and fruition, 
 
 So near !—yet out of sight. 
 
 My Saviour ! Thee possessing, 
 
 We have the joy, the balm, 
 
 The healing and the blessing, 
 
 The sunshine and the psalm ; 
 
 The. promise for the fearful. 
 
 The Elim for the faint, 
 
 The rainbow for the tearful,. 
 
 The glory for the saint. 
 
 Jane Cnrwdson. 
 
 3171. SORROW. Ministry of hope in 
 
 F ROM every piercing sorrow 
 That heaves our breast to-day, 
 
 Or threatens us to-morrow, 
 
 Hope turns our eyes away; 
 
SORROW 
 
 SORROW 
 
 614 
 
 On wings of faith ascending, 
 
 We see the land of light, 
 
 And feel our sorrows ending 
 In infinite delight. — Cottle. 
 
 3172. SORROW: multiplied. 
 
 Each substance of a grief hath twenty shadows, 
 
 Which show like grief itself, but are not so: 
 
 For sorrow’s eye, glazed with blinding tears, 
 
 Divides one thing entire to many objects. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 3173. SORROW: never sent in vain. 
 
 What bliss is born of sorrow ! 
 
 ’Tis never sent in vain— 
 
 The heavenly Surgeon maims to save, 
 
 He gives no useless pain.— Ward. 
 
 3174. SORROW : not to be anticipated. 
 
 Know, he that 
 
 Foretells his own calamity, and makes 
 
 Events before they come, twice over doth 
 
 Endure the pains of evil destiny.— Davenant. 
 
 Why should we 
 
 Anticipate our sorrows ? ’tis like those 
 
 That die for fear of death.— Denham. 
 
 3175. SORROW: prepares us for death. 
 
 Dear Lord, in all our loneliest pains, 
 
 Thou hast the largest share, 
 
 And that which is unbearable, 
 
 ’Tis Thine, not ours, to bear. 
 
 How merciful Thine anger is ! 
 
 How tender it can be ! 
 
 How wonderful all sorrows are 
 Which come direct from Thee ! 
 
 Years fly, O Lord, and every year 
 More desolate I grow ; 
 
 My world of friends thins round me fast, 
 
 Love after love lies low. 
 
 There are fresh gaps around the hearth, 
 
 Old places left unfill’d, 
 
 And young lives quench’d before the old, 
 
 And the love of old hearts chill’d. 
 
 Dear voices and dear faces miss’d, 
 
 Sweet households overthi'own ; 
 
 And what is left, more sad to see 
 Than the sight of what has gone. 
 
 All this is to be sanctified, 
 
 This rupture with the past; 
 
 For thus we die before our deaths, 
 
 And so die well at last!— Faber. 
 
 3176- SORROW. Relief from 
 
 There are a thousand joyous things in life, 
 Which pass unheeded in a life of joy, 
 
 As thine hath been, till breezy sorrow comes 
 To ruffle it; and daily duties, paid 
 Hardly at first, at length will bring repose 
 To the sad mind that studies to perform them. 
 
 Talfourd. 
 
 Wouldst thou from sorrow find a sweet relief. 
 
 Or is thy heart oppress’d with woes untold ? 
 Balm wouldst thou gather for corroding grief; 
 
 Pour blessings round thee like a shower of gold ! 
 ’Tis when the rose is wrapp’d in many a fold 
 Close to its heart, the worm is wasting there 
 Its life and beauty ; not when, all unroll’d, 
 
 Leaf after leaf, its bosom, rich and fair, 
 
 Breathes freely its perfumes throughout the ambier 
 air. 
 
 Rouse to some work of high and holy love, 
 
 And thou an angel’s happiness shalt know. 
 
 Wilcox. 
 
 3177. SORROW. Relief from 
 
 When sorrow all our heart would ask, 
 
 We need not shun our daily task, 
 
 And hide ourselves for calm ; 
 
 The herbs we seek to heal our woe, 
 
 Familiar by our pathway grow ; 
 
 Our common air is balm. 
 
 Around each pure domestic shrine, 
 
 Bright flowers of Eden bloom and twine ; 
 
 Our hearths are altars all; 
 
 The prayers of hungry souls and poor, 
 
 Like armed angels at the door, 
 
 Our unseen foes appal. 
 
 Alms all around, and hymns within’,— 
 
 What evil eye can entrance win. 
 
 Where guards like these abound ? 
 
 If chance some heedless heart should roam. 
 Sure, thought of these will lure it home, 
 
 Ere lost in Folly’s round. 
 
 Oh joys, that, sweetest in decay, 
 
 Fall not, like wither’d leaves, away ; 
 
 But, with the silent breath 
 Of violets drooping one by one, 
 
 Soon as their fragrant task is done, 
 
 Are wafted high in death !— Kcble. 
 
 3178. SORROW. Resignation in 
 
 Meek Lamb of God, on Thee 
 In sorrow I repose ; 
 
SORRC W 
 
 615 
 
 SORROWS 
 
 But for Thy tenderness and grace, 
 
 How hopeless were our woes ! 
 
 Though bitter is my cup, 
 
 Yet how can I repine? 
 
 It stills my every restless thought 
 To think that cup was Thine. 
 
 Since Thou hast hallow’d woe, 
 
 I would not shun the rod, 
 
 But bless the chast’ning hand that seeks 
 To bring me to my God. 
 
 Distress and pain I hail, 
 
 If these conform to Thee ; 
 
 Be but Thy peace, Thy patience mine, 
 
 And ’tis enough for me.— Stow ell. 
 
 3179. SORROW: teaches wisdom. 
 
 Till now thy soul has been 
 All glad and gay: 
 
 Bid it awake, and look 
 At grief to-day ! 
 
 No shade has come between 
 Thee and the sun ; 
 
 Like some long childish dream 
 Thy life has run: 
 
 But now the stream has reach’d 
 A dark, deep sea, 
 
 And Sorrow, dim and crown’d, 
 
 Is waiting thee.— Adelaide A. Procter. 
 
 Half my life is full of sorrow, 
 
 Half of joy, still fresh and new ; 
 
 One of these lives is a fancy, 
 
 But the other one is true. 
 
 Adelaide A. Procter. 
 
 3180. SORROW: the lot of all. 
 
 To each his sufferings : all are men, 
 Condemn’d alike to groan ; 
 
 The tender for another’s pain, 
 
 The unfeeling for his own. — Gray. 
 
 When hope lies dead within the heart, 
 
 By secret sorrow long conceal’d, 
 
 We shrink lest looks or words impart 
 What may not be reveal’d. 
 
 ’Tis hard to smile when one would weep, 
 To speak when one would silent be ; 
 
 To wake when one would wish to sleep, 
 And wake to agony. 
 
 Yet such the lot for thousands cast, 
 
 Who wander in this world of care, 
 
 And bend beneath the bitter blast, 
 
 To save them from despair. 
 
 Yet Nature waits her guests to greet, 
 
 Where disappointment cannot come ; 
 
 And Time leads with unerring feet 
 
 The weary wanderer home.— Anne Hunter. 
 
 3181. SORROW: the path to heaven. 
 
 The path of sorrow, and that path alone, 
 
 Leads to the land where sorrow is unknown ; 
 No traveller ever reach’d that blest abode 
 Who found not thorns and briers in his road. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 3182. SORROW. Views of 
 
 Self-love no grace in Sorrow sees, 
 
 Consults her own peculiar ease ; 
 
 ’Tis all the bliss she knows ; 
 
 But nobler aims true Love employ, 
 
 In self-denial is her joy, 
 
 In suffering her repose. 
 
 Sorrow and Love go side by side ; 
 
 Nor height nor depth can e’er divide 
 Their heaven-appointed bands ; 
 
 Those dear associates still are one, 
 
 Nor till the race of life is run, 
 
 Disjoin their wedded hands. 
 
 Madame Guy on , tr. by Cowper. 
 
 3183. SORROW : wearisome. 
 
 Whole years of joy glide unperceived away, 
 
 While Sorrow counts the minutes as they pass. 
 
 Havard. 
 
 3184. SORROWS : Divinely sent. 
 
 Not from the dust my sorrows spring, 
 
 Nor drops my comfort from the lower skies ; 
 
 Let all the baleful planets shed 
 Their mingled curses on my head, 
 
 How vain their curses, if th’ eternal King 
 Look through the clouds and bless me with His eyes 
 Creatures with all their boasted sway 
 Are but His slaves, and must obey ; 
 
 They wait His orders from above, 
 
 And execute His word, the vengeance or the love. 
 
 Watts. 
 
 3185. SORROWS. Great 
 
 Great sorrows have no leisure to complain : 
 
 Least ills vent forth, great griefs within remain. 
 
 Goffe. 
 
 Amazed he stands, nor voice nor body stirs ; 
 
 Words had no passage, tears no issue found ; 
 
SORROWS 
 
 616 
 
 SOUL 
 
 For sorrow shut up words, wrath kept in tears ; 
 Confused effects each other do confound : 
 Oppress’d with grief, his passions had no bound. 
 Striving to tell his woes, words would not come ; 
 
 For light cares speak, when mighty griefs are dumb. 
 
 Daniel. 
 
 I drink 
 
 So deep of grief,, that he must only think, 
 
 IN ot dare to speak, that would express my woe: 
 Small rivers murmur, deep gulfs silent flow. 
 
 Ala rs ton. 
 
 3186. SORROWS : how they are to be treated. 
 
 Past sorrows, let us moderately lament them ; 
 h or those to come, seek wisely to prevent them. 
 
 Webster. 
 
 3187. SORROWS : never come singly. 
 
 When sorrows come, they come not single spies, 
 But in battalions !— Shakespeare. 
 
 Alas ! misfortunes travel in a train, 
 
 And oft in life form one perpetual chain; 
 Fear buries fear, and ills on ills attend, 
 
 Till life and sorrow meet one common end. 
 
 3188. SOUL. Cost of a 
 
 Young. 
 
 If for a world a soul be lost, 
 
 Who can the loss supply ? 
 
 More than a thousand worlds it cost 
 One single soul to buy.— C. Wesley. 
 
 3189. SOUL. Dissatisfaction of the 
 
 The soul on earth is an immortal guest 
 Condemn’d to starve at an unreal feast; 
 
 A spark, which upwards tends by nature’s force ; 
 A stream, diverted from its parent source ; 
 
 A drop, dissever’d from the boundless sea ; 
 
 A moment, parted from eternity ; 
 
 A pilgrim, panting for the rest to come ; 
 
 An exile, anxious for his native home. 
 
 Hannah More. 
 
 3190. SOUL. Efforts for the 
 
 Know’st thou the importance of a soul immortal? 
 Behold this midnight glory—worlds on worlds ! 
 Amazing pomp ! Redouble this amaze ; 
 
 Ten thousand add, and twice ten thousand more; 
 Then, weigh the whole ! One soul outweighs them 
 all, 
 
 And calls th’ astonishing magnificence 
 Of unintelligent creation poor. 
 
 For this, believe not me ; no man believe. 
 
 Trust not in words, but deeds ; and deeds no less 
 Than those of the Supreme.— Young. 
 
 3 I 9 I * SOUL. Freedom of the 
 
 Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass, 
 Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron, 
 Can be retentive to the strength of spirit. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 3192. SOUL. Ideas about the 
 
 Musicians think our souls are harmonies ; 
 
 Physicians hold that they complexions be ; 
 Epicures make them swarms of atomies, 
 Which do by chance into our bodies flee. 
 
 One thinks the soul is air; another fire, 
 Another blood, diffused about the heart; 
 Another saith the elements conspire, 
 
 And to her essence each doth yield a part. 
 
 Some think one general soul fills every brain, 
 As the bright sun sheds lights in every star; 
 And others think the name of soul is vain, 
 
 And that we only well-mix’d bodies are. 
 
 Thus these great clerks their little wisdom show, 
 While with their doctrines they at hazard play ; 
 Tossing their light opinions to and fro, 
 
 To mock the lewd, as learn’d in this as they; 
 
 
 For no crazed brain could ever yet propound, 
 Touching the soul, so vain and fond a thought, 
 But some among these masters have been found, 
 Which, in their schools, the self-same thing have ; 
 taught.— Davies. 
 
 3193. SOUL. Mistakes of the 
 
 Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth, 
 
 Fool’d by those rebel powers that thee array, 
 Why dost thou pine within, and suffer dearth, 
 Painting thy outward walls so costly gay ? 
 
 Why so large cost, having so short a lease, 
 
 Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend ? 
 
 Shall worms, inheritors of this excess, 
 
 Eat up thy charge ? Is this thy body’s end ? 
 Then, soul, live thou upon thy servant’s loss, 
 
 And let that pine to aggravate thy store ; 
 
 Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross ; 
 
 Within be fed, without be rich no more ; 
 
 So shalt thou feed on death, that feeds on men ; 
 And, death once dead, there’s no more dying then. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 3194. SOUL. Mystery of the 
 
 Soul, dwelling oft in God’s infinitude, 
 
 And sometimes seeming no more part of me— 
 This me, worms’ heritage—than that sun can be 
 Part of the earth he has with warmth imbued,— 
 
SOUL 
 
 617 
 
 SOUL 
 
 Whence earnest thou? Whither goest thou? I, 
 subdued 
 
 With awe of mine own being, thus sit still, 
 
 Dumb, on the summit of this lonely hill, 
 
 I'Vhose dry November-grasses dew-bestrew’d 
 Mirror a million suns. That sun, so blight, 
 
 Passes, as thou must pass, Soul, into night ! 
 urt thou afraid, who solitary hast trod 
 A path I know not, from a source to a bourn 
 Both which I know not ? fear st thou to return 
 Alone, even as thou earnest alone, to God ? 
 
 D. At. Muloch. 
 
 3195. SOUL. Joys of the 
 
 When in heaven she shall His essence see, 
 
 This is her sov’reign good, and perfect bliss : 
 Her longings, wishings, hopes, all finish’d be : 
 
 Her joys are full, her motions rest in this. 
 
 Davies. 
 
 The joys of sense to mental joys are mean ; 
 
 Sense on the present only feeds ; the soul 
 On past and present forages for joy ; 
 
 ’Tis hers, by retrospect, through time to range, 
 And forward, time’s great sequel to survey. 
 
 t Young. 
 
 3196. SOUL. Struggles of the 
 
 With stammering lips and insufficient sound 
 I strive and struggle to deliver right 
 The music of my nature, day and night 
 With dream and thought and feeling interwound, 
 And inly answering all the senses round 
 With octaves of a mystic depth and height, 
 Which step out grandly to the infinite 
 From the dark edges of the sensual ground ! 
 
 This song of soul I struggle to outbear 
 
 Through portals of the sense, sublime and whole, 
 And utter all myself into the air. 
 
 But if I did it,—as the thunder-roll 
 Breaks its own cloud,—my flesh would perish there, 
 Before that dread apocalypse of soul. 
 
 Airs Browning. 
 
 3197. SOUL. The: a Bird of Passage. 
 
 ‘ My soul is like some eager-born bird, that hath 
 A restless prescience—howsoever won— 
 
 Of a broad pathway leading to the sun, 
 
 With promptings of an oft-reproved faith 
 
 ‘ In sunward yearnings. Stricken though her breast, 
 And faint her wing, with beating at the bars 
 Of sense, she looks beyond outlying stars, 
 
 And only in the Infinite sees rest. 
 
 Sad soul! if ever thy desire be bent 
 
 Or broken to thy doom, and made to share 
 
 The ruminant’s beatitude—content, 
 
 Chewing the cud of knowledge, with no care 
 For germs of life within— then will I say: 
 
 ‘ Thou art not caged, but fitly stall d in clay ! 
 
 Emily Pfeiffer. 
 
 3198. SOUL. The: a prisoner. 
 
 In the body’s prison so she lies, 
 
 As through the body’s prison she must look, 
 
 Her divers powers of sense to exercise 
 
 By gath’ring notes out of the world s great book. 
 
 Davies. 
 
 Even so the soul in this contracted state, 
 
 Confined to these strait instruments of sense, 
 
 More dull and narrowly doth operate: 
 
 At this hole hears, the sight may ray from thence. 
 Here tastes, there smells; but when she’s gone 
 from hence, 
 
 Like naked lamp, she is one shining sphere, 
 
 And round about hath perfect cognizance 
 Whatever in the horizon doth appear: 
 
 She is one orb of sense; all eye, all touch, all ear. 
 
 Henry Alore. 
 
 3199. SOUL. The: a stranger. 
 
 Our souls but like unhappy strangers come 
 
 From heaven, their country, to this woild s bad 
 coast; 
 
 They land, then straight are backward bound for 
 home, 
 
 And many are in storms of passion lost! 
 
 They long with danger sail through life’s vext seas, 
 In bodies as in vessels full of leaks ; 
 
 Walking in veins, their narrow galleries, 
 
 Shorter than walks of seamen on their decks. 
 
 Davenant. 
 
 3200. SOUL. The departed 
 
 LI ere is the house, 
 
 Empty and lone ; 
 
 Where is the home of that which is gone— 
 
 Out in the regions of boundless blank space, 
 Floating and floating, no shape, no place ? 
 
 Or did it gather its wealth and remove 
 To the home up above ?— 
 
 All’s still in the house. 
 
 Gone from its home, 
 
 And none knoweth where ; 
 
 Unseen it pass’d the invisible air. 
 
 Nothing to mark that the dweller is reft 
 Out of our midst, but the house that is left. 
 
 Cod grant that the soul that wander’d away 
 Be not homeless to-day : 
 
 But here is the house. 
 
 Out of its house 
 Flow strange it must be ! 
 
SOUL 
 
 618 
 
 SOUL 
 
 Now to itself, the great mystery, 
 
 The intangible thing, that’s like nothing we know 
 That we should shudder at, come to us so— 
 
 Here with us yesterday, gone with a touch, 
 
 How strange to be such 
 And away from its house ! 
 
 Ah ! the desolate house— 
 
 And a voice cometh low, 
 
 Murmuring, ‘ Some day thou, too, must go.’ 
 
 Ah, me ! Thrust forth to the world outside, 
 
 Shall I not find it dreary and wide? 
 
 This is grown to be home—from the near and known 
 I must go forth alone— 
 
 Out of this house. 
 
 Low as it is, 
 
 From its windows I bound. 
 
 All I can measure of what is beyond. 
 
 Here has been written all of my past— 
 
 It is dear by memories first and last; 
 
 Old as life to me ! What shall I do 
 When I must go too 
 Out of my house ? 
 
 Can I miss the new house 
 In the city impearl’d ?— 
 
 Dreadful abysses past world from world, 
 
 Valleys of nothingness ’twixt height and height, 
 Terrible blanks in the great Infinite. 
 
 Room for worlds to go down; where a soul might 
 be toss’d 
 
 With its anchorage lost. 
 
 So far from its home ! 
 
 Into Thy house, 
 
 Lord, take us straight, 
 
 Lest we be left in the darkness to wait; 
 
 Lest we be lost in realms without sun, 
 
 And wander for ever where mansion is none, 
 
 Crying without: Let us in ! Let us in,— 
 
 When the feast shall begin, 
 
 And the door shall be shut! 
 
 Carl Spencer. 
 
 3201. SOUL. The : immortal. 
 
 Heaven waxeth old, and all the spheres above 
 Shall one day faint, and their swift motion stay; 
 And time itself, in time, shall cease to move ; 
 
 But the soul still survives, and lives for aye. 
 
 Davies. 
 
 If she the body’s nature did partake, 
 
 Her strength would with the body’s strength decay; 
 But when the body’s strongest sinews slake, 
 
 Then is the soul most active, quick, and gay. 
 
 Davies. 
 
 And when thou think’st of her eternity, 
 
 Think not that death against her nature is ; 
 
 
 Think it a birth: and when thou go’st to die, 
 
 Sing like a swan, as if thou went’st to bliss. 
 
 Davies. 
 
 Time, that changes all, yet changes us in vain, 
 The body, not the mind; nor can control 
 Th' immortal vigour, or abate the soul. 
 
 Dryden. 1 
 
 The soul, secure in her existence, smiles 
 At the drawn dagger, and defies its point; 
 
 The stars shall fade away, the sun himself 
 Grow dim with age, and nature sink in years; 
 But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth, 
 
 Unhurt amidst the war of elements, 
 
 The wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds ! 
 
 Addison. 
 
 It must be so ! Plato, thou reason’st well: 
 
 Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire. 
 This longing after immortality ? 
 
 Or whence this secret dread and inward horror ^ 
 Of falling into nought ? Why shrinks the soul 
 Back on herself, and startles at destruction ? 
 
 ’Tis the Divinity that stirs within us; 
 
 ’Tis heaven itself that points out an hereafter, 
 And intimates eternity to man. — Addison. 
 
 Her ceaseless flight, though devious, speaks hei 
 nature 
 
 Of subtler essence than the trodden clod ; 
 
 For human weal, Heaven husbands all events. 
 
 Dull sleep instructs, nor sport vain dreams in vain. 
 
 Young. 
 
 Our thoughts are boundless, though our frames art 
 frail. 
 
 Our souls immortal, though our limbs decay; 
 Though darken’d in this poor life by a veil 
 Of suffering, dying matter, we shall play 
 In truth’s eternal sunbeams ; on the way 
 To Heaven’s high capitol our cars shall roll; 
 
 The temple of the Power whom all obey, 
 
 That is the mark we tend to, for the soul 
 Can take no lower flight, and seek no meaner goal. 
 
 Percival. 
 
 The soul, of origin Divine, 
 
 God’s glorious image, freed from clay, 
 
 In heaven’s eternal sphere shall shine, 
 
 A star of day. 
 
 The sun is but a spark of fire, 
 
 A transient meteor in the sky ; 
 
 The soul, immortal as its Sire, 
 
 Shall never die. 
 
 James Montgomery. 
 
 3202. SOUL. The : slumbering. 
 
 Who is sure he hath a soul, unless 
 It see and judge and follow worthiness, 
 
 I 
 
SOUL 
 
 619 
 
 SPEECH 
 
 And by deeds praise it ? He who doth not this 
 
 May lodge an innate soul, but ’tis not his. 
 
 Donne. 
 
 3203. SOUL. The: unknown. 
 
 As the sharpest eye discerneth nought 
 Except the sunbeams in the air do shine, 
 
 So the best soul, with her reflecting thought, 
 
 Sees not herself without some light Divine. 
 
 Davies. 
 
 Thou that hast fashion’d twice this soul of ours, 
 So that she is by double title Thine ; 
 
 Thou only know’st her nature and her powers, 
 Her subtile form Thou only canst define. 
 
 We that acquaint ourselves with every zone, 
 
 And pass the tropics and behold each pole ; 
 
 When we come home are to ourselves unknown. 
 And unacquainted still with our own soul. 
 
 Davies . 
 
 3204. SOUL. Value of the 
 
 What is the thing of greatest price 
 The whole creation round ? 
 
 That which was lost in paradise, 
 
 That which in Christ is found,— 
 
 The soul of man— Jehovah’s breath ! 
 
 That keeps two worlds at strife ; 
 
 Hell moves beneath to work its death, 
 Heaven stoops to give it life. 
 
 God to reclaim it did not spare 
 His well-beloved Son; 
 
 Jesus, to save it, deign’d to bear 
 The sins of all in one. 
 
 The Holy Spirit seal’d the plan, 
 
 And pledged the blood Divine 
 
 To ransom every soul of man ; 
 
 That blood was shed for mine. 
 
 And is this treasure borne below 
 In earthly vessels frail ? 
 
 Can none its utmost value know 
 Till flesh and spirit fail? 
 
 Then let us gather round the cross. 
 
 This knowledge to obtain, 
 
 Not by the soul’s eternal loss, 
 
 But everlasting gain.— Montgomery . 
 
 3205. SOWER. The 
 
 ‘ Such as I have I sow, it is not much,’ 
 
 Said one who loved the Master of the field ; 
 
 Only a quiet word, a gentle touch 
 
 Upon the hidden harp-strings, which may yield 
 
 No quick response ; I tremble, yet I speak 
 
 For Him who knows the heart so loving, yet so weak. 
 
 And so the words were spoken, soft and low, 
 
 Or traced with timid pen ; yet oft they fell 
 On soil prepared, which she would never know, 
 
 Until the tender blade sprang up to tell 
 That not in vain her labour had been spent; 
 
 Then with new faith and hope more bravely on she 
 went.— Frances Ridley Haver gal. 
 
 3206. SOWING. Fruits of 
 
 Are we sowing seeds of goodness? 
 
 They shall blossom bright ere long. 
 
 Are we sowing seeds of discord ? 
 
 They shall ripen into wrong. 
 
 Are we sowing seeds of honour ? 
 
 They shall bring forth golden grain. 
 
 Are we sowing seeds of falsehood ? 
 
 We shall yet reap bitter pain. 
 
 Whatsoe’er our sowing be. 
 
 Reaping, we its fruit must see. 
 
 We can never be too careful 
 
 What the seed our hands shall sow; 
 
 Love from love is sure to ripen, 
 
 Hate from hate is sure to grow. 
 
 Seeds of good or ill we scatter 
 Heedlessly along our way ; 
 
 But a glad or grievous fruitage 
 Waits us at the harvest day. 
 
 3207. SPEECH. Eloquence of 
 
 How shall we learn to sway the minds of men 
 By eloquence ? to rule them, or persuade ? 
 
 Do you seek genuine and worthy fame ? 
 
 Reason and honest feeling want no arts 
 Of utterance, ask no toil of elocution ! 
 
 And, when you speak in earnest, do you need 
 To search for words? Oh! these fine holiday 
 phrases, 
 
 In which you robe your worn-out commonplaces, 
 These scraps of paper which you crimp and curl, 
 And twist into a thousand idle shapes, 
 
 These filigree ornaments, are good for nothing, 
 
 Cost time and pains, please few, impose on no one ; 
 Are unrefreshing, as the wind that whistles 
 In autumn ’mong the dry and wrinkled leaves. 
 
 If feeling does not prompt, in vain you strive. 
 
 If from the soul the language does not come, 
 
 By its own impulse, to impel the hearts 
 Of hearers with communicated power, 
 
 In vain you strive, in vain you study earnestly, 
 
 Toil on for ever, piece together fragments, 
 
 Cook up your broken scraps of sentences, 
 
 
SPHERE OF DUTY 
 
 620 
 
 STARS 
 
 And blow, with puffing breath, a struggling light, 
 
 Glimmering confusedly now, now cold in ashes_ 
 
 Startle the school-boys with your metaphors, 
 
 And, if such food may suit your appetite, 
 
 Win the vain wonder of applauding children ! 
 
 But never hope to stir the hearts of men, 
 
 ■And mould the souls of many into one, 
 
 By words which come not native from the heart ! 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 3208. SPHERE OF DUTY. 
 
 Nature to each allots his proper sphere, 
 
 But that forsaken, we like comets err. 
 
 Toss d through the void, by some rude shock we’re 
 , broke, 
 
 And all our boasted fire is lost in smoke.— Congreve. 
 
 3209. SPIRITS. Traits of 
 
 They miss the truth who meditate that death, 
 Or that which follows after death, can change 
 The native idealities of men. 
 
 These in the saved and lost alike remain 
 . Immutable for ever. There is nought 
 In the unloosing of the mortal tent 
 To alter or transform immortal minds. 
 
 The gentle still are gentle, and the strong 
 Are ever strong. Innumerable traits 
 Each from the rest distinguish. It is true 
 There lies a gulf impassable betwixt 
 Salvation and perdition, heaven and hell; 
 
 But oh ! the almost infinite degrees 
 Betwixt the lost and lost .—Biekersteth. 
 
 3210. SPLENDOUR. 
 
 Can wealth give happiness ? look around and see 
 What gay distress ! what splendid misery ! 
 
 I envy none their pageantry and show, 
 
 I envy none the gilding of their woe.— Young. 
 
 The splendours of our rank and state 
 Are shadows, not substantial things. — Youner. 
 
 o o 
 
 3211. STARS. Invocation to the 
 
 Shine, ye stars of heaven, 
 
 On a world of pain ! 
 
 See old Time destroying 
 All our hoarded grain ; 
 
 All our sweetest flowers, 
 
 Every stately shrine, 
 
 All our hard-earn’d glory, 
 
 Every dream divine ! 
 
 Shine, ye stars of heaven, 
 
 On the rolling years ! 
 
 See how Time, consoling, 
 
 Dries the saddest tears ; 
 
 Bids the darkest storm-clouds 
 Pass in gentle rain, 
 
 While uprise in glory 
 
 Flowers and dreams again ! 
 
 Adelaide A. Procter. 
 
 3212. STARS. Mystery of the 
 
 Ye stars ! which are the poetry of heaven ; 
 
 If in your bright leaves we would read the fate 
 Of men and empires—’tis to be forgiven, 
 
 That in our aspirations to be great, 
 
 Our destinies o’erleap their mortal state, 
 
 And claim a kindred with you ; for ye are 
 A beauty and a mystery, and create 
 In us such love and reverence from afar, 
 lhat fortune, fame, power, life, have named them- jl 
 selves a star.— Byron. 
 
 3213. STARS. Order of the 
 
 There they stand, 
 
 Shining in order, like a living hymn 
 Written in light.— Willis. 
 
 3214. STARS. Progress of the 
 
 The sad and solemn night 
 Has yet her multitude of cheerful fires ; 
 
 The glorious host of light 
 Walk the dark hemisphere till she retires : 
 
 All through her silent watches, gliding slow, 
 i Her constellations come, and climb the heavens, and i 
 g°- 
 
 Day, too, hath many a star 
 To grace his gorgeous reign, as bright as they : 
 
 Through the blue fields afar, 
 
 Unseen, they follow in his flaming way: 
 
 Many a bright lingerer, as the eve grows dim, 
 
 Tells what a radiant troop arose and set with him. 
 
 Bryant. 
 
 3215. STARS. Shining forth of the jj 
 
 They are all up—the innumerable stars 
 That hold their place in heaven. My eyes have been 
 Searching the pearly depths through which they - 
 spring 
 
 Like beautiful creations. — Willis. 
 
 3216. STARS. Suggestiveness of the 
 
 Oh what a confluence of ethereal fires, 
 
 From urns unnumber’d, down the steep of heaven, 
 Streams to a point, and centres in my sight! 
 
 N or tarries there ; I feel it at my heart. — Young. 
 
STARS 
 
 621 
 
 STATE 
 
 The sky 
 
 Spreads like an ocean hung on high, 
 Bespangled with those isles of light 
 So wildly, spiritually bright. 
 
 Who ever gazed upon them shining, 
 
 And turn’d to earth without repining, 
 
 Nor wish’d for wings to flee away, 
 
 And mix with their eternal ray ?— Byron. 
 
 3217. STARS. The : doomed. 
 
 'Pue stars shall fade away, the sun himself 
 Grow dim with age, and nature sink in years. 
 
 Addison. 
 
 3218. STARS. The : inhabited. 
 
 Amplitude almost immense, with stars 
 Numerous, and every star perhaps a world 
 Of destined habitation.— Milton. 
 
 Such vast room in nature unpossess’d 
 By living soul, desert and desolate, 
 
 Only to shine, yet scarce to contribute 
 Each orb a glimpse of light, convey’d so far 
 Down to this habitable, which returns 
 
 Light back to them, is obvious to dispute. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 But the day is spent, 
 
 And stars are kindling in the firmament, 
 
 To us how silent—though, like ours, perchance, 
 Busy and full of life and circumstance.—^^. 
 
 Each of these stars is a religious house ; I saw_ 
 Their altars smoke, their incense rise ; 
 
 And heard hosannas ring through every 7 sphere, 
 
 A seminary fraught with future gods. 
 
 Nature all o’er a consecrated ground, 
 
 Teeming with growths immortal and divine. 
 
 The great Proprietor’s all bounteous hand 
 Leaves nothing waste ; but sows these fiery fields 
 With seeds of reason, which to virtues rise 
 Beneath His genial ray. — Young. 
 
 Count o’er those lamps of quenchless light 
 That sparkle through the shades of night; 
 Behold them !—can a mortal boast 
 To number that celestial host? 
 
 Mark well each little star, whose rays 
 In distant splendour meet thy gaze : 
 
 Each is a world by Him sustain’d 
 Who from eternity hath reign’d. 
 
 Each, kindled not for earth alone, 
 
 Hath circling planets of its own, 
 
 And beings whose existence springs 
 From Him, the all-powerful King of kings. 
 
 Mrs 1 /e/nans. 
 
 3219. STARS. The : not the abode ofXdod. 
 
 When up to nightly skies w r e gaze, 
 
 Where stars pursue their endless ways, 
 
 We think we see, from earth’s low clod, 
 
 The wide and shining home of God. 
 
 ’Tis vain to dream those tracts of space, 
 
 With all their worlds, approach His face : 
 
 One glory fills each wheeling ball— 
 
 One love has shaped and moved them all. 
 
 This earth, with all its dust and tears, 
 
 Is no less His than yonder spheres ; 
 
 And rain-drops weak, and grains of sand, 
 
 Are stamp’d by His immediate hand.— Sterling. 
 
 3220. STARS. Uses of the 
 
 And for the heavens’ wide circuit, let it speak 
 The Maker’s high magnificence.— Milton. 
 
 He made the stars, 
 
 And set them in the firmament of heaven, 
 
 T’ illuminate the earth and rule the night. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 These great orbs thus radically bright, 
 Primitive founts, and origins of light, 
 
 Enliven worlds denied to human sight.— Prior. 
 
 3221. STARS. Watching the 
 
 Look how the floor of heaven 
 Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold : 
 There’s not the smallest orb which thou behold st, 
 But in his motion like an angel sings ; 
 
 Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Ye quenchless stars ! so eloquently bright, 
 Untroubled sentries of the shadowy night, 
 
 While half the world is lapp’d in downy dreams, 
 And round the lattice creep your midnight beams, 
 Plow sweet to gaze upon your placid eyes, 
 
 In lambent beauty looking from the skies ! 
 
 Robert Montgomery. 
 
 Like the Chaldean, he could watch the stars 
 Till he had peopled them with beings bright 
 As their own beams.— Byron. 
 
 1 
 
 2,222. STATE. Constituents of a 
 
 What constitutes a state? 
 
 Not high-raised battlement or labour’d mound, 
 Thick wall or moated gate; 
 
 Not cities proud with spires and turrets crown’d; 
 
 Not bays and broad-arm’d ports, 
 
 Where, laughing at the storm, rich navies ride , 
 
STATE 
 
 622 
 
 STEP BY STEP 
 
 Not starr’d and spangled courts, 
 
 Where low-brow’d baseness wafts perfume to pride. 
 
 No : men, high-minded men, 
 
 W ith powers as far above dull brutes endued 
 In forest, brake, or den, 
 
 As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude— 
 Men who their duties know, 
 
 But know their rights, and knowing, dare maintain, 
 Prevent the long-aim’d blow, 
 
 And crush the tyrant while they rend the chain ; 
 
 These constitute a state ; 
 
 And sovereign law, that state’s collected will, 
 
 O’er thrones and globes elate, 
 
 Sits empress, crowning good, repressing ill. 
 
 Smit by her sacred frown, 
 
 The fiend, Dissension, like a vapour sinks; 
 
 And e’en the all-dazzling crown 
 Hides his faint lays, and at her bidding shrinks. 
 
 Sir William Jones. 
 
 3223. STATE. Duty to the 
 
 Our country is a whole, my Publius, 
 
 Of which we all are parts : nor should a citizen 
 Regard his interests as distinct from hers : 
 
 No hopes or fears should touch his patriot soul, 
 
 But what affect her honour or her shame. 
 
 E’en when in hostile fields he bleeds to save her, 
 
 ’Tis not his blood he loses, ’tis his country’s ; 
 
 He only pays her back a debt he owes. 
 
 To her he’s bound for birth and education ; 
 
 Hei laws secure him from domestic feuds, 
 
 And from the foreign foe her arms protect him. 
 
 She lends him honours, dignity, and rank, 
 
 His wrongs revenges, and his merit pays ; 
 
 And, like a tender and indulgent mother, 
 
 Loads him with comforts, and would make his state 
 As bless’d as nature and the gods design’d it. 
 
 Such gifts, my son, have their alloy of pain, 
 
 And let the unworthy wretch, who will not bear 
 His portion of the public burden, lose 
 The advantages it yields; let him retire 
 From the dear blessings of a social life, 
 
 And from the sacred laws which guard those bless¬ 
 ings, 
 
 Renounce the civilized abodes of man, 
 
 W ith kindred brutes one common shelter seek 
 In horrid wilds, and dens, and dreary caves, 
 
 And with their shaggy tenants share the spoil; 
 
 Or, if the shaggy hunters miss their prey, 
 
 Prom scatter’d acorns pick a scanty meal : 
 
 Far from the sweet civilities of life, 
 
 There let him live and vaunt his wretched freedom, 
 While we, obedient to the laws that guard us, 
 
 Guard them, and live or die, as they decree. 
 
 Hannah Afore. 
 
 3224. STATES : easily destroyed. 
 
 A thousand years scarce serve to form a state; 
 An hour may lay it in the dust.— Byron. 
 
 3225. STATESMEN. 
 
 Believe me, friends, loud tumults are not laid 
 With half the easiness that they are raised. 
 
 Ben Jonson. 
 
 He ill aspires to rule 
 Cities of men or headstrong multitudes, 
 
 Subject himself to anarchy within .—Milton. 
 
 Statesman, yet friend to truth! of soul sincere, 
 
 In action faithful, and in honour clear ! 
 
 Who broke no promise, served no private end, 
 Who gain’d no title, and who lost no friend : 
 Ennobled by himself, by all approved, 
 
 Praised, wept, and honour’d by the muse he loved. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Ye friends to truth, ye statesmen who survey 
 The rich man’s joys increase, the poor’s decay, 
 ’Tis yours to judge how wide the limits stand 
 Between a splendid and a happy land. 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 Whose genius was such 
 
 We scarcely could praise him, or blame him too 
 much ; 
 
 W T ho, born for the universe, narrow’d his mind, 
 
 And to party gave up what was meant for mankind. 
 
 Goldsmith. 
 
 3226. STATUES. 
 
 So stands the statue that enchants the world. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 Thereon, amongst his travels, found 
 A broken statue on the ground ; 
 
 And searching onward, as he went, 
 
 He traced a ruin’d monument. 
 
 Mould, moss, and shades had overgrown 
 The sculpture of the crumbling stone ; 
 
 Yet ere he past, with much ado, 
 
 He guess’d, and spell’d out Sci-pi-o. 
 
 ‘ Enough,’ he cried ; ‘ I’ll drudge no more 
 In turning the dull Stoics o’er.’— Watts. 
 
 3227. STEP BY STEP. 
 
 Heaven is not reach’d at a single bound ; 
 
 But we build the ladder by which we rise 
 From the lowly earth to the vaulted skies, 
 
 And we mount to its summit round by round. 
 
 I count this thing to be grandly true : 
 
 That a noble deed is a step toward God, 
 
STINGINESS 
 
 623 
 
 STORMS OF LIFE 
 
 Lifting the soul from the common clod 
 To a purer air and a broader view. 
 
 We rise by things that are under feet; 
 
 By what we have master’d of good and gain ; 
 
 By the pride deposed and the passion slain ; 
 
 And the vanquish’d ills that we hourly meet. 
 
 We hope, we aspire, we resolve, we trust, 
 
 When the morning calls us to life and light, 
 
 But our hearts grow weary, and, ere the night, 
 Our lives are trailing the sordid dust. 
 
 We hope, we resolve, we aspire, we pray, 
 
 And we think that we mount the air on wings, 
 Beyond the recall of sensual things, 
 
 While our feet still cling to the heavy clay. 
 
 Wings for the angels, but feet for men! 
 
 We may borrow the wings to find the way— 
 
 We may hope and resolve and aspire and pray ; 
 But our feet must rise, or we fall again. 
 
 Only in dreams is a ladder thrown 
 
 From the weary earth to the sapphire walls, 
 
 But the dreams depart, and the vision falls, 
 
 And the sleeper wakes on his pillow of stone. 
 
 Heaven is not reach’d at a single bound ; 
 
 But we build the ladder by which we rise 
 From the lowly earth to the vaulted skies, 
 
 And we mount to its summit round by round. 
 
 J. G. Holland. 
 
 3228. STINGINESS. 
 
 A merchant famed for stinginess 
 Gave nought to hunger or distress; 
 
 If he had own’d the sun, instead 
 Of tables with all dainties spread, 
 
 He never would have loosed one ray 
 Of light until the judgment day. 
 
 From the Persian of Saadi. 
 
 3229. STORMS. 
 
 The Mariner that on smooth waves doth glide 
 Sings merrily, and steers his barque with ease, 
 As if he had command of wind and tide, 
 
 And now become great Master of the seas ; 
 
 But suddenly a storm spoils all the sport, 
 
 And makes him long for a more quiet port, 
 
 Which ’gainst all adverse winds may serve for fort. 
 
 Anne Brad street. 
 
 Every pilot 
 
 Can steer the ship in calms ; but he performs 
 1'he skilful part, can manage it in storms. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 O God ! have mercy in this dreadful hour 
 On the poor mariner ! in comfort here, 
 
 Safe shelter’d as I am, I almost fear 
 The blast that rages with resistless power. 
 
 What were it now to toss upon the waves— 
 
 The madden’d waves, and know no succour near; 
 The howling of the storm alone to hear, 
 
 And the wild sea that to the tempest raves ; 
 
 To gaze amid the horrors of the night, 
 
 And only see the billows’ gleaming light; 
 
 And in the dread of death to think of her 
 Who, as she listens sleepless to the gale, 
 
 Puts up a silent prayer and waxes pale ? 
 
 O God ! have mercy on the mariner !— Southey. 
 
 A thunder-storm !—the eloquence of heaven, 
 When every cloud is from its slumber riven, 
 
 Who hath not paused beneath its hollow groan, 
 And felt Omnipotence around him thrown ? 
 
 With what a gloom the ushering scene appears ! 
 The leaves all fluttering with instinctive fears, 
 The waters curling with a fellow dread, 
 
 A breezeless fervour round creation spread, 
 
 And, last, the heavy rain’s reluctant shower, 
 
 With big drops pattering on the tree and bower, 
 While wizard shapes the lowering sky deform,— 
 All mark the coming of a thunder-storm. 
 
 R. Montgomery. 
 
 3230. STORMS OF LIFE. 
 
 Amid the darkness, when the storm, 
 
 Swept fierce and wild o’er Galilee, 
 
 Was seen of old, dear Lord, Thy form. 
 
 All calmly walking on the sea ; 
 
 And raging elements were still, 
 
 Obedient to Thy sovereign will. 
 
 So on life’s restless, heaving wave, 
 
 When night and storm my sky o’ercast, 
 
 Oft hast Thou come to cheer and save, 
 
 Hast changed my fear to joy at last. 
 
 Thy voice hath bid the tumult cease, 
 
 And soothed my throbbing heart to peace. 
 
 But ah ! too soon my fears return, 
 
 And dark mistrust disturbs anew ; 
 
 What smother’d fires within yet burn ! 
 
 My days of peace, alas, how few ! 
 
 These heart-throes,—shall they ne’er be past? 
 These strifes,—shall they for ever last? 
 
 I heed not danger, toil, nor pain, 
 
 Care not how hard the storm may beat, 
 
 If in my heart Thy peace may reign, 
 
 And faith and patience keep their seat; 
 
 If strength Divine may nerve my soul, 
 
 And love my every thought control. 
 
 Oh may that voice that quell’d the sea, 
 
 And laid the surging waves to rest, 
 
 Speak in my spirit, set me free 
 
 From passions that disturb my breast. 
 
STRENGTH 
 
 624 
 
 STYLE 
 
 Jesus, I yield me to Thy will, 
 
 And wait to hear Thy ‘ Peace, be still ! ’ 
 
 Ray Palmer. 
 
 3231. STRENGTH. Growth of 
 
 Vigour from toil, from trouble patience grows. 
 
 The weakly blossom, warm in summer bower, 
 Some tints of transient beauty may disclose ; 
 
 But ah ! it withers in the chilling hour. 
 
 Mark yonder oaks ! Superior to the power 
 Of all the warring winds of heaven they rise, 
 
 And from the stormy promontory tower 
 They toss their giant arms amid the skies, 
 
 While each assailing blast increase of strength sup¬ 
 plies.— Beattie. 
 
 3232. STRENGTH. Promise of 
 
 When adverse winds and waves arise, 
 
 And in my heart despondence sighs, 
 
 When life its throng of care reveals, 
 
 And weakness o’er my spirit steals, • 
 
 Grateful I hear the kind decree 
 
 That—‘as my day, my strength shall be.’ 
 
 When, with sad footstep, memory roves, 
 
 ’Mid smitten joys and buried loves, 
 
 When sleep my tearful pillow flies, 
 
 And dewy morning drinks my sighs, 
 
 Still to Thy promise, Lord, I flee, 
 
 That—‘as my day, my strength shall be.’ 
 
 One trial more must yet be past, 
 
 One pang, the keenest and the last— 
 
 And when with brow convulsed and pale, 
 
 My feeble, quivering heart-strings fail, 
 
 Redeemer ! grant my soul to see 
 
 That—‘as her day, her strength shall be.’ 
 
 Airs Sigourney. 
 
 3233. STUDY. 
 
 Study is like the heaven’s glorious sun, 
 
 That will not be deep search’d with saucy looks ; 
 Small have continual plodders ever won, 
 
 Save base authority from others’ books. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Why, universal plodding prisons up 
 The nimble spirits in the arteries ; 
 
 As motion and long-during action tires 
 The sinewy vigour of the traveller. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Alas ! when all our lamps are burn’d, 
 
 Our bodies wasted, and our spirits spent, 
 
 When we have all the learned volumes turn’d 
 Which yield men’s wits both help and ornament, 
 
 Vv hat can we know, or what can we discern ? 
 
 Davies. 
 
 In vain on study time away we throw, 
 
 When we forbear to act the things we knoAv. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 If not to some peculiar end assign’d, 
 
 Study’s the specious trifling of the mind ; 
 
 Or is at best a secondary aim, 
 
 A chase for sport alone, and not for game. 
 
 Young. 
 
 Six hours in sleep, in law’s grave study six, 
 
 Four spend in prayer, the rest on nature fix. 
 
 Quoted in Latin by Sir E. Coke. I 
 
 Seven hours to law, to soothing slumber seven, 
 
 Ten to the world allot, and all to heaven. 
 
 Sir IVm. Jones. \ 
 I know what study is ; it is to toil 
 
 At tasks which seem a systematic curse, 
 And course of bootless penance.— Bailey. 
 
 All mankind are students. How to live 
 And how to die forms the great lesson still. 
 
 Bailey. 
 
 I am devote to study. Worthy books 
 Are not companions—they are solitudes ; 
 
 We lose ourselves in them and all our cares. 
 
 Bailey. 
 
 ‘ Much study is a weariness.’ The sage 
 Who gave his mind to seek and search until 
 He knew all Wisdom—found that on the page 
 
 Knowledge and grief were vow’d companions still! ! 
 And so the students of a later day 
 
 Sit down among the records of old time 
 To hold high commune with the thoughts sublime 1 
 Of minds long gone :—so they too pass away. 
 
 And leave us what ? their course, to toil—reflect— 
 To feel the thorn pierce through our gather’d flowers— 
 Still ’midst the leaves the earth-worm to detect : 
 And this is Knowledge.— Mrs Eames. 
 
 My midnight lamp is weary as my soul, 
 
 And, being unimmortal, has gone out. 
 
 And now alone yon moony lamp of heaven, 
 
 Which God lit, and not man, illuminates 
 These volumes others wrote in weariness 
 As I have read them ; and this cheek and brow, 
 Whose paleness, burned in with heats of thought, 
 Would make an angel smile to see how ill 
 Clay thrust from Paradise consorts with mind,— 
 
 If angels could, like men, smile bitterly. 
 
 Mrs Browning. 
 
 3234. STYLE. ! 
 
 Tiie fool hath planted in his memory 
 An army of good words ; and I do know 
 A many fools that stand in better place, 
 
STUDY 
 
 SUBMISSION 
 
 625 
 
 Garnish’d like him, that for a tricksy word 
 Defy the matter.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Express thyself in plain, not doubtful words, 
 
 That ground for quarrels or disputes affords. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 ’Tis not enough no harshness gives offence ; 
 
 The sound must seem an echo to the sense : 
 
 Soft is the strain when Zephyr gently blows, 
 
 And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows; 
 But when loud surges lash the sounding shore. 
 
 The hoarse, rough verse should like the torrent roar; 
 When Ajax strives some rock’s vast weight to throw, 
 The line too labours, and the words move slow : 
 
 Not so when swift Camilla scours the plain. 
 
 Flies o’er the unbending corn, and skims along the 
 main.— Pope. 
 
 Expression is the dress of thought, and still 
 Appears more decent, as more suitable ; 
 
 A vile conceit in pompous words express’d 
 Is like a clown in regal purple dress’d.— Pope, 
 
 Some to conceit alone their tastes confine, 
 
 And curious thoughts struck out at every line— 
 Pleased with a work where nothing’s just or fit, 
 One glaring chaos and wild heap of wit.— Pope. 
 
 Others for language all their care express, 
 
 And value books, as women men, for dress : 
 
 Their praise is still, 1 The style is excellent; * 
 
 The sense they humbly take upon content.— Pope. 
 
 First follow Nature, and your judgment frame 
 By her just standard, which is still the same ; 
 Unerring Nature, still Divinely bright, 
 
 One clear, unchanged, and universal light, 
 
 Life, force, and beauty must to all impart, 
 
 At once the source, and end, and test of art. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Easy in words thy style, in sense sublime ; 
 
 ’Tis like the ladder in the patriarch’s dream. 
 
 Its foot on earth, its height above the skies. 
 
 Prior. 
 
 Unlearn’d, he knew no schoolman’s subtle art; 
 
 No language but the language of the heart. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 He speaks reservedly, but he speaks with force ; 
 Nor can a word be changed but for a worse. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Commas and points they set exactly right, 
 
 And ’twere a sin to rob them of their mite. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 One simile that solitary shines 
 
 In the dry desert of a thousand lines.— Pope . 
 
 True expression, like th’ unchanging sun, 
 
 Clears and improves whate’er it shines upon : 
 
 It gilds all objects, but it alters none.— Pope. 
 
 Pride often guides the author’s pen ; 
 
 Books as affected are as men; 
 
 But he who studies nature’s laws 
 From certain truth his maxims draws ; 
 
 And those, without our schools, suffice, 
 
 To make men moral, good, and wise.— Gay. 
 
 As veils transparent cover, but not hide. 
 
 Such metaphors appear when right applied; 
 
 When through the phrase we plainly see the sense, 
 Truth with such obvious meanings will dispense. 
 
 Granville. 
 
 Hyperboles, so daring and so bold. 
 
 Disdaining bounds, are yet by rules controll’d ; 
 Above the clouds, but yet within our sight, 
 
 They mount with truth, and make a towering flight. 
 
 Granville. 
 
 Our lines reform’d, and not composed in haste, 
 Polish’d like marble, would like marble last. 
 
 Waller. 
 
 Abstruse and mystic thoughts you must express 
 With painful care, but seeming easiness ; 
 
 For truth shines brightest through the plainest dress. 
 
 Roscommon. 
 
 3235. SUBMISSION. A psalm of 
 
 I hoped that with the brave and strong 
 My portion’d task might lie ; 
 
 To toil amid the busy throng 
 With purpose pure and high ; 
 
 But God has fix’d another part. 
 
 And He has fix’d it well; 
 
 I said so with my breaking heart 
 When first this trouble fell. 
 
 These weary hours will not be lost, 
 
 These days of miseiy, 
 
 These nights of darkness, tempest-tost,— 
 
 Can I but turn to Thee ; 
 
 With secret labour to sustain 
 In patience every blow, 
 
 To gather fortitude from pain. 
 
 And holiness from woe. 
 
 If Thou shouldst bring me back to life, 
 
 More humble I should be, 
 
 More wise, more strengthen’d for the strife, 
 More apt to lean on Thee. 
 
 Should death be standing at the gate. 
 
 Thus should I keep my vow : 
 
 But, Lord ! whatever be my fate. 
 
 Oh let me serve Thee now .—Anne BrontL 
 40 
 
SUBMISSION 
 
 626 
 
 SUCCESS 
 
 3236. SUBMISSION. Base 
 
 It grieves me to the soul 
 To see how man submits to man’s control; 
 
 How overpower’d and shackled minds are led 
 In vulgar tracks, and to submission bred. 
 
 Crabbe. 
 
 3237. SUBMISSION. Blessedness of 
 
 Almighty Power, I love Thee ! blissful name, 
 My healer, God ! and may my inmost soul 
 Love and adore for ever ! Oh, ’tis good 
 To wait submissive at Thy holy throne. 
 
 To leave petitions at Thy feet, and bear 
 Thy frowns and silence with a patient soul. 
 
 Thy hand of mercy is not short to save, 
 
 Nor is the ear of heavenly pity deaf 
 To mortal cries. — Watts. 
 
 3238. SUBMISSION. Declaration of 
 
 Since ’tis Thy sentence I should part 
 With the most precious treasure of my heart, 
 
 I freely that and more resign, 
 
 My heart itself, as its delight is Thine ; 
 
 My little all I give to Thee, 
 
 Thou gav’st a greater gift, Thy Son, to me. 
 
 Take all, great God, I will not grieve, 
 
 But still will wish that I had still to give ; 
 
 I hear Thy voice, Thou bid’st me quit 
 My paradise ; I bless and do submit; 
 
 I will not murmur at Thy word. 
 
 Nor beg Thy angel to sheathe up his sword. 
 
 Norris . 
 
 3239. SUBMISSION. Entire 
 
 God’s ways are not as our ways, His thoughts are 
 not as ours ; 
 
 He wounds us sore with cruel thorns, where we 
 have stoop’d for flowers ; 
 
 But oh ! ’tis from the oft-pierced heart those precious 
 drops distil, 
 
 That many a life, else all unblest, with healing balm 
 shall fill: 
 
 Then give, oh give the flower to those who pray it 
 so may be, 
 
 But I would choose to have the thorns, with Thee, 
 dear Lord, with Thee ! 
 
 Man # judgeth man in ignorance, he seeth but in part; 
 
 Our trust is in our Maker, God, Who searcheth every 
 heart; 
 
 And every wrong and every woe, when put beneath 
 our feet, 
 
 As stepping-stones may help us on to His high 
 mercy-seat. 
 
 Then teach us still to smile, O Lord ! though sharp 
 the stones may be, 
 
 Remembering that they bring us near to Thee, dear 
 Lord, to Thee ! 
 
 3240. SUBMISSION. Example of 
 
 Christ had His sorrows—so must thou, 
 
 If thou wilt tread the path He trod— 
 
 Oh then, like Him, submissive bow, 
 
 And own the sovereignty^ God. 
 
 3241. SUBMISSION, tested. 
 
 When, blooming with the strength and pride of 
 youth, 
 
 Crown’d with Health’s chaplet, mind and heart 
 aglow 
 
 With strong desire to serve my Lord, to sow 
 Broadcast about my path rich seeds of truth, 
 
 And crush the evils which, with pois’nous tooth. 
 Lurk’d, ready for the spring and fatal blow, 
 
 Beside the paths where men walk’d to and fro, 
 
 I said, ‘ I can be anything, in sooth, 
 
 For Christ. ’ And now the dear Lord testeth me. 
 Shorn of my strength by dread disease, I find 
 I must be laid aside, while others bind 
 
 The sheaves and sow the seed, content to be 
 Nothing. Lord, I am in Thy hands. For Thee 
 Nothing or anything I’ll be,—resign’d.— Burr . 
 
 3242. SUCCESS: cannot be commanded. 
 
 ’Tis not in mortals to command success ; 
 
 But we’ll do more, Sempronius,—we’ll deserve it. 
 
 Addison . 
 
 Success, the mark no mortal wit, 
 
 Or surest hand, can always hit; 
 
 For, whatsoe’er we perpetrate, 
 
 We do but row, we’re steer’d by fate. 
 
 Butler. 
 
 3243. SUCCESS: not essential to happiness. 
 
 What most of all to real happiness 
 Doth tend, in this perplexing world of ours. 
 
 Is this—to think upon and recollect 
 What best we each have striven to perform, 
 
 Not that in which we have succeeded best. 
 
 Success is sweet, but sweeter still the thought 
 That we have lived through disappointment’s pang. 
 And learn’d to feel that ill success is best; 
 
 Still hoping on, with courage high, for bliss, 
 
 Far greater than this world can e’er bestow. 
 
 Yet hard the lesson, difficult the task— 
 
 Then great the triumph—passing great the joy 
 
SUCCESS 
 
 627 
 
 SUFFERING 
 
 Of looking back upon the battle-field,— 
 
 Upon the mortal combat which we fought, 
 
 By help from One to whom we bow’d our will, 
 Content to have those very wishes cross’d 
 Which we had fondly deem’d our best, nor seek 
 To question, or to know the hidden cause 
 Of failure—no ! nor murmur in our hearts 
 (Though oft thereto inclining sinfully) 
 
 At obstacles most useless in our eyes. 
 
 Lady Chattcrton. 
 
 3244. SUCCESS: ‘Nothing succeeds like suc¬ 
 
 cess.’ 
 
 Virtue without success 
 Is a fair picture shown by an ill light; 
 
 But lucky men are favourites of Heaven : 
 
 All own the chief when fortune owns the cause. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 Had I miscarried, I had been a villain; 
 
 For men judge actions always by events: 
 
 But when we manage by a just foresight, 
 
 Success is prudence, and possession right. 
 
 Higgons. 
 
 It is success that colours all in life : 
 
 Success makes fools admired, makes villains honest, 
 All the proud virtue of this vaunting world 
 Fawns on success and power, howe’er acquired. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 What though I am a villain, who so bold 
 To tell me so? let your poor petty traitors 
 Feel the vindictive lash and scourge for wrong ; 
 But who shall tax successful villany, 
 
 Or call the rising traitor to account ?— Havard. 
 
 Applause 
 
 Waits on success ; the fickle multitude, 
 
 Like the light straw that floats along the stream, 
 Glide with the current still, and follow fortune. 
 
 Franklin. 
 
 3245. SUCCESS. Unsatisfactory 
 
 Now in frail bark, and on the storm-toss’d wave. 
 Doth this, my life, approach the common port, 
 Whither all haste to render up account 
 Of every act—the erring and the just. 
 
 Wherefore I now do see, that by the love 
 V hich render’d Art mine idol and my Lord 
 I did much err. Vain are the loves of man, 
 
 And error lurks within his very thought. 
 
 Light hours of this my life, where are ye now, 
 
 When towards a twofold death my foot draws near ? 
 r l he one well-known, the other threatening loud. 
 
 Not the erst-worshipp’d Art can now give peace 
 To him whose soul turns to that love Divine, 
 
 Whose arms shall lift him from the Cross to Heaven. 
 
 Michael Angelo. 
 
 3246. SUFFERING. Appointment of 
 
 Suffering is the vjork now sent; 
 
 Nothing can I do but lie 
 Suffering as the hours go by : 
 
 All my powers to this are bent. 
 
 Suffering is my gain ; I bow 
 To my heavenly Father’s will, 
 
 And receive it hush’d and still. 
 
 Suffering is my worship now. 
 
 3247. SUFFERING. Fruits of 
 
 Most wretched men 
 Are cradled into poetry by wrong; 
 
 They learn in suffering what they teach in song. 
 
 Shelley. 
 
 Cast off the weakness of regret, and gird thee to re¬ 
 deem thy loss ; 
 
 Thou hast gain’d, in the furnace of affliction, self- 
 knowledge, patience, and humility, 
 
 And these be as precious ore, that waiteth the skill 
 of the coiner; 
 
 Despise not the blessings of adversity nor the gain. 
 
 thou hast earn’d so hardly. 
 
 And now thou hast drain’d the bitter, take heed that 
 thou lose not the sweet.— Tupyer. 
 
 The hour of anguish passes by; 
 
 But in the spirit there remains 
 The outgrowth of its agony, 
 
 The compensation of its pains. 
 
 In meekness, which suspects no wrong, 
 
 In patience, which endures control, 
 
 In faith, which makes the spirit strong, 
 
 In peace and purity of souL — Upham. 
 
 324S. SUFFERING. Influence of 
 
 Suffering curbs our wayward passions, 
 Child-like tempers in us fashions, 
 
 And our will to His subdues: 
 
 Thus His hand, so soft and healing. 
 
 Each disorder’d power and feeling, 
 
 By a blessed change renews. 
 
 Suffering keeps the thoughts compacted. 
 
 That the soul be not distracted 
 By the world’s beguiling art ; 
 
 ’Tis like some angelic warder 
 Ever keeping sacred order 
 In the chambers of the heart. 
 
 Suffering tunes the heart’s emotion 
 To eternity’s devotion, 
 
 And awakes a fond desire 
 
 
SUFFERING 
 
 628 
 
 SUICIDE 
 
 For the land where psalms are ringing, 
 
 And with psalms the martyrs singing 
 
 Sweetly to the harpers’ choir.— Hartmann. 
 
 3249. SUFFERING. Intense 
 
 Light sufferings give us leisure to complain ; 
 
 We groan, but cannot speak, in greater pain. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 3250. SUFFERING. Lesson for the 
 
 Oh learn one truth, in all its fair completeness ! 
 
 A sorrow’s crown of thorns, if worn aright, 
 
 With calm humility and patient sweetness, 
 
 Becomes a crown of light ! 
 
 Each suffering heart by hope most unbefriended. 
 Should feel that if its faith to God be given, 
 
 When love and fortitude are closest blended, 
 
 It then is nearest Heaven ! 
 
 And every new brave smile our lips shall render 
 When human pain’s worst, weariest ways are trod, 
 Adds one fresh plume to those white wings of splen¬ 
 dour 
 
 Wherewith we shall meet God !— E. J. L. 
 
 3251. SUFFERING. Release from 
 
 Her suffering ended with the day; 
 
 Yet lived she at its close. 
 
 And breathed the long, long night away 
 In statue-like repose. 
 
 But when the sun in all his state 
 Illumed the eastern skies, 
 
 She pass’d through glory’s morning gate. 
 
 And walk’d in Paradise !— Aldrich. 
 
 3252. SUFFERING : to be patiently endured. 
 
 Be strong to bear, O Heart ! 
 
 Nothing is vain: 
 
 Strive not, for life is care. 
 
 And God sends pain ; 
 
 Heaven is above, and there 
 Rest will remain !— 
 
 Adelaide A. Procter. 
 
 3253. SUICIDE. 
 
 ’Gainst self-slaughter 
 There is a prohibition so divine 
 That cravens my weak hand.— Shakespeare. 
 
 ’Tis not courage, when the darts of chance 
 Are thrown against our state, to turn our backs 
 And basely run to death ; as if the hand 
 Of Heaven and Nature had lent nothing else 
 
 T’ oppose against mishap, but loss of life ; 
 
 Which is to fly, and not to conquer it.— Jonson. 
 
 When affliction thunders o’er our roofs ; 
 
 To hide our heads, and run into our graves, 
 Shows us no men, but makes us fortune’s slaves. 
 
 Jonson. 
 
 He 
 
 That kills himself t’ avoid misery, fears it, 
 
 And at the best shows but a bastard valour. 
 This life’s a fort committed to my trust, 
 
 Which I must not yield up, till it be forced ; 
 Nor will I: he’s not valiant that dares die ; 
 
 But he that boldly bears calamity.— Massinger. 
 
 Fear, guilt, despair, and moon-struck frenzy, rush 
 On voluntary death : the wise, the brave, 
 
 When the fierce storms of fortune round ’em roar, 
 Combat the billows with redoubled force : 
 
 Then, if they perish ere the port is gain’d, 
 
 They sink with decent pride ; and from the deep 
 Honour retrieves them bright as rising stars. 
 
 Fenton. 
 
 Our time is set and fix’d ; our days are told; 
 
 And no man knows the limit of his life; 
 
 This minute may be mine, the next another’s ; 
 
 But still all mortals ought to wait the summons. 
 And not usurp on the decrees of fate, 
 
 By hastening their own ends.— Smith. 
 
 Fool! I mean not 
 
 That poor-soul’d piece of heroism, self-slaughter : 
 Oh no ! the miserablest day we live 
 There’s many a better thing to do than die ! 
 
 Darley. 
 
 Venture not rashly on an unknown being : 
 
 E’en the most perfect shun the brink of death, 
 
 And shudder at the prospect of futurity.— Savage. 
 
 Take heed 
 
 How you do threaten Heaven by menacing 
 Yourself ; as w r e have no authority 
 To take away the being of another whom 
 Our pride contemns, so we have less t annihilate 
 Our own when it is fallen in our dislike. 
 
 Davenant. 
 
 Death may be call’d in vain, and cannot come; 
 Tyrants may tie him up from your relief; 
 
 Nor has a Christian privilege to die. 
 
 Brutus and Cato might discharge their souls. 
 
 And give them furloughs for another world, 
 
 But we, like sentries, are obliged to stand 
 In starless nights, and wait th’ appointed hour. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
SUN 
 
 629 
 
 SUNDAY 
 
 When all the blandishments of life are gone, 
 
 The coward sneaks to death, the brave live on. 
 
 Seivell. 
 
 Our time is fix’d, and all our days are number’d ; 
 How long, how short, we know not: this we know, 
 Duty requires we calmly wait the summons, 
 
 Nor dare to stir till Heaven shall give permission. 
 Like sentries that must keep their destined stand, 
 And wait the appointed hour, till they’re relieved. 
 Those only are the brave who keep their ground, 
 
 And keep it to the last. To run away 
 Is but a coward's trick : to run away 
 From this world’s ill, that at the very worst 
 Will soon blow o’er, thinking to mend ourselves 
 3y boldly venturing on a world unknown, 
 
 And plunging headlong in the dark ! ’tis mad ! 
 
 No frenzy half so desperate as this.— Blair. 
 
 If there be an hereafter, 
 
 And that there is, conscience, uninfluenced 
 And suffer’d to speak out, tells every man, 
 
 Then must it be an awful thing to die ; 
 
 More horrid yet to die by one’s own hand. 
 
 Blair. 
 
 3254. SUN. The 
 
 The self-same sun that shines upon his court 
 Hides not his visage from our cottage, but 
 Looks on both alike.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Then, higher, on the glittering sun I gazed, 
 
 Whose beams were shaded by the leavie tree ; 
 
 The more I look’d, the more I grew amazed, 
 
 And softly said, What glory’s like to thee ? 
 
 Soule of this world, this Universe’s eye, 
 
 No wonder some made thee a deity ; 
 
 Had I not better known (alas), the same had I. 
 
 Thou as a bridegroom from thy chamber rushest, 
 And as a strong man joyes to run a race ; 
 
 The morn doth usher thee, with smiles and blushes, 
 The earth reflects her glances in thy face; 
 
 Birds, insects, animals, with vegetive, 
 
 Thy heat from death and dulness doth revive : 
 
 And in the darksome womb of fruitful nature dive. 
 
 Thy swift annual and diurnal course, 
 
 Thy daily straight and yearly oblique path, 
 
 Thy pleasing fervour and thy scorching force, 
 
 All mortals here the feeling knowledge hath. 
 
 Thy presence makes it day, thy absence night; 
 Quaternal seasons caused by thy might : 
 
 Hail, creature, full of sweetness, beauty, and delight! 
 
 Art thou so full of glory, that no eye 
 
 Hath strength thy shining rayes once to behold? 
 And is thy splendid throne erect so high 
 As to approach it can no earthly mould ? 
 
 How full of glory then must thy Creator be. 
 Who,gave this bright light lustre unto thee ! 
 Admired, adored for ever, be that Majesty! 
 
 Anne Bradstreet. 
 
 I marvel not, O Sun ! that unto thee 
 In adoration man should bow the knee 
 And pour the prayer of mingled awe and love ; 
 For like a god thou art, and on thy way 
 Of glory sheddest, with benignant ray, 
 
 Beauty, and life, and joyance from above. 
 
 Southey. 
 
 Blest power of sunshine ! genial day ! 
 
 What balm, what life, are in thy ray ! 
 
 To feel thee is such real bliss, 
 
 That had the world no joy but this, 
 
 To sit in sunshine calm and sweet, 
 
 It were a world too exquisite 
 For man to leave it for the gloom, 
 
 The deep cold shadow, of the tomb.— Moore. 
 
 3255. SUNDAY. Pre-eminence of the 
 
 O DAY most calm, most bright. 
 
 The fruit of this, the next world’s bud, 
 
 The indorsement of supreme delight, 
 
 Writ by a Friend, and with His blood ; 
 
 The couch of time, care’s balm and bay ! 
 The week were dark, but for thy light! 
 
 Thy torch doth show the way. 
 
 The other days and thou 
 Make up one man ; whose face thou art. 
 Knocking at heaven with thy brow : 
 
 The worky-days are the back part; 
 
 The burthen of the week lies there. 
 
 Making the whole to stoop and bow, 
 
 Till thy release appear. 
 
 Sundays the pillars are, 
 
 On which heaven’s palace arched lies : 
 
 The other days fill up the spare 
 And hollow room with vanities. 
 
 They are the fruitful beds and borders 
 Of God’s rich garden : that is bare 
 
 Which parts their ranks and orders. 
 
 The Sundays of man’s life, 
 
 Threaded together on time’s string, 
 
 Make bracelets to adorn the wife 
 Of the eternal glorious King. 
 
 On Sunday heaven’s gate stands ope; 
 Blessings are plentiful and rife, 
 
 More plentiful than hope. 
 
 This day my Saviour rose, 
 
 And did enclose this light for His, 
 
SUNDAY 
 
 630 
 
 SYMPATHY 
 
 That, as each beast his manger knows, 
 
 Man might not of his fodder miss. 
 
 Christ hath took in this piece of ground. 
 
 And made a garden there for those 
 Who want herbs for their wound. 
 
 Thou art a day of mirth ; 
 
 And where the week-days trail on ground. 
 
 Thy flight is higher, as thy birth ; 
 
 Oh let me take thee at the bound, 
 
 Leaping with thee from seven to seven, 
 
 Till that we both, being toss’d from earth. 
 
 Fly hand in hand to heaven.— Herbert. 
 
 3256. SUNDAY. Similes of 
 
 Bright shadows of true rest! some shoots of bliss. 
 Heaven once a week ; 
 
 The next world’s gladness prepossest in this ; 
 
 A day to seek : 
 
 Eternity in time ; the steps by which 
 
 We climb above all ages ; lamps that light 
 Man through his heap of dark days and the rich 
 And full redemption of the whole week’s flight! 
 
 The pulleys unto headlong man ; time’s bower; 
 
 The narrow way; 
 
 Transplanted paradise; God’s walking hour. 
 
 The cool o’ th’ day ! 
 
 The creature’s jubilee ; God’s parle with dust; 
 Heaven here : man on those hills of myrrh and 
 flowers; 
 
 Angels descending ; the returns of trust; 
 
 A gleam of glory after six days’ showers ! 
 
 The Church’s love-feasts ; time’s prerogative. 
 
 And interest 
 
 Deducted from the whole ; the combs and hive, 
 
 And home of rest. 
 
 The milky-way chalkt out with suns; a clue, 
 
 That guides through erring hours ; and in full story 
 A taste of heaven on earth ; the pledge and cue 
 Of a full feast; and the out-courts of glory. 
 
 Henry Vaughan. 
 
 3257. SUPERSTITION. 
 
 England a happy land we know. 
 
 Where follies naturally grow, 
 
 Where without culture they arise, 
 
 And tower above the common size ; 
 
 England a fortune-telling host, 
 
 As numerous as the stars could boast. 
 Matrons, who toss the cup, and see 
 The grounds of fate in grounds of tea. 
 
 Churchill. 
 
 What a reasonless machine 
 Can superstition make the reasoner man ! 
 
 Miller. 
 
 ’Tis Christian science makes our day, 
 
 And Freedom lends her lovely ray ; 
 
 And we forget ’neath our lair skies. 
 
 The world that still in shadow lies ;— 
 
 That India bows to Juggernaut;— 
 
 - And China worships gods of clay; 
 
 And healing amulets are bought. 
 
 Even where our Saviour’s body lay ; 
 
 And holy miracles are wrought 
 
 Beneath St Peter’s cross-crown’d sway; 
 And over Afric’s wide domain 
 The powers of Death and Darkness reign ! 
 
 Mrs Hale. 
 
 3258. SURRENDER. Entire 
 
 Peace has unveil’d her smiling face. 
 
 And woos the soul to her embrace ; 
 
 Enjoy’d with ease, if thou refrain 
 From selfish love, else sought in vain ; 
 
 She dwells with all who. truth, prefer, 
 
 But seeks not them who'seek not her. 
 
 Yield to the Lord, with simple heart, 
 
 All that thou hast, and all thou art; 
 Renounce all strength but strength Divine ; 
 And peace shall be for ever thine : 
 
 Behold the path which I have trod, 
 
 My path, till I go home to God. 
 
 Madame Guy an. 
 
 3259. SUSPENSE. 
 
 But be not long, for-in the tedious minutes. 
 Exquisite interval, I’m on the rack : 
 
 For sure the greatest evil man can know, 
 Bears no proportion to the dread suspense. 
 
 Frowde. 
 
 Uncertainty! 
 
 Fell demon of our fears ! The human soul, 
 That can support despair, supports not thee. 
 
 Mallet. 
 
 3260. SYMPATHY. Beauty of 
 
 No radiant pearl which crested fortune wears, 
 
 No gem that twinkling hangs from beauty’s ears, 
 Not the bright stars whichmight’s blue arch adorn. 
 Nor rising sun that gilds the vernal morn, 
 
 Shine with such lustre as the tear that flows 
 Down Virtue’s manly cheek for others’ woes. 
 
 Darwin. 
 
 3261. SYMPATHY. Effects of 
 
 The soul of music slumbers in the shell 
 Till waked and kindled by the master’s spell; 
 And feeling hearts, touch them but rightly, pour 
 A thousand melodies unheard before.— Rogers. 
 
SYMPATHY 
 
 631 
 
 TALENTS 
 
 3262. SYMPATHY. God’s 
 
 Thou mayest smile, perchance, as mothers smile 
 On sobbing children, seeing, all the while, 
 
 How soon will pass away the endless grief, 
 
 How soon will come the gladness and relief; 
 
 But if Thou smilest, yet Thy sympathy 
 Measures my grief by what it is to me. 
 
 And not the less Thy love doth understand. 
 
 And not the less, with tender, pitying hand. 
 
 Thou wipest all my tears, and the sad face 
 Doth cherish to a smile in Thy embrace, 
 
 Until the pain is gone, and Thou dost say, 5 
 ‘ Go now, my child, and work for me to-day.’ 
 
 3263. SYMPATHY: misdirected. 
 
 In the same beaten channel still have run 
 The blessed streams of human sympathy ; 
 
 And though I know this ever hath been done, 
 
 The why and wherefore I could never see: 
 
 Why some such sorrow for their griefs have won, 
 And some, unpitied, bear their misery, 
 
 Are mysteries which thinking o’er and o’er 
 Has left me nothing wiser than before. 
 
 What bitter tears of agony have flow’d 
 O’er the sad pages of some old romance ! 
 
 How Beauty’s cheek beneath those drops has glow d, 
 That dimm’d the sparkling lustre of her glance, 
 And on some love-sick maiden is bestow’d, 
 
 Or some rejected, hapless knight, perchance, 
 
 All her deep sympathies, until her moans 
 Stifle the nearer sound of living groans. 
 
 Phoebe Carey. 
 
 3264. S YMPATHY. Need of 
 
 It is not well. 
 
 Here in the land of Christian liberty, 
 
 That honest worth or hopeless want should dwell 
 Unaided by our care and sympathy. 
 
 Phoebe Carey. 
 
 Oh, there is need that on men’s hearts should fall 
 A spirit that can sympathize with all! 
 
 Phoebe Carey. 
 
 3265. SYMPATHY. Power of 
 
 Let our finger ache, and it endues 
 Our other healthful members with a sense 
 Of pain.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Yet should some neighbour feel a pain 
 Just in the parts where I complain, 
 
 How many a message would he send ! 
 
 What hearty prayers that I should mend 2 
 Inquire what regimen I kept, 
 
 What gave me ease, and- how I slept ?— Swift. 
 
 It is the secret sympathy, 
 
 The silver link, the silken tie, 
 
 Which heart to heart, and mind to mind, 
 
 In body and in soul can bind.— Scott. 
 
 3266. SYMPATHY: seldom found. 
 
 Oh ! ask not, hope not thou too much 
 Of sympathy below; 
 
 Few are the hearts whence one same touch 
 Bids the sweet fountain flow r .— Mrs Hemans . 
 
 3267. TACT. Importance of 
 
 What boots it thy virtue. 
 
 What profit thy parts, 
 
 While one thing thou lackest— 
 
 The art of all arts ? 
 
 The only credentials. 
 
 Passport to success, 
 
 Opens castle and parlour— 
 
 Address, man, address. 
 
 Church, market, and tavern. 
 
 Bed and board it will sway; 
 
 It has no to-morrow ; 
 
 It ends with to-day.— Emerson. 
 
 3268. TALENTS : apart from virtue. 
 
 Talents angel-bright. 
 
 If wanting worth, are shining instruments, 
 
 In false ambition’s hand, to finish faults 
 Illustrious, and give infamy renown.— Young. 
 
 3269. TALENTS. Parable of 
 
 There went a man from home : and to his neigh¬ 
 bours twain 
 
 He gave to keep for him two sacks of golden grain. 
 Deep in his cellar one the precious charge conceal d ; 
 And forth the other went and strew’d it in the field. 
 The man returns at last—asks of the first his sack : 
 
 ‘ Here, take it; ’tis the same; thou hast it safely 
 back.’ 
 
 Unharm’d it shows without, but when he would 
 explore 
 
 His sack’s recesses, corn there finds he now no more : 
 One-half of all therein proves rotten and decay’d, 
 Upon the other half have worms and mildew prey’d. 
 The putrid heap to him in ire he doth return ; 
 
 And of the other asks, ‘ Where is my sack of corn ? ’ 
 Who answer’d, ‘ Come with me, behold how it has 
 sped,’ 
 
 And took and show’d him fields where waving 
 harvests spread. 
 
TALENTS 
 
 632 
 
 TASTE 
 
 Then cheerfully the man laugh’d out and cried, 
 ‘This one 
 
 Had sight, to make up for the other that had none : 
 
 The letter he observed, but thou the precept’s sense : 
 
 And thus to thee and me shall profit grow from 
 hence. 
 
 In harvest thou shalt fill two sacks for me, 
 
 The residue of right remains in full for thee.’ 
 
 Trench. 
 
 3270. TALENTS. Respect for others’ 
 
 A NIGHTINGALE, that all day long 
 Had cheer’d the village with his song, 
 
 Nor yet at eve his note suspended, 
 
 Nor yet when eventide was ended, 
 
 Began to feel—as well he might— 
 
 The keen demands of appetite ; 
 
 When, looking eagerly around, 
 
 He spied, far off, upon the ground, 
 
 A something shining in the dark, 
 
 And knew the glow-worm by his spark ; 
 
 So, stooping down from hawthorn top, 
 
 He thought to put him in his crop. 
 
 The worm, aware of his intent, 
 
 Harangued him thus, quite eloquent : 
 
 ‘Did you admire my lamp,’ quoth he, 
 
 ‘As much as I your minstrelsy, 
 
 You would abhor to do me wrong, 
 
 As much as I to spoil your song; 
 
 For ’twas the self-same power Divine 
 Taught you to sing and me to shine ; 
 
 That you with music, I with light, 
 
 Might beautify and cheer the night.’ 
 
 The songster heard his short oration, 
 
 And, warbling out his approbation, 
 
 Released him, as my story tells, 
 
 And found a supper somewhere else.— Cowpei\ 
 
 3271. TALENTS: rightly used. 
 
 May I remember, that to Thee 
 What e’er I have I owe ; 
 
 And back in gratitude from me 
 May all Thy bounties flow. 
 
 Thy gifts are only then enjoy’d, 
 
 When used as talents lent; 
 
 Those talents only well employ’d, 
 
 When in Thy service spent. 
 
 3272. TALK. Careless 
 
 Unless thou find occasion, hold thy tongue ; 
 
 Thyself or others careless talk may wrong. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 3273. TALKERS. 
 
 Talkers are no good doers: be assured 
 We go to use our hands, and not our tongues. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 3274. TALKING. Constrained 
 
 The circle form’d, we sit in silent state, 
 
 Like figures drawn upon a dial plate ; 
 
 Yes, ma’am, and no, ma’am, uttered softly, show 
 Every five minutes how the minutes go ; 
 
 Each individual suffering a constraint, 
 
 Poetry may, but colours cannot paint; 
 
 As if in close committee on the sky ,1 
 Reports it hot or cold, or wet or dry ; 
 
 And finds a changing clime a happy source 
 Of wise reflection, and well-timed discourse. 
 
 We next inquire, but softly and by stealth, 
 
 Like conservators of the public health, 
 
 Of epidemic throats, if such there are, 
 
 And coughs and rheums, and phthisic, and catarrh. 
 That theme exhausted, a wide chasm ensues, 
 
 Fill’d up at last with interesting news, 
 
 Who danced with whom, and who are like to wed, 
 And who is hang’d, and who is brought to bed ; 
 
 But fear to call a more important cause, 
 
 As if ’twere treason against English laws. 
 
 The visit paid, with ecstasy we come, 
 
 As from a seven years’ transportation, home, 
 
 And there resume an unembarrass’d brow, 
 Recovering what we lost, we know not how, 
 
 The faculties that seem’d reduced to nought, 
 Expression and the privilege of thought.— Coztper. 
 
 3275. TALKING. Dignity of 
 
 Speech is the golden harvest that followeth the 
 flowering of thought; 
 
 Yet oftentimes runneth it to husk, and the grains be 
 wither’d and scanty: 
 
 Speech is reason’s brother, and a kingly perogative 
 of man, 
 
 That likeneth him to his Maker, who spake, and it 
 was done : 
 
 Spirit may mingle with spirit, but sense requireth a 
 symbol ; 
 
 And speech is the body of a thought, without which 
 it were not seen.— Tapper. 
 
 3276. TASTE. Innate 
 
 Not content 
 
 With every food of life to nourish man, 
 
 By kind illusions of the wondering sense, 
 
 Thou makest all Nature beauty to his eye, 
 
TEACHER 
 
 633 
 
 TEACHER 
 
 Or music to his ear. Well-pleased, he scans' 
 
 The goodly prospect; and, with inward smiles, 
 Treads the gay verdure of the painted plain ; 
 Beholds the azure canopy of heaven, 
 
 And living lamps that over-arch his head 
 With more than regal splendour; bends his ears 
 To the full choir of water, air, and earth ; 
 
 Nor heeds the pleasing error of his thought, 
 
 Nor doubts the painted green or azure arch, 
 
 Nor questions more the music’s mingling sounds, 
 Than space or motion or eternal time ; 
 
 So sweet he feels their influence to attract 
 The fixed soul, to brighten the dull glooms 
 Of care, and make the destined road of life 
 Delightful to his feet. So fables tell, 
 
 The adventurous hero, bound on hard exploits, 
 Beholds with glad surprise, by secret spells 
 Of some kind sage, the patron of his toils, 
 
 A visionary paradise disclosed 
 Amid the dubious wild : with streams and shades 
 And airy songs, the enchanted landscape smiles, 
 Cheers his long labours, and renews his frame. 
 
 What then is taste, but these internal powers 
 Active and strong, and feelingly alive 
 To each fine impulse ? a discerning sense 
 Of decent and sublime, with quick disgust 
 From things deform’d or disarranged, or gross 
 In species ? This, nor gems, nor stores of gold, 
 Nor purple state, nor culture can bestow. 
 
 But God alone, when first His active hand 
 Imprints the semet bias of the soul.— Akenside. 
 
 3277. TEACHER. Dignity of the 
 
 The angel-choir His praise may chant in rapturous 
 songs above, 
 
 And through the universe His power adoringly 
 proclaim ; 
 
 But they can never win for Christ a child’s first 
 ardent love, 
 
 Nor whisper in an infant’s ear the Saviour’s 
 precious name. 
 
 O happy teacher! to whose trust this glorious work 
 is given, 
 
 A work unshared by those who dwell amid the joys 
 of heaven. 
 
 * Feed, feed My lambs ! ’ in all its sweet persuasive¬ 
 ness to-day, 
 
 This message from a Saviour’s lips, O Christian, 
 reaches thee. 
 
 Ask not, ‘ And what shall others do ? ’ but help with¬ 
 out delay, 
 
 To train the children of your class in peace and 
 purity. 
 
 And though, perchance, thou may’st not call earth’s 
 fading laurel thine, 
 
 Yet, bright as stars that gem night’s brows, thou 
 shalt for ever shine, j 
 
 3278. TEACHER. Encouragement for a 
 
 It may not be your lot to wield 
 The sickle in the crowded field ; 
 
 Not yours to hear on summer eves 
 
 The reaper’s song ’mid thick’ning sheaves, 
 
 ‘ Yet where your duty’s task is wrought 
 In unison with God’s great thought,’ 
 
 Know thou that there the Master’s eye 
 Surveys your work approvingly; 
 
 Smiles on your task with sweetest grace, 
 
 Though humble and obscure your place. 
 
 Faint not; the crown is only won 
 Through patient toil, through duties done. 
 
 3279. TEACHER. The Village 
 
 Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the way. 
 
 With blossom’d furze unprofitably gay, 
 
 There, in his noisy mansion, skill’d to rule. 
 
 The village master taught his little school. 
 
 A man severe he was, and stern to view, 
 
 I knew him well, and every truant knew ; 
 
 Well had the boding tremblers learn’d to trace 
 The day’s disasters in his morning face ; 
 
 Full well they laugh’d with counterfeited glee 
 At all his jokes, for many a joke had he ; 
 
 Full well the busy whisper circling round 
 Convey’d the dismal tidings when he frown’d; 
 
 Yet he was kind, or if severe in aught, 
 
 The love he bore to learning was in fault. 
 
 The village all declared how much he knew, 
 
 ’Twas certain he could write and cipher too ; 
 
 Lands he could measure, times and tides presage. 
 And e’en the story ran that he could gauge ; 
 
 In arguing, too, the parson own d his skill, 
 
 For, e’en though vanquish’d, he could argue still, 
 While words of learned length and thundering sound 
 Amazed the gazing rustics ranged around ; 
 
 And still they gazed, and still the wonder grew 
 That one small head could carry all he knew. 
 
 Goldsmith . 
 
 3280. TEACHER. Work of the 
 
 Some lambs are miss’d from Jesus’ fold, 
 
 And straying far from home ; 
 
 ’Mid forests dark, and streams so cold, 
 
 The little lambs now roam. 
 
 Some gems to deck our Master’s crown 
 Are buried now on earth ; 
 
TEACHING 
 
 634 
 
 TEARS 
 
 Rich gems, whose lustre sin doth drown, 
 But still of priceless worth. 
 
 Some harps are needed in His choir. 
 Harps struck by infant hands ; 
 
 And tongues to sing with youthful fire 
 To swell those hymning bands. 
 
 To seek those lambs and lead them back ; 
 
 To find each sin-marred gem ; 
 
 To guide them to the heavenly track. 
 
 Fit for Christ’s diadem ; 
 
 To tune those infant tongues to sing 
 Redemption’s song in heaven ; 
 
 This is the work our loving King 
 To us on earth hath given. 
 
 3281. TEACHING. Demand for 
 
 Beautiful the children’s faces ! 
 
 Spite of all that mars and sears ; 
 
 To my inmost heart appealing ; 
 
 Calling forth love’s tenderest feeling ; 
 Steeping all my soul with tears. 
 
 Eloquent the children’s faces— 
 
 Poverty’s lean look, which saith, 
 
 Save us ! save us ! woe surrounds us ; 
 Little knowledge sore confounds us : 
 
 Life is but a lingering death ! 
 
 Give us light amid our darkness ; 
 
 Let us know the good from ill; 
 
 Hate us not for all our blindness ; 
 
 Love us, lead us, show us kindness— 
 
 You can make us what you will. 
 
 We are willing : we are ready : 
 
 We would learn, if you would teach : 
 
 We have hearts that yearn towards duty : 
 We have minds alive to beauty; 
 
 Souls that any heights can reach ! 
 
 Raise us by your Christian knowledge ; 
 
 Consecrate to man our powers ; 
 
 Let us take our proper station; 
 
 We, the rising generation, 
 
 Let us stamp the age as ours ! 
 
 We shall be what you will make us— 
 
 Make us wise, and make us good ! 
 
 Make us strong for time of trial; 
 
 Teach us temperance, self-denial, 
 
 Patience, kindness, fortitude ! 
 
 Mary Howitt. 
 
 3282. TEACHING. Simple 
 
 Friendly the teacher stood, like an angel of light 
 there among them, 
 
 And to the children explain’d he the holy, the high¬ 
 est in few words, 
 
 Thorough, yet simple and clear, for sublimity always 
 is simple ; 
 
 Both in sermon and song a child can seize on its 
 meaning. — Longfellow. 
 
 3283. TEARS : afford relief. 
 
 Tears, for a stroke foreseen, afford relief; 
 But unprovided for a sudden blow, 
 
 Like Niobe we marble grow, 
 
 And petrify with grief.— Dryden. 
 
 3284. TEARS. Beauty of 
 
 WHAT gem hath dropp’d, and sparkles o’er his chain ? 
 The tear most sacred shed for others’ pain, 
 
 That starts at once—bright, pure—from pity’s mine. 
 Already polish’d by the hand Divine.— Byron. 
 
 For Beauty’s tears are lovelier than her smile. 
 
 Campbell. 
 
 The rose is fairest when ’tis budding new, 
 
 And hope is brightest when it dawns from fears ; 
 The rose is sweetest wash’d with morning dew. 
 
 And love is loveliest when embalm’d in tears. 
 
 Scott. 
 
 3285. TEARS : common. 
 
 Thank God, bless God, all ye who suffer not 
 More grief than ye can weep for. That is well— 
 That is light grieving ! lighter none befell, 
 
 Since Adam forfeited the primal lot. 
 
 Tears ! what are tears? The babe weeps in its cot. 
 The mother singing : at her marriage bell 
 The bride weeps : and before the oracle 
 Of high-faned hills, the poet hath forgot 
 That moisture on his cheeks. Commend the grace. 
 Mourners who weep ! Albeit, as some have done, 
 Ye grope, tear-blinded, in a desert place, 
 
 And touch but tombs—look up ! These tears will 
 run 
 
 Soon, in long rivers, down the lifted face, 
 
 And leave the vision clear for stars and sun. 
 
 Mrs Brcnuning. 
 
 3286. TEARS : feed our woe. 
 
 But tears, alas ! are trifling things ; 
 
 They rather feed than heal our woe ; 
 
 From trickling eyes new sorrow springs, 
 
 As weeds in rainy seasons grow. — Watts. 
 
TEARS 
 
 635 
 
 TEMPER 
 
 / 
 
 3287. TEARS. Honourableness of 
 
 Hide not thy tears ; weep boldly—and be proud 
 To give the flowing virtue manly way : 
 
 ’Tis nature’s mark, to know an honest heart by. 
 
 Shame on those breasts of stone that cannot melt, 
 
 In soft adoption of another’s sorrow.— Hill. 
 
 Heaven, that knows 
 
 The weakness of our natures, will forgive, 
 
 Nay, must applaud, love’s debt, when decent paid j 
 Nor can the bravest mortal blame the tear 
 Which glitters on the bier of fallen worth. —Shirley. 
 
 3288. TEARS. Joys from 
 
 What ! we have many goodly days to see : 
 
 The liquid drops of tears that you have shed 
 Shall come again, transform’d to orient pearl; 
 Advantaging their loan, with interest 
 Of ten times double gain of happiness. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 The flowers live by the tears that fall from the sad 
 
 face of the skies, 
 
 And life would have no joys at all, were there no 
 
 watery eyes. 
 
 Love thou thy sorrow, grief- shall bring its own 
 excuse in after years. 
 
 The rainbow ! see how fair a thing God hath built 
 
 up from tears. 
 
 3289. TEARS. Penitential 
 
 Blest tears of soul-felt penitence ! 
 
 In whose benign, redeeming flow 
 Is felt the first, the only sense 
 
 Of guiltless joy that guilt may know ! 
 
 Moore. 
 
 Oh, turn, and be thou turn’d ! The selfish tear, 
 
 In bitter thoughts of low-born care begun, 
 
 Let it flow on, but flow refined and clear, 
 
 The turbid waters brightening as they run. 
 
 Let it flow on, till all thine earthly heart 
 In penitential drops have ebb’d away ; 
 
 Then, fearless, turn where Heaven hath set thy part. 
 Nor shudder at the eye that saw thee stray. 
 
 Oh, lost and found ! All gentle souls below 
 Their dearest welcome shall prepare, and prove 
 Such joy o’er thee as raptured seraphs know, 
 
 Who learn their lesson at the Throne of Love. 
 
 Keble. 
 
 3290. TEARS. Self-deceiving 
 
 What sadder scene can angels view 
 Than self-deceiving tears, 
 
 Pour’d idly over some dark page 
 Of earlier life, though pride or rage 
 A record of to-day engage, 
 
 A woe for future years ?— Keble. 
 
 3291. TEARS : woman’s weapons. 
 
 Oh ! too convincing dangerously dear 
 In woman’s eye the unanswerable tear ! 
 
 That weapon of her weakness she can wield. 
 
 To save, subdue,—at once her spear and shield. 
 Avoid it! virtue ebbs and wisdom errs, 
 
 Too fondly gazing on that grief of hers ! 
 
 What lost a world, and made a hero fly ? 
 
 The timid tear in Cleopatra’s eye.— Byron. 
 
 3292. TEMPER. Good 
 
 There’s not a cheaper thing on earth. 
 
 Nor yet one half.so dear ; 
 
 ’Tis worth more than distinguish’d birth. 
 
 Or thousands gain’d a year. 
 
 It maketh poverty content, 
 
 To sorrow whispers peace ; 
 
 It is a gift from heaven sent, 
 
 For mortals to increase. 
 
 A charm to banish grief away. 
 
 To free the brow from care— 
 
 Turns tears to smiles, makes dulness gay. 
 Spreads gladness everywhere. 
 
 And yet ’tis cheap as summer’s dew 
 That gems the lily’s breast— 
 
 A talisman for love as true 
 As ever man possess’d. 
 
 As smiles the rainbow through the cloud 
 When threat’ning storm begins, 
 
 As music ’mid the tempest loud 
 That still its sweet way wins, 
 
 As springs an arch across the tide 
 When waves conflicting foam, 
 
 So comes the seraph to our side, 
 
 The angel to our home. 
 
 What may this wondering spirit be. 
 
 With power unheard before ; 
 
 This charm, this bright divinity ? ♦ 
 
 Good nature—nothing more. 
 
 Good temper—’tis the choicest gift 
 That woman homeward brings, 
 
 And can the poorest peasant lift 
 To bliss unknown to kings. 
 
 Charles Swain, 
 
TEMPERANCE 
 
 636 
 
 TEMPT A TION 
 
 3293. TEMPERANCE. Chieftain of 
 
 The coming man will bravely stand, 
 Without the wine-glass in his hand, 
 
 A sun-crown’d chieftain of the land ; 
 
 A landmark, like the lofty pine 
 Which lifts on high its plumes of fir, 
 
 W hose root no fickle winds can stir ; 
 
 He, like an upright worshipper, 
 
 Will never stoop to taste of wine. 
 
 Strong of body, strong of soul, 
 
 Firm of purpose to control, 
 
 He will spurn the tempting bowl 
 In the shadow of the vine. 
 
 No taint of wine in his full brains, 
 
 No trembling hand will hold the reins 
 When he who rules shall drink no wine. 
 
 Bungay. 
 
 3294. TEMPERANCE. Rewards of 
 
 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 ; 
 
 Nor did I with unbashful forehead woo 
 The means of weakness and debility : 
 
 Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, 
 
 Frosty, but kindly.— Shakespeare. 
 
 If thou well observe 
 
 The rule of—not too much,—by temperance taught 
 In what thou eat’st and drink’st, seeking from thence 
 Due nourishment, not gluttonous delight, 
 
 7 Till many years over thy head return : 
 
 So may’st thou live, till like ripe fruit thou drop, 
 
 Into thy mother’s lap, or be with ease 
 Gather’d, not harshly pluck’d ; in death mature. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 Philosophy, religious solitude, 
 
 And labour wait on temperance ; in these 
 Desire is bounded ; they instruct the mind’s 
 And body’s action.— Nabb. 
 
 Health and liberty 
 
 Attend on these bare meals ; if all were blest 
 W ith such a temperance, what man would fawn, 
 
 Or to his belly sell his liberty ? 
 
 I here would be then no slaves, no sycophants 
 At great men’s tables.— May. 
 
 Fatal effects of luxury and ease ! 
 
 Wfe drink our poison, and we eat disease, 
 
 Indulge our senses at our reason’s cost, 
 
 Till sense is pain, and reason hurt or lost. 
 
 Not so, O Temperance bland ! when ruled by thee, 
 
 I he brute’s obedient, and the man is free. 
 
 Soft are his slumbers, balmy is his rest, 
 
 His veins not boiling from the midnight feast. 
 
 Touch’d by Aurora’s rosy hand, he wakes 
 Peaceful and calm, and with the world partakes 
 The joyful dawnings of returning day, 
 
 For which their grateful thanks the whole creation 
 P a y, 
 
 All but the human br.ute : ’tis he alone, 
 
 Whose works of darkness fly the rising sun. 
 
 ’Tis to thy rules, O Temperance ! that we owe 
 All pleasures, which from health and strength can 
 flow ; 
 
 Vigour of body, purity of mind, 
 
 Unclouded reason, sentiments refined, 
 
 Unmixt, untainted joys, without remorse, 
 
 Th’ intemperate sinner’s never-failing curse. 
 
 Mary Chandler. 
 
 3295. TEMPERANCE. Work of 
 
 It’s a work of prevention and cure; 
 
 A work for the rich and the poor; 
 
 A work that is slow and yet sure ; 
 
 A work whose effects will endure. 
 
 Then shout for it, hearer and preacher; 
 
 Shout for it, master and man ; 
 
 Shout for it, scholar and teacher ; 
 
 Praise it wherever you can. 
 
 Temperance lessens the stealers, 
 
 Robbing by day and by night; 
 
 Temperance adds to the kneelers 
 Who in religion delight. 
 
 Temperance aids the repealers 
 Of the infamous liquor laws ; 
 
 Temperance helps the revealers 
 Of light on our nation’s cause. 
 
 It’s a work for the old and young, 
 
 It’s a work for the pen and tongue. 
 
 It’s a work for pulpit and pew, 
 
 It’s a work for me and for you. 
 
 3296. TEMPLE. Building of the 
 
 Silently as a dream the fabric rose, 
 
 No sound of hammer or of saw was there. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 No hammers fell, no ponderous axes rung ; 
 
 Like some tall palm the mystic fabric sprung ; 
 Majestic silence !— Heber. 
 
 3297. TEMPTATION: Comfort for the Tempted. 
 
 A worthy man of Paris town 
 Came to the bishop there : 
 
 His face, o’erclouded with dismay, 
 
 Betray’d a fix’d despair. 
 
 ‘ Father,’ said he, ‘a sinner vile, 
 
 Am I against my will; 
 
TEMPT A TION 
 
 637 
 
 TEMPTATION 
 
 Each hour I humbly pray for faith, 
 
 But am a doubter still. 
 
 * Sure, were I not despised of God, 
 
 He would not leave me so, 
 
 To struggle thus in constant strife 
 Against the deadly foe.’ 
 
 The bishop to his sorrowing son 
 Thus spake a kind relief: 
 
 4 The King of France has castles twain ; 
 
 To each he sends a chief. 
 
 ‘ There’s Montelhery, far inland. 
 
 That stands in place secure ; 
 
 While La Rochelle, upon the coast. 
 
 Doth sieges oft endure. 
 
 ‘ Now for these castles,—both preserved,— 
 First in his prince’s love 
 Shall Montelhery’s chief be placed. 
 
 Or La Rochelle’s above ? ’ 
 
 ‘ Oh, doubtless, sire,’ the sinner said, 
 
 ‘ That king will love the most 
 The man whose task was hard to keep 
 His castle on the coast! ’ 
 
 ‘ Son,’ said the bishop, ‘ thou art right; 
 
 Apply this reasoning well: 
 
 My heart is Montelhery fort, 
 
 And thine is La Rochelle ! ’ 
 
 3298. TEMPTATION. Danger of 
 
 Perhaps thou dost but try me—yet take heed ! 
 There’s nought so monstrous but the mind of man. 
 In some condition, may be brought to approve : 
 Theft, sacrilege, treason, and parricide. 
 
 When flattering opportunity enticed, 
 
 And desperation drove, have been committed 
 By those who once would start to hear them named. 
 
 Lillo. 
 
 3299. TEMPTATION. Help in 
 
 Though temptations round thy path 
 Lift their serpent-heads in wrath,— 
 
 Though the heavy tear-drops start, 
 
 Whilst the cloud is on thy heart,— 
 
 Though thy hope sends not a glance 
 From his hidden countenance,— 
 
 Jesus can thy trials see ; 
 
 He was tempted once like thee. 
 
 Mary Anne Gray. 
 
 3300. TEMPTATION : is not sin. 
 
 Evil into the mind of God or man 
 
 May come and go, so unapproved, and leave 
 
 No spot or blame behind.— Milton. 
 
 3301. TEMPTATION : may be resisted. 
 
 Secure of outward force, within himself 
 The danger lies, yet lies within his power : 
 Against his will he can receive no harm. 
 
 Milton • 
 
 3302. TEMPTATION. Prayer for help in 
 
 Lord, bear me company ; 
 
 Alone I dare not climb the mountain height; 
 Alone I dare not face the bitter night, 
 
 The fearsome watch, the Adversary’s might. 
 
 Oh ! bear me company. 
 
 Let me cling close to Thee. 
 
 I climb the steep with faint and faltering tread ; 
 
 I tremble with a strange, unknowing dread ; 
 
 My heart within feels numb and cold and dead. 
 Oh ! keep me close to Thee. 
 
 Abide with me, O Lord ; 
 
 For I a vigil long and sad must keep ; 
 
 Mine eyes their bitter, unshed tears must weep ; 
 Ay, I must watch and pray while others sleep. 
 
 Oh! leave me not, dear Lord. 
 
 Lord, intercede for me. 
 
 O Hands that pierced hung on Calvary’s tree, 
 
 O Head, sore-bruised and thorn-crown’d for me, 
 O Heart that broke with world-weigh'd agony, 
 Now intercede for me. 
 
 Support and comfort me ; 
 
 For in the wilderness, alone, apart, 
 
 I and my weary and sin-burden’d heart 
 Must face the Tempter, meet his cruel dart. 
 
 O Jesus, comfort me ! 
 
 There is no helper else. 
 
 Unless thou hear’st my anguish’d, pleading cry, 
 Unless thou climb’st with me the mountain high. 
 In vain the vigil—I shall faint and die. 
 
 Thou only, Lord, canst help. 
 
 O Lamb who once wast slain, 
 
 Who all the sad world’s sin dost take away, 
 Hear thou my cry. Oh ! close beside me stay ; 
 Take thou my burden, light my doleful way, 
 Thou who art risen again. 
 
 Conquer for me, O Lord. 
 
 Uphold me through the long and bitter fast— 
 Ay, till the Tempter’s power be overpast. 
 
 Give me the victory, by Thy grace, at last. 
 Conquer for me, O Lord. 
 
 Mary E. C. Wyeth. 
 
 3303. TEMPTATION. Prayers for help in 
 
 The billows swell, the winds are high, 
 
 Clouds overcast my wintry sky ; 
 
 
TEMPTATION 
 
 638 
 
 TEST 
 
 Out of the depths to Thee I call,— 
 
 My fears are great, my strength is small. 
 
 O Lord, the pilot’s part perform, 
 
 And guard and guide me through the storm : 
 Defend me from each threatening ill; 
 
 Control the waves; say, ‘Peace ! be still.’ 
 
 Amidst the roaring of the sea, 
 
 My soul still hangs her hope on Thee ; 
 
 Thy constant love, Thy faithful care, 
 
 Is all that saves me from despair.— Cowper. 
 
 Plead, when the tempter’s art 
 To each fond hope of mine 
 Denies this faithless heart 
 Can e’er be Thine. 
 
 If slander whisper, too, 
 
 The sin I never knew, 
 
 Thou who wouldst urge the true, 
 
 Plead Thou my cause.— Waring ,. 
 
 33 ° 4 - TEMPTATION*: should be promptly re¬ 
 sisted. 
 
 Th’ encroaching ill you early should oppose : 
 Flatter d, ’tis worse, and by indulgence grows. 
 
 Dry dm, 
 
 33 °S- TEMPTATION : should be shunned. 
 
 Lie in the lap of sin, and not mean harm ? 
 
 It is hypocrisy against the devil : 
 
 They that mean virtuously, and yet do so, 
 
 The devil their virtue tempts, and they? tempt 
 Heaven. — Shakespeare. 
 
 So fatal ’twas to seek temptation out! 
 
 Most confidence has still most cause to doubt. 
 
 Diyden. 
 
 ’Tis wisdom to beware. 
 
 And better shun the bait than struggle in the snare. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 To shun th’ allurement is not hard 
 To minds resolved, forewarn’d, and well prepared j 
 But wondrous difficult, when once beset, 
 
 To struggle through the straits, and break th’ in¬ 
 volving net— Dryden . 
 
 3306. TEMPTATION: the secret of its power. 
 
 Men said to-day, of one who sinn’d, ‘ What may 
 ThL mean ? YY hat sudden madness overtook 
 His brain, that in a moment he forsook 
 The rectitude which until yesterday k 
 Had made his life a beacon by the way 
 To common men ? ’ I answer’d :. 
 
 ‘ We but look 
 
 On surfaces. Temptation never shook 
 One soul whose secret hidden forces lay 
 Finn centred in the right. The glacier bides 
 For ages white and still, and seems a part 
 Of the eternal Alps. But at its heart, 
 
 Each hour, some atom noiseless jars, and slides, 
 
 L ntil the avalanche falls with thundering weight. 
 God only knoweth the beginning’s date.’ 
 
 Helen Hunt. 
 
 3307. TEMPTATIONS. The most dangerous 
 
 Most dangerous 
 
 Is that temptation that doth goad us on 
 1 o sin in loving virtue.— Shakespeare. 
 
 The instruments of darkness tell us truths; 
 
 "VY in us with honest trifles to betray us 
 In deepest consequence.— Shakespeare. 
 
 YV hen devils will their blackest sins put on, 
 They do suggest at first with heavenly shows. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 3308. TEST. A general 
 
 For forms-of government let fools contest; 
 
 YVhate’er is best administer’d is best: 
 
 For modes of faith let graceless zealots fight; 
 
 His can’t be wrong whose life is in the right. 
 
 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. 
 
 3309. TEST. Objection to a 
 
 A man there came, whence none could tell. 
 Bearing a touchstone in his hand ; 
 
 And tested all things in the land 
 By its unerring spell. 
 
 Quick birth of transmutation smote 
 The fair to foul, the foul to fair; 
 
 Purple nor ermine did he spare. 
 
 Nor scorn the dusty coat. 
 
 Of heir-loom jewels, prized so much, 
 
 Were many changed to chips and clods. 
 
 And even statues of the gods 
 Crumbled beneath its touch. 
 
 Then angrily the people cried, 
 
 ‘ The loss outweighs the profit far ; 
 
 Our goods suffice us as they are; 
 
 YY T e will not have them tried.’ 
 
 And since they could not so avail 
 To check his unrelenting quest. 
 
thankfulness 
 
 639 
 
 THEATRE 
 
 They seized him, saying, ‘ Let him test 
 How real is our jail! ’ 
 
 But though they slew him with the sword, 
 
 1x1 a fire his touchstone burn d, 
 
 Its doings could not be o’ertum’d. 
 
 Its undoings restored. 
 
 And when, to stop all future haim, 
 
 They strew’d its ashes on the Dreeze, 
 
 They little guess’d each grain of these 
 Convey’d the perfect charm.— Alhngham. 
 
 3310. THANKFULNESS. Causes for 
 
 % 
 
 For all that God in mercy sends ; 
 
 For health and children, home and friends, 
 
 For comfort in the time of need. 
 
 For every kindly word and deed, 
 
 For happy thoughts and holy talk, 
 
 For guidance in our daily walk, \ 
 
 For everything give thanks ! 
 
 For beauty in this world of ours, 
 
 For verdant grass and lovely flowers, 
 
 For song of birds, for hum of bees, 
 
 For the refreshing summer breeze, 
 
 For hill and plain, for streams and wood, 
 
 For the great ocean’s mighty flood, 
 
 In everything give thanks ! 
 
 For the sweet sleep which comes with night, 
 For the returning morning’s light, 
 
 For the bright sun that shines on high, 
 
 For the stars glittering in the sky, 
 
 For these and everything we see, 
 
 O Lord 1 our hearts we lift to Thee, 
 
 For everything give thanks ! 
 
 Miss E. I. Tupper. 
 
 3311. THANKFULNESS. Causes for 
 
 We give Thee thanks, O Lord, our God, 
 
 For all things beautiful that be,— 
 
 Mom’s lovely skies, eve’s sunset clouds, 
 
 The grass-green earth, the dark blue sea; 
 The roses sweet that come with June ; 
 
 The rainbow bom of summer rains ; 
 
 The pure white flakes of winter snows ; 
 
 The leaves that bum as autumn wanes. 
 
 For every great and glorious gift 
 
 Our thanks to Thee, O Lord, belong; 
 
 Thy power guides the artist’s hand, 
 
 Thy music fills the poet’s song. 
 
 Thy smile is seen in friendship s smile ; 
 
 The tones of love are all Thine own ; 
 
 And in the laugh of little ones 
 
 Is heard an echo from Thy throne. 
 
 \Ve give Thee thanks, O Lord, our God, 
 
 For blessings sent us in disguise ; 
 
 For sorrows meant to chasten us, 
 
 And lift to Thee our tearful eyes ; 
 
 For those whom death hath call’d— their gain. 
 So great ’twere sin to mourn our loss, 
 
 And most of all for Thy dear Son, 
 
 Who died for us upon the cross.— M. E. 
 
 3312. THANKFULNESS. Causes for 
 
 My God, I thank Thee, who hast made 
 The earth so bright; 
 
 So full of splendour and of joy. 
 
 Beauty and light; 
 
 So many glorious things are here 
 Noble and right. 
 
 I thank Thee, too, that Thou hast made 
 Joy to abound; 
 
 So many gentle thoughts and deeds 
 Circling us round, 
 
 That in the darkest spot of earth 
 Some love is found. 
 
 I thank Thee more that all our joy 
 Is touch’d with pain ; 
 
 That shadows fall on brightest hours; 
 
 That thorns remain; 
 
 So that earth’s bliss may be our guide. 
 
 And not our chain. 
 
 For Thou who knowest, Lord, how soon 
 Our weak heart clings, 
 
 Hast given us joys, tender and true. 
 
 Yet all with wings, 
 
 So that we see gleaming on high 
 Diviner things ! 
 
 I thank Thee, Lord, that Thou hast kept 
 The best in store : 
 
 We have enough, yet not too much 
 To long for more ; 
 
 A yearning for a deeper peace. 
 
 Not known before. 
 
 I thank Thee, Lord, that here our souls, 
 Though amply blest, 
 
 Can never find, although they seek, 
 
 A perfect rest,— 
 
 Nor ever shall, until they lean 
 
 On Jesus’ breast. 
 
 Adelaide Anne Procter. 
 
 3313. THEATRE. Corruption of the 
 
 Lo, where the Stage, the poor, degraded Stage, 
 
 Holds its warp’d mirror to a gaping age ; 
 
THEATRE 
 
 640 
 
 THOUGHT 
 
 There, where to raise the drama’s moral tone, 
 
 Fool Harlequin usurps Apollo’s throne ; 
 
 There, where grown children gather round, to praise 
 The new-vamp’d legends of their nursery days, 
 Where one loose scene shall turn more souls to 
 shame, 
 
 Than ten of Channing’s lectures can reclaim • 
 
 There, where in idiot rapture we adore 
 The herded vagabonds of eveiy shore ; 
 
 Women unsex’d, who, lost to woman’s pride, 
 
 The drunkard’s stagger ape, the bully’s stride ; 
 
 Pert lisping girls, who, still in childhood’s fetters. 
 Babble of love, yet barely know their letters ; 
 Neat-jointed mummers, mocking nature’s shape, 
 
 To prove how nearly man can match an ape ; 
 Vaulters, who, rightly served at home, perchance 
 Had dangled from the rope on which they dance ; 
 Dwarfs, mimics, jugglers, all that yield content. 
 Where sin holds carnival and wit keeps lent; 
 
 Where, shoals on shoals, the modest million rush. 
 
 One sex to laugh, and one to try to blush, 
 
 When mincing Ravenot sports tight pantalettes. 
 
 And turns fops’ heads while turning pirouettes ; 
 
 There, at each ribald sally, where we hear 
 The knowing giggle and the scurrile jeer. 
 
 While from the intellectual gallery first 
 Rolls the base plaudit, loudest at the worst. 
 
 Sprague. 
 
 3314. THEATRE. Evil of the 
 
 The Theatre was from the very first 
 The favourite haunt of sin; though honest men, 
 Some very honest, wise, and worthy men, 
 
 Maintain d it might be turn’d to good account: 
 
 And so perhaps it might, but never was. 
 
 From first to last it was an evil place; 
 
 And now such things were acted there, as made 
 The demons blush ; and from the neighbourhood 
 Angels and holy men trembling retired.— Pollok. 
 
 3315. THIRST. The soul’s 
 
 I HAD drunk with lips unsated 
 
 Where the founts of pleasure burst; 
 
 I had hewn out broken cisterns, 
 
 And they mock’d my spirit’s thirst. 
 
 And I said, ‘ Life is a desert, 
 
 Hot, and measureless, and dry ; 
 
 And God will not give me water. 
 
 Though I pray, and faint, and die ! ’ 
 
 Then I said,—my heart was sinful, 
 
 Very sinful was my speech,— 
 
 All the wells of God’s salvation 
 Are too deep for me to reach.’ 
 
 And He answer’d, ‘ Rise and labour; 
 
 Doubt and idleness is death. 
 
 Shape thee out a goodly vessel 
 With the strong hands of thy faith.’ 
 
 So I wrought, and shaped the vessel, 
 
 Then knelt lowly, humbly there, 
 
 And I drew up living water 
 
 With the golden chain of prayer. 
 
 Phcebe Carey. 
 
 I 33 j 6. THOUGHT ; begins in feeling. 
 
 All thought begins in feeling,—wide 
 In the great mass its base is hid, 
 
 And, narrowing up to thought, stands glorified, 
 A moveless pyramid.— Lozvell. 
 
 33 1 7- THOUGHT. Duration of 
 
 I TlS but in that which doth create , 
 
 Duration can be sought; 
 
 A worm can waste the canvas ; -fate 
 Ne’er swept from time a thought. 
 
 Lives Phidias in his work alone ? 
 
 His Jove returns to air: 
 
 But wake one god-like shape from stone. 
 
 And Phidian thought is there ! 
 
 Blot out the Iliad from the earth, 
 
 Still Homer’s thought would fire 
 Each deed that boasts sublimer worth, 
 
 And each diviner lyre. 
 
 Like light connecting star to star, 
 
 Doth thought transmitted run : 
 
 Rays that to earth the nearest are, 
 
 Have longest left the sun.— Bulwer Lytton . 
 
 3318. THOUGHT: expressed. 
 
 Thought in the mind may come forth gold or dross j 
 When coin’d in words, we know its real worth. 
 
 Young. 
 
 33 r 9- THOUGHT: feared. 
 
 And cards are dealt, and chessboards brought. 
 
 To ease the pain of coward thought.— Piior. 
 
 Spoke there then a friend and brother : 
 
 ‘ Rise, and roll the stone away j 
 There are founts of life upspringing 
 In thy pathway every day.’ 
 
 33 2 °- THOUGHT : is more than feeling. 
 
 Thought, to the man that never thinks, may seem 
 As natural as when asleep to dream; 
 
THOUGHT 
 
 641 
 
 THOUGHTS 
 
 5ut reveries (for human minds will act), 
 
 ,pecious in show, impossible in fact, 
 
 -hose flimsy webs that break as soon as wrought, 
 Utain not to the dignity of thought; 
 
 4or yet the swarms that occupy the brain 
 
 Where dreams of dress, intrigue, and pleasure reign. 
 
 Cozuper. 
 
 3321. THOUGHT. Painfulness of 
 
 Various discussions tear our heated biain . 
 
 Opinions often turn, still doubts remain ; 
 
 And who indulges thought, increases pain. 
 
 Prior. 
 
 3322. THOUGHT. Pleasure of 
 
 Companion none is like 
 Unto the mind alone, 
 
 For many have been harm’d by speech 
 Through thinking, few, or none. 
 
 Fear oftentimes restraineth words, 
 
 But makes not thoughts to cease 
 And he speaks best that hath the skill 
 When for to hold his peace. 
 
 Our wealth leaves us at death, 
 
 Our kinsmen at the grave, 
 
 But virtues of the mind unto 
 The heavens with us we have ; 
 
 Wherefore, for virtue’s sake, 
 
 I can be well content 
 The sweetest time of all my life 
 
 To deem in thinking spent.— Lord Vaux. 
 
 3325. THOUGHT : the gift of God. 
 
 Lord, hear my discontent: All blank I stand, 
 
 A mirror polish’d by Thy hand ; 
 
 Thy sun’s beams flash and flame from me— 
 
 I cannot help it ; here I stand, there he , 
 
 To one of them I cannot say— 
 
 Go, and on yonder wa’ter play. 
 
 Nor one poor ragged daisy can I fashion 
 I do not make the words of this my limping passion. 
 If I should say : Now I will think a thought, 
 
 Lo ! I must wait, unknowing, 
 
 What thought in me is growing, 
 
 Until the thing to birth is brought; 
 
 Nor know I then what 'next will come 
 From out the gulf of silence dumb. 
 
 I am the door the thing did find 
 To pass into the general mind : 
 
 I cannot say I think 
 
 I only stand upon the thought-well’s brink ; 
 
 From darkness to the sun the water bubbles up — 
 
 I lift it in my cup. 
 
 Thou only thinkest—I am thought; 
 
 Me and my thought Thou thinkest. Nought 
 Am I but as a fountain spout 
 From which Thy water welleth out. 
 
 Thou art the only One, the All in all. 
 
 _Yet when my soul on dhee doth call 
 
 And Thou dost answer out of everywhere, 
 
 I in Thy allness have my perfect share.— Macdonald. 
 
 3323. THOUGHT. Privacy of 
 
 Glory to God ! though given to King and Pope, 
 To seal our eyes, our bosoms none can ope ; 
 
 There still shall freedom one asylum find : 
 
 Go to, make creeds and laws to scourge mankind ; 
 Enthral them, hand and foot, and sight and speech, 
 Thought only, thought is barr’d beyond your reacn. 
 What racks can bind? or what research unveil ? 
 The soul, with flesh encompass’d as a mail 
 Of proof, impervious, save to God alone, 
 
 ^Defies her labours, and resumes her own. 
 
 'Whether she break communion with the tongue 
 And bid it mock you with the lie you wrung, 
 
 Or scorning such degenerate use of breath, 
 
 Escape with truth, and leave you dust and death. 
 
 Moile. 
 
 3324. THOUGHT. Profitableness of 
 
 O reader, had you in your mind, 
 
 Such stores as silent thought can bring, 
 
 O gentle reader, you would find 
 
 A tale in everything.— Wordsworth. 
 
 3326. THOUGHTFULNESS : the duty of the 
 aged. 
 
 Walk thoughtful on the silent, solemn shore 
 Of that vast ocean it must sail so soon ; 
 
 And put good works on board ; and wait the wind 
 That shortly blows us into worlds unknown. 
 
 Young. 
 
 3327. THOUGHTS. 
 
 Rise, O my soul, with thy desires to Heaven, 
 
 And with divinest contemplation use 
 Thy time, where time’s eternity is given, 
 
 And let vain thoughts no more thy thoughts abuse. 
 But sown in darkness let them lie ; 
 
 So live the better, let the worst thoughts die ! 
 
 Raleigh. 
 
 My words fly up, my thoughts remain below ; 
 
 Words without thoughts never to Heaven go. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Think that is just; ’tis not enough to do, 
 
 Unless thy very thoughts are upright too. 
 
 Randolph. 
 
 4 * 
 
thrift 
 
 642 
 
 TIME 
 
 His pure thoughts were borne 
 Like fumes of sacred incense o’er the clouds, 
 
 And wafted thence on angels’ wings, through ways 
 Of light to the bright Source of all.— Congreve. 
 
 Search for some thoughts, thy own suggesting mind, 
 And others, dictated by heavenly power, 
 
 Shall rise spontaneous.— Pope. 
 
 Hast thou no friend to set thy mind abroach 5 
 
 Good sense will stagnate. Thoughts, shut up, want 
 air, 
 
 And spoil, like bales unopen’d to the sun.— Young. 
 
 Lull’d in the countless chambers of the brain, 
 
 Our thoughts are link’d by many a hidden chain 
 Awake but one, and lo ! what myriads rise ! 
 
 Each stamps its image as the other flies ! 
 
 Each, as the various avenues of sense, 
 
 Delight or sorrow to the soul dispense, 
 
 Frightens or fades ; yet all, with magic art, 
 
 Control the latent fibres of the heart.— Rogers. 
 
 Fine thoughts are wealth, for the right use of which 
 ‘ len are and ought to be accountable. 
 
 Grant this, we pray Thee, that all they who read 
 Or utter noble thoughts may make them theirs, 
 
 And thank God for them, to the betterment 
 Of their succeeding life.— Bailey. 
 
 Who can mistake great thoughts ? 
 
 They seize upon the mind ; arrest, and search, 
 
 And shake it; bow the tall soul as by wind ; 
 
 Rush over it like rivers over reeds, 
 
 Which quaver in the current; turn us cold, 
 
 And pale and voiceless ; leaving in the brain 
 A rocking and a ringing,—glorious, 
 
 But momentary ; madness might it last, 
 
 And close the soul with Heaven as with a seal. 
 
 Bailey. 
 
 Thoughts flit and flutter through the mind, 
 
 As o’er the waves the shifting wind ; 
 
 Trackless and traceless is their flight, 
 
 As falling stars of yesternight, 
 
 Or the old tide-marks on the shore, 
 
 Which other tides have rippled o’er .—Bow ring. 
 
 When sometimes lofty towers I see down-razed, 
 And brass eternal slave to mortal rage ; 
 
 W hen I have seen the hungry ocean gain 
 Advantage on the kingdom of the shore, 
 
 And the firm soil win of the wat’ry main, ’ 
 Increasing store with loss, and loss with store ; 
 W hen I have seen such interchange of state, 
 
 Or state itself, confounded to decay ; 
 
 Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate— 
 
 That Time will come and take my love away. 
 This thought is as a death, which cannot choose 
 But weep to have that which it fears to lose. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Time lays his hand 
 On pyramids of brass, and ruins quite 
 W hat all the fond artificers did think 
 Immortal workmanship ; he sends his worms 
 To^books, to old records, and they devour 
 Th inscriptions. He loves ingratitude, 
 
 For he destroys the memory of man. 
 
 Davenant. 
 
 O Time ! the fatal wreck of mortal things, 
 
 That draws oblivion’s curtain over kings: 
 
 Their sumptuous monuments, men know them not, 
 Their names without a record, are forgot, 
 
 Their parts, their ports, their pomp’s all laid i’ th 
 dust, 
 
 Lor wit, nor gold, nor buildings, ’scape Time’s rust 
 But he whose name is ’graved in the white stone, 
 Shall last and shine when all of these are gone. 
 
 Mrs Anne Brad street. 
 
 3328. THRIFT. 
 
 Be thrifty, but not covetous ; therefore give 
 Thy need, thine honour, and thy friend, his due ; 
 Never was scraper brave man. Get to live ; 
 
 Then live, and use it; else it is not true 
 That thou hast gotten : surely, use alone 
 Makes money not a contemptible stone.— Herbert. 
 
 3329. TIME. Conquests of 
 
 When I have seen by Time’s fell hand defaced 
 riie lich-proud cost of outworn buried age j 
 
 What does not fade? the tower, that long had st< 
 The crush of thunder and the warring winds, 
 Shook by the slow, but sure destroyer, Time, 
 Now hangs in doubtful ruins o’er its base, 
 
 And flinty pyramids, and walls of brass. 
 
 Descend : the Babylonian spires are sunk ; 
 Achaia, Rome, and Egypt moulder down. 
 
 Time shakes the stable tyranny of thrones, 
 
 And tottering empires crush by their own weight. 
 
 A rmstrong. 
 
 I wept that all must die : 
 
 \ et Love, I cried, ‘ doth live, and conqu 
 death ’— 
 
 And Time pass’d by, 
 
 And breathed on Love, and kill’d it with h 
 breath, 
 
 Ere death was nigh. 
 
 More bitter far than all 
 
 it was to know that Love could change and die ! 
 Hush ! for the ages call, 
 
 ‘ The love of God lives through eternity, 
 
 And conquers all! ’— Adelaide A. Procter. 
 
TIME 
 
 643 
 
 TIME 
 
 333 °- TIME. Consolation of 
 
 D Time, who know’st a lenient hand to lay 
 Softest on sorrow’s wounds, and slowly thence 
 (Lulling to sad repose the weary sense) 
 
 The faint pang stealest unperceived away ; 
 
 Dn thee I rest my only hopes at last, 
 
 And think, when thou hast dried the bitter tear, 
 That flows in vain o’er all my hope holds dear, 
 
 [ may look back on many a sorrow past, 
 
 And greet life’s peaceful evening with a smile : 
 
 As some lone bird, at day’s departing hour, 
 
 Sings in the sunshine of the transient shower, 
 Forgetful though its wings be wet the while. 
 
 But, ah ! what ills must that poor heart endure 
 Who hopes from thee, and thee alone, a cure ? 
 
 Bowles. 
 
 Yes, gentle Time, thy gradual, healing hand 
 Hath stolen from sorrow’s grasp the envenom’d 
 dart; 
 
 Submitting to thy skill, my passive heart 
 Feels that no grief can thy soft power withstand ; 
 And though my aching breast still heaves the sigh, 
 Though oft the tear swells silent in mine eye, 
 
 Yet the keen pang, the agony is gone ; 
 
 Sorrow and I shall part; and these faint throes 
 Are but the remnant of severer woes.— Mrs Tighe. 
 
 3331. TIME. Effects of 
 
 Years, following years, steal something every day ; 
 At last they steal us from ourselves away.— Horace. 
 
 The lopped tree in time may grow again, 
 
 Most naked plants renew both fruit and flower; 
 The sorriest wight may find release of pain', 
 
 The driest soil suck in some moistening shower : 
 Time goes by turns, and chances change by course, 
 From foul to fair, from better hap to worse. 
 
 Not always fall of leaf, nor ever spring, 
 
 No endless night, yet not eternal day ; 
 
 The saddest birds a season find to sing, 
 
 The roughest storm a calm may soon allay : 
 
 Thus with succeeding turns God tempereth all, 
 
 That man may hope to rise, yet fear to fall. 
 
 Southwell. 
 
 The soul’s dark cottage, batter’d and decay’d, 
 
 Lets in new light through chinks that time has made. 
 
 Waller. 
 
 Time, which all things else removes, 
 
 Still heightens virtue and improves. — Gay. 
 
 Now Time has fled—the world is strange, 
 Something there is of pain and change ; 
 
 My books lie closed upon my shelf : 
 
 I miss the old heart in myself. 
 
 I miss the sunbeams in my room— 
 
 It was not always wrapp’d in gloom : 
 
 I miss my dreams—they fade so fast, 
 
 Or flit into some trivial past. 
 
 Adelaide A. Procter. 
 
 Wait thou for Time: the slow-unfolding flower 
 Chides man’s impatient haste with long delay; 
 The harvest ripening in the autumnal sun, 
 
 The golden fruit of Suffering’s weighty power, 
 Within the soul like soft bells’ silvery chime 
 Repeat the tones : if fame may not be won, 
 
 Or if the heart where thou shouldst find a shrine 
 Breathe forth no blessing on thy lonely way,— 
 
 Wait thou for Time : it hath a sorcerer’s power 
 To dim life’s mockeries that gayly shine, 
 
 To lift the veil of seeming from the real, 
 
 Bring to thy soul a rich or fearful dower, 
 
 Write golden tracery on the sands of life, 
 
 And raise the drooping heart from scenes ideal 
 To a high purpose in the world of strife : 
 
 Wait thou for Time !— Lucy Hooper. 
 
 3332. TIME : ever changing. 
 
 E’en times are in perpetual flux, and ran 
 Like rivers from their fountains, rolling on ; 
 
 For time, no more than streams, is at a stay; 
 
 The flying hour is ever on her way ; 
 
 And as the fountains still supply their store, 
 
 The wave behind impels the wave before, 
 
 Thus in successive course the minutes run, 
 
 And urge their predecessor minutes on, 
 
 Still moving ever new ; for former things 
 Are laid aside, like abdicated kings ; 
 
 And every moment alters what is done, 
 
 And innovates some act till then unknown. 
 
 Ovid. 
 
 3333. TIME. Flight of 
 
 Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, 
 So do our minutes hastemto their end; 
 
 Each changing place with that which goes before, 
 
 In sequent toil all forwards do contend. 
 
 Nativity once in the main of light, 
 
 Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crown’d, 
 Crooked eclipses ’gainst his glory fight, 
 
 And Time that gave, doth now his gift confound. 
 Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth, 
 
 And delves the parallels in beauty’s brow : 
 
 Feeds on the rarities of nature’s truth, 
 
 And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Our time consumes like smoke, and posts away ; 
 
 . Nor can we treasure up a month or day : 
 
TIME 
 
 644 
 
 TIME 
 
 The sand within the transitory glass 
 Doth haste, and so our silent minutes pass. . 
 
 Watkyns. 
 
 Time, the prime minister of death, 
 
 There’s nought can bribe his honest will ; 
 He stops the richest tyrant’s breath, . 
 
 And lays his mischief still.— Marvell . 
 
 Shun delays, they breed remorse ; 
 
 Take thy time while time is lent thee ; 
 Creeping snails have weakest force, 
 
 Fly their fault, lest thou repent thee. 
 
 Good is best when soonest wrought; 
 
 Linger’d labours come to nought. 
 
 Time wears all his locks before ; 
 
 Take thy hold upon his forehead ; 
 
 When he flies, he turns no more. 
 
 And behind his scalp is naked. 
 
 Works adjourn’d have many stays ; 
 
 Long demurs breed new delays.— Southwell. 
 
 3334. TIME. Flight of 
 
 The day in hand, 
 
 Like a bird struggling to get loose, is going, 
 Scarce now possess’d—so suddenly ’tis gone. 
 
 Young. 
 
 Nought treads so silent as the foot of Time ; 
 Hence we mistake our autumn for our prime. 
 
 Young. 
 
 Time, in advance, behind him hides his wings, 
 And seems to creep decrepit with his age ; 
 Behold him when past by : what then is seen, 
 But his broad pinions swifter than the winds ? 
 And all mankind in contradiction strong, 
 
 Rueful, aghast, cry out on his career.— Young. 
 
 Time hurries on, 
 
 With a resistless, unremitting stream, 
 
 Yet treads more soft than e’er did midnight thief, 
 That slides his hand under the miser’s pillow, 
 And carries off his prize.— Blair. 
 
 Time, as he passes us, has a dove’s wing, 
 Unsoil’d and swift, and of a silken sound. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 The lapse of time and rivers is the same ; 
 
 Both speed their journey with a restless stream ; 
 The silent pace with which they steal away. 
 
 No wealth can bribe, no prayers persuade to stay ; 
 Alike irrevocable both when past, 
 
 And a wide ocean swallows both at last. 
 
 Though each resemble each in every part, 
 
 A difference strikes at length the musing heart : 
 
 Streams never flow in vain ; where streams aboun 
 How laughs the land, with various plenty crown’d 
 But time, that should enrich the nobler mind. 
 Neglected, leaves a dreary waste behind. — Cowpei 
 
 3335. TIME. Flight of 
 
 Still on it creeps 
 
 Each little moment at another’s heels, 
 
 Till hours, days, years, and ages are made up 
 Of such small parts as these, and men look back 
 Worn and bewilder’d, wondering how it is. 
 
 Thou travellest like a ship in the wide ocean, 
 Which hath no bounding shore to mark its progress 
 
 Joanna Baillie. 
 
 Time speeds away—away—away : 
 
 Another hour—another day— 
 
 Another month—another year— 
 
 Drop from us like the leaflets sear ; 
 
 Drop like the life-blood from our hearts ; 
 
 The rose-bloom from the cheek departs, 
 
 The tresses from the temples fall, 
 
 The eye grows dim and strange to all. 
 
 Time speeds away—away—away, 
 
 Like torrent in a stormy day ; 
 
 He undermines the stately tower, 
 
 Uproots the tree, and snaps the flower ; 
 
 And sweeps from our distracted breast 
 The friends that loved—-the friends that blest; 
 And leaves us weeping on the shore, 
 
 To which they can return no more. 
 
 Time speeds away—away—away : 
 No eagle through the skies of day, 
 No wind along the hills can flee 
 
 So swiftly or so smooth as he. 
 
 Like fiery steed—from stage to stage, 
 He bears us on from youth to age; 
 Then plunges in the fearful sea 
 Of fathomless eternity.— Knox. 
 
 3336. TIME. Flight of 
 
 ‘Where is the world,’ cries Young, ‘at eighty 
 Where 
 
 The world in which a man was bom ? ’ Alas ! j 
 Where is the world of eight years past? ’Twrj 
 there — 
 
 I look for it—’tis gone, a globe of glass ! 
 
 Crack’d, shiver’d, vanish’d, scarcely gazed on ere J 
 A silent change dissolves the glittering mass. 
 Statesmen, chiefs, orators, queens, patriots, kings, 
 And dandies, all are gone on the wind’s wings. 
 
 Byron. ■ 
 
 Time rolls his ceaseless course. The race of yore, 
 Who danced our infancy upon their knee, 
 
TIME 
 
 TIME 
 
 645 
 
 And told our marvelling boyhood legend’s store, 
 
 Of their strange ventures happ’d by land or sea, 
 How are they blotted from the things that be! 
 How few, all weak and wither’d of their force, 
 
 Wait on the verge of dark eternity, 
 
 Like stranded wrecks, the tide returning hoarse, 
 
 To sweep them from our sight.— Scott. 
 
 On ! on ! our moments hurry by 
 Like shadows of a passing cloud, 
 
 Till general darkness wraps the sky, 
 
 And man sleeps senseless in his shroud. 
 
 He sports, he trifles time away, 
 
 Till time is his to waste no more : 
 
 Heedless he hears the surges play ; 
 
 And then is dash’d upon the shore. 
 
 He has no thought of coming days, 
 
 Though they alone deserve his thought, 
 
 And so the heedless wanderer strays, 
 
 And treasures nought and gathers nought. 
 Though Wisdom speak—his ear is dull ; 
 
 Though Virtue smile—he sees her not ; 
 
 His cup of vanity is full; 
 
 And all besides forgone—forgot. 
 
 Bowring. 
 
 3337. TIME. Flight of 
 
 Oh ! never chide the wing of time, 
 
 Or say ’tis tardy in its flight; 
 
 You’ll find the days speed quick enough, 
 
 If you but husband them aright.— Miss Cook. 
 
 Time 
 
 Knows not the weight of sleep or weariness, 
 
 And night’s deep darkness has no chain to bind 
 His rushing pinion.— Prentice. 
 
 The hours are viewless angels, 
 
 That still go gliding by, 
 
 And bear each minute’s record up 
 To Him who sits on high. — Cranch. 
 
 1 Linger,’ I cried, ‘ O radiant Time ! thy power 
 Has nothing more to give; life is complete : 
 
 Let but the perfect Present, hour by hour, 
 
 Itself remember and itself repeat. 
 
 ‘And love,—the future can but mar its splendour, 
 Change can but dim the glory of its youth; 
 
 Time has no star more faithful or more tender 
 To crown its constancy or light its truth.’ 
 
 But Time pass’d on, in spite of prayer or pleading, 
 Through storm and peril; but that life might gain 
 A Peace through strife all other peace exceeding, 
 Fresh joy from sorrow, and new hope from pain. 
 
 Adelaide A. Procter. 
 
 3338. TIME : how it is to be reckoned. 
 
 Desire not to live long, but to live well; 
 
 How long we live, not years, but actions, tell. 
 
 Watkyns. 
 
 The vicious count their years ; virtuous, their acts. 
 
 Johnson. 
 
 3339. TIME : its influence limited. 
 
 Roll round, strange years ; swift seasons, come and 
 go ; 
 
 Ye leave upon us but an outward sign ; 
 
 Ye cannot touch the inward and divine, 
 
 While God alone does know ; 
 
 There seal’d till summers, winters all shall cease 
 In His deep peace. 
 
 Therefore, uprouse, ye winds, and howl your will; 
 Beat, beat, ye sobbing rains, on pane and door ; 
 Enter, slow-footed age, and thou, obscure, 
 
 Grand Angel—not of ill: 
 
 Healer of every wound, whene’er thou come, 
 
 Glad, we’ll go home.— Mrs Craik. 
 
 3340. TIME. King 
 
 I WEAR not the purple of earth-born kings, 
 
 Nor the stately ermine of lordly things ; 
 
 But monarch and courtier, though great they may be, 
 Must fall from their glory and bend to me. 
 
 My sceptre is gemless ; yet who can say 
 They will not come under its mighty sway ? 
 
 Ye may know who I am—there’s the passing chime, 
 And the dial to herald me, Old King Time ! 
 
 Softly I creep, like a thief in the night, 
 
 After cheeks all blooming and eyes all light; 
 
 My steps are seen on the patriarch’s brow, 
 
 In the deep-worn furrows and locks of snow. 
 
 Who laughs at my power ? the young and the gay ; 
 But they dream not how closely I track their way. 
 Wait till their first bright sands have run. 
 
 And they will not smile at what Time hath done. 
 
 I eat through treasures with moth and rust; 
 
 I lay the gorgeous palace in dust; 
 
 I make the shell-proof tower my own, 
 
 And break the battlement, stone from stone. 
 
 Work on at your cities and temples, proud man, 
 Build high as ye may, and strong as ye can ; 
 
 But the marble shall crumble, the pillar shall fall, 
 And Time, Old Time, will be king after all. 
 
 Eliza Cook. 
 
 3341. TIME. Lengthening 
 
 Sorrow, suspense, desire, and fear— 
 
 These four can make a day appear 
 Long as the shadow of a spear.— Oriental. 
 
TIME 
 
 646 
 
 TIME 
 
 3342. TIME : mis-spent. 
 
 Who, looking backward from his manhood’s prime, 
 Sees not the spectre of his misspent time ? 
 
 Whittier. 
 
 3343. TIME. Note of 
 
 The bell strikes one. We take no note of time 
 But from its loss. To give it then a tongue 
 Is wise in man. As if an angel spoke, 
 
 I feel the solemn sound. If heard aright, 
 
 It is the knell of my departed hours : 
 
 Where are they? With the years beyond the flood. 
 It is the signal that demands despatch : 
 
 How much is to be done ! my hopes and fears 
 Start up alarm’d, and o’er life’s narrow verge 
 Look down—on what ? a fathomless abyss ; 
 
 A dread eternity ! how surely mine ! 
 
 And can eternity belong to me, 
 
 Poor pensioner on the bounties of an hour ?— Young. 
 
 3344. TIME. Portrait of 
 
 Ye paint me old ! and why ? —ye fools, short-sighted ! 
 
 And doth my speed eld’s frozen blood betray ? 
 Methinks the storm-wind is not swifter flighted ; 
 
 The rapid lightning scarce o’ertakes my way. 
 
 Ye think your hurrying thoughts perchance outrun 
 me— 
 
 Go, race with sunbeams—when they have outdone 
 me ! 
 
 Talk of my age ! I fly more swift than they. 
 
 Ye call me grey ! now, try me. I’ll confound ye 
 With youth’s most vigorous arm. One glance— 
 but one— 
 
 O’er the huge touch of vanish’d time around ye, 
 Mountains of ruins piled by me alone ; 
 
 I did it—I smote yesterday—to-morrow 
 I wait to smite—your cities—you : go, borrow 
 Safety and strength—they shall avail you none. 
 
 Take from my front the white locks folly fancies; 
 
 My hair is golden, and my forehead curl’d ; 
 
 My youth but sports with years—fire are my glances— 
 My brow resists the wrinkling of the world. 
 
 Not for the scythe alone my hand was shapen, 
 
 ’Twas made to crush—give me the club—that weapon 
 Oft has my power in awful moments hurl’d. 
 
 But give me, too, the hour-glass—ever raining 
 Exhaustless streams untired—for I am he 
 Who pours forth gems and gold, and fruits undrain¬ 
 ing, 
 
 And treasures ever new—or can it be 
 For desolation only? Do not new drops 
 Of dew, in summer fervours, follow dew-drops ? 
 Fresh flowers replace each flower that’s crush’d by 
 me. — Withuis. 
 
 3345. TIME. Preciousness of 
 
 Time flows from instants, and of these each one 
 Should be esteem’d as if it were alone : 
 
 The shortest space, which we so highly prize 
 When it is coming, and before our eyes, 
 
 Let it but slide into th’ eternal main, 
 
 No realms, no worlds, can purchase it again : 
 Remembrance only makes the footsteps last, 
 When winged time, which fix’d the prints, is past 
 
 Beaumont 
 
 The greatest schemes that human wit can forge, 
 Or bold ambition dares to put in practice, 
 Depend upon our husbanding a moment.— Rome. 
 
 The present point of time is all thou hast: 
 
 The future doubtful, and the former past. 
 
 Harte. 
 
 Youth is not rich in time; it may be poor : 
 
 Part with it as with money, sparing ; pay 
 No moment but in purchase of its worth ; 
 
 And what it’s worth, ask death-beds : they ca: 
 tell !— Young. 
 
 ‘ Why sit’st thou by that ruin’d hall. 
 
 Thou aged carle so stern and grey ? 
 
 Dost thou its former pride recall, 
 
 Or ponder how it pass’d away?’ 
 
 ‘ Know’st thou not me ? ’ the deep voice cried, 
 
 ‘ So long enjoy’d, so oft misused— 
 Alternate, in thy fickle pride. 
 
 Desired, neglected, and accused ? 
 
 Before my breath, like smoking flax, 
 
 Man and his marvels pass away, 
 
 And changing empires wane and wax, 
 
 Are founded, flourish, and decay. 
 
 Redeem mine hours—the space is brief 
 While in my glass the sand-grains shiver, 
 And measureless thy joy or grief, 
 
 When time and thou shalt part for ever ! ’ 
 
 Scott. 
 
 Arrest the present moments ; 
 
 For be assured they are all arrant tell-tales ; 
 
 And though their flight be silent, and their path 
 
 trackless 
 
 As the wing’d couriers of the air, 
 
 They post to heaven, and there record their folly— 
 Because, though station’d on the important watch, 
 Thou, like a sleeping, faithless sentinel, 
 
 Didst let them pass unnoticed, unimproved. 
 
 And know, for that thou slumber’st on the guard. 
 Thou shalt be made to answer at the bar 
 For every fugitive : and when thou thus 
 
TIME 
 
 647 
 
 TIME 
 
 Shalt stand impleaded at the high tribunal 
 Of hood-wink’d justice, who shall tell thy audit? 
 Then stay the present instant, dear Horatio, 
 
 Imprint the marks of wisdom on its wings; 
 
 ’Tis of more worth than kingdoms ! far more 
 precious 
 
 Than all the crimson treasures of life’s fountain. 
 
 Oh ! let it not elude thy grasp, but, like 
 The good old patriarch upon record, 
 
 Hold the fleet angel fast until he bless thee. 
 
 Cotton. 
 
 3346. TIME. Revelations of 
 
 Time, as he courses onwards, still unrolls 
 The volume of concealment. In the future, 
 
 As in the optician’s glassy cylinder, 
 
 The undistinguishable blots and colours 
 Of the dim past collect and shape themselves, 
 Upstarting in their own completed image 
 To scare, or to reward.— Coleridge. 
 
 3347. TIME. Riddle on 
 
 Ever eating, never cloying, 
 
 All-devouring, all-destroying, 
 
 Never finding full repast, 
 
 Till I eat the world at last.— Swift. 
 
 3348. TIME : the great arbitrator. 
 
 The end crowns all; 
 
 And that old common arbitrator, Time, 
 
 Will one day end it.— Shakespeare. 
 
 3349. TIME. Thieves of 
 
 Shun such as lounge through afternoons and eves, 
 And on thy dial write, ‘ Beware of thieves ! ’ 
 
 Felon of minutes, never taught to feel 
 
 The worth of treasures which thy fingers steal, 
 
 Pick my left pocket of its silver dime, 
 
 But spare the right—it holds my golden time ! 
 
 Holmes. 
 
 3350. TIME. Triumph over 
 
 Fly, envious Time, till thou run out thy race ; 
 
 Call on the lazy, leaden-stepping hours, 
 
 Whose speed is but the heavy plummet’s pace ; 
 
 And glut thyself with what thy womb devours, 
 Which is no more than is false and vain, 
 
 And merely mortal dross ; 
 
 So little is our loss, 
 
 So little is thy gain ! 
 
 For when as each thing bad thou hast entomb d, 
 And last of all thy greedy self consumed, 
 
 Then long Eternity shall greet our bliss 
 With an individual kiss ; 
 
 And Joy shall overtake us as a flood, 
 
 When everything that is sincerely good 
 And perfectly Divine, 
 
 With Truth, and Peace, and Love, shall ever shine 
 
 About the supreme throne 
 
 Of Him, to Whose happy-making sight alone 
 
 When once our heavenly-guided souls shall climb, 
 Then, all this earthly grossness quit, 
 
 Attired with stars, we shall for ever sit, 
 
 Triumphing over Death, and Chance, and thee, 
 O Time !— Milton. 
 
 1 
 
 3351. TIME. Use of 
 
 Gather ye rose-buds while ye may ; 
 
 Old Time is still a-flying ; 
 
 And this same flower that smiles to-day, 
 To-morrow will be dying.— Herrick. 
 
 Time wasted is existence, used is life.— Young. 
 
 Catch, then, oh, catch the transient hour ; 
 
 Improve each moment as it flies ; 
 
 Life’s a short summer—man a flower— 
 
 He dies, alas ! how soon he dies !— Johnson . 
 
 3352. TIME. Web of 
 
 Ceaselessly the weaver, Time, 
 
 Sitteth at his mystic loom, 
 
 Keeps his arrowy shuttle flying— 
 
 Every thread anears our dying— 
 
 And with melancholy chime, 
 
 Very low and sad withal, 
 
 Sings his solemn madrigal 
 
 As he weaves our web of doom. 
 
 ‘ Mortals ! ’ thus he, weaving, sings, 
 
 ‘ Bright or dark the web shall be, 
 
 As ye will it, all the tissues 
 Blending in harmonious issues 
 Of discordant colourings ; 
 
 Time the shuttle drives, but you 
 Give to every thread its hue, 
 
 And elect your destiny. ’— Burleigh. 
 
 3353. TIME? Whatis 
 
 I ask’d an aged man with hoary hairs, 
 
 Wrinkled and curved with many worldly cares. 
 
 ‘ Time is the warp of life,’ said he ; ‘ oh tell 
 The young, the fair, the gay, to weave it well! ’ 
 
 I ask’d the ancient, venerable dead, 
 
 Sages who wrote, and warriors who bled : 
 
 From the cold grave a hollow murmur flow’d, 
 
 ‘ Time sow’d the seed we reap in this abode! 
 
 I ask’d a dying sinner, ere the tide 
 
 Of life had left his veins : ‘Time!’ he replied; 
 
TIME 
 
 648 
 
 TITLES 
 
 ‘ I’ve lost it ! ah, the treasure ! ’ and he died, 
 
 I ask’d the golden sun and silver spheres. 
 
 Those bright chronometers of days and years : 
 They answer’d, ‘Time is but a meteor glare,’ 
 
 And bade me for eternity prepare. 
 
 I ask’d the Seasons, in their annual round, 
 
 Which beautify or desolate the ground ; 
 
 And they replied (no oracle more wise), 
 
 ‘ ’Tis Folly’s blank, and Wisdom’s highest prize ! ’ 
 I ask’d a spirit lost—but oh, the shriek 
 That pierced my soul! I shudder while I speak. 
 It cried, ‘ A particle ! a speck ! a mite 
 Of endless years, duration infinite ! ’ 
 
 Of things inanimate my dial I 
 Consulted, and it made me this reply : 
 
 ‘ 1 ime is the season fair of living well, 
 
 The path of glory or the path of hell.’ 
 
 I ask’d my Bible, and methinks it said, 
 
 ‘ Time is the present hour, the past has fled ; 
 
 Live ! live to-day! to-morrow never yet 
 On any human being rose or set. ’ 
 
 I ask’d old Father Time himself at last; 
 
 But in a moment he flew swiftly past, 
 
 His chariot was a cloud, the viewless wind 
 His noiseless steeds,, which left no trace behind. 
 
 I ask’d the mighty angel who shall stand 
 One foot on sea and one on solid land : 
 
 * Mortal! ’ he cried, ‘ the mystery now is o’er ; 
 Time was, Time is, but Time shall be no more! ’ 
 
 Marsden. 
 
 3354. TIME. Work of 
 
 Time’s glory is to calm contending kings, 
 
 To unmask falsehood, and bring truth to light; 
 To stamp the seal of time on aged things, 
 
 To wake the morn, and sentinel the night, 
 
 To wrong the wronger, till he render right. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 3355. TIMES. Our 
 
 Our times are in Thy hand, 
 
 O God, we wish them there ; 
 
 Our life, our friends, our souls we leave 
 Entirely to Thy care. 
 
 Our times are in Thy hand, 
 
 Whatever they may be, — 
 
 Pleasing or painful, dark or bright, 
 
 As best may seem to Thee. 
 
 Our times are in Thy hand ; 
 
 Why should we doubt or fear ? 
 
 A Father’s hand will never cause 
 His child a needless tear. 
 
 Our times are in Thy hand, 
 
 Jesus the crucified; 
 
 The hand our many sins have pierced, 
 
 Is now our guard and guide. 
 
 Our times are in Thy hand, 
 
 We’ll always trust in Thee, 
 
 Till we have left this weary land, 
 
 And all Thy glory see. 
 
 3356 . TIMES.. Slandering the 
 
 Why slander we the times? 
 
 What crimes 
 
 Have days and years, that we 
 Thus charge them with iniquity ? 
 
 If we would rightly scan, 
 
 It’s not the times are bad, but man. 
 
 If thy desire it be 
 To see 
 
 The times prove good, be thou 
 But such thyself, and surely know 
 That all thy days to thee 
 Shall, spite of mischief, happy be. 
 
 Beaumont. 
 
 3357. TITLES. 
 
 Titles of honour add not to his worth, 
 
 Who is an honour to his title.— Ford. 
 
 Man—is name of honour for a king ; 
 
 Additions take away from each chief thing. 
 
 Chapman. 
 
 All transitory titles I detest, 
 
 A virtuous life I mean to boast alone ; 
 
 Our birth’s our sires’, our virtues be our own. 
 
 Drayton. 
 
 I look down upon him 
 
 With such contempt and scorn, as on my slave ; 
 He’s a name only, and all good in him 
 He must derive from his great-grandsires’ ashes : 
 For had not their victorious acts bequeath’d 
 His titles to him, and wrote on his forehead— 
 This is a lord—he had lived unobserved 
 By any man of mark, and died as one 
 Amongst the common rout. 
 
 Beaumont and Fletcher. 
 
 A fool, indeed, has great need of a title, 
 
 It teaches men to call him count and duke, 
 
 And to forget his proper name of fool. 
 
 Crowne. 
 
 Titles, the servile courtier’s lean reward, 
 
 Sometimes the pay of virtue, but more oft 
 The hire which greatness gives to slaves and syco¬ 
 phants.— Rowe. 
 
TO-DA Y 
 
 649 
 
 TO-MORROW 
 
 With their authors in oblivion sunk 
 Vain titles lie, the servile badges oft 
 Of mean submission, not the meed of worth. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 The rank is but the guinea stamp, 
 
 The man’s the gowd, for a’ that.— Burns. 
 
 3358. TO-DAY. Crisis of 
 
 'HE crisis of man’s destiny is now, a still recurring 
 danger; 
 
 Vho can tell the trials and temptations coming with 
 the coming hour ? 
 
 'hou standest a target-like Sebastian, and the arrows 
 whistle near thee ; 
 
 Vho knoweth when he may be hit ? for great is the 
 company of archers. 
 
 lach breath is burden’d with a bidding, and every 
 minute hath its mission : 
 
 'or spirits, good and bad, cluster on the thickly- 
 peopled air; 
 
 iin may blast thee, grace may bless thee, good or 
 ill this hour; 
 
 Chance, and change, and doubt, and fear, are 
 parasites of all. 
 
 ^ man’s life is a tower, with a staircase of many 
 steps, 
 
 That, as he toileth upwards, crumble successively 
 behind him ; 
 
 \ T o going back, the past is an abyss ; no stopping, 
 for the present perisheth ; 
 
 Jut ever hastening on, precarious on the foot-hold of 
 To-day. 
 
 Dur cares are all To-day ; our joys are all To-day ; 
 
 \.nd in one little word, our life, what is it, but— 
 To-day ?— Tipper. 
 
 3359. TO-MORROW. 
 
 To-morrow you will live, you always cry : 
 
 In what far country does this morrow lie, 
 
 That ’tis so mighty long ere it arrive? 
 
 Beyond the Indies does this morrow live? 
 
 ’Tis so far-fetch’d, this morrow, that I fear 
 
 ’Twill be both very old and very dear. 
 
 To-morrow I will live, the fool does say : 
 
 To-day itself’s too late ; the wise lived yesterday. 
 
 Martial. 
 
 Our yesterday’s to-morrow now is gone, 
 
 And still a new to-morrow does come on. 
 
 We by to-morrows draw out all our store, 
 
 Till the exhausted well can yield no more. 
 
 Cowley. 
 
 In human hearts what bolder thoughts can rise 
 
 Than man’s presumption on to-morrow’s dawn ? 
 
 Where is to-morrow? In another world : 
 
 For numbers this is certain ; the reverse 
 Is sure to none ; and yet on this ‘perhaps,’ 
 
 This ‘ peradventure,’ infamous for lies, 
 
 As on a rock of adamant, we build 
 Our mountain-hopes. — Young. 
 
 To-morrow , didst thou say? 
 
 Methought I heard Horatio say, To-morrow. 
 
 Go to—I will not hear of it— To-morrow ! 
 
 ’Tis a sharper, who stakes his penury 
 Against thy plenty—who takes thy ready cash, 
 
 And pays thee nought but wishes, hopes, and pro¬ 
 mises, 
 
 The currency of idiots—injurious bankrupt, 
 
 That gulls the easy creditor ! — To-morrow l 
 It is a period nowhere to be found 
 In all the hoary registers of Time, 
 
 Unless perchance in the fool’s calendar. 
 
 Wisdom disclaims the word, nor holds society 
 With those who own it. No, my Horatio, 
 
 ’Tis Fancy’s child, and Folly is its father; 
 
 Wrought of such stuff as dreams are, and as baseless 
 As the fantastic visions of the evening. — Cotton. 
 
 To-morrow’s action? can that hoary wisdom 
 Borne down with years, still dote upon to-morrow ? 
 That fatal mistress of the young, the lazy, 
 
 The coward, and the fool, condemn’d to lose 
 An useless life in wishing for to-morrow, 
 
 Till interposing death destroys the prospect! 
 
 Strange that this general fraud from day to day 
 Should fill the world with misery undetected. 
 
 The soldier lab’ring through a winter’s march, 
 
 Still sees to-morrow dress’d in robes of triumph ; 
 Still to the lover’s long-expecting arms, 
 
 To-morrow brings the visionary bride ; 
 
 But thou, too old to bear another cheat, 
 
 Learn that the present hour alone is man’s. 
 
 Johnson. 
 
 Each morn the bees fly forth to fill the growing 
 comb, 
 
 And levy golden tribute of the uncomplaining 
 flowers; 
 
 To-morrow is their care; they toil for rest 1 o- 
 morrow ; 
 
 But man deferreth duty’s task, and loveth ease To¬ 
 day. 
 
 To-morrow is that lamp upon the marsh, which a 
 traveller never reacheth ; 
 
 To-morrow, the rainbow’s cup, coveted prize of 
 ignorance ; 
 
 To-morrow, the shifting anchorage, dangerous trust 
 of mariners; 
 
 To-morrow, the wrecker’s beacon, wily snare of the 
 destroyer. — Tupper . 
 
TO-MORRO W 
 
 650 
 
 TRA VEL 
 
 3360. TO-MORROW : too late. 
 
 Misguided genius oft has said, 
 
 When angel voices gently plead, 
 
 A deeper love for Christ to woo,—■ 
 
 ‘ See ! Fame’s bright prize is full in view, 
 
 It is no phantom I pursue ; 
 
 Give me but one day more 
 The fragrance of my earnest prayer, 
 To-morrozo , shall ascend in air, 
 
 And peace of mind secure ! ’ 
 
 With patient lips, in mercy sent, 
 
 They whisper’d still, ‘ Repent! repent! ’ 
 
 Yet vainly did implore ! 
 
 One day he said, ‘ With toil I’m spent; ’ 
 
 The next, on worldly things intent, 
 
 ‘ Oh, why perplex me more ? ’ 
 
 Again, ‘ One night of thought and rest 
 Give me, for I am sorely press’d;— 
 
 Your holy mission is not lost,— 
 
 “ Ingratitude’s unkindly frost ” 
 
 Shall melt at dawn, and Christian love 
 My portal carpet evermore ! ’ 
 
 Then Christ Himself knock’d at the door! 
 
 ‘ O, holy Guest! ’ the sinner cried,— 
 
 ‘ O, Form Divine, with melting eyes! 
 
 I see with grief Thy bleeding side ! 
 
 With sorrow hear Thy tender sighs ; 
 
 But, plunged in sin, unfit to-day 
 Am I to meditate or pray; 
 
 To-morrow come, and with me bide,— 
 
 My whole heart shall be sanctified! ’ 
 
 With soul-wrung sigh, God’s Son replied : 
 
 ‘ Alas ! to-?norrozv is too late ! 
 
 To-night shuts Mercy’s wide-swung gate ! ’ 
 
 As dirge through leafless forest sigh’d, 
 
 Roll’d mournful echoes far and wide : 
 ‘To-morrow is too late!’ — Griffith. 
 
 3361. TRADITION. 
 
 Tradition ! time’s suspected register! 
 
 Too oft religion at her trial fails ; 
 
 Instead of knowledge, teacheth her to err, 
 
 And wears out truth’s best stories into tales. 
 
 Davenant. 
 
 Traditions were a proof alone, 
 Could we be certain such they were, so known ; 
 But since some flaws in long descents may be, 
 They make not truth, but probability.— Dryden. 
 
 3362. TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Nor ought a genius less than his that writ, 
 Attempt translation ; for transplanted wit 
 
 All the defects of air and soil doth share, 
 
 And colder brains like colder climates are. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 3363. TRAVEL. 
 
 His travel has not stopp’d him 
 As you suppose, nor alter’d any freedom, 
 
 But made him far more clear and excellent: 
 
 It drains the grossness of the understanding, 
 
 And renders active and industrious spirits: 
 
 He that knows men’s manners, must of necessity 
 Best know his own, and mend those by examples:: 
 ’Tis a dull thing to travel like a mill-horse, 
 
 Still in the place he was born in, round and blinde 
 
 Beaumont and Fletcher. 
 
 Though sluggards deem it but a foolish chase, 
 And marvel men should quit their easy-chair, 
 
 The toilsome way, and long, long league to tract 
 Oh, there is sweetness in the mountain air, 
 
 And life, that bloated ease can never hope to share 
 
 Byron. ■ 
 
 For not the ceaseless change of shifted place 
 Can from the heart a settled grief erase ; 
 
 
 Nor can the purer balm of foreign air 
 Heal the distemper’d mind of aching care. 
 
 Lord Lyttelton. 
 
 3364. TRAVEL. Rules for 
 
 Religion, first, be made your utmost care, 
 
 Nor drop your native faith in foreign air; 
 
 Nor, like the fluttering triflers of the town, 
 
 Go forth with little, and come back with none. 
 Next, travel not for nought through distant lands: 
 Be wise, and just, and diligent as Sands, 
 
 Whose penetrating eye distinctly sees 
 Religions, governments, and polities. 
 
 Some only learn the difference all the while 
 Betwixt an English and a German mile: 
 
 What nation’s reckonings, at their inns, are least, 
 If coaches or post-chaises travel best; 
 
 That Adria’s isles are pleasing to behold ; 
 
 That Spain is hot, and Switzerland is cold. 
 
 Our callow youth for paintings visit Rome, 
 
 And know not the cartoons they left at home. 
 Strange sights o’er Alps and Apennines they seek, 
 But stare with silence if you name the Peak. 
 
 The famed Venetian arsenal they explore, 
 
 But slight the armoury in the London Tower: 
 With floods of speech the Vatican they praise, 
 
 But never heard of Bodly in their days. 
 
 Ashamed of home, of foreign climes they boast, 
 And Thames and Humber are in Tiber lost. 
 
 When back return’d let not your whole discourse 
 Assert the privilege of travellers : 
 
 Nor strange relations of adventures give, 
 
 Which few delight to hear, and none believe. 
 
TRA VELLERS 
 
 651 
 
 TRIALS 
 
 Throw not your country’s manners quite aside, 
 
 \ T or taint our honest air with foreign pride. 
 
 \.n Englishman (the proverb tells you true) 
 vVho turns Italian, turns a devil too : 
 
 \nd none, unless distracted, would forego 
 The British substance for the Gallic show. 
 
 3 wn that a man of worth may justly shine, 
 
 Who never Paris view’d, or pass’d the Rhine. 
 
 Samuel Wesley, Jr. 
 
 3365. TRAVELLERS. 
 
 With reverend tutor clad in habit lay, 
 
 To tease for cash, and quarrel with all day ; 
 
 With memorandum-book for every town, 
 
 And every post, and where the chaise broke down; 
 His stock, a few French phrases got by heart, 
 
 With much to learn, but nothing to impart. 
 
 The youth, obedient to his sire’s commands, 
 
 Sets off a wand’rer into foreign lands. 
 
 Surprised at all they meet, the gosling pair, 
 
 . With awkward gait, stretch’d neck, and silly stare, 
 Discover huge cathedrals built with stone, 
 
 And steeples tow’ring high much like our own ; 
 
 But show peculiar light, by many a grin 
 At Popish practices observed within.— Cowper. 
 
 Returning he proclaims by many a grace 
 By shrugs and strange contortions of his face, 
 
 ; How much a dunce that has been sent to roam, 
 Excels a dunce that has been kept at home. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 3366. TREASON. 
 
 Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep, 
 And in his simple show he harbours treason. 
 
 The fox barks not when he would steal the lamb. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 The man who rises on his country’s ruin, 
 
 Lives in a crowd of foes, himself the chief: 
 
 In vain his power, in vain his pomp and pleasure 
 His guilty thoughts, those tyrants of the soul, 
 
 Steal in unseen, and stab him in his triumph. 
 
 Martyn. 
 
 Treason doth never prosper : what’s the reason? 
 For if it prosper, none dare call it treason. 
 
 Harrington . 
 
 He who contends for freedom, 
 
 Can ne’er be justly deem’d his sovereign s foe : 
 
 No, ’tis the wretch who tempts him to subvert it, 
 The soothing slave, the traitor in the bosom, 
 
 Who best deserves that name. — Thojfison. 
 
 3367. TREATIES. 
 
 It is a vain attempt 
 To bind th’ ambitious and unjust by treaties: 
 
 These they elude a thousand specious ways ; 
 
 Or, if they cannot find a fair pretext, 
 
 They blush not in the face of Heaven to break them. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 3368. TREES. 
 
 O Reader, hast thou ever stood to see 
 The holly-tree ? 
 
 The eye that contemplates it well perceives 
 Its glossy leaves 
 
 Order’d by an intelligence so wise 
 As might confound the atheist’s sophistries. 
 
 Below, a circling fence, its leaves are seen 
 Wrinkled and keen ; 
 
 No grazing cattle through their prickly round 
 Can reach to wound ; 
 
 But as they grow where nothing is to fear, 
 
 Smooth and unarm’d the pointless leaves appear. 
 
 * I love to view these things with curious eyes, 
 
 And moralize ; 
 
 And in this wisdom of the holly-tree 
 Can emblem see 
 
 Wherewith perchance to make a pleasant lhyme 5 
 One which may profit in the after-time. —Southey. 
 
 ’Tis beautiful to see a forest stand, 
 
 Brave with its moss-grown monarchs and the pride 
 Of foliage dense, to which the south wind bland 
 Comes with a kiss, as lover to his bride ; 
 
 To watch the light grow fainter, as it streams 
 
 Through arching aisles, where branches interlace, 
 Where sombre pines rise o’er the shadowy gleams 
 Of silver birch, trembling with modest grace. 
 
 But they who dwell beside the stream and hill 
 Prize little treasures there so kindly given : 
 
 The song of birds, the babbling of the rill, 
 
 The pure unclouded light and air of heaven. 
 
 They walk as those who seeing cannot see, 
 
 Blind to this beauty even from their birth : 
 
 We value little blessings ever free ; 
 
 We covet most the rarest things of earth. 
 
 But rising from the dust of busy streets 
 
 These forest children gladden many hearts ; 
 
 As some old friend their welcome presence greets 
 The toil-worn soul, and fresher life imparts. 
 
 Their shade is doubly grateful when it lies 
 
 Above the glare which stifling walls throw back ; 
 Through quivering leaves we see the soft blue skies, 
 Then happier tread the dull, unvaried track. 
 
 Alice B. Neal. 
 
 3369. TRIALS. Benefit of 
 
 Is not the way to heavenly gain 
 Through earthly grief and loss ? 
 
TRIALS 
 
 TRIFLES 
 
 652 
 
 Rest must be won by toil and pain— 
 
 The crown repays the cross. 
 
 As woods, when shaken by the breeze, 
 Take deeper, firmer root, 
 
 As winter’s frosts but make the trees 
 Abound in summer fruit; 
 
 So every Heaven-sent pang and throe 
 That Christian firmness tries, 
 
 But nerves us for our work below, 
 
 And forms us for the skies.— Lyte. 
 
 Till from the straw the flail the corn doth beat, 
 Until the chaff be purged from the wheat, 
 
 \ ea, till the mill the grain in pieces tear, 
 
 The richness of the flour will scarce appear. 
 
 So, till men’s persons great afflictions touch, 
 
 If worth be found, their worth is not so much ; 
 Because, like wheat in straw, they have not yet 
 That value which in thrashing they may get. 
 For till the bruising flails of God’s corrections 
 Have thrashed out of us our vain affections, 
 
 Till those corruptions which do misbecome us 
 Are by Thy sacred Spirit winnow’d from us ; 
 Until from us the straw of worldly treasures, 
 Till all the dusty chaff of empty pleasures. 
 
 Yea, till His flail upon us He doth lay, 
 
 To thrash the husk of this our flesh away, 
 
 And leave the soul uncover’d ; nay, yet more. 
 Till God shall make our very spirit poor, 
 
 We shall not up to highest wealth aspire ; 
 
 But then we shall ; and that is my desire. 
 
 3370. TRIALS : not the whole of life. 
 
 Did we think of the light and sunshine. 
 
 Of the blessings left us still, 
 
 When we sit and ponder darkly 
 And blindly o’er life’s ill, 
 
 How should we dispel the shadows 
 Of still and deep despair. 
 
 And lessen the weight of anguish 
 Which every heart must bear ! 
 
 The clouds may rest on the present, 
 
 And sorrow on days that are gone, 
 
 But no night is so utterly cheerless 
 That we may not look for the dawn: 
 
 And there is no human being' 
 
 With so wholly dark a lot, 
 
 But the heart by turning the picture 
 May find some sunny spot : 
 
 For, as in the days of winter, 
 
 When the snow-drifts whiten the hill, 
 Some birds in the air will flutter, 
 
 And warble to cheer us still; 
 
 So, if we would hark to the music," 
 
 Some hope with a starry wing, 
 
 In the days of our darkest sorrow, 
 
 W ill sit in the heart and sing. 
 
 Phcebe Cary . 
 
 337 1 * TRIALS. Prayer in view of 
 
 As every day thy mercy spares 
 Will bring its trials and its cares, 
 
 O Saviour, till my life shall end, 
 
 Be I hou my counsellor and friend ; 
 
 Teach me thy precepts, all Divine, 
 
 And be Thy great example mine. 
 
 Shrubsole. 
 
 3372. TRIFLERS. 
 
 Triflers not even in trifles can excel; 
 
 ; Tis solid bodies only polish well. — Young. 
 
 3373 - TRIFLES. Conquest of 
 
 How is it o’er the strongest mind 
 That trifles hold such sway ? 
 
 A word—nay, e’en a look unkind, 
 
 May darken all life’s day. 
 
 Oh, in this world of daily care, 
 
 The thousands that have err’d 
 Can any hardship better bear 
 Than they can bear a word ! 
 
 The man who with heroic heart 
 Can stern misfortune meet, 
 
 Unflinchingly perform his part. 
 
 And struggle ’gainst defeat 
 With faith unalter’d—yet can lose 
 His temper, e’en for aught 
 Which falls not as his will would choose, 
 
 Or proves not what he sought! 
 
 And woman can forgive a wrong 
 Which casts her on the world, 
 
 Far better than forgive the tongue 
 That may some sneer have hurl’d; 
 
 A thousand times prefer a lot 
 As hard as want deplores, 
 
 Than feel or think herself forgot 
 By one her heart adores ! 
 
 Alas, the human mould’s at fault; 
 
 And still by turns it claims 
 A nobleness that can exalt, 
 
 A littleness that shames'! 
 
 Of strength and weakness still combined, 
 Compounded of the mean and grand ; 
 
 And trifles thus will shake the mind 
 That would a tempest stand. 
 
TRIFLES 
 
 653 
 
 TRUST 
 
 Give me that soul-superior power, 
 
 That conquest over fate, 
 
 Which sways the weakness of the hour, 
 
 Rules little things as great; 
 
 That lulls the human waves of strife 
 With words and feelings kind. 
 
 And makes the trials of our life 
 The triumphs of our mind !— Charles Swain. 
 
 3374. TRIFLES. Influence of 
 
 What is a trifle ? a thoughtless word, 
 
 Forgotten as soon as said ? 
 
 Perchance its echo shall yet be heard 
 When the speaker is with the dead. 
 
 That thoughtless word is a random dart, 
 
 And strikes we know not where ; 
 
 It may rankle long in some tender heart— 
 
 Is it a trifle there? 
 
 Is it a trifle—the first false step 
 On the dizzy verge of sin ? 
 
 ’Tis treacherous ground—one little slip 
 May plunge us headlong in. 
 
 One light temptation, and we may wear 
 Death’s galling chain for aye ; 
 
 One little moment of heartfelt prayer 
 May rend those bonds away. 
 
 This world is but little if rightly weigh’d, 
 
 And trifling its joy or care ; 
 
 But not while we linger beneath its shade— 
 There are no trifles here. 
 
 The lightest burden may w'eigh like lead 
 On the faint and weary soul, 
 
 In the uphill path it perforce must tread 
 Before it reach the goal. 
 
 3375. TRIFLES : not unimportant. 
 
 'hink nought a trifle, though it small appear ; 
 
 ■ mall sands the mountains, moments make the year; 
 tnd trifles life. Your care to trifles give, 
 
 )r you may die before you truly live.— Young. 
 
 3376. TROUBLES : will soon be over. 
 
 A little while ’ of mingled joy and sorrow, 
 
 A few more years to wander here below, 
 
 To wait the dawning of that golden morrow, 
 
 When morn shall break above our night of woe. 
 
 few more thorns about our pathway growing, 
 
 Ere yet our hands may cull the heavenly flowers— 
 I'he morn of joy, but first the tearful sowing, 
 
 Ere we may rest these weary souls of ours. 
 
 ‘ A little while,’—and we shall dwell for ever 
 Within our bright, our everlasting Home, 
 
 Where time, or space, or death no more can sever 
 Our grief-wrung hearts ;—and pain can never come. 
 
 3377. TROUBLES : will soon be over. 
 
 ‘ A LITTLE while ’ for patient vigil-keeping, 
 
 To face the storm, to wrestle with the strong ; 
 
 ‘ A little while ’ to sow the seed with weeping, 
 
 Then bind the sheaves and sing the harvest song. 
 
 ‘ A little while ’ to wear the robe of sadness, 
 
 And toil with weary step through miry ways ; 
 
 Then to pour forth the fragrant oil of gladness, 
 
 And clasp the girdle round the robe of praise. 
 
 ‘A little while,’ midst shadow and illusion, 
 
 To strive, by faith, love’s mysteries to spell ; 
 
 Then read each dark enigma’s bright solution, 
 
 And hail sight’s verdict, ‘ He doth all things well.’ 
 
 3378. TRUST. Filial 
 
 The child leans on its parent’s breast, 
 
 Leaves there its cares and is at rest; 
 
 The bird sits singing by its nest 
 And tells aloud 
 
 His trust in God, and so is blest 
 ’Neath every cloud. 
 
 He has no store, he sows no seed ; 
 
 Y et sings aloud, and doth not heed; 
 
 By flowing stream or grassy mead, 
 
 He sings to shame 
 Men who forget, in fear of need, 
 
 A Father’s name.— Williams. 
 
 3379. TRUST. Supporting 
 
 Securely cabin’d in the ship below, 
 
 Through darkness and through storm I cross the 
 sea, 
 
 A pathless wilderness of waves to me: 
 
 But yet I do not fear, because I know 
 
 That he who guides the good ship o’er that waste 
 Sees in the stars her shining pathway traced. 
 Blindfold I walk this life’s bewildering maze, 
 
 Up flinty steep, through frozen mountain pass, 
 Through thorn-set barren and through deep morass ; 
 But strong in faith I tread the uneven ways, 
 
 And bare my head unshrinking to the blast, 
 Because my Feather’s arm is round me cast ; 
 
 And if the way seems rough, I only clasp 
 The hand that leads me with a firmer grasp. 
 
 Anne Lynch. 
 
TRUTH 
 
 654 
 
 TRUTH 
 
 3380. TRUTH. Calmness of 
 
 All truth is calm, 
 
 Refuge and rock and tower; 
 
 The more of truth the more of calm, 
 
 Its calmness is its power. 
 
 Truth is not strife, 
 
 Nor is to strife allied ; 
 
 It is the error that is bred 
 Of storm, by rage and pride. 
 
 Calmness is truth, 
 
 And truth is calmness still; 
 
 Truth lifts its forehead to the storm, 
 
 Like some eternal hill.— Bonar. 
 
 3381. TRUTH: changeless. 
 
 It fortifies my soul to know 
 That, though I perish, Truth is so : 
 
 That, howsoe’er I stray and range, 
 
 Whate’er I do, Thou dost not change : 
 
 I steadier step when I recall 
 
 That, if I slip, Thou dost not fall.— Clough. 
 
 3382. TRUTH. Controversies about 
 
 Still as a statue, on as firm a base, 
 
 But warm and rosy with life-giving life, 
 
 Stands Truth ; not veil’d, but shelter’d from the 
 strife 
 
 Of clashing passions in a holy place. 
 
 Around, with busy hands and upturn’d face, 
 
 Her votaries stand ; no sacrificial knife 
 Have they, but gravers, there, and tints are rife, 
 And tablets well prepared, whereon they trace, 
 
 Or strive to trace, her features pure and fair. 
 These all around their different stations take ; 
 
 Some love the twilight, some the noonday glare, 
 And some for morning’s misty brilliance wake. 
 
 And so it is, of all the limners there, 
 
 Not any two the self-same image make. 
 
 But when from out the temple-doors they go, 
 
 And raise their finish’d works that all may see, 
 
 A hideous clamour greets their industry : 
 
 ‘Which is the Truth?' say men. ‘How may we 
 know 
 
 Which is the goddess ? O ye limners, show ! 
 
 So manifold we know she cannot be, 
 
 For Truth is one—therefore this is not she.’ 
 
 And then, for very love of Truth, ah, woe ! 
 
 They trample under-foot her queenly form, 
 
 And drag it through the miry sloughs of doubt! 
 
 Yet while her pale priests wrangle in the storm. 
 Pleading their adverse claims with cry and shout, 
 There, all the time, life-giving, rosy, warm, 
 Stands Truth, with holy quiet clothed about. 
 
 T. M. H. 
 
 3383. TRUTH. Disclosures of 
 
 Searching the skiey depths all night in vain, 
 
 The starry seer hath known this mystery— 
 
 That the sky orb, which over half the sky 
 Hath balk’d his chase, and mock’d his utmost pain, 
 If (haply while the daylight pour’d amain 
 Into the empty concave of the night) 
 
 Hath stepp’d into his glass, as clear to sight 
 As the one tree that stars a glassy plain, 
 
 So is it known that some secretive Truth, 
 
 Which Thought and Patience strove in vain to find 
 Just when Despair and Doubt were swallowing al 
 Plath dropp’d into the heart without a call, 
 Conspicuous as a Fire, and sweet as Youth, 
 
 An everlasting stronghold to the mind.— Burbidge. 
 
 3384. TRUTH. Fidelity to 
 
 Convince the world that you’re devout and trm 
 Be just in all you say, in all you do, 
 
 Whatever be your birth, you’re sure to be 
 A peer of the first quality to me. — Juvenal. 
 
 This above all, to thine own self be true ; 
 
 And it must follow, as the night the day, 
 
 Thou canst not then be false to any man. 
 
 Shakespeare, j 
 
 3385. TRUTH. Grace of 
 
 Hard by Truth’s temple 
 A lovely being stood ; 
 
 Array’d in white, 
 
 The symbol of her God. 
 
 The unholy throng pass’d by, 
 
 And stood aghast; 
 
 Said, Let me be like her, 
 
 And on they pass’d. 
 
 There’s beauty in that form 
 Not elsewhere seen ; 
 
 It's in her name and nature, 
 
 And her stately mien. 
 
 Her name is Truth, 
 
 A lovely Christian grace ; 
 
 Among Heaven’s mighty 
 She ever holds her place. 
 
 The earth shall pass away, 
 
 The stars shall fall, 
 
 The heavens roll together 
 Like a parchment scroll; 
 
 But Truth shall live for ever, 
 
 And through endless ages give 
 Her blessings to the sainted, 
 
 And fail them never, never. 
 
TRUTH 
 
 655 
 
 TRUTH 
 
 -386. TRUTH. Guidance of 
 
 0 TRUTH divine ! enlighten’d by thy ray, 
 
 I grope and guess no more, but see my way. 
 
 A rbut knot. 
 
 I shut my eyes, in grief and shame, 
 
 Upon the dreary past; 
 
 My heart, my soul pour’d recklessly 
 On dreams that could not last: 
 
 My bark was drifted down the stream 
 At will of wind or wave,— 
 
 An idle, light, and fragile thing, 
 
 That few had cared to save. 
 
 Henceforth the tiller Truth shall hold, 
 
 And steer as Conscience tells, 
 
 And I will brave the storms of Fate, 
 Though wide the ocean swells. 
 
 I know my soul is strong and high, 
 
 If once I give it sway ; 
 
 I feel a glorious power within, 
 
 Though light I seem and gay. 
 
 Frances S. Osgood. 
 
 3387. TRUTH : imperishable. 
 
 The only amaranthine flower on earth 
 Is virtue ; th’ only lasting treasure, truth. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 Marble and recording brass decay, 
 
 And like the ’graver’s memory, pass away ; 
 
 The works of man inherit, as is just, 
 
 Their author’s frailty, and return to dust; 
 
 But truth divine for ever stands secure, 
 
 Its head is guarded, as its base is sure; 
 
 Fix’d in the rolling flood of endless years, 
 
 The pillar of the eternal plan appears ; 
 
 The raving storm and dashing wave defies, 
 
 Built by that Architect who built the skies. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 3388. TRUTH : must be sought earnestly. 
 
 Truth, like a single point, escapes the sight, 
 
 And claims attention to perceive it right; 
 
 But what resembles truth is soon descried, 
 
 Spread like a surface, and expanded wide. 
 
 Torn fret. 
 
 Errors, like straws, upon the surface flow : 
 
 He who would search for pearls must dive below. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 But what is Truth? ’Twas Pilate’s question, put 
 To Truth itself, that deign’d him no reply. 
 
 And wherefore? Will not God impart Plis light 
 To them that ask it? Freely,—’tis His joy, 
 
 His glory, and His nature, to impart. 
 
 But to the proud, uncandid, insincere, 
 
 Our negligent enquirer, not a spark. — Cowper. 
 
 3389. TRUTH : must be spoken wisely. 
 
 The truth you speak, doth lack some gentleness, 
 And time to speak it in : you rub the sore, 
 
 When you should bring the plaster.— Shakespeare. 
 
 ’Tis not enough your counsel shall be true ; 
 
 Blunt truths more mischief than nice falsehoods do. 
 Men must be taught as if you taught them not, 
 
 And things unknown proposed as things forgot. 
 Without good breeding, truth is disapproved ; 
 
 That only makes superior sense beloved.— Pope. 
 
 3390. TRUTH : not loved for its own sake. 
 
 When fiction rises pleasing to the eye, 
 
 Men will believe because they love the lie; 
 
 But truth herself, if clouded with a frown, 
 
 Must have some solemn proof to pass her down. 
 
 Churchill . 
 
 3391. TRUTH. Penalty of the rejection of 
 
 Hear the just law, the judgment of the skies ! 
 
 He that hates truth shall be the dupe of lies, 
 
 And he that will be cheated to the last, 
 
 Delusions, strong as hell, shall bind him fast. 
 
 But if the wanderer his mistake discern, 
 
 Judge his own ways, and sigh for a return, 
 
 Bewilder’d once, must he bewail his loss 
 
 For ever and for ever? No—the Cross !— Cozvper. 
 
 3392. TRUTH. Price of 
 
 Great truths are dearly bought. The common 
 truth, 
 
 Such as men give and take from day to day, 
 Comes in the common walk of easy life, 
 
 Blown by the careless wind across our way. 
 
 Bought in the market, at the current price, 
 
 Bred of the smile, the jest, perchance the bowl; 
 
 It tells no tales of daring or of worth, 
 
 Nor pierces even the surface of a soul. 
 
 Great truths are greatly won. Not found by chance, 
 Nor wafted on the breath of summer-dream ; 
 
 But grasp’d in the great struggle of the soul, 
 Hard-buffeting with adverse wind and stream. 
 
 Not in the general mart, ’mid corn and wine ; 
 
 Not in the merchandise of gold and gems ; 
 
 Not in the world’s gay hall of midnight mirth ; 
 
 Not ’mid the blaze of regal diadems ; 
 
TRUTH 
 
 656 
 
 TRUTH 
 
 But in the day of conflict, fear, and grief, 
 
 When the strong hand of God, put forth in might, 
 Ploughs up the subsoil of the stagnant heart, 
 
 And brings the imprison’d truth-seed to the light. 
 
 Wrung from the troubled spirit, in hard hours 
 Of weakness, solitude, perchance of pain, 
 
 Truth springs, like harvest from the well-plough’d 
 field, 
 
 And the soul feels it has not wept in vain.— Bonar. 
 
 3393. TRUTH. Progress of 
 
 Truth is eternal, but her effluence, 
 
 With endless change, is fitted to the hour ; 
 
 Her mirror is turn’d forward to reflect 
 The promise of the future, not the past. 
 
 He who would win the name of truly great 
 Must understand his own age and the next, 
 
 And make the present ready to fulfil 
 Its prophecy, and with the future merge 
 Gently and peacefully, as wave with wave. 
 
 The future works out great men’s destinies ; 
 
 The present is enough for common souls, 
 
 Who, never looking forward, are indeed 
 Mere clay, wherein the footprints of their age 
 Are petrified for ever : better those 
 Who lead the blind old giant by the hand 
 From out the pathless desert where he gropes, 
 And set him onward in his darksome way. 
 
 I do not fear to follow out the truth, 
 
 Albeit along the precipice’s edge. 
 
 Let us speak plain : there is more force in names 
 Than most men dream of; and a lie may keep 
 Its throne a whole age longer, if it skulk 
 Behind the shield of some fair-seeming name. 
 
 Lowell. 
 
 3394. TRUTH : the supreme excellence of cha¬ 
 
 racter. 
 
 O how much more doth beauty beauteous seem 
 By that sweet ornament which truth doth give ! 
 The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem 
 For that sweet odour which doth in it live. 
 
 The canker-blooms have full as deep a dye 
 As the perfumed tincture of the roses, 
 
 Hang on such thorns, and play as wantonly 
 
 When summer’s breath their masked buds dis¬ 
 closes. 
 
 But, for their virtue only is their show, 
 
 They live unwoo’d, and unrespected fade, 
 
 Die to themselves. Sweet roses do not so ; 
 
 Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odours made : 
 And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth, 
 
 When that shall fade, by verse distils your truth. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 3395 - TRUTH : unconquerable. 
 
 Truth, crush’d to earth, shall rise again : 
 
 The eternal years of God are hers ; 
 
 But Error, wounded, writhes with pain, 
 
 And dies among his worshippers.— Bryant. 
 
 3396. TRUTH. Witnessing for 
 
 Thou for the testimony of the truth hast borne, 
 Universal reproach; far worse to bear 
 Than violence ; for this was all thy care 
 To stand approved in sight of God, though worlds 
 Judged thee perverse.— Milton. 
 
 Truths would you teach, or save a sinking land ? 
 All feai', none aid you, and few understand. 
 Painful pre-eminence ! yourself to view 
 Above life’s weakness, and its comforts too. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 There is a wreath for him whose hand 
 The crimson tide of battle leads ; 
 
 The triumph of the victor’s brand 
 
 Death with its slaughter’d thousands feeds : 
 
 Is there no wreath for Christian worth, 
 
 For him that fights for truth on earth ? 
 
 Charles Swain. 
 
 Knowing this, that never yet 
 Share of Truth was vainly set 
 In the world’s wide fallow ; 
 
 After-hands shall sow the seed, 
 After-hands from hill and mead 
 Reap the harvests yellow. 
 
 Thus, with somewhat of the seer, 
 
 Must the moral pioneer 
 From the future borrow ; 
 
 Clothe the waste with dreams of grain, 
 And on midnight’s sky of rain 
 
 Paint the golden morrow.— Whittier. 
 
 Man fearlessly his voice for truth should raise, 
 When truth would force its way in deed or word, 
 Whether for him the popular voice of praise 
 Or the cold sneer of unbelief is heard : 
 
 Like the first martyr when his voice arose 
 Distinct above the hisses of his foes.— Phoebe Cary. 
 
 Peace to the true man’s ashes ! weep for those 
 W T hose days in old delusions have grown dim : 
 Such lives as his are triumphs, and their close 
 An immortality : weep not for him. 
 
 As feathers wafted from the eagle’s wings 
 
 Lie bright among the rocks they cannot warm, 
 
 So lie the flowery lays that Genius brings, 
 
 In the cold turf that wraps his honour’d form. 
 
TWILIGHT 
 
 65 7 
 
 TYRANTS 
 
 A practical rebuker of vain strife, 
 
 Eolder in deeds than words, from beardless youth 
 To the white hairs of age, he made his life 
 A beautiful consecration to the Truth. 
 
 Alice Cary. 
 
 3397. TWILIGHT. 
 
 The shadows of the evening hours 
 Fall from the darkening sky ; 
 
 Upon the fragrance of the flowers 
 The dews of evening lie : 
 
 Before thy throne, O Lord of heaven, 
 
 We kneel at close of day : 
 
 Look on Thy children from on high, 
 
 And hear us while we pray. 
 
 Adelaide A. Procter. 
 
 ’Twixt kings and tyrants there’s this difference known. 
 Kings seek their subjects’ good, tyrants their own. 
 
 Herrick. 
 
 When those whom FIeaven distinguishes o’er millions, 
 Profusely gives them honours, riches, power, 
 Whate’er the expanded heart can wish ; when they, 
 Accepting the reward, neglect the duty, 
 
 Or, worse, pervert those gifts to deeds of ruin ; 
 
 Is there a wretch they rule so mean as they ! 
 
 Guilty at once of sacrilege to Heaven, 
 
 And of perfidious robbery to man.— Mallet. 
 
 Power is a curse when in a tyrant's hands, 
 
 But in a bigot tyrant’s—treble curse.— Miller. 
 
 There is an evening twilight of the heart, 
 
 When its wild passion-waves are lull’d to rest, 
 And the eye sees life’s fairy scenes depart, 
 
 As fades the day-beam in the rosy west. 
 
 ’Tis with a nameless feeling of regret 
 We gaze upon them as they melt away, 
 
 And fondly would we bid them linger yet, 
 
 But Hope is round us with her angel lay, 
 
 Hailing afar some happier moonlight hour : 
 
 Dear are her whispers still, though lost their early 
 power. — Halleck. 
 
 3398. TYRANNY. 
 
 But what avail her unexhausted stores, 
 
 Her bloomy mountains, and her sunny shores, 
 With all the gifts that heaven and earth impart, 
 
 ' The smiles of nature, and the charms of art, 
 While proud oppression in her valleys reigns, 
 And tyranny usurps her happy plains ?— Addison. 
 
 Tyranny 
 
 Is far the worst of treasons. Dost thou deem 
 None rebels except subjects? The prince who 
 Neglects or violates his trust is more 
 A brigand than the robber chief.— Byron. 
 
 Think’st thou there is no tyranny but that 
 Of blood and chains? The despotism of vice, 
 The weakness and the wickedness of luxury, 
 The negligence, the apathy, the evils 
 Of sensual sloth, produce ten thousand tyrants, 
 Whose delegated cruelty surpasses 
 The worst acts of one energetic master, 
 However harsh and hard in his own bearing. 
 
 3399 - TYRANTS. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 The fiend with necessity, 
 
 The tyrant’s plea, excused his devilish deeds. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 Though the structure of a tyrant’s throne 
 Rise on the necks of half the suffering world, 
 
 Fear trembles in the cement: Prayers and tears 
 And secret curses sap its mouldering base, 
 
 And steal the pillars of allegiance from it; 
 
 Then let a single arm but dare the sway, 
 Pleadlong it turns and drives upon destruction. 
 
 Brooke. 
 
 Not claim hereditary, not the trust 
 Of frank election, 
 
 Not even the high anointing hand of Heaven, 
 
 Can authorize oppression; give a law 
 For lawless power ; wed faith to violation ; 
 
 On reason build misrule, or justly bind 
 Allegiance to injustice.—Tyranny 
 Absolves all faith ; and who invades our rights, 
 Howe’er his own commence, can never be 
 But an usurper.— Brooke. 
 
 I am told, thou call’st thyself a king. 
 Know, if thou art one, that the poor have rights : 
 And power, in all its pride, is less than justice. 
 
 Hill. 
 
 The aspirer once attain’d unto the top, 
 
 Cuts off those means by which himself got up : 
 
 And with a harder hand, and straiter rein, 
 Doth curb that looseness he did find before ; 
 
 Doubting the occasion like might serve again ; 
 His own example makes him fear the more. 
 
 Daniel. 
 
 The tyrant now 
 
 Trusts not to men : nightly within his chamber 
 The watch-dog guards his couch, the only friend 
 He now dares trust.— Joanna Baillie. 
 
 Now hath his loaded soul gone to its place, 
 
 And ne’er a pitying voice from all his kind. 
 
 Cries, ‘ God have mercy on him.’ 
 
 Joanna Baillie. 
 
 42 
 
UNBELIEF 
 
 658 
 
 UNION 
 
 Goaded by ambition’s sting 
 The hero sunk into the king! 
 
 Then he fell—so perish all 
 
 Who would men by man enthral!— Byron. 
 
 3400. UNBELIEF. Credulity of 
 
 An atheist is ever the most credulous, 
 
 Snatching at any foolish cause that may dispel his 
 doubts; 
 
 And, even as it were for ridicule, a spectacle to men 
 and angels. 
 
 The captious and cautious unbeliever is of all men 
 weakest to believe ; 
 
 Cut from the anchorage of God, his bark is' a play¬ 
 thing of the billows ; 
 
 The compass of his principle is broken, the rudder 
 of his faith unshipped : 
 
 Chance and Fate, in a stultified antagonism, govern 
 all for him; 
 
 Truth sprang from the conflict of falsities, and the 
 multitude of accidents hath bred design ! 
 
 Where is the imposture so gross that shall not entrap 
 his curiosity ? 
 
 What superstition is so abject that it doth not blanch 
 his cheek ? 
 
 Whereof can he be sure, with whom chaos is sub¬ 
 stitute for order ? 
 
 How should his silly structure stand, a pyramid 
 built upon its apex ? 
 
 Yea, I have seen grey-headed men, the bastard slips 
 of science, 
 
 Go for light to glow-worms, while they scorn the 
 sun at noon; 
 
 Men, who fear no God, trembling at a gipsy’s curse; 
 
 Men, who jest at revelation, clinging to a madman’s 
 prophecy!— Tupper. 
 
 3401. UNBELIEF. Influence of 
 
 Trust is great in either world, if any would be well. 
 
 Verily the sceptical propensity is a universal foe ; 
 
 Sneering Pyrrho never found, nor cared to find, a 
 friend : 
 
 How could he trust another ? and himself, whom 
 would he not deceive? 
 
 His proper gains were all his aim, and interests clash 
 with kindness. 
 
 So the Bedouin goeth armed, an enemy to all, 
 
 The spear is stuck beside his couch, the dagger hid 
 beneath his pillow. 
 
 For society, void of mutual trust, of credit, and of 
 faith, 
 
 Would fall asunder as a waterspout, snapped from 
 the cloud’s attraction.— Tupper. 
 
 ' ■ 
 
 3402. UNHAPPINESS. The World’s 
 
 The world is wise, for the world is old; 
 
 Five thousand years their tale have told ; 
 
 Yet the world is not happy, as the world might be— 
 Why is it? why is it? O answer me ! 
 
 The world is kind if we ask not too much ; 
 
 It is sweet to the taste, and smooth to the touch; 
 
 Yet the world is not happy, as the world might be —i 
 Why is it ? why is it? O answer me ! 
 
 The world is strong with an awful strength, 
 
 And full of life in its breadth and length ; 
 
 Yet the world is not happy, as the world might be-l 
 Why is it ? why is it ? O answer me ! 
 
 The world is so beautiful one may fear 
 Its borrow’d beauty might make it too dear; 
 
 Yet the world is not happy, as the world might be-J 
 Why is it? why is it? O answer me ! 
 
 The world is good in its own poor way, 
 
 There is rest by night and high spirits by day ; 
 
 Yet the world is not happy, as the world might be-!' 
 Why is it ? why is it ? O answer me ! 
 
 The cross shines fair, and the church-bell rings, 
 
 And the earth is peopled with holy things ; 
 
 Yet the world is not happy, as the world might be-| 
 Why is it ? why is it ? O answer me ! 
 
 What lackest thou, world? for God made thee c r 
 old; 
 
 Why thy faith gone out, and thy love grown cold ? 
 Thou art not happy, as thou mightest be, 
 
 For the want of Christ’s simplicity. 
 
 It is blood thou lackest, thou poor old world! 
 
 Who shall make thy love hot for thee, frozen ol< 
 world ? 
 
 Thou art not happy, as thou mightest be, 
 
 For the love of dear Jesus is little in thee. 
 
 Poor world! if thou cravest a better day, 
 
 Remember that Christ must have Plis own way; 
 
 I mourn thou art not as thou mightest be, 
 
 But the love of God would do all for thee.— Faber. 
 
 3403. UNION. Fable of 
 
 Observe the dying father speak, 
 
 Try, lads, can you this bundle break ; 
 
 .■Then bids the youngest of the six 
 Take up a well-bound heap of sticks. 
 
 They thought it was an old man’s maggot; 
 And strove by turns to break the fagot: 
 
 In vain ; the complicated wands 
 . Were much too strong for all their hands. 
 
UNKINDNESS 
 
 659 
 
 VANITY 
 
 See, said the sire, how soon ’tis done : 
 
 Then took and broke them one by one. 
 
 So strong you’ll be in friendship tied ; 
 
 So quickly broke, if you divide. 
 
 Keep close then, boys, and never quarrel : 
 Here ends the fable and the moral.— Swift. 
 
 3404. UNKINDNESS. 
 
 To the noble mind 
 
 Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 In nature there’s no blemish but the mind ; 
 
 None can be call’d deform’d, but the unkind : 
 Virtue is beauty ; but the beauteous, evil, 
 
 Are empty trunks o’erflourish’d by the devil. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Since trifles make the sum of human things, 
 
 And half our misery from our foibles springs ; 
 Since life’s best joys consist in peace and ease, 
 And few can save or serve, but all may please; 
 Oh ! let the ungentle spirit learn from hence 
 A small unkindness is a great offence. 
 
 Large bounties to restore we wish in vain, 
 
 But all may shun the guilt of giving pain. 
 
 Hannah More. 
 
 3405. UNKNOWN APOSTLES. 
 
 Some were among the apostles’ band 
 Whose names alone we read ; 
 
 Nor trace their course, by sea or land, 
 
 N or where they sow’d the seed. 
 
 Only, by proof full sure, we know 
 They bore no traitor’s blame ; 
 
 They kept the faith, in weal and woe. 
 
 And spread the Saviour’s name. 
 
 Thou may’st to Christ as much belong. 
 
 Albeit alike obscure; 
 
 Thy faith and love as John’s be strong. 
 
 And more than Peter’s sure. 
 
 Though nought of thee be told by fame. 
 
 Thou may’st high work essay ; 
 
 And teach to throngs the Saviour’s name. 
 Apostle in thy day. 
 
 3406. USURPERS. 
 
 A sceptre snatch’d with an unruly hand. 
 
 Must be as boisterously maintain’d as gain’d ; 
 And he that stands upon a slippery place. 
 Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 The man who rises on his country’s ruin 
 Lives in a crowd of foes, himself the chief: 
 
 In vain his power, in vain his pomp and pleasures, 
 
 His guilty thoughts, those tyrants of the soul, 
 Steal in unseen, and stop him in his triumph. 
 
 Martyn. 
 
 3407. UNWORTHINESS. Confession of 
 
 Lord, many times I am aweary quite 
 Of my own self, my sin and vanity ; 
 
 Yet be not Thou, or I am lost outright, 
 
 Weary of me. 
 
 And hate against myself I often bear, 
 
 And enter with myself in fierce debate ; 
 
 Take Thou my part against myself, nor share 
 
 In that just hate. 
 
 Best friends might loathe us, if what things perverse 
 We know of our own selves they also knew ; 
 Lord, Holy One ! if Thou who knowest worse, 
 
 Should’st loathe us too ! 
 
 Trench. 
 
 3408. VALOUR. 
 
 For as we see the eclipsed sun 
 By mortals is more gazed upon 
 Than when, adorn’d with all his light, 
 
 He shines in serene sky most bright, 
 
 So valour in a low estate 
 
 Is more admired and wonder’d at.— Butler. 
 
 True valour 
 
 Lies in the mind, the never-yielding purpose, 
 Nor owns the blind award of giddy fortune. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 3409. VANITY 
 
 ’Tis an old maxim in the schools, 
 
 That vanity’s the food of fools; 
 
 Yet now and then your men of wit 
 Will condescend to take a bit.— -Swift. 
 
 3410. VANITY. Life’s 
 
 Fame’s but a hollow echo ; gold, pure clay ; 
 Honour, the darling of but one short day ; 
 
 Beauty, th’ eye’s idol, but a damask’d skin; 
 
 State, but a golden prison to live in, 
 
 And torture free-born minds ; embroider’d trains 
 Merely but pageants for proud swelling veins ; 
 
 And blood allied to greatness is alone 
 Inherited, not purchased, not our own. 
 
 Fame, honour, beauty, state, train, blood, and birth, 
 Are but the fading blossoms of the earth. — Wotton. 
 
 The thirsty rivers drink their store, 
 
 And bear it rolling to the shore, 
 
 But still the ocean craves for more. 
 
 ’Tis endless labour everywhere ! 
 
 Sound cannot satisfy the ear. 
 
 Light cannot fill the craving eye, 
 
 Nor riches half our wants supply ; 
 
VARIETY 
 
 660 
 
 VICE 
 
 Pleasure but doubles future pain, 
 
 And joy brings sorrow in her train ; 
 
 Laughter is mad, and reckless mirth— 
 
 What does she in this weary earth ? 
 
 Should Wealth, or Fame, our life employ, 
 Death comes our labour to destroy; 
 
 To snatch the un tasted cup away 
 For which we toil’d so many a day. 
 
 Anne Bronte. 
 
 3411. VARIETY. 
 
 Wherefore did Nature pour her bounties forth 
 With such a full and unwithdrawing hand, 
 
 Covering the earth with odours, fruits, and flocks, 
 Thronging the seas with spawn innumerable, 
 
 But all to please and sate a curious taste ?— Milton. 
 
 If all the world 
 
 Should in a pet of temperance feed on pulse, 
 
 Drink the clear stream, and nothing wear but frieze, 
 The All-Giver would be unthank’d, would be un¬ 
 praised.— Milton. 
 
 Variety’s the source of joy below, 
 
 From which still fresh revolving pleasures flow ; 
 
 In books and love the mind one end pursues, 
 
 And only change the expiring flame renews.— Gay. 
 
 Countless the various species of mankind, 
 
 Countless the shades which sep’rate mind from mind; 
 No general object of desire is known ; 
 
 Each has his will, and each pursues his own. 
 
 Gifford. 
 
 3412. VENGEANCE: belongs to God alone. 
 
 Speak not of vengeance ! ’tis the right of God. 
 ‘Vengeance is His.’ Who shall usurp the bolt 
 And launch it for Omnipotence? shall man 
 Assume the right of judgment, or prescribe 
 How far the line of mercy shall extend, 
 
 Or punishment shall stretch its iron rod ? 
 
 In thine own cause to judge, who gave thee right, 
 Presumptuous man !— C. P. Layard. 
 
 3413. VENGEANCE. Example of 
 
 The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, 
 And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold ; 
 And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the 
 sea, 
 
 When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. 
 
 I.ike the leaves of the forest when summer is green, 
 That host with their banners at sunset were seen ; 
 Like the leaves of the forest when autumn hath 
 blown, 
 
 That host on the morrow lay wither’d and strown. 
 
 For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the 
 blast, 
 
 And breathed on the face of the foe as he pass’d. 
 And the eyes of the sleepers wax’d deadly and chill, 
 And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew 
 still. 
 
 And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, 
 
 But through it there roll’d not the breath of his 
 pride; 
 
 And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf. 
 And cold as the spray of the rock-beaten surf. 
 
 And there lay the rider distorted and pale, 
 
 With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail : 
 And the tents were all silent, the banners alone, 
 
 The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown. 
 
 * 
 
 And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail, 
 
 And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal; 
 
 And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword, 
 Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 3414. VICE. Beginning of 
 
 A LITTLE theft, a small deceit, 
 
 Too often leads to more ; 
 
 ’Tis hard at first, but tempts the feet 
 As through an open door. 
 
 Just as the broadest rivers run 
 From small and distant springs, 
 
 The greatest crimes that men have done 
 Flave grown from little things. 
 
 3415. VICE. Familiarity with 
 
 Vice is a monster of so frightful mien. 
 
 As to be hated needs but to be seen ; 
 
 Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face, 
 
 We first endure, then pity, then embrace. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 3416. VICE. Fascination of 
 
 Ah, Vice ! how soft are thy voluptuous ways ! 
 While boyish blood is mantling, who can ’scape 
 The fascination of thy magic gaze ? 
 
 A cherub-hydra round us dost thou gape, 
 
 And mould to every taste thy dear devulsive shape. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 3417. VICE. Infamy of 
 
 Not all that heralds raked from coffin’d clay. 
 
 Nor florid prose, nor honied lies of rhyme, 
 
 Can blazon evil deeds, or consecrate a crime. 
 
 Byron. 
 
VICE 
 
 661 
 
 VIRTUE 
 
 3418. VICE : profitless. 
 
 WHAT if the sinner’s magazines are stored 
 With the rich spoils that Ophir’s mines afford ? 
 What if he spends his happy days and nights 
 In softest joys, and undisturb’d delights? 
 
 Where is his hope at last, when God shall wrest 
 His trembling soul from his reluctant breast ? 
 
 Blackmore. 
 
 3419. VICE. Punishment of 
 
 Ah ! from real happiness we stray, 
 
 By vice bewilder’d: vice, which always leads. 
 However fair at first, to wilds of woe. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 How awful is that hour, when conscience stings 
 The hoary wretch who on his death-bed hears. 
 Deep in his soul, the thundering voice that rings, 
 
 In one dark, damning moment, crimes of years. 
 And, screaming like a vulture in his ears, 
 
 Tells, one by one, his thoughts and deeds of shame ! 
 
 How wild the fury of his soul careers ! 
 
 His swart eye flashes with intensest flame, 
 
 And like the torture’s rack the wrestling of his frame. 
 
 Percival. 
 
 3420. VICE. Tyranny of 
 
 Oh, the dangerous siege 
 Sin lays about us ! And the tyranny 
 He exercises, .... 
 
 Like to the horror of a winter’s thunder. 
 
 Mix’d with a gushing storm, that suffers nothing 
 To stir abroad on earth but its own rages. 
 
 Is sin, when it hath gather’d head above us: 
 
 No roof, no shelter will secure us so, 
 
 But he will drown our cheeks in fear or woe. 
 
 Chapman. 
 
 3421. VICISSITUDE. 
 
 For what is it on earth, 
 
 Nay, under heaven, continues at a stay? 
 
 Ebbs not the sea, when it hath overflown ? 
 
 Follows not darkness when the day is gone ? 
 
 And see we not sometimes the eye of heaven 
 Dimm’d with o’er-flying clouds? There’s not that 
 work 
 
 Of careful nature, or of cunning art, 
 
 How strong, how beauteous, or how rich it be. 
 
 But falls in time to ruin.— Shakespeare. 
 
 3422. VICTORY. 
 
 ’TlS not victory to win the field, 
 
 Unless we make our enemies to yield 
 More to our justice than our force ; and so 
 As well instruct as overcome our foe. 
 
 Gomersall. 
 
 Plumed victory 
 
 Is truly painted with a cheerful look ; 
 Equally distant from proud insolence 
 And base dejection.— Massinger. 
 
 3423. VIRTUE : acceptable to God. 
 
 If there’s a Power above us 
 (And that there is, all nature cries aloud 
 Through all her works), He must delight in virtue : 
 And that which He delights in must be happy. 
 
 Addison. 
 
 3424. VIRTUE : a reality. 
 
 Fools into the notion fall 
 That vice or virtue there is none at all : 
 
 Ask your own heart, and nothing is so plain ; 
 ’Tis to mistake them costs the time and pain. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 3425. VIRTUE : a riddle. 
 
 How strange a riddle virtue is ! 
 
 They never miss it, who possess it not; 
 
 And they who have it ever find a want! 
 
 Lord Rochester. 
 
 3426. VIRTUE. Authority of 
 
 ‘ Has virtue charms ? ’—I grant her heavenly fair; 
 But if unportion’d all, will interest wed ; 
 
 Though that our admiration, this our choice. 
 
 The virtues grow on immortality ; 
 
 That root destroy’d, they wither and expire. 
 
 A Deity believed, will nought avail; 
 
 Rewards and punishments make God adored ; 
 
 And hopes and fears give conscience all her power. 
 As in the dying parent dies the child, 
 
 Virtue with immortality expires. 
 
 Who tells me he denies his soul immortal, 
 Whate’er his boast, has told me he’s a knave. 
 
 His duty ’tis to love himself alone ; 
 
 Nor care though mankind perish, if he smiles. 
 
 Who thinks ere long the man shall wholly die, 
 
 Is dead already ; nought but brute survives. 
 
 Young. 
 
 3427. VIRTUE. Courage of 
 
 Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Fearless he sees, who is with virtue crown’d, 
 
 The tempest rage, and hears the thunder sound ; 
 Ever the same, let fortune smile or frown : 
 Serenely as he lived resigns his breath, 
 
 Meets destiny half-way, nor shrinks at death. 
 
 Granville. 
 
VIRTUE 
 
 662 
 
 VIRTUE 
 
 3423. VIRTUE. Discipline of 
 
 The discipline of slavery is unknown 
 Among us, —hence the more do we require 
 The discipline of virtue ; order else 
 Cannot subsist, nor confidence, nor peace— 
 
 Thus duties rising out of good possest, 
 
 And prudent caution needful to avert 
 
 Impending evil, equally require 
 
 That the whole people should be taught and train’d. 
 
 So shall licentiousness and black resolve 
 
 Be rooted out, and virtuous habits take 
 
 Their place ; and genuine piety descend 
 
 Like an inheritance, from age to age. — Wordsworth. 
 
 0 
 
 3429. VIRTUE. Happiness of 
 
 Then, to be good is to be happy : angels 
 Are happier than mankind, because they’re better. 
 Guilt is the source of sorrow : ’tis the fiend, 
 
 The avenging fiend, that follows us behind 
 With whips and stings. The blest know none of 
 this; 
 
 But rest in everlasting peace of mind, 
 
 And find the height of all their heaven is goodness. 
 
 Rowe. 
 
 .Know then this truth (enough for man to know), 
 Virtue alone is happiness below. 
 
 The only point where human bliss stands still, 
 And tastes the good without the fall to ill.— Pope. 
 
 Count all the advantage prosperous vice attains, 
 
 ’Tis but what virtue flies from and disdains; 
 
 And grant the bad what happiness they would, 
 
 One they must want—which is, to pass for good.' 
 Oh, blind to truth and God’s whole scheme below. 
 Who fancy bliss to vice, to virtue woe ! 
 
 Who sees and follows that great scheme the best, 
 Best knows the blessing, and will most be blest. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Virtue, the strength and beauty of the soul, 
 
 Is the best gift of Heaven : a happiness 
 That even above the smiles and frowns of fate 
 Exalts great nature’s favourites ; a wealth 
 That ne’er encumbers, nor can be transferr’d. 
 
 Armstrong. 
 
 The heart, unalter’d in its mood, 
 
 That joys alone in doing good, 
 
 And follows in the heavenly road, 
 
 And steps where once an angel trod,— 
 
 The joys within such heart that burn, 
 
 No loss can quench, nor time o’ertum ! 
 
 The stars may from their orbits bend, 
 
 The mountains rock, the heavens rend. 
 
 The sun’s last ember cool and quiver,— 
 
 But virtue still shall glow for ever !— Hogg. 
 
 3430. VIRTUE : immortal. 
 
 Sweet day ! so cool, so calm, so bright, 
 
 The bridal of the earth and sky ; 
 
 The dews shall weep thy fall to-night; 
 
 For thou must die. 
 
 Sweet rose ! whose hue, angry and brave, 
 
 Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, 
 
 Thy root is ever in its grave ; 
 
 And thou must die. 
 
 Sweet spring ! full of sweet days and roses ; 
 
 A box where sweets compacted lie ; 
 
 Thy music shows ye have your closes ; 
 
 And all must die. 
 
 Only a sweet and virtuous soul, 
 
 Like season’d timber, never gives ; 
 
 But, though the whole world turn to coal, 
 Then chiefly lives.— Herbert. 
 
 The wintry blast of death 
 Kills not the buds of virtue ; no, they spread. 
 Beneath the heavenly beams of brighter suns. 
 Through endless ages, into higher powers. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 Pygmies are pygmies still, though perch’d on Alps; 
 And pyramids are pyramids in vales. 
 
 Each man makes his own stature, builds himself: 
 Virtue alone outbuilds the pyramids : 
 
 Her monuments shall last when Egypt’s fall. 
 
 Of these sure truths dost thou demand the cause ? 
 The cause is lodged in immortality.— Young. 
 
 3431. VIRTUE. Influence of 
 
 How far that little candle throws his beams ! 
 So shines a good deed in a naughty world. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 Virtue 
 
 Stands like the sun, and all which rolls around 
 Drinks life, and light, and glory from her aspect. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 3432. VIRTUE : invincible. 
 
 Virtue’s a solid rock, whereat being aim’d 
 The keenest darts of envy, yet unhurt 
 Her marble hero stands, built of such basis, 
 
 While they recoil and wound the shooter’s face. 
 
 . Beaumont. 
 
 Virtue may be assail’d, but never hurt; 
 
 Surprised by unjust force, but not enthrall’d ; 
 
 Yet even that which mischief meant most harm 
 Shall in the happy trial prove most glory. 
 
 Milton. 
 
663 
 
 VIRTUE 
 
 VIRTUE 
 
 3433 * VIRTUE : lengthens life. 
 
 Virtue, not rolling suns, the mind matures. 
 
 That life is long, which answers life’s great end. 
 The time that bears no fruit deserves no name. 
 The man of wisdom is the man of years.— Young. 
 
 3434. VIRTUE : loved by many merely for its 
 
 rewards. 
 
 They follow virtue for reward to-day ; 
 To-morrow vice, if she give better pay ; 
 
 We are so good, or bad, just at a price. 
 
 Nor nothing else discerns the virtue or the vice. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 3435. VIRTUE. Memory of 
 
 Virtue, like God, Whose excellent majesty, 
 
 Whose glory virtue is, is omnipresent. 
 
 No being, once created rational. 
 
 Accountable, endow’d with moral sense, 
 
 With sapience of right and wrong endow’d, 
 
 And charged, however fallen, debased, destroy’d ; 
 However lost, forlorn, and miserable ; 
 
 In guilt’s dark shrouding wrapt, however thick ; 
 However drunk, delirious, and mad, 
 
 With sin’s full cup ; and with whatever damn’d, 
 Unnatural diligence it work and toil, 
 
 Can banish virtue from its sight, or once 
 Forget that she is fair. Hides it in night, 
 
 In central night; takes it the lightning’s wing, 
 
 And flies for ever on, beyond the bounds 
 Of all; drinks it the maddest cup of sin ; 
 
 Dives it beneath the ocean of despair ; 
 
 It dives, it drinks, it flies, it hides in vain : 
 
 For still the eternal beauty, image fair, 
 
 Once stamp’d upon the soul, before the eye 
 All lovely stands, nor will depart ; so God 
 Ordains : and lovely to the worst she seems, 
 
 And ever seems ; and as they look, and still 
 Must ever look upon her loveliness, 
 
 Remembrance dire of what they were, of what 
 They might have been, and bitter sense of what 
 They are, polluted, ruin’d, hopeless, lost, 
 
 With most repenting torment rend their hearts. 
 
 So God ordains—their punishment severe, 
 
 Eternally inflicted by themselves. 
 
 ’Tis this—this virtue hovering evermore 
 Before the vision of the damn’d, and in 
 Upon their monstrous moral nakedness 
 Casting unwelcome light, that makes their woe, 
 That makes the essence of the endless flame : 
 Where this is, there is hell—darker than aught 
 That he, the bard three-vision’d, darkest saw. 
 
 Pollok. 
 
 3436. VIRTUE : misapplied. 
 
 Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied, 
 
 And vice sometimes by action’s dignified. 
 
 Shakespeare . 
 
 3437. VIRTUE : must be displayed in active life. 
 
 Thyself and thy belongings 
 Are not thine own so proper, as to waste 
 Thyself upon thy virtues, them on thee. 
 
 Heaven doth with us as we with torches do, 
 
 Not light them for themselves ; for if our virtues 
 Did not go forth of us, ’twere all alike 
 
 As if we had them not. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 3438. VIRTUE. Nobility of 
 
 He whose mind! 
 
 Is virtuous, is alone of noble kind ; 
 
 Though poor in fortune, of celestial race ; 
 
 And he commits the crime who calls him base. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 When our souls shall leave this dwelling, 
 
 The glory of one fair and virtuous action 
 Is above all the ’scutcheons on our tomb, 
 
 Or silken banners over us.— Shirley. 
 
 High worth is elevated place : ’tis more ; 
 
 It makes the past stand candidate for thee; 
 
 Makes more than monarchs, makes an honest man ; 
 Though no exchequer it commands, ’tis wealth ; 
 And though it wears no riband, ’tis renown ; 
 Renown that would not quit thee, though disgraced. 
 Nor leave thee pendent on a master’s smile. — Young. 
 
 3439. VIRTUE. Peace of 
 
 There is no peace in sinne: Hitemal warr 
 Doth rage ’mong vices. But all vertues are 
 Friends ’mong themselves, and choisest accents be 
 Harsh echoes of their heavenly liarmonie. 
 
 Habington. 
 
 The path to peace is virtue: what I show. 
 Thyself may freely on thyself bestow : 
 
 Fortune was never worshipp’d by the wise. 
 
 But, set aloft by fools, usurps the skies. 
 
 Dry den. 
 
 What, what is virtue but repose of mind, 
 
 A pure ethereal calm, that knows no storm ; 
 Above the reach of wild ambition’s wind, 
 
 Above the passions that this world deform, 
 
 And torture man, a proud malignant worm ? 
 
 Thomson. 
 
VIRTUE 
 
 664 
 
 VIRTUE 
 
 3440. VIRTUE. Pretended 
 
 How oft that virtue, which some women boast. 
 And pride themselves in, is but an empty name. 
 No real good ; ih thought alone possess’d. 
 
 Safe in the want of charms, the homely dame, 
 Secui'e from the seducing arts of man. 
 
 Deceives herself, and thinks she’s passing chaste; 
 Wonders how others e’er could fall, yet when 
 She talks most loud about the noisy nothing, 
 
 Look on her face, and there you read her virtue. 
 
 Frowcie. 
 
 3441. VIRTUE. Rewards of 
 
 I never did repent for doing good. 
 
 Nor shall not now.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Virtue is the roughest way, 
 
 But proves at night a bed of down.— Wotton. 
 
 Still in the paths of honour persevere. 
 
 And not from past nor present dls despair ; 
 
 For blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds, 
 
 And, though a late, a sure reward succeeds. 
 
 Congreve. 
 
 What nothing earthly gives, or can destroy. 
 
 The soul’s calm sunshine, and the heartfelt joy. 
 
 Is virtue’s prize ; a better would you fix? 
 
 Then give humility a coach and six, 
 
 Justice a conqueror’s sword, or truth a gown. 
 
 Or public spirit its great cure, a crown. 
 
 Weak, foolish man ! will Heaven reward us there 
 With the same trash mad mortals wish for here ? 
 The boy and man an individual makes, 
 
 Yet sigh’st thou now for apples and for cakes ? 
 
 Go like the Indian in another life, 
 
 Expect thy dog, thy bottle, and thy wife ; 
 
 As well as dreams such trifles are assign’d. 
 
 As toys and empires, for a god-like mind : 
 
 Rewards, that either would to virtue bring 
 No joy, or be destructive of the thing ; 
 
 How oft by these at sixty are undone 
 The virtues of a saint at twenty-one ! 
 
 To whom can riches give repute or trust, 
 
 Content or pleasure, but the good and just ? 
 
 Judges and senates have been bought for gold; 
 Esteem and love were never to be sold. 
 
 O fool ! to think God hates the worthy mind. 
 
 The lover and the love of humankind. 
 
 Whose life is healthful, and whose conscience clear, 
 Because he wants a thousand pounds a year.— Pope. 
 
 But sometimes virtue starves, while vice is fed ? 
 What then ? is the reward of virtue bread ? 
 
 That, vice may merit—’tis the price of toil ; 
 
 The knave deserves it, when he tills the soil; 
 
 The knave deserves it, when he tempts the main, . 
 Where folly fights for kings, or dives for gain. 
 
 The good man may be weak, be indolent, 
 
 Nor is his claim to plenty, but content. 
 
 But grant him riches, your demand is o’er ? 
 
 No—shall the good want health, the good want 
 power ? 
 
 Add health and power, and every earthly thing. 
 Why bounded power ? why private ? why no king 
 Nay, why external for internal given ? 
 
 Why is not man a God, and earth a heaven ? 
 
 Who ask and reason thus, will scarce conceive 
 God gives enough, while He has more to give ; 
 Immense the power, immense were the demand ; 
 Say, at what part of nature will they stand?— Pope. 
 
 Are domestic comforts dead ? 
 
 Are all the nameless sweets of friendship fled ? 
 
 Has time worn out, or fashion put to shame. 
 
 Good sense, good health, good conscience, and good 
 fame ? 
 
 All these belong to virtue, and all prove 
 That virtue has a title to your love. — Coivper. 
 
 I saw the virtuous man contend 
 With life’s unnumber’d woes ; 
 
 And he was poor—without a friend, 
 
 Press’d by a thousand foes. 
 
 I saw the passions’ pliant slave 
 In gallant trim, and gay ; 
 
 His course was pleasure’s placid w T ave, 
 
 His life a summer’s day. 
 
 And I was caught in folly’s snare, 
 
 And join’d her giddy train, 
 
 But found her soon the nurse of care, 
 
 And punishment, and pain. 
 
 There surely is some guiding power 
 Which rightly suffers wrong, 
 
 Gives vice to bloom its little hour, 
 
 But virtue late and long.— Camoens „ 
 
 3442. VIRTUE. Safety of 
 
 Thou sail’st with others in this Argus here, 
 
 Nor wrack or bulging thou hast cause to fear ; 
 But trust to this, my noble passenger: 
 
 Who swims with virtue, he shall still be sure, 
 Ulysses-like, all tempests to endure, 
 
 And ’midst a thousand gulfs to be secure. 
 
 Herrick , 
 
 3443. VIRTUE : scorned. 
 
 Virtue ! how many as a lowly thing, 
 
 Born of weak folly, scorn thee ! but thy name 
 
VIRTUE 
 
 665 
 
 VOICE 
 
 Alone they know ; upon thy soaring wing 
 
 They’d fear to mount; nor could thy sacred flame 
 
 Burn in their baser hearts: the biting thorn, 
 
 The flinty crag, flowers hiding, strew thy field : 
 
 Yet blest is he whose daring hides the scorn 
 
 Of the frail, easy herd, and buckles on thy shield. 
 
 Who says thy ways are bliss, trolls but a lay 
 To lure the infant: if thy paths to view 
 Were always pleasant, Crime’s worst sons would lay 
 Their daggers at thy feet, and, from mere sloth, 
 pursue.— Mana Brooks. 
 
 3444. VIRTUE: tempted. 
 
 Virtue which breaks through opposition, 
 
 And all temptations can remove, 
 
 Most shines, and most is acceptable above. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 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. 
 
 3445. VIRTUE : the basis of national prosperity 
 
 and glory. 
 
 All private virtue is the public fund : 
 
 As that abounds, the state decays or thrives : 
 
 Each should contribute to the general stock, 
 
 And who lends most, is most his country’s friend. 
 
 Jephson. 
 
 All true glory rests, 
 
 All praise of safety, and all happiness, 
 
 Upon the moral law. Egyptian Thebes; 
 
 Tyre by the margin of the sounding waves; 
 
 Palmyra central in the desert, fell! 
 
 And the arts died by which they had been raised. 
 Call Archimedes from his buried tomb 
 Upon the plains of vanish’d Syracuse ; 
 
 And feelingly the sage shall make report 
 How insecure, how baseless in itself 
 Is that philosophy whose sway is framed 
 For mere material instruments, how weak 
 Those arts and high inventions, if unpropp’d 
 By virtue. — Wordsworth. 
 
 3446. VIRTUE: world-wide. 
 
 Thou know’st but little, Zaphna, 
 
 If thou dost think true virtue is confined 
 To climes or systems ; no, it flows spontaneous. 
 Like life’s warm stream, throughout the whole crea 
 tion, 
 
 And beats the pulse of every healthful heart. 
 
 Miller. 
 
 3447. VIRTUES. 
 
 Our virtues 
 
 Would be proud if our faults whipt them not; and 
 Our crimes would despair if they were not 
 Cherish’d by our virtues.— Shakespeare. 
 
 As fruits ungrateful to the planter’s care, 
 
 On savage stocks inserted, learn to bear ; 
 
 The surest virtues thus from passions shoot. 
 
 Wild nature’s vigour working at the root. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 3448. VIRTUOUS ENDS. 
 
 Be virtuous ends pursued by virtuous means. 
 
 Nor think the intention sanctifies the deed : 
 
 That maxim publish’d in an impious age 
 Would loose the wild enthusiast to destroy. 
 
 And fix the fierce usurper’s bloody title. 
 
 Then bigotry might send her slaves to war. 
 
 And bid success become the test of truth ! 
 Unpitying massacre might waste the world. 
 
 And persecution boast the call of Heaven. 
 
 Johnson. 
 
 3449. VIRTUOUS IMPULSES. 
 
 A virtuous deed should never be delay’d, 
 
 The impulse comes from heaven, and he who strives 
 A moment to repress it, disobeys 
 The god within his mind.— Dos.ue. 
 
 3450. VOICE. The Shepherd’s 
 
 It is Thy voice that floats above the din, 
 
 Clear as a silver bell: 
 
 We hear Thee, Saviour, through the strife of sin. 
 
 Thy servants heed Thee well; 
 
 Beyond all others, through the upper air 
 That voice comes pure and sweet, 
 
 Like chimes, that from a steeple tall and fair, 
 
 Break o’er the clamorous street. 
 
 Not all, O Lord, may walk erect, and know 
 The music of that sound ; 
 
 Some cannot hear Thee till their heads are low. 
 
 Ay, level with the ground ! 
 
 And yet, for them, heart-humbled and alone, 
 
 Spurn’d as the crowds go by, 
 
 There is a power in the royal tone 
 To set them up on high. 
 
 Thy sheep shall hear Thy voice—on plain or hill. 
 Through flood or wilderness, 
 
 In the green pastures, by the waters still, 
 
 In joy, or sharp distress, 
 
 Thy call will reach them—sometimes loud and near. 
 Then faint and far away; 
 
VOICE 
 
 666 
 
 WAITING 
 
 \ 
 
 O Thou, Good Shepherd, grant that heart and ear 
 May listen and obey !— Sarah Dondney. 
 
 3451. VOICE. Woman’s 
 
 Her voice was ever soft, 
 
 Gentle and low ; an excellent thing in woman. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 3452. VOWS. Making 
 
 Said I not so—that I would sin no more? 
 
 Witness, my God, I did ; 
 
 Yet I am run again upon the score ; 
 
 My faults cannot be hid. 
 
 What shall I do ? Make vows and break them still ? 
 
 ’Twill be but labour lost; 
 
 My good cannot prevail against mine ill : 
 
 The business will be crost. 
 
 O, say not so ; thou canst not tell what strength 
 Thy God may give thee at the length. 
 
 Renew thy vows, and if thou keep the last, 
 
 Thy God will pardon all that’s past. 
 
 Vow while thou canst; while thou canst vow, thou 
 mayst 
 
 Perhaps perform it when thou thinkest least. 
 
 Thy God hath not denied thee all, 
 
 Whilst He permits thee but to call. 
 
 Call to thy God for grace to keep 
 Thy vows; and if thou break them, weep. 
 
 Weep for thy broken vows, and vow again, 
 
 Vows made with tears cannot be still in vain. 
 
 Then once again 
 I vow to mend my ways ; 
 
 Lord, say Amen, 
 
 And Thine be all the praise.— Herbert. 
 
 3453. VOYAGE. The last 
 
 There’s not an hour but from some sparkling beach 
 Go joyful men, in fragile ships, to sail 
 By unknown seas to unknown lands. They hail 
 The freshening winds with eager hope and speech 
 Of wondrous countries which they soon will reach. 
 Left on the shore, we wave our hands, with pale, 
 Wet cheeks, but hearts that are ashamed to quail 
 Or own the grief which selfishness would teach. 
 
 Oh ! Death, the fairest lands beyond thy sea 
 Lie waiting, and thy barks are swift and staunch 
 And ready. Why do we reluctant launch? 
 
 And when our friends their heritage have claim’d 
 Of thee and enter’d on it, rich and free, 
 
 Oh! why of sorrow are we not ashamed ? 
 
 Helen Hunt. 
 
 3454 * WAITING: enforced. 
 
 I WILL not dream in vain despair 
 The steps of progress wait for me: 
 
 The puny leverage of a hair 
 
 The planet’s impulse well may spare, 
 
 A drop of dew the tided sea. 
 
 O power to do ! O baffled will! 
 
 O prayer and action l ye are one. 
 
 Who may not strive, may yet fulfil 
 The harder task of standing still, 
 
 And good but wish’d with God is done ! 
 
 Whittier. 
 
 3455 - WAITING: how God waits. 
 
 Grand is the leisure of the earth ; 
 
 She gives her happy myriads birth, 
 
 And after harvest fears not dearth, 
 
 But goes to sleep in snow-wreaths dim. 
 Dread is the leisure up above, 
 
 The while He sits whose name is Love, 
 
 And waits, as Noah did the dove, 
 
 To see if she would fly to him. 
 
 He waits for us, -while, houseless things. 
 
 We beat about with bruised wings 
 On the dark floods and water-springs. 
 
 The ruin’d world, the desolated sea; 
 
 V ith open windows from the prime, 
 
 All night, all day, He waits sublime, 
 
 Until the fulness of the time 
 Decreed from His eternity .—Jean Ingelow. 
 
 3456. W r AITING : is sendee. 
 
 They also serve who only stand and wait. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 345 7 > V 7 AITING. Working and 
 
 A husbandman who many years 
 Had plough’d his fields and sown in tears. 
 Grew weary with his doubts and fears: 
 
 4 1 toil in vain ! these rocks and sands 
 Will yield no harvest to my hands ; 
 
 The best seeds rot in barren lands. 
 
 My drooping vine is withering ; 
 
 No promised grapes its blossoms bring ; 
 
 No birds among its branches sing. 
 
 My flock is dying on the plain ; 
 
 The heavens are brass—they yield no rain; 
 The earth is iron—I toil in vain ! ’ 
 
 W’hile yet he spake, a breath had stirr’d 
 His drooping vine, like wing of bird, 
 
 And from its leaves a voice he heard : 
 
 4 The germs and fruits of life must be 
 For ever hid in mystery, 
 
 Yet none can toil in vain for Me. 
 
WANTS 667 
 
 A mightier hand, more skill’d than thine, 
 Must hang the clusters on the vine, 
 
 And make the fields with harvest shine. 
 
 Man can but work; God can create: 
 
 But they who work, and watch, and wait, 
 Have their reward, though it come late. 
 
 Look up to heaven ! behold and hear 
 The clouds and thunderings in thy ear— 
 
 An answer to thy doubts and fear.’ 
 
 He look’d, and lo ! a cloud-draped car, 
 
 With trailing smoke and flames afar, 
 
 Was rushing from a distant star: 
 
 And every thirsty flock and plain 
 Was rising up to meet the rain 
 That came to clothe the fields with grain. 
 And on the clouds he saw again, 
 
 The covenant of God with men, 
 
 Re-written with His rainbow pen : 
 
 ‘ Seed-time and harvest shall not fail; 
 
 And though the gates of hell assail, 
 
 My truth and promise shall prevail.’ 
 
 3458. WANTS. Duplicity of 
 
 Little I ask ; my wants are few ; 
 
 I only wish a hut of stone 
 (A very plain brown stone will do). 
 
 That I may call my own ; 
 
 And close at hand is such a one, 
 
 In yonder street that fronts the sun. 
 
 Plain food is quite enough for me ; 
 
 Three courses are as good as ten ; 
 
 If nature can subsist on three, 
 
 Thank Heaven for three. Amen ! 
 
 I always thought cold victuals nice ; 
 
 My choice would be vanilla-ice. 
 
 I care not much for gold or land ; 
 
 Give me a mortgage here and there— 
 Some good bank-stock—some note of hand, 
 Or trifling railroad share ; 
 
 I only ask that Fortune send 
 A little more than I shall spend. 
 
 Honours are silly toys, I know, 
 
 And titles are but empty names ; 
 
 I would, perhaps, be Plenipo, 
 
 But only near St James ; 
 
 I’m very sure I should not care 
 To fill our Gubernator’s chair. 
 
 Jewels are baubles ; ’tis a sin 
 
 To care for such unfruitful things ! 
 
 One good-sized diamond in a pin— 
 
 Some, not so large, in rings— 
 
 A ruby and a pearl or so 
 
 Will do for me ;—I laugh at show. 
 
 WANTS 
 
 My dame should dress in cheap attire 
 (Good heavy silks are never dear); 
 
 I own perhaps I might desire 
 
 Some shawls of true Cashmere— 
 
 Some marrowy crapes of China silk, 
 
 Like wrinkled skins on scalded milk. 
 
 I would not have the horse I drive 
 
 So fast that folks must stop and stare ; 
 
 An easy gait—two forty-five— 
 
 Suits me ; I do not care ; 
 
 Perhaps for just a single spurt, 
 
 Some seconds less would do no hurt. 
 
 Of pictures, I should like to own 
 
 Titians and Raphaels three or four— 
 
 I love so much their style and tone— 
 
 One Turner, and no more, 
 
 (A landscape—foreground golden dirt— 
 
 The sunshine painted with a squir.t). 
 
 Of books but few—some fifty score 
 For daily use, and bound for wear ; 
 
 The rest upon an upper floor ;— 
 
 Some little luxury there 
 Of red morocco’s gilded gleam, 
 
 And vellum rich as country cream. 
 
 Busts, cameos, gems—such things as these. 
 Which others often show for pride, 
 
 / value for their power to please, 
 
 And selfish churls deride ;— 
 
 One Stradivarius, I confess, 
 
 Two Meerschaums, I would fain possess. 
 
 Wealth’s wasteful tricks I will not learn. 
 
 Nor ape the glittering upstart fool; 
 
 Shall not carved tables serve my turn. 
 
 But all must be of buhl ? 
 
 Give grasping pomp its double share— 
 
 I ask but one recumbent chair. 
 
 Thus humble let me live and die, 
 
 Nor long for Midas’ golden touch: 
 
 If Heaven more generous gifts deny, 
 
 I shall not miss them much — 
 
 Too grateful for the blessing lent 
 Of simple tastes and mind content ! 
 
 O. W. Holmes. 
 
 3459. WANTS. Human 
 
 ‘ Man wants but little here below, 
 
 Nor wants that little long.’ 
 
 7 Tis not with me exactly so; 
 
 But ’tis so in the song. 
 
 My wants are many, and, if told, 
 
 Would muster many a score ; 
 
 And were each wish a mint of gold, 
 
 I still should long for more. 
 
WANTS 
 
 668 
 
 WAR 
 
 What first I want is daily bread, 
 
 And roasted ducks, and wine, 
 
 And all the realms of nature spread 
 Before me, when I dine. 
 
 Four courses scarcely can provide 
 My appetite to quell; 
 
 With four choice cooks from France beside, ' 
 To dress my dinner well. 
 
 What next I want, at princely cost. 
 
 Is elegant attire: 
 
 Black sable furs for winter’s frost, 
 
 And silks for summer’s fire, 
 
 And Cashmere shawls, and Brussels lace 
 My bosom’s front to deck, 
 
 And diamond rings my hands to grace. 
 
 And rubies for my neck. 
 
 I want (who does not want?) a wife. 
 Affectionate and fair; 
 
 To solace all the woes of life, 
 
 And all its joys to share : 
 
 Of temper sweet, of yielding will. 
 
 Of firm, yet placid mind— 
 
 A\ ith all my faults to love me still 
 With sentiment refined. 
 
 And as Time’s car incessant runs. 
 
 And Fortune fills my store, 
 
 I want of daughters and of sons 
 From eight to half a score. 
 
 I want (alas ! can mortal dare 
 Such bliss on earth to crave ?) 
 
 That all the girls be chaste and fair. 
 
 The boys all wise and brave. 
 
 I want a warm and faithful friend. 
 
 To cheer the adverse hour; 
 
 Who ne’er to flatter will descend. 
 
 Nor bend the knee to power— 
 
 A friend to chide me when I’m wronm 
 My inmost soul to see; 
 
 And that my friendship prove as strong 
 For him as his for me. 
 
 I want the seals of power and place. 
 
 The ensigns of command ; 
 
 Charged by the people’s unbought grace 
 To rule my native land. 
 
 Nor crown nor sceptre would I ask 
 But from my country’s will, 
 
 By day, by night, to ply the task 
 Her cup of bliss to fill. 
 
 I want the voice of honest praise 
 To follow me behind, 
 
 And to be thought in future days 
 The friend of humankind ; 
 
 That after-ages, as they rise, 
 
 Exulting may proclaim 
 In choral union to the skies 
 Their blessings on my name. 
 
 These are the Wa?its of mortal Man — 
 
 I cannot want them long, 
 
 For life itself is but a span, 
 
 And earthly bliss—a song. 
 
 My last great Want —absorbing all— 
 
 Is, when beneath the sod, 
 
 And summon’d to my final call, 
 
 The Mercy of my God. 
 
 John Quincy Adams. 
 
 3460. WAR. Benefit of 
 
 But, as I mused, there crowded on my spirit 
 The lofty virtues nursed in strife ; the will 
 That breaks but bends not; goodness even in death 
 Abhorring evil; right defying wrong ; 
 
 The stern self-sacrifice of souls afire 
 For perill’d altars, and for hearths profaned ; 
 
 The generous chivalry, which shields the weak, 
 
 And dares the oppressor’s worst; love guarding love 
 From rapine, or, as God’s executor. 
 
 Dealing forth vengeance on the stubborn foe, 
 
 And mercy to the vanquish’d ; all along 
 The ages, names the noblest and the best, 
 
 From Israel’s chief to those brave men whose swords 
 Have been the bulwark of my native isle. 
 
 Bickersteth. 
 
 3461. WAR. Causes of 
 
 Some seek diversion in the tented field, 
 
 And make the sorrows of mankind their sport. 
 
 But war’s a game which, were their subjects wise, 
 Kings should not play at.— Confer. 
 
 Lands intersected by a narrow frith 
 Abhor each other. Mountains interposed 
 Make enemies of nations who had else 
 Like kindred drops been mingled into one. 
 
 Confer. 
 
 In every heart 
 
 Are sown the sparks that kindle fiery war. 
 
 Occasion needs but fan them, and they blaze. 
 
 Cowfer. 
 
 3462. WAR. Clamour for 
 
 Secure from actual warfare, we have loved 
 To swell the war-whoop, passionate for war ! 
 
 Alas ! for ages ignorant of all 
 
 Its ghastlier workings, famine, or blue plague, 
 
 Battle or siege, or flight through wintry snows, 
 
 I We, this whole people, have been clamorous 
 
WAR 
 
 669 
 
 WAR 
 
 For war and bloodshed ; animating sports, 
 
 The which we pay for as a thing to talk of; 
 Spectators and not combatants ! No guess 
 Anticipative of a wrong unfelt, 
 
 No speculation or contingency, 
 
 However dim and vague, too vague and dim 
 To yield a justifying cause ; and forth, 
 
 Stuff’d out with big preamble, holy names 
 And adjurations of the God in heaven, 
 
 We send our mandates for the certain death 
 Of thousands and ten thousands ! Boys and girls, 
 And women that would groan to see a child 
 Pull off an insect’s leg, all read of war, 
 
 The best amusement for our morning’s meal! 
 
 The poor wretch who has learnt his only prayer 
 From curses, who knows scarcely words enough 
 To ask a blessing from his heavenly Father, 
 
 Becomes a fluent phraseman, absolute 
 And technical in victories and defeats, 
 
 And all our dainty terms for fratricide ; 
 
 Terms which we trundle smoothly o’er our tongues 
 Like mere abstractions, empty sounds, to which 
 We join no feeling, and attach no form ! 
 
 As if the soldier died without a wound; 
 
 As if the fibres of this godlike frame 
 Were gored without a pang ; as if the wretch 
 Who fell in battle, doing bloody deeds, 
 
 Pass’d off to heaven, translated, and not kill’d ; 
 
 As though he had no wife to pine for him, 
 
 No God to judge him.— Coleridge. 
 
 3463. WAR. Cruelty of 
 
 Is death more cruel from a private dagger 
 Than in the field, from murdering swords of thou¬ 
 sands ? 
 
 Or does the number slain make slaughter glorious ? 
 
 Cibber. 
 
 3464. WAR. Debasing influence of 
 
 How like a fiend may man be made, 
 
 Plying the foul and monstrous trade 
 Whose harvest-field is human life, 
 
 Whose sickle is the reeking sword ! 
 
 Quenching, with reckless hands, in blood, 
 Sparks kindled by the breath of God. 
 
 Whittier. 
 
 O, war is cruel-hearted ! ay, the man 
 That in the private walks of life was kind, 
 
 Even to the nursing mother’s tender fears;— 
 
 Who started at a funeral knell, and jvalk’d, 
 
 With slow, sad step, and sympathizing eye, 
 
 When the hearse pass’d with one he never knew ;— 
 Why he, when war’s stern strength is on his soul, 
 Will walk in apathy o’er slaughter’d friends, 
 
 Counting the dead and dying, as their loss 
 Was all computed in the numbers slain. < 
 
 Mrs Hale. 
 
 3465. WAR. Defensive 
 
 War is honourable 
 
 In those who do their native rights maintain ; 
 
 In those whose swords an iron barrier are 
 Between the lawless spoiler and the weak ; 
 
 But is in those who draw the offensive blade 
 For added power or gain, sordid and despicable 
 As meanest office of the worldly churl. 
 
 Joanna Bail lie. 
 
 3466. WAR. Desolation of 
 
 The autumnal rains had beaten to the earth 
 The unreap’d harvest, from the village church 
 No eve-song bell was heard, the shepherd’s dog 
 Prey’d on the scatter’d flock, for there was now 
 No hand to feed him, and upon the hearth, ' 
 Where he had slumber’d at his master’s feet, 
 
 The rank weed flourish’d.— Southey. 
 
 3467. WAR. Hatefulness of 
 
 No blood-stain’d victor)', in story bright, 
 
 Can give the philosophic mind delight; 
 
 Nor triumph please, while rage and death destroy: 
 Reflection sickens at the monstrous joy.— Bloomfield. 
 
 3468. WAR. Horrors of 
 
 All that the mind would shrink from of excesses ; 
 
 All that the body perpetrates of bad ; 
 
 All that we read, hear, dream of man’s distresses ; 
 
 All that the devil would do if run stark mad ; 
 
 All that defies the worst which pen expresses; 
 
 All by which hell is peopled, or as sad 
 As hell—mere mortals who their power abuse,— 
 Was here (as heretofore and since) let loose. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 I own my natural weakness ; I have not 
 Yet learn’d to think of indiscriminate murder 
 Without some sense of shuddering ; and the sight 
 Of blood which spouts through hoary scalps is not 
 To me a thing of triumph, nor the death 
 Of men surprised, a glory.— Byron. 
 
 Avaunt thee, horrid War : whose miasms, bred 
 Of nether darkness and Tartarean swamps, 
 
 Float o’er this fallen world, and blight the flowers. 
 Sole relics of a ruin’d Eden ! Hence, 
 
 With all thy cruel ravages ! fair homes 
 Rifled for thee of husband, brother, son ; 
 
 Wild passions slipp’d like hell-hounds in the heart. 
 And baying in full cry for blood ; the shock 
 
WAR 
 
 670 
 
 WAR 
 
 Of battle ; the quick throes of dying men ; 
 
 The ghastly stillness of the mangled dead ; 
 
 The crumbling ramparts breach’d, the city storm’d, 
 The massacre of unresisting age, 
 
 The shrieks of violated innocence, 
 
 And bloom, almost too delicate for the print 
 Of bridal kisses and the touch of love, 
 
 Ruthlessly trampled underneath the heel 
 Of armed lust ; and, pitiful to see, 
 
 The mother’s womb ripp’d by the pitiless sword, 
 And life—her unborn offspring’s and her own— 
 Shed in short mortal travail; lurid flames, 
 Wrapping the toils of arduous centuries 
 And hopes of ages in one funeral pyre ; 
 
 Gaunt famine after, and remorseless plague, 
 Reaping their myriads where the warrior’s scythe 
 TIad been content with thousands ; leaving scars 
 Upon a nation’s heart, which never time 
 Wholly can heal: hence horrid, horrid War ! 
 
 Bickersteth. 
 
 3469. WAR. Irreligiousness of 
 
 Of all the murderous trades by mortals plied, 
 
 ’Tis war alone that never violates 
 The hallow’d day by simulate respect— 
 
 By hypocritic rest; no, no, the work proceeds. 
 From sacred pinnacles are hung the flags 
 That give the sign to slip the leash for slaughter. 
 The bells whose knoll a holy calmness pour’d 
 Into the good man’s breast, whose sound consoled 
 The sick, the poor, the old—perversion dire ! 
 Pealing with sulphurous tongue, speak death-fraught 
 words. 
 
 From morn to eve destruction revels frenzied, 
 
 Till at the hour when peaceful vesper chimes 
 Were wont to soothe the air, the trumpet sounds 
 Pursuit, and flight altern ; and for the song 
 Of larks descending to their grass-bower’d homes, 
 The croak of flesh-gorged ravens, as they slake 
 Their thirst in hoof-prints filled with gore, disturbs 
 The stupor of the dying man ; while death 
 Triumphantly sails down the ensanguined stream, 
 On corses throned, and crown’d with shiver’d 
 boughs, 
 
 That erst hung imaged in the crystal tide. 
 
 Grahame. 
 
 3470. WAR : is murder. 
 
 One to destroy is murder by the law, 
 
 And gibbets keep the lifted hand in awe; 
 do murder thousands takes a specious name,— 
 War’s glorious art,—and gives immortal fame. 
 
 Young. 
 
 -Rash, fruitless war, from wanton glory waged, 
 
 Is only splendid murder.— Thomson. 
 
 3471. WAR : necessary. 
 
 War must be 
 
 While men are what they are ; while they have bad 
 Passions to be roused up ; while ruled by men ; 
 While all the powers and treasures of a land 
 Are at the beck of the ambitious crowd ; 
 
 While injuries can be inflicted, or 
 
 Insults be offer’d; yea, while rights are worth 
 
 Maintaining, freedom keeping, or life having. 
 
 So long the sword shall shine ; so long shall war 
 Continue, and the need of war remain.— Bailey. 
 
 3472. WAR. Picture of 
 
 Ah ! W'hence yon glare 
 
 That fires the arch of heaven ? that dark-red smoke 
 Blotting the silver moon? The stars are quench'd 
 In darkness, and the pure and spangling snow 
 Gleams faintly through the gloom that gathers round! 
 Hark to that roar, whose swift and deafening peals 
 In countless echoes through the mountains ring. 
 Startling pale midnight on her starry throne ! 
 
 Now swells the intermingling din : the jar, 
 
 Frequent and frightful, of the bursting bomb, 
 
 The falling beam, the shriek, the groan, the shout, 
 The ceaseless clangour, and the rush of men 
 Inebriate with rage ! Loud and more loud 
 The discord grows ; till pale death shuts the scene. 
 And o’er the conqueror and the conquer’d draws 
 His cold and bloody shroud ! 
 
 # 
 
 The sulphurous smoke 
 Before the icy wind slow rolls away, 
 
 And the bright beams of frosty morning dance 
 Along the spangling snow. There tracks of blood, 
 Even to the forest’s depth, and scatter’d arms, 
 
 And lifeless warriors, whose hard lineaments 
 Death’s self could change not, mark the dreadful 
 path 
 
 Of the out-sallying victors : far behind 
 Black ashes note where their proud city stood. 
 Within yon forest is a gloomy glen ; 
 
 Each tree, which guards its darkness from the day, 
 Waves o’er a warrior’s tomb !— Shelley. 
 
 3473 - WAR. Scourge of 
 
 O WAR ! begot in pride and luxury, 
 
 The child of malice and revengeful hate; 
 
 Thou impious good, and good impiety ! 
 
 " Thou art the foul refiner of a state, 
 
 The unjust scourge of men’s iniquity, 
 
 Sharp easer of corruptions desperate ! 
 
 Is there no means but that a sin-s'ick land 
 Must be let blood with such a boisterous hand ? 
 
 Daniel. 
 
WAR 
 
 671 
 
 WARS 
 
 O war !—what, what art thou ? 
 
 At once the proof and scourge of man’s fall’n state ! 
 After the brightest conquest, what appears 
 Of all thy glories ? for the vanquish’d, chains ! 
 
 For the proud victors, what ? alas ! to reign 
 O’er desolated nations !— Hamiah More. 
 
 3474. WAR. Shamefulness of 
 
 O, shame to men ! devil with devil damn’d 
 Firm concord holds, men only disagree 
 Of creatures rational, though under hope 
 Of heavenly grace, and God proclaiming peace, 
 Yet live in hatred, enmity, and strife 
 Among themselves, and levy cruel wars, 
 
 Wasting the earth, each other to destroy; 
 
 As if (which might induce us to accord) 
 
 Man had not hellish foes enough besides, 
 
 That day and night for his destruction wait. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 3475. WAR. Tug of 
 
 When Greek meets Greek, then comes the tug of 
 war.— Lee. 
 
 3476. WAR. Tumult of 
 
 I hate that drum’s discordant sound, 
 
 Parading round, and round, and round : 
 
 To thoughtless youth it pleasure yields. 
 
 And lures from cities and from fields. 
 
 To sell their liberty for charms 
 Of tawdry lace and glittering arms, 
 
 And, when ambition’s voice commands, 
 
 To march, and fight, and fall in foreign lands. 
 
 I hate that drum’s discordant sound, 
 
 Parading round, and round, and round : 
 
 To me it talks of ravaged plains, 
 
 And burning towns, and ruin’d swains. 
 
 And mangled limbs, and dying groans, 
 
 And widows’ tears, and orphans’ moans, 
 
 And all that misery’s hand bestows, 
 
 To fill the catalogue of human woes. 
 
 John Scott. 
 
 The tumult of each sack’d and burning village, 
 
 The shout that every prayer for mercy drowns. 
 The soldier’s revels in the midst of pillage, 
 
 The wail of famine in beleaguer’d towns; 
 
 The bursting shell, the gateway wrench’d asunder. 
 The rattling musketry, the clashing blade. 
 
 And ever and anon, in tones of thunder, 
 
 The diapason of the cannonade. 
 
 Is it, O man, with such discordant noises. 
 
 With such accursed instruments as these. 
 
 Thou drownest Nature’s sweet and kindly voices. 
 And jarrest the celestial harmonies? 
 
 Were half the power that fills the world with terror. 
 Were half the wealth bestow’d on camps and 
 courts, 
 
 Given to redeem the human mind from error. 
 
 There were no need of arsenals nor forts : 
 
 The warrior’s name would be a name abhorred ! 
 
 And every nation that should lift again 
 Its hand against a brother, on its forehead 
 Would wear for evermore the curse of Cain ! 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 3477. WARRIORS. 
 
 Woe worth the man 
 
 That first did teach the cursed steel to bite 
 
 In his own flesh, and make way to the living spirit- 
 
 Spenser. 
 
 I hate these potent madmen, who keep all 
 Mankind awake, while they by their great deeds 
 Are drumming hard upon this hollow world, 
 
 Only to make a sound to last for ages. — Crowne. 
 
 But let eternal infamy pursue 
 
 The wretch to nought but his ambition true, 
 
 Who, for the sake of filling with one blast 
 The post-horns of all Europe, lays her waste. 
 
 Cowpcr. 
 
 Ah, monarchs ! could ye taste the mirth ye mar, 
 
 Not in the toils of glory would ye fret; 
 
 The hoarse, dull drum would sleep, and man be 
 happy yet!— Byron. 
 
 3478. WARS. Christian 
 
 But what most show’d the vanity of life, 
 
 Was to behold the nations all on fire, 
 
 In cruel broils engaged, and deadly strife : 
 
 Most Christian kings, inflamed by black desire, 
 With honourable ruffians in their hire, 
 
 Cause war to rage, and blood around to pour; 
 
 Of this sad work when each begins to tire, 
 
 They sit them down just where they were before, 
 
 Till for new scenes of woe, peace shall their force 
 restore.— Thomson. 
 
 3479. WARS. Rash 
 
 To broach a war, and not to be assured 
 Of certain means to make a fair defence, 
 Howe’er the ground be just, may justly seem 
 A wilful madness.— Hemmings. 
 
WA TCHFULNESS 
 
 672 
 
 WEALTH 
 
 3480. WATCHFULNESS. Duty of 
 
 Shall we grow weary in our watch, 
 
 And murmur at the long delay, 
 
 Impatient of our Father’s time, 
 
 And His appointed way ? 
 
 Alas ! a deeper test of faith, 
 
 Than prison cell or martyr’s stake, 
 
 The self-abasing watchfulness 
 Of silent prayer may make ! 
 
 We gird us bravely to rebuke 
 Our erring brother in the wrong ; 
 
 And in the ear of pride and power 
 Our warning voice is strong. 
 
 Easier to smite with Peter’s sword, 
 
 Than ‘ watch one hour ’ in humbling prayer : 
 Life’s ‘great things,’ like the Syrian lord, 
 
 Our hearts can do and dare. 
 
 But, oh ! we shrink from Jordan’s side— 
 
 From waters which alone can save, 
 
 And murmur for Abana’s banks, 
 
 And PharpaPs brighter wave ! 
 
 O Thou who in the garden’s shade 
 Didst wake Thy weary ones again, 
 
 Who slumber’d at that fearful hour, 
 
 Forgetful of Thy pain— 
 
 Bend o’er us now, as over them. 
 
 And set our sleep-bound spirits free ; 
 
 Nor leave us slumbering in the watch 
 
 Our souls should keep with Thee !— Whittier. 
 
 O watch and pray ! for thou hast foes to fight, 
 
 Foes which alone thou canst not overcome ; 
 
 \\ atching and prayer will keep thine armour bright, 
 Soon will thy toils be o’er, thy victory won. 
 
 O watch and pray ! the Judge is at the door, 
 
 Before His flaming bar thou soon must stand; 
 
 O watch ! and keep thy garments spotless pure, 
 
 And thou shalt then be found at His right hand. 
 
 3481. WATCHFULNESS. Need of 
 
 Watch, for the time is short; 
 
 Watch, while ’tis call’d to-day; 
 
 "\\ atch, lest temptations overcome ; 
 
 Watch, Christian, watch and pray ! 
 
 Watch, for the flesh is weak ; 
 
 Watch, for the foe is strong ; 
 
 W atch, lest the Bridegroom knock in vain ; 
 Watch, though He tarry long ! 
 
 Chase slumber from thine eyes ; 
 
 Chase doubting from thy breast; 
 
 Thine is the promised prize 
 Of heaven’s eternal rest. 
 
 Watch, Christian, watch and pray ; 
 
 Thy Saviour watch’d for thee, 
 
 Till from His brow the blood-sweat pour’d, 
 Great drops of agony. 
 
 Take Jesus for thy trust; 
 
 Watch, watch for evermore ; 
 
 Watch, for thou soon must sleep 
 With thousands gone before. 
 
 Now, when thy sun is up, 
 
 Now, while ’tis call’d to-day, 
 
 O now, in thine accepted time, 
 
 Watch, Christian, watch and pray ! 
 
 3482. WEAK. Comfort for the 
 
 And sometimes in my house of grief 
 For moments, I have come to stand 
 Where, in the sorrows on me laid, 
 
 I felt the chastening of God’s hand ; 
 
 Then learn’d I that the weakest ones 
 Are kept securest from life’s harms ; 
 
 And that the tender lambs alone 
 Are carried in the shepherd’s arms. 
 
 Phoebe Carey. 
 
 3483* WEAKNESS : no excuse for idleness. 
 
 What if the little rain should say, 
 
 1 So small a drop as I 
 Can ne’er refresh those thirsty fields ; 
 
 I’ll tarry in the sky ’ ? 
 
 What if a shining beam of noon 
 Should in its fountain stay, 
 
 Because its feeble light alone 
 Cannot create a day? 
 
 Doth not each raindrop help to form 
 The cool, refreshing shower ; 
 
 And every ray of light to warm 
 And beautify the flower ? 
 
 3484. WEALTH : diffused. 
 
 Wealth in the gross is death, but life diffused; 
 As poison heals, in just proportions used ; 
 
 In heaps, like ambergris, a sink it lies, 
 
 And well dispersed is incense to the skies.— Pope.' 
 
 3485. WEALTH : does not confer greatness. 
 
 Mylo, forbear to call him blest 
 1 That only boasts a large estate, 
 
 Should all the treasures of the west 
 Meet, and conspire to make him great. 
 
WEALTH 
 
 67 3 
 
 WEARY 
 
 I know thy better thoughts ; I know 
 Thy reason can’t descend so lo\£ 
 
 Let a broad stream with golden sands 
 Through all his meadows roll, 
 
 He’s but a wretch, with all his lands, 
 
 That wears a narrow soul.— Watts. 
 
 3486. WEALTH : does not secure happiness. 
 
 Can wealth give happiness ? look round and see 
 What gay distress ! what splendid misery ! 
 Whatever fortune lavishly can pour, 
 
 The mind annihilates, and calls for more. 
 
 Young. 
 
 3487. WEALTH. Folly of pride in 
 
 Can riches keep the mortal wretch from death . 
 Or can new treasures purchase a new breath ? 
 Or does heaven send its love and mercy more 
 To Mammon’s pamper’d sons than to the poor? 
 If not, why should the fool take so much state, 
 Exalt himself and others under-rate ? 
 
 ’Tis senseless ignorance, that soothes his pride, 
 And makes him laugh at all the world beside. 
 
 Tom Brown. 
 
 3488. WEALTH. Hardening influence of 
 
 Unto a singer at the city gates 
 
 An angel from the courts of Heaven sped. 
 
 ‘ Long hast thou quarrell’d with the cruel fates, 
 With winning voice the pitying angel said. 
 
 * Go prove thy heart with riches and renown. 
 
 Thou hast them both ? ’ The angel disappear’d. 
 Bewilder’d then the singer sought the town. 
 
 Men lowly bow’d to him as one they fear d. 
 There at the gates, where he was wont to sing, 
 The angel’s words had made the singer king ! 
 With riches and renown the singer sweet 
 Stood at his window, looking down the street. 
 Rich purple vestments on his person hung, 
 
 While at the gates another singer sung. 
 
 
 
 With tearful eyes unto the king the bard 
 
 Look’d up for alms ; but all in vain he pled. 
 
 4 Sing those who must. Let those who may reward. 
 
 The world is wide,’ the haughty monarch said. 
 Then, as the singer sadly left the place, 
 
 Too late, he recognized the angel’s face ! 
 
 L. C. Strong. 
 
 3489. WEALTH. Household 
 
 Thank God for little children : 
 
 When our skies are cold and grey, 
 They fling a sunshine o’er our hearts. 
 And charm our cares away. 
 
 I almost think the angels, 
 
 Who tend life’s gardens fair, 
 
 Drop down the sweet wild blossoms 
 That bloom around us here. 
 
 It seems a breath of heaven 
 Round many a cradle lies, 
 
 And every little baby 
 
 Brings a blessing from the skies. 
 
 Dear mothers, guard these jewels. 
 
 As sacred offerings meet, 
 
 A wealth of household treasures, 
 
 To lay at Jesu’s feet. 
 
 3490. WEALTH. Independence of 
 
 When wealthy, show thy wisdom not to be 
 To wealth a servant, but make wealth serve thee. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 I feel no care of coin ; 
 
 Well-doing is my wealth ; 
 
 My mind to me an empire is, 
 
 While grace affordeth health.— Southwell. 
 
 Glittering stones, and golden things, 
 
 Wealth and honours that have wings, 
 
 Ever fluttering to be gone, 
 
 I could never call my own : 
 
 Riches that the world bestows, 
 
 She can take, and I can lose : 
 
 But the treasures that are mine 
 Lie afar beyond her line. 
 
 When I view my spacious soul. 
 
 And survey myself a whole, 
 
 And enjoy myself alone, 
 
 I’m a kingdom of my own.— Watts. 
 
 3491. WEARY. Encouragement for the 
 
 ‘ Be not weary,’ toiling Christian, 
 
 Good the Master thou dost serve ; 
 
 Let no disappointment move thee. 
 
 From thy service never swerve : 
 
 Sow in hope, nor cease thy sowing ; 
 
 Lack not patience, faith, or prayer ; 
 Seed-time passeth,—harvest hasteneth,— 
 Precious sheaves thou then shalt bear. 
 
 * Be not weary, ’ praying Christian, 
 
 Open is thy Father’s ear 
 To the fervent supplication, 
 
 And the agonizing prayer : 
 
 Prayer the Holy Ghost begetteth, 
 
 Be it words, or groans, or tears, 
 
 Is the prayer that’s always answer’d ; 
 
 Banish then thy doubts and fears. 
 
 43 
 
WEARY 
 
 67 4 
 
 WICKEDNESS 
 
 ‘Be not weary,’ suffering Christian, 
 
 Scourged is each adopted child, 
 
 Else would grow, in sad profusion, 
 
 Nature’s fruit, perverse and wild ; 
 Chastening’s needful for the spirit, 
 
 Though ’tis painful for the flesh ; 
 
 God designs a blessing for thee ;— 
 
 Let this thought thy soul refresh. 
 
 ‘Be not weary,’ tempted Christian, 
 
 Sin can only lure on earth ; 
 
 Faith is tried by sore temptation ; 
 
 ’Tis the furnace proves its worth : 
 
 Bounds are set unto the tempter, 
 
 Which beyond he cannot go ; 
 
 Battle on, on God relying, 
 
 Faith will overcome the foe. 
 
 ‘Be not weary,’ weeping Christian, 
 
 Tears endure but for the night, 
 
 Joy, deep joy thy spirit greeting. 
 
 Will return with morning’s light : 
 
 Every tear thou shedd’st is number’d 
 In the register above ; 
 
 Heaven is tearless , sweet the prospect,— 
 Sighless, tearless land of love ! 
 
 3492. WEARY. Invitation to the 
 
 Poor worldling ! stay thy vain pursuit of peace 
 In empty vanities : no good can live 
 In all the gilded charms that mock thee : cease 
 Thy hold on these ; loose eveiy cord, and hear 
 The voice of God : ‘ Come, ye that weary are! 
 
 Ye heavy-laden, come, and I will give 
 You rest.’ O, heed that call! in holy fear, 
 
 In deep humility, bow down : the star 
 Of hope shall rise, and joy shall speak thy soul’s re¬ 
 lease. — Shepard. 
 
 3493. WEEPING. 
 
 There was a time 
 
 --her cries and sorrows 
 
 Were not despised ; when, if she chanced to sigh, 
 Or but look sad, a friend or parent 
 Would have ta’en her in his arms, 
 
 Eased her declining head upon his breast, 
 
 And never left her till he found the cause : 
 
 But now, let her weep seas, 
 
 Cry till she rend the earth, sigh till she burst 
 Her heart asunder, she is disregarded.— Otway. 
 
 Thus weeping urges weeping on ; 
 
 In vain our miseries hope relief; 
 
 For one drop calls another down, 
 
 Till we are drown’d in seas of grief. 
 
 Then let these useless streams be staid, 
 Wear native courage in your face : 
 These vulgar things were never made 
 For souls of a superior race. — Watts. 
 
 I weep, but not rebellious tears; 
 
 I mourn, but not in hopeless woe j 
 I droop, but not with doubtful fears ; 
 
 For whom I’ve trusted, Him I know. 
 Lord, I believe ; assuage my grief, 
 
 And help, oh ! help my unbelief. 
 
 My days of youth and health are o’er ; 
 
 My early friends are dead and gone ; 
 
 And there are times it tries me sore 
 To think I’m left on earth alone. 
 
 But yet Faith whispers, ‘ ’Tis not so : 
 
 He will not leave, nor let thee go.’ 
 
 Caroline Anne Southey. 
 
 Weep not for him that dieth ; 
 
 For he sleeps and is at rest, 
 
 And the couch whereon he lieth 
 Is the green earth’s quiet breast: 
 
 But weep for him who pineth 
 On a far land’s hateful shore. 
 
 Who wearily declineth, 
 
 Y here ye see his face no more! 
 
 Weep not for him that dieth ; 
 
 For friends are round his bed, 
 
 And many a young lip sigheth 
 W hen they name the early dead : 
 
 But weep for him that liveth 
 Where none will know or care, 
 
 When the groan his faint heart giveth 
 Is the last sigh of despair. —Mrs Norton. 
 
 Oh, weep not for the dead ! 
 
 Rather, oh, rather give the tear 
 To those who darkly linger here. 
 
 When all besides are fled : 
 
 Weep for the spirit withering 
 In its cold, cheerless sorrowing; 
 
 Weep for the young and lovely one 
 That ruin darkly revels on ; 
 
 But never be a tear-drop shed 
 
 For them, the pure enfranchised dead. 
 
 Mary E. Brooks. 
 
 3494 - WICKEDNESS. 
 
 W HAT rein can hold licentious wickedness 
 Y hen down the hill he holds his fierce career? 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 The wicked with anxiety of mind 
 
 Shall pine away, in sighs consume their breath. 
 
 Sandys. 
 
WICKEDNESS 
 
 675 
 
 WIFE 
 
 Few are so wicked as to take deliglit 
 In crimes unprofitable.— Dry den. 
 
 3495. WICKEDNESS. Growth in 
 
 He transgresseth yet again, and falleth by little and 
 little, 
 
 Till the ground crumble beneath him, and he sinketh 
 in the gulf despairing ; 
 
 For there is nothing in the earth so small that it may 
 not produce great things, 
 
 And no swerving from a right line that may not lead 
 eternally astray. 
 
 A landmark tree was once a seed ; and the dust in 
 the balance maketh a difference ; 
 
 And the cairn is heap’d high by each one flinging a 
 pebble : 
 
 The dangerous bar in the harbour’s mouth is only 
 grains of sand ; 
 
 And the shoal that hath wreck’d a navy is the work 
 of a colony of worms : 
 
 Yea, and a despicable gnat may madden the mighty 
 elephant; 
 
 And the living rock is worn by the diligent flow of 
 the brook. 
 
 Little art thou, O man, and in trifles thou contendest 
 with thine equals, 
 
 For atoms must crowd upon atoms ere crime groweth 
 to be a giant.— M. F. Tnpper. 
 
 3496. WIDOW’S GIFT. The 
 
 Two mites, two drops, yet all her house and land, 
 
 Fall from a steady heart, though trembling hand ; 
 
 The other’s wanton wealth foams high and brave ; 
 
 The other cast away,—she only ga vz.—Crashaw. 
 
 3497. WIFE. A bad 
 
 Better through life barefooted press, 
 
 Than in a pinching shoe ; 
 
 Better no house or home possess, 
 
 Than have a bad wife too ! 
 
 Oriental, tr. by W. R. Alger. 
 
 Of earthly good, the best is a good wife. 
 
 A bad—the bitterest curse of human life. 
 
 3498. WIFE. A good 
 
 The waiting angel, patient wife, 
 
 All through the battle at our side, 
 
 That smiled her sweetness on our strife 
 For gain, and it was sanctified : 
 
 When waves of trouble beat breast-high, 
 
 And the heart sank, she pour’d a balm 
 
 That still’d them, and the saddest sky 
 Made clear and starry with her calm. 
 
 And when the world, with harvest ripe, 
 
 In all its golden fulness lay, 
 
 And God, it seem’d, saw fit to wipe 
 Even on earth, our tears away,— 
 
 The good, true heart that bravely won. 
 
 Must smile up in our face, and fall: 
 
 And all our happy days are done, 
 
 And this the end ! And is this all ? 
 
 All the Year Round. 
 
 3499. WIFE. Admonition to a 
 
 Fye ! fye ! unknit that threatening unkind brow ; 
 
 And dart not scornful glances from those eyes, 
 
 To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor: 
 
 It blots thy beauty, as frosts bite the meads ; 
 Confounds thy fame, as whirlwinds shake fair buds ; 
 And in no sense is meet, or amiable. Shakespeare. 
 
 3500. WIFE. Duty of a 
 
 Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper, 
 
 Thy head, thy sovereign ; one that cares for thee. 
 And for thy maintenance ; commits his body 
 To painful labour, both by sea and land ; 
 
 To watch the night in storms, the day in cold, 
 While thou liest warm at home, secure and safe ; 
 And craves no other tribute at thy hands 
 But love, fair looks, and true obedience, 
 
 Too little payment for so great a debt. 
 
 Such duty as the subject owes the prince, 
 
 Even such a woman oweth to her husband : 
 
 And when she's froward, peevish, sullen, sour. 
 
 And not obedient to his honest will, 
 
 What is she, but a foul contending rebel, 
 
 And graceless traitor to her loving lord ? 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 I am ashamed, that women are so simple 
 To offer war where they should kneel for peace ; 
 Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway, 
 
 When they are bound to serve, love, and obey. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 m \ 
 
 For nothing lovelier can be found 
 In woman, than to study household good, 
 
 And good works in her husband to promote. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 3501. WIFE. Emblem of a good 
 
 The butterfly, which sports on gaudy wing, 
 
 The brawling brooklet, lost in foam and spiay. 
 
 As it goes dancing on its idle way, 
 
 The sunflower, in broad daylight glistening,— 
 
 Are types of her who in the festive ring 
 laves but to bask in fashion’s vain display, 
 
 And glittering through her bright but useless day, 
 ‘Flaunts, and goes down a disregarded thing ! 
 
 Thy emblem, Lucy, is the busy bee, 
 
WIFE 
 
 676 
 
 WILL 
 
 Whose industry for future hours provides; 
 
 The gentle streamlet, gladding as it glides 
 Ij nseen along j the flower which gives the lea 
 I'ragrance and loveliness, are types of thee, 
 
 And of the active worth thy modest merit hides. 
 
 Barton. 
 
 3502. WIFE. Husband and 
 
 True wife ! fond wife ! let us together lean, 
 
 Like trees with intertwining boughs, that so 
 Brave angry skies, whatever winds may blow : 
 And, though there interpose a cloudy screen. 
 
 Lift up theii heads towards the blue serene 
 
 From whence the sunbeams and the rain-drops 
 flow, 
 
 By which they gather strength, and taller grow, 
 And keep their shoots and saplings fresh and green. 
 
 11 ue wife ! fond wife ! we have together stood, 
 
 1 hrough years of trial, each supporting each ; 
 
 Ever unto the infinite and good, 
 
 Thy thoughts than mine have higher, wider 
 reach’d ; 
 
 And I have felt how true the wise one’s word j 
 Thou art indeed a gift, a favour from the Lord ! 
 
 Egone. 
 
 35 ° 3 * WIFE. Influence of a 
 
 Then befoie all they stand,—the holy vow 
 And ling of gold, no fond illusions now, 
 
 Bind her as his. Across the threshold led, 
 
 And every tear kiss’d off as soon as shed. 
 
 His house she enters—there to be a light, 
 
 Shining within, when all without is night; 
 
 A guardian angel o’er his life presiding, 
 
 Doubling his pleasures and his cares dividing, 
 Winning him back when mingling in the throng, 
 Back from a world we love, alas ! too'long, 
 
 To fireside happiness, to hours of ease, 
 
 Blest with that charm, the certainty to please. 
 
 How oft her eyes read his ; her gentle mind 
 To all his wishes, all his thoughts, inclined; 
 
 Still subject—ever on the watch to borrow 
 IVIirth of his mirth and sorrow of his sorrow ! 
 
 The soul of music slumbers in the shell, 
 
 1 ill waked and kindled by the master’s spell, 
 
 And feeling hearts—touch them but rightly—pour 
 A thousand melodies unheard before !— Eogcrs. 
 
 35 ° 4 - "WIFE. Value of a 
 
 A Wife becomes the truest,—tenderest friend, 
 
 I he balm of comfort, and the source of joy ! 
 
 Through every various turn of life the same. 
 
 Savage. 
 
 A wife’s a man’s best piece ; who, till he marries, 
 
 Wants making up; she is the shrine to which 
 
 Is ature doth send us forth on pilgrimage j 
 She was a scion taken from that tree, 
 
 Into which, if she has no second grafting, 
 
 I he world can have no fruit; she is man’s 
 Arithmetic, which teaches him to number 
 And multiply himself in his own children ; 
 
 She is the good man’s Paradise, and the bad’s 
 First step to heaven ; a treasure which, who wants, 
 Cannot be trusted to posterity, 
 
 A or pay his own debts ; she’s a golden sentence 
 Writ by our Maker, which the angels may 
 Discourse of, only men know how to use, 
 
 And none but devils violate. —Shirley. 
 
 Some wicked wits have libell’d all the fair. 
 
 With matchless impudence they style a wife 
 The dear-bought curse, and lawful plague of life; 
 A bosom serpent, a domestic evil, 
 
 A night invasion, and a mid-day devil. 
 
 Let not the wise these sland’rous words regard, 
 Tut curse the bones of every lying bard. 
 
 All other goods by Fortune’s hand are given,— 
 
 A wife is the peculiar grace of Heaven.— Pope. 
 
 35 ° 5 * WILL. Sacrifice of the 
 
 Lord, I submit. Complete Thy gracious will, 
 For, if Thou slay me, I will trust Thee still. 
 
 O, be my will so swallow’d up in Thine, 
 
 That I may do Thy will, in doing mine. 
 
 Hannah More. 
 
 Leaning on Him, make with reverent meekness, 
 
 His own, thy will; 
 
 And with strength from Him shall thy utter weakness 
 Life’s task fulfil ; 
 
 And that cloud itself, which now before thee 
 Lies dark in view, 
 
 Shall with beams of light, from the inner glory. 
 
 Be stricken through. — Whittier. 
 
 Laid on Thine altar, O my Lord Divine, 
 
 Accept this gift to-day, for Jesus’ sake : 
 
 I have no jewels to adorn Thy shrine, 
 
 Nor any world-famed sacrifice to make ; 
 
 But here I bring, within my trembling hand, 
 
 This will of mine—a thing that seemeth small ; 
 
 And Thou alone, O Lord, canst understand 
 I low, v hen I yield 1 hee this, I yield mine all. 
 Hidden therein Thy searching gaze canst see 
 Struggles of passion, visions of delight, 
 
 All that I have, or am, or fain would be,— 
 
 Deep loves, fond hopes, and longings infinite ; 
 
 It hath been wet with tears and dimm’d with sighs. 
 Clinch’d in my grasp till beauty hath it none. 
 
 Now from Thy footstool, where it vanquish’d lies, 
 
 The prayer ascendeth—May Thy will be done ! 
 
WILL 
 
 677 
 
 WINTER 
 
 Take it, O Father ! ere my courage fail, 
 
 And merge it so in Thine own will, that e’en 
 If in some desperate hour my cries prevail, 
 
 And Thou give back my gift, it may have been 
 So changed, so purified, so fair have grown, 
 
 So one with Thee, so fill’d with peace Divine, 
 I may not know or feel it as mine own, 
 
 But, gaining back my will, may find it Thine. 
 
 3506. WILL: the ruling faculty. 
 
 Will holds the sceptre in the soul, 
 
 And o’er the passions of the heart doth reign. 
 
 Davies. 
 
 3507. WILLINGNESS— without Power. 
 
 I strive like to the vessel in the tide-way. 
 
 Which, lacking favouring breeze, hath not the power 
 To stem the powerful current. Even so, 
 
 Resolving daily to forsake my vices, 
 
 Habit, strong circumstance, renew’d temptation, 
 Sweep me to sea again. O heavenly breath, 
 
 Fill thou my sails, and aid the feeble vessel, 
 
 Which ne’er can reach the blessed port without thee. 
 
 Old Flay. 
 
 3508. WINE. Curse of 
 
 Look not upon the wine when it 
 Is red within the cup ! 
 
 Stay not for pleasure when she fills 
 Her tempting beaker up ! 
 
 Though clear its depths, and rich its glow, 
 
 3509. WINE. Effects of 
 
 O MADNESS, to think use of strongest wines 
 And strongest drinks our chief suppoit of health ; 
 When God, with these forbidden, made choice to 
 rear 
 
 His mighty champion, strong above compaie, 
 
 Whose drink was only from the liquid brook. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 O when we swallow down 
 Intoxicating wine, we drink damnation; 
 
 Naked we stand the sport of mocking bends, 
 Who grin to see our noble nature vanquish’d, 
 Subdued to beasts.— C. Johnson. 
 
 Wine is like anger ; for it makes us strong, 
 
 Blind, and impatient, and it leads us wrong : 
 
 The strength is quickly lost, we feel the error long. 
 
 Crabbe. 
 
 Could the wine-cup tell its story, 
 
 The story of its day, 
 
 It would tell of strength and glory 
 Long fallen to decay! 
 
 It would tell of revel weary, 
 
 When battle-fields were won ; 
 
 It would tell of dark hours dreary, 
 
 When revel hours were done ! 
 
 It would tell of shame and sorrow, 
 
 Of weariness and grief, 
 
 Of many a wished to-morrow, 
 
 Proved barren of relief ! 
 
 Of departed fame and glory, 
 
 Could the wine-cup tell its story ! 
 
 A spell of madness lurks below. 
 
 They say ’tis pleasant on the lip, 
 And merry on the brain, 
 
 They say it stirs the sluggish blood, 
 And dulls the tooth of pain. 
 Ay—but within its glowing deeps 
 A stinging serpent, unseen, sleeps. 
 
 Its rosy lights will turn to fire, 
 
 Its coolness change to thirst, 
 
 3510. WINE. Use of 
 
 «S XA Y till I bring the cup with Bacchus crown’d, 
 Then with a plenteous draught refresh thy soul, 
 And draw new spirits from the generous bowl.’ 
 
 £ Far hence be Bacchus’ gifts,’ Hector rejoin’d. 
 
 ‘ Inflaming wine, pernicious to mankind, 
 Unnerves the limbs and dulls the noble mind : 
 Let chiefs abstain —and spare the sacred juice 
 To sprinkle to the gods—’ tis fitter used— Homer. 
 
 And by its mirth within the brain 
 A sleepless worm is nursed. 
 
 There’s not a bubble at the brim 
 That does not carry food for him. 
 
 Then dash the brimming cup aside, 
 
 And spill its purple wine, 
 
 Take not its madness to thy lip, 
 
 Let not its curse be thine. 
 
 ’Tis red and rich— but grief and woe 
 
 Are hid those rosy depths below. 
 
 N. P. Willis. 
 
 3511. WINTER. Analogy of 
 
 Behold, fond man! 
 
 See here thy pictured life : pass some few years, 
 Thy flowering Spring, thy Summer’s ardent strength, 
 Thy sober Autumn, fading into age, 
 
 And pale concluding Winter comes at last, 
 
 And shuts the scene. Ah ! whither now arc fled 
 Those dreams of greatness? those unsolid hopes 
 Of happiness? those longings after fame? 
 
 Those restless cares ? those busy, bustling days ? 
 
WINTER 
 
 67S 
 
 WISDOM 
 
 Those gay-spent, festive nights? those veering 
 thoughts, 
 
 Lost between good and ill, that shared thy life a 
 All now are vanish’d ! Virtue sole survives 
 Immortal, never-failing friend of man, 
 
 His guide to happiness on high. And see! 
 
 Tis come, the glorious morn 1 the second birth 
 Of heaven and earth ! awakening nature hears 
 Hie new creating word, and starts to life 
 n every heighten’d form, from pain and death 
 For ever free. The great eternal scheme. 
 
 Involving all and in a perfect whole 
 Uniting, as the prospect wider spreads 
 To reason’s eye, refined, clears up apace. 
 
 W vainly wise ! ye blind presumptuous! now. 
 Confounded in the dust, adore that Power 
 And W isdom oft arraign’d : see now the cause 
 U hy unassuming worth in secret lived 
 And died neglected : why the good min’s share 
 In life was gall and bitterness of soul • 
 
 Why the lone widow and her orphans pined 
 In starving solitude; while luxury, 
 in palaces, lay straining her low thought 
 o orm unreal wants : why heaven-born truth 
 And moderation fair wore the red marks 
 Of superstition’s scourge : why licensed pain, 
 
 That cruel spoiler, that embosom’d foe 
 Embitter’d all our bliss. Ye good, distress’d! 
 
 P n °“ e ; few ! ' vho unbending stand 
 
 Beneath life s pressure, yet bear up a while. 
 
 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 sSL-Thomson 
 
 3512 - WINTER. Lessons of 
 
 The valley stream is frozen, 
 
 The hills are cold and bare ; 
 
 And the wild white bees of winter 
 Swarm in the darken’d air. 
 
 I look on the naked forest : 
 
 Was it ever green in June ? 
 
 Did it burn with gold and crimson 
 In the dim autumnal noon ? 
 
 I look on the barren meadow : 
 
 W as it ever heap’d with hay ? 
 
 Did it hide the grassy cottage 
 'U here the skylark’s children lay? 
 
 I look on the desolate garden : 
 
 Is it true the rose was there ? 
 
 And the woodbine’s musky blossoms. 
 And the hyacinth’s purple hair ! 
 
 I look on my heart, and marvel 
 
 If Love were ever its own_ 
 
 If the spring of promise brighten'd, 
 
 And the summer of passion shone ? 
 
 Is the stem of bliss but wither’d, 
 
 And the root survives the blast ? 
 
 Are the seeds of the Future sleeping 
 Under the leaves of the Past ? 
 
 Ah, yes ! for a thousand Aprils 
 The frozen germs shall grow, 
 
 And th e dews of a thousand summers 
 ^ ait in the womb of the snow ! 
 
 Bayard Taylor. 
 
 35 r o- W ISDOM. Christian 
 Be wisely worldly, but not worldly wis <t.-Quarles. 
 
 That thou may’st injure no man, dove-like be • 
 And serpent-like, that none may injure thee. 
 
 Owen . 
 
 35 t 4 - WISDOM: comes late in life. 
 
 Wisdom, slow product of laborious years 
 The only fruit that life’s cold winter bears’ 
 hy sacred seeds in vain in youth we lay,’ 
 y the fierce storm of passion torn away. 
 
 Should some remain in a rich generous soil, 
 ey ong lie hid, and must be raised with toil * 
 Faintly they struggle with inclement skies 
 Ao sooner born than the poor planter dies! 
 
 lady AT. IV. Montagu. 
 
 M ISDOM. Desires of 
 
 Ah ! when did Wisdom covet length of days 
 Or seek its bliss in pleasure, wealth, or praise’? 
 
 V! ’ . ‘ sdom VIews wi * an indifferent eye 
 All finite joys, all blessings bom to die. 
 
 Hannah More. 
 
 35 t6‘ "WISDOM. Excellence of 
 
 Wisdom Divine ! who tells the price 
 Of Wisdom’s costly merchandise ? 
 
 Wisdom to silver we prefer, 
 
 And gold is dross compared to her. 
 
 Her hands are fill’d with length of days. 
 
 True riches, and immortal praise_ 
 
 Riches of Christ on all bestow’d, 
 
 And honour that descends from God. 
 
 To purest joys she all invites - — 
 
 Chaste, holy, spiritual delights ; 
 
 Hei -ways are ways of pleasantness. 
 
 And all her flowery paths are peace. 
 
WISDOM 
 
 679 
 
 WISDOM 
 
 Happy the man who Wisdom gains ; 
 
 Thrice happy, who his guest retains ; 
 
 He owns, and shall for ever own, 
 
 Wisdom, and Christ, and Heaven, are one. 
 
 Charles Wesley. 
 
 3517. WISDOM : in what it consists. 
 
 But apt the mind or fancy is to rove 
 Uncheck’d, and of her roving is no end, 
 
 Till warn’d, or by experience taught, she learn 
 That not to know at large of things remote 
 From use, obscure and subtle, but to know 
 That which before us lies in daily life, 
 
 Is the prime wisdom ; what is more, is fume, 
 
 Or emptiness, or fond impertinence, 
 
 And renders us in things that most concern 
 Unpractised, unprepared, and still to seek. 
 
 Milton. 
 
 To fear Thy power, to trust Thy grace, 
 
 Is our divinest skill; 
 
 And he’s the wisest of our race 
 
 Who best obeys Thy will. — Watts. 
 
 Who are the wise? 
 
 They who have govern’d with a self-control 
 Each wild and baneful passion of the soul,— 
 Curb’d the strong impulse of all fierce desires. 
 
 But kept alive affection’s purer fires ; 
 
 They who have pass’d the labyrinth of life. 
 Without one hour of weakness or of strife ; 
 Prepared each change of fortune to endure, 
 Humble though rich, and dignified though poor,— 
 Skill’d in the latent movements of the heart, 
 Leam’d in the lore which nature can impart,— 
 Teaching that sweet philosophy aloud 
 Which sees the ‘ silver lining ’ of the cloud,— 
 Looking for good in all beneath the skies : — 
 These are the truly wise !— P. Prince. 
 
 3518. WISDOM. Independence of 
 
 Wisdom of what herself approves makes choice. 
 Nor is led captive by the common voice. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 3519. WISDOM. Legend of 
 
 The Prophet once, sitting in calm debate, 
 
 Said : ‘ I am wisdom’s fortress ; but the gate 
 Thereof is Ali.’ Wherefore some who heard. 
 
 With unbelieving jealousy were stirr’d ; 
 
 And, that they might on him confusion bring. 
 
 Ten of the boldest join’d to prove the thing. 
 
 ‘ Let us in turn to Ali go,’ they said, 
 
 * And ask if wisdom should be sought instead 
 Of earthly riches : then, if he reply 
 To each of us, in thought, accordingly, 
 
 And yet to none, in speech or phrase, the same, 
 
 His shall the honour be,-and ours the shame.’ 
 
 Now, when the first his bold demand did make, 
 These were the words which Ali straightway spake : 
 
 ‘ Wisdom is the inheritance of those 
 Whom Allah favours ; riches, of his foes. ’ 
 
 Unto the second he said : ‘ Thyself must be 
 Guard to thy wealth; but wisdom guardeth thee.’ 
 Unto the third : ‘ By wisdom wealth is won ; 
 
 But riches purchased wisdom yet for none.’ 
 
 Unto the fourth : ‘ Thy goods the thief may take ; 
 But into wisdom’s house he cannot break.’ 
 
 Unto the fifth : ‘ Thy goods decrease the more 
 Thou givest; but use enlarges wisdom’s store.’ 
 
 Unto the sixth : ‘ Wealth tempts to evil ways ; 
 
 But the desire of wisdom is God’s praise.’ 
 
 Unto the seventh : ‘ Divide thy wealth, each part 
 Becomes a pittance. Give with open heart 
 Thy wisdom, and each separate gift shall be 
 All that thou hast, yet not impoverish thee.’ 
 
 Unto the eighth : ‘ Wealth cannot keep itseli; 
 
 But wisdom is the steward even of pelf.’ 
 
 Unto the ninth : ‘ The camels slowly bring 
 Thy goods ; but wisdom has the swallow’s wing.’ 
 And lastly, when the tenth did question make, 
 
 These were the ready words which Ali spake : 
 
 ‘ Wealth is a darkness which the soul should fear ; 
 But wisdom is the lamp which makes it clear.’ 
 Crimson with shame the questioners withdrew. 
 
 And they declared : ‘ The Prophet’s words were 
 true ; 
 
 The mouth of Ali is the golden door 
 Of wisdom. * 
 
 When his friends to Ali bore 
 These words, he smiled and said : ‘ And should they 
 ask 
 
 The same until my dying day, the task 
 Were easy ; for the stream from wisdom’s well, 
 Which God supplies, is inexhaustible.’ 
 
 Bayard Taylor. 
 
 3520. WISDOM : must be sought. 
 
 The clouds may drop down titles and estates ; 
 Wealth may seek us, but wisdom must be sought; 
 Sought before all, but (how unlike all else 
 We seek on earth !) ’tis never sought in vain. 
 
 Young. 
 
 3521. WISDOM: of Providence 
 
 All is best, though oft we doubt 
 What the unsearchable dispose 
 Of highest wisdom brings about, 
 
 And ever best found in the close. 
 
 Milton, 
 
WISDOM 
 
 680 
 
 WIT 
 
 ’Tis not thy terrors, Lord, thy dreadful frown 
 Which keep my step in duty’s narrow path • 
 
 I is not the awful threatening of thy wrath!- 
 liut that in virtue’s sacred smile alone 
 I find or peace or happiness. Thy light, 
 
 In all its prodigality, is shed 
 
 Upon the worthy and the unworthy head ; 
 
 And thou dost wrap in misery’s stormy night 
 I he holy as the thankless. All is well; 
 
 Thy wisdom has to each his portion given : 
 Why should our hearts by selfishness be riven? 
 IIS vain to murmur,—daring to rebel : 
 
 L °rd I would fear Thee, though I fear’d not hell 
 And love Thee, though I had no hopes of heaven \ 
 S a TerCSa De Avila • tr. by Sir Jo/m Bowring. 
 
 We slight the precious kernel of the stone, 
 And toil to polish its rough coat alone : 
 
 A just deportment, manners graced with ease, 
 Llegant phrase, and figure form’d to please, 
 Are qualities that seem to comprehend 
 Whatever parents, guardians, schools intend. 
 
 C07vper, 
 
 35 2 6 - WISDOM. Sympathetic 
 
 Wisdom that scorns the poet’s tenderness, 
 That cannot love the beautiful and bright, 
 And is not moved by sorrow and distress, 
 Hath never read the page of Nature right. 
 
 3522. WISDOM. Power of 
 
 The bold are but the instruments of the wise • 
 hey undertake the dangers they advise. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 Deep subtle wits. 
 
 In truth, are master spirits in the world. 
 
 Hie brave man’s courage, and the student’s lore 
 ie but as tools Ins secret ends to work, 
 
 10 hath the skill to use them.— Joanna Bailie. 
 
 Vishnu ask’d Pal to take his choice, 
 
 With five wise men to visit hell, 
 
 Or with five ignorant visit heaven. 
 
 T^n quick did Bal in heart rejoice, 
 
 And chose in hell with the wise to dwell • 
 lor heaven is hell, with folly’s bell; 
 
 And hell is heaven, with wisdom’s leaven 
 Oriental, tr. by IV. R. Alger. 
 
 o 5 2 3 - WISDOM. Reputation of 
 
 It moves thee more perhaps than folly ought, 
 ien some green heads, as void of wit as thought, 
 uppose themselves monopolists of sense 
 And wiser men’s ability pretence. 
 
 Though time will wear us, and we must grow old, 
 uch men are not forgot as soon as cold : 
 their fragrant memory will outlast their tomb, 
 Embalm d for ever in its own perfume.—Colter 
 
 j 5 2 4 ‘ WISDOM. Rule of 
 
 A WISE man likes that best that is itself; 
 
 Kot " lat which onl y seems, though it look fairer. 
 
 Middleton. 
 
 3525. WISDOM : supplanted. 
 
 Accomplishments have taken virtue’s place 
 nd wisdom falls before exterior grace; 
 
 And genius that would scorn the lowly way 
 
 leads to , tr " th ’ al ‘h°ugh by millions trod, 
 Might humble violets twine with haughty bav 
 
 And learn from children how to soar to God 
 
 iere s worldly wisdom, and there’s poesy’s art _ 
 oth of this earth ; but in their nobler sphere 
 he sisters twain may .teach an erring heart, 
 Reclaim from sin, and guide in love and fear. 
 
 Household Words 
 
 3527 . WISHES. 
 
 Wishing, of all employments, is the worst— 
 Philosophy’s reverse, and health’s decay 
 Were I as plump as stall’d theology 
 M ishing would waste me to thin shade again. 
 M ere I as wealthy as a South-sea dream, 
 Wishing is an expedient to be poor: 
 
 Wishing the constant hectic of a fool.— Young. 
 
 In idle wishes fools supinely stay ; 
 
 Re there a will,—and wisdom finds a way. 
 
 Crabbe. 
 
 ad the cat wings, no sparrow could live in the air • 
 ad each his wish, what more would Allah have to 
 spare ? Oriental, tr. by W. R. Alger. 
 
 3528. WIT. Christian 
 
 A Christian’s wit is inoffensive light, 
 
 A beam that aids but never grieves the sight • 
 Vigorous in age as in the flush of youth, 
 
 ’Tis always active on the side of truth ; ’ 
 Temperance and peace insure its healthful state 
 And make it brightest at its latest date. 
 
 °h, I have seen (nor hope perhaps in vain, 
 
 Eie life go down, to see such sights again) 
 
 A veteran warrior in the Christian field, 
 
 Who never saw the sword he could not’wield: 
 Crave without dulness, learned without pride, 
 Exact but not precise, though meek, keen-eyed ; 
 A man that would have foil’d at their own play' 
 A dozen would-bes of the modern day; 
 
 1 
 
WIT 
 
 WOMAN 
 
 681 
 
 Who, when occasion justified its use, 
 
 Had wit as bright and ready to produce ; 
 Could fetch from records of an earlier age, 
 
 Or from philosophy’s enlighten’d page, 
 
 His rich materials, and regale your ear 
 With strains it was a privilege to hear: 
 
 Yet above all, his luxury supreme, 
 
 And his chief glory, was the gospel theme ; 
 There he was copious as old Greece or Rome ; 
 His happy eloquence seem’d there at home, 
 
 Like the resistless beams of blazing light, 
 
 They cheer the strong, and pain the weakly sight. 
 
 Stilling fleet. 
 
 3534. WIT. Sense and 
 
 Sense is our helmet, wit is but the plume ; 
 
 The plume exposes, ’tis our helmet saves. 
 
 Sense is the diamond, weighty, solid, sound ; 
 When cut by wit, it casts a brighter beam ; 
 Yet, wit apart, it is a diamond still. — Young,. 
 
 Ambitious not to shine or to excel, 
 
 But to treat justly what he loved so well. 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 3529. WIT. Danger of 
 
 Wit’s an unruly engine, wildly striking 
 
 Sometimes a friend, sometimes the engineer: 
 Hast thou the knack? pamper it not with liking: 
 
 But if thou want it, buy it, not too dear. 
 
 Many, affecting wit beyond their power, 
 
 Have got to be a dear fool for an hour.— Herbert. 
 
 3535. WIT. Striving after 
 
 Our wise forefathers, born in sober days, 
 Resign’d to fools the tart and witty phrase ; 
 The motley coat gave warning for the jest, 
 Excused the wound, and sanctified the pest ; 
 But we, from high to low, all strive to sneer. 
 Will all be wits, and not the livery wear. 
 
 Stillingfleet. 
 
 3536. WITCHES. 
 
 3530. WIT: defined. 
 
 True wit is nature to advantage drest ; 
 
 That oft was thought, but ne’er so well exprest : 
 Something whose truth, convinced at sight, we find, 
 That gives us back the image of our mind.— Pope. 
 
 3531. WIT: everlasting. 
 
 True wit is everlasting, like the sun, 
 
 Which, though sometimes behind a cloud retired, 
 Breaks out again, and is by all admired: 
 
 A flame that glows amidst conceptions fit, 
 
 E’en something of divine, and more than wit; 
 Itself unseen, yet all things by it shown, 
 
 Describing all men, but described by none. 
 
 Duke of Buckingham. 
 
 3532. WIT. Hurtful 
 
 Works may have more wit than does them good, 
 As bodies perish through excess of blood.— Pope. 
 
 3533. WIT. Penalties of 
 
 Unhappy wit, like most mistaken things, 
 
 Atones not for that envy which it brings. 
 
 In youth alone its empty praise we boast : 
 
 But soon the short-lived vanity is lost ; 
 
 Like some fair flower the early spring supplies, 
 That gaily blooms, but e’en in blooming dies. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 The rays of wit gild wheresoe’er they strike, 
 
 But are not therefore fit for all alike; 
 
 They charm the lively, but the grave offend. 
 And raise a foe as often as a friend ; 
 
 OUR witches are no longer old 
 And wrinkled beldames, Satan-sold, 
 
 But young and gay and laughing creatures. 
 With the heart’s sunshine on their features ; 
 Their sorcery—the light which dances 
 When the raised lid unveils its glances, 
 
 And the low-breathed and gentle tone 
 Faintly responding unto ours, 
 
 Soft, dream-like as a fairy’s moan 
 
 Above its nightly-closing flowers.— Whittier. 
 
 3537. WOE. 
 
 Wise men ne’er wail their present woes, 
 
 But presently prevent the ways to wail. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 So many great 
 
 Illustrious spirits have conversed with woe, 
 
 Have in her school been taught, as are enough 
 To consecrate distress, and make ambition 
 Even wish the frown beyond the smile of fortune. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 Woes cluster ; rare are solitary woes ; 
 
 They love a train, they tread each other’s heel. 
 
 Young. 
 
 353S. WOMAN. Comparisons of 
 
 An eastern prince his viziers once assembled, 
 And ask’d them what a woman most resembled. 
 
 One said, the sun, the source of light, 
 
 Which made all nature gay ; 
 
 When woman’s present, all is bright, 
 
 All dull when she’s away. 
 
WOMAN 
 
 682 
 
 WOMAN 
 
 Woman, cried one, we can compare 
 To nought so justly as to air ; 
 
 5 Tis light, indeed, and apt to fly ; 
 
 But it unites the earth and sky : 
 
 So woman, at creation given, 
 
 Stood as a link ’twixt man and heaven. 
 
 She’s like the rainbow, said a third, 
 
 1 hat, when the elements are stirr’d 
 To strife, dissolves the storm. 
 
 Its aspect does sweet calm diffuse ; 
 
 We’re dazzled by its brilliant hues. 
 
 Its symmetry of form. 
 
 But who such prize possess’d ?—Sure, no man: 
 Tis an illusion—so is woman. 
 
 The prince, who found his council thus divided. 
 Left the perplexing question undecided. 
 
 3539 - WOMAN : different from man. 
 
 True genius, but true woman ! dost deny 
 Thy woman’s nature with a manly scorn, 
 
 And break away the gauds and armlets worn 
 By weaker women in captivity ? 
 
 Ah, vain denial! that revolted cry 
 Is sobb’d in by a woman’s voice forlorn ! 
 
 Thy woman’s hair, my sister, all unshorn. 
 
 Floats back dishevell’d strength in agony, 
 Disproving thy man’s name ! and while before 
 The world thou burnest in a poet-fire, 
 
 We see thy woman-heart beat evermore 
 Through the large flame. Beat purer, heart, and 
 higher, 
 
 Till God unsex thee on the heavenly shore, 
 
 Where unincarnate spirits purely aspire. 
 
 Airs JZ. B. Browning. 
 
 As the man beholds the woman. 
 
 As the woman sees the man. 
 
 Curiously they note each other 
 As each other only can. 
 
 Never can the man divest her 
 Of that wondrous charm of sex ; 
 
 Ever must she, dreaming of him, 
 
 The same mystic charm annex. 
 
 Strange, inborn, profound attraction l 
 Not the poet’s range of soul, 
 
 Learning, science, sexless virtue, 
 
 Can the gazer’s thought control. 
 
 But through every nerve and fancy 
 W hich the inmost heart reveals, 
 
 Twined, ingrain d, the sense of difference. 
 
 Like the subtle serpent steals.— Procter. 
 
 3540. WOMAN. Fidelity of 
 
 Oh, what makes woman lovely ! virtue, faith, 
 And gentleness in suffering,—an endurance 
 Through scoin or trial,—these call beauty forth. 
 Give it the stamp celestial, and admit it 
 To sisterhood with angels !— Brent. 
 
 Not she with trait rous kiss her Saviour stunn, 
 Not she denied Him with unholy tongue ; 
 
 She, while aj)ostles shrank, could danger brave, 
 Last at Ilis cross, and earliest at His grave. 
 
 P. S. Barrett. 
 
 \v hen foes the hand of menace shook, 
 
 And friends betray’d, denied, forsook, ; 
 
 Then woman, meekly constant still, 
 
 Follow’d to Calvary’s fatal hill; 
 
 Yes, follow’d where the boldest fail’d. 
 Unmoved by threat or sneer ; 
 
 For faithful woman’s love prevail’d 
 
 O ei helpless woman’s fear.— ILankinson. 
 
 354 1 - WOMAN : her grief. 
 
 Yv Oman’s grief is like a summer’s storm. 
 Short as ’tis violent.—Joanna Baillie. 
 
 354 2 * WOMAN : her mission. 
 
 Ah ! friend ! to dazzle let the vain design; 
 
 To raise the thought, and touch the heart, be thine l 
 This charm shall grow, while that fatigues the ring, 
 Flaunts and goes down, an unregarded thing ; 
 
 So when the sun’s broad beam has tired the sight, 
 All mild ascends the moon’s more sober litrht. 
 
 Serene in virgin modesty she shines, 
 
 And unobserv’d, the glaring orb declines.— Pope. 
 
 To train the foliage o’er the snowy lawn ; 
 
 To guide the pencil, turn the tuneful page; 
 
 To lend new flavour to the fruitful year, 
 
 And heighten nature’s dainties ; in their race 
 To rear the graces into second life ; 
 
 To give society its highest taste ; 
 
 Well-order’d home man’s best delight to make ; 
 And by submissive wisdom, modest skill, 
 
 With every gentle care-eluding art 
 1 o raise the virtues, animate the bliss, 
 
 And sweeten all the toils of human life : 
 d his be the female dignity and praise.— Thomson . 
 
 Seek to be good, but aim not to be great; 
 
 A woman’s noblest station is retreat; 
 
 Her fairest virtues fly from public sight; 
 
 Domestic worth,—that shuns too strong a light. 
 
 Lord Lyttelton . 
 
WOMAN 
 
 683 
 
 ? Tis thine to curb the passions’ maddening sway, 
 And wipe the mourner’s bitter tear away ; 
 
 ’Tis thine to soothe when hope itself has fled, 
 
 And cheer with angel smile the sufferer’s bed ; 
 
 To give to earth its charm, to life its zest, 
 
 One only task,—to bless, and to be blest. 
 
 Grahame. 
 
 3543. WOMAN: her power. 
 
 Blessings on the hand of woman ! 
 
 Angels guard its strength and grace 
 In the palace, cottage, hovel, 
 
 Oh, no matter where the place : 
 
 Would that never storms assail’d it; 
 
 Rainbows ever gently curl’d ; 
 
 For the hand that rocks the cradle 
 Is the hand that rocks the world. 
 
 Infancy’s the tender fountain ; 
 
 Power may with beauty flow ; 
 
 Mother first to guide the streamlets. 
 
 From them souls unresting grow— 
 
 Grow on for the good or evil, 
 
 Sunshine stream’d or darkness hurl’d 5 
 For the hand that rocks the cradle 
 Is the hand that rocks the world. 
 
 3544. WOMAN : her rights. 
 
 Yes, God has made me a woman ; 
 
 I am content to be 
 
 Just what He meant, not reaching out 
 For other things, since He 
 Who knows me best and loves me best has 
 order’d this for me. 
 
 A woman, to live my life out 
 In quiet, womanly ways, 
 
 Hearing the far-off battle, 
 
 Seeing as through a haze 
 The crowding, struggling world of men fight 
 through their busy days. 
 
 I am not strong or valiant, 
 
 I would not join the fight, 
 
 Or jostle with men in the highways. 
 
 Or stain my garments white ; 
 
 But I have rights as a woman, and here I 
 claim my right: 
 
 The right of a rose to blossom 
 In its own sweet, separate way, 
 
 With none to question the perfumed pink. 
 And none to utter a nay, 
 
 That it reaches a root, or points a thorn, as even 
 a rose-tree may. 
 
 The right of the lady birch to grow— 
 
 To grow as the Lord shall please, 
 
 WOMAN 
 
 By never a sturdy oak rebuked, 
 
 Denied nor sun nor breeze, 
 
 For all its pliant slenderness kin to the stronger 
 trees. 
 
 The right to a life of my own; 
 
 Not merely a casual bit 
 
 Of somebody else’s life flung out, 
 
 That, taking hold of it, 
 
 I may stand as a cipher does after a numeral 
 writ. 
 
 The right to gather and glear. 
 
 What food I need and can, 
 
 From the garner’d stores of knowledge, 
 
 Which man has heap’d for man, 
 
 Taking with free hands freely, and after an 
 order’d plan. 
 
 The right—ah ! best and sweetest— 
 
 To stand all undismay’d, 
 
 Wherever pain or sorrow or sin 
 Call for a woman’s aid, 
 
 With none to cavil or misconstrue, by never a 
 look gainsay’d. 
 
 I do not beg for a ballot, 
 
 Though very life were at stake ; 
 
 I would beg for the noble, juster way— 
 
 That men, for manhood’s sake. 
 
 Should give ungrudging, and not withhold 
 Till I must fight and take. 
 
 The fleet foot and the feeble foot 
 Both seek the self-same goal; 
 
 The weakest soldier’s name is writ 
 On the mighty army-roll : 
 
 And God, who made man’s body strong, made 
 also the woman’s soul.— Susan Coolulge. 
 
 3545. WOMAN : her vengeance. 
 
 I AM a woman ! nay, a woman wrong d ! 
 
 And when our sex from injuries take fire, 
 
 Our softness turns to fury, and our thoughts 
 
 Breathe vengeance and destruction.— Savage. 
 
 Not even the soldier’s fury, raised in war, 
 
 The rage of tyrants, when defiance stings ’em ! 
 
 The pride of priests, so bloody when in power ! 
 
 Are half so dreadful as a woman’s vengeance. 
 
 Savage. 
 
 3546. WOMAN. Kindness of 
 
 Man may the sterner virtues know. 
 
 Determined justice, truth severe ; 
 
 But female hearts with pity glow, 
 
 And woman holds affliction dear : 
 
 For guiltless woes her sorrows flow, 
 
 And suffering vice compels her tear ;— 
 
WOMAN 
 
 684 
 
 WOMAN 
 
 ’Tis hers to soothe the ills below, 
 
 And bid life’s fairer views appear. 
 
 To woman’s gentle kind we owe 
 
 What comforts and delights us here : 
 
 They its gay hopes on youth bestow, 
 
 And care they soothe, and age they cheer. 
 
 Crabbe. 
 
 O woman ! in our hours of ease, 
 
 Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, 
 
 And variable as the shade 
 
 By the light quivering aspen made ; 
 
 When pain and anguish wring the brow, 
 
 A ministering angel thou !— Scott. 
 
 3547. WOMAN. Man’s need of 
 
 O Woman ! Woman ! thou art form’d to bless 
 The heart of restless man, to chase his care, 
 
 And charm existence by thy loveliness ; 
 
 Bright as the sunbeam, as the morning fair. 
 
 If but thy foot fall on a wilderness, 
 
 Flowers spring, and shed their roseate blossoms 
 there, 
 
 Shrouding the thorns that on thy pathway rise, 
 
 And scattering o’er it hues of Paradise. 
 
 Thy voice of love is music to the ear, 
 
 Soothing and soft, and gentle as the stream 
 That strays ’mid summer flowers ; thy glittering tear 
 Is mutely eloquent; thy smile a beam 
 ■Of light ineffable, so sweet, so dear, 
 
 It wakes the heart from sorrow’s darkest dream, 
 Shedding a hallow’d lustre o’er our fate, 
 
 And when it beams we are not desolate.— Bird. 
 
 Ah, woman ! in this world of ours, 
 
 What boon can be compared to thee ? 
 
 How slow would drag life’s weary hours, 
 
 Though man’s proud brow were bound with 
 flowers, 
 
 And his the wealth of land and sea, 
 
 If destined to exist alone 
 
 And ne’er call woman’s heart his own ! 
 
 My mother ! at that holy name 
 Within my bosom there’s a gush 
 Of feeling, which no time can tame,— 
 
 A feeling, which for years of fame 
 I would not, could not crush ; 
 
 And, sisters ! ye are dear as life : 
 
 But when I look upon my wife, 
 
 My heart-blood gives a sudden rush, 
 
 And all my fond affections blend 
 In mother, sister, wife, and friend. 
 
 Yes, woman’s love is free from guile, 
 
 And pure as bright Aurora’s ray ; 
 
 The heart will melt before her smile, 
 
 And base-born passions fade away. 
 
 Were I the monarch of the earth, 
 
 Or master of the swelling sea, 
 
 I would not estimate their worth, 
 
 Dear woman ! half the price of thee. 
 
 P. Morris. 
 
 And say, without our hopes, without our fears, 
 Without the home that plighted love endears, _ 
 Without the smile from partial beauty won. 
 
 Oh ! what were man ?—a world without a sun. 
 
 Campbell. 
 
 Woman’s warm heart and gentle hand, in God’s 
 eternal plan, 
 
 Were form’d to soften, soothe, refine, exalt, and 
 comfort man, 
 
 And win from pleasure’s poison cup to life’s pure 
 fount above, 
 
 And rule him as the angels rule, by deeds of peace 
 and love.— Sarah J. Hale. 
 
 3548. WOMAN : not inferior to man. 
 
 What highest prize hath woman won 
 In science or in ait? 
 
 What mightiest work by woman done, 
 
 Boasts city, field, or mart ? 
 
 * She hath no Raphael,’ Painting saith ; 
 
 ‘ No Newton,’ Learning cries; 
 
 Show us her Steam-ship ! her Macbeth ! 
 
 Her thought-won victories ! 
 
 Hail, boastful man ! though worthy are 
 Thy deeds when thou art true, 
 
 Things worthier still and holier far 
 Our sister yet will do ; 
 
 For this the worth of woman shows, 
 
 On every peopled shore, 
 
 That still as man in wisdom grows, 
 
 He honours her the more. 
 
 Oh ! not for wealth, or fame, or power, 
 
 Hath man’s weak angel striven, 
 
 But silent as the growing flower, 
 
 To make of earth a heaven ! 
 
 And in her garden of the sun 
 
 Heaven’s brightest rose shall bloom •, 
 
 For woman’s best is unbegun ! 
 
 Her advent yet to come.— Ebenezer Elliott. 
 
 3549. WOMAN : often wronged. 
 
 Oh, wretched woman ! oh, defenceless sex ! 
 
 Of the whole animated race most helpless. 
 
 We purchase slavery with wealth and honours ; 
 And when we take a husband, buy a tyrant, 
 
WOMAN 
 
 685 
 
 WOMEN 
 
 A stern domestic foe, morose, unjust, 
 
 Bound by no law himself, and yet demanding 
 
 A strict obedience from the frail and weak. 
 
 C. Johns 071. 
 
 Oh, woman ! how thy truest word is slighted ! 
 
 Thy tenderness how often met with hate ! 
 
 Thy fondest, purest hopes, how often blighted ! 
 
 How man, the tyrant, lords it o’er thy fate— 
 
 Yet feigns for thy benign behests to wait! 
 
 How jealously he guards thy faithfulness, 
 
 And forms a censure on thy every state ! 
 
 Thomas Cooper. 
 
 3550. WOMAN. Pope on 
 
 By custom doom’d to folly, sloth, and ease, 
 
 No wonder Pope such female triflers sees; 
 
 Nor, would the satirist confess the truth. 
 
 Nothing so like as male and female youth ; 
 
 Nothing so like as man and woman old,— 
 
 Their joys, their woes, their hates, if truly told : 
 Though different acts seem different sexes’ growth, 
 ’Tis the same principle impels them both. 
 
 Anne Howard, Viscountess Irwin : Answer to Popes 
 Characters of Women. 
 
 3551. WOMAN. Power of 
 
 When a world of men 
 Could not prevail with all their oratory. 
 
 Yet hath a woman’s kindness overruled. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 3552. WOMAN. Record of 
 
 Warriors and statesmen have their meed of praise, 
 And what they do or suffer, men record ; 
 
 But the long sacrifice of woman’s days 
 
 Passes without a thought, without a word ; 
 
 And many a lofty struggle foi the sake 
 Of duties sternly, faithfully fulfill’d, 
 
 For which the anxious mind must watch and wake, 
 And the strong feelings of the heart be still d 
 Goes by unheeded as the summer wind, 
 
 And leaves no memory and no trace behind ! 
 
 Yet, it may be, more lofty courage dwells 
 
 In one meek heart which braves an adverse fate, 
 Than his whose ardent soul indignant swells, 
 
 Warm’d by the fight, or cheer’d through high de¬ 
 bate. 
 
 The soldier dies surrounded : could he live 
 
 Alone to suffer, and alone to strive ? 
 
 Caroline E. Norton. 
 
 3553 - WOMAN : the best of God’s works. 
 
 O fairest of ci'eation ! last and best 
 Of all God's works ! creature in whom excels 
 Whatever can to sight or thought be form’d 
 Holy, divine, good, amiable, or sweet .—Milton. 
 
 3554. WOMAN: the end of her beihg. 
 
 A YOUNG maiden’s heart 
 Is a rich soil, wherein lie many germs, 
 
 Hid by the cunning hand of nature there 
 To put forth blossoms in their fittest season ; 
 
 And though the love of home first breaks the soil. 
 With its embracing tendrils clasping it, 
 
 Other affections, strong and warm, will grow, 
 While that one fades, as summer’s flush of bloom 
 Succeeds the gentle budding of the spring. 
 
 Maids must be wives, and mothers, to fulfil 
 The entire and holiest end of woman’s being. 
 
 Frances Anne Kemble Butler. 
 
 3555. WOMAN. True reasons for loving 
 
 He that loves a rosy cheek, 
 
 Or a coral lip admires, 
 
 Or from starlike eyes doth seek 
 Fuel to maintain his fires ; 
 
 As old Time makes these decay, 
 
 So his flames must waste away. 
 
 But a smooth and steadfast mind, 
 
 Gentle thoughts and calm desires, 
 
 Hearts with equal love combined, 
 
 Kindle never-dying fires. 
 
 Where these are not, I despise 
 Lovely cheeks, or lips, or eyes. Caieiv. 
 
 3556. WOMEN. Diversions for 
 
 Lemira’s sick ; make haste ; the doctor call: 
 
 He comes ; but where’s his patient ? at the ball. 
 
 The doctor stares ; her woman curtsies low, 
 
 And cries, ‘ My lady, sir, is always so : 
 
 Diversions put her maladies to flight: 
 
 True, she can’t stand, but she can dance all night: 
 I’ve known my lady (for she loves a tune) 
 
 For fevers take an opera in June; 
 
 And though perhaps you’ll think the practice boal, 
 A midnight park is sovereign for a cold : 
 
 With colics, breakfasts of green fruit agree ; 
 
 With indigestions, supper just at three.’ 
 
 A strange alternative, replies Sir Hans, 
 
 Must women have a doctor or a dance ? 
 
 Though sick to death, abroad they safely roam, 
 
 But droop and die, in perfect health, at home: 
 
 For want—but not of health—are ladies ill ; 
 
 And tickets cure beyond the doctor’s pill. Young. 
 
 3557. WOMEN. Pictures of wise and good 
 
 On! blest with temper whose unclouded ray 
 Gan make to-morrow cheerful as to-day ; 
 
 She who can own a sister s charms, 01 hear 
 Sighs for a daughter with unwounded ear; 
 
WOMEN 
 
 636 
 
 WORDS 
 
 That never answers till a husband cools, 
 
 Or, if she rules him, never shows she rules ; 
 Charms by accepting, by submitting sways, 
 
 Yet has her humour most when she obeys ; 
 
 Lets fops or fortune fly which way they will!; 
 Disdains all loss of tickets or quadrille; 
 
 Spleen, vapours, or small-pox—above them all; 
 And mistress of herself, though china fall. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 She was a phantom of delight 
 "When first she gleam’d upon my sight; 
 
 A lovely apparition, sent 
 To be a moment’s ornament; 
 
 Her eyes as stars of twilight fair, 
 
 Like twilight’s, too, her dusky hair ; 
 
 But all things else about her drawn 
 From May-time and the cheerful dawn ; 
 
 A dainty shape, an image gay, 
 
 To haunt, to startle, and waylay. 
 
 I saw her, upon nearer view, 
 
 A spirit, yet a woman too ! 
 
 Her household motions light and free, 
 
 And steps of virgin liberty ; 
 
 A countenance in which did meet 
 Sweet records, promises as sweet ; 
 
 A creature not too bright or good 
 For human nature’s daily food, 
 
 For transient sorrows, simple wiles, 
 
 Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles. 
 
 And now I see, with eye serene, 
 
 The very pulse of the machine; 
 
 A being breathing thoughtful breath, 
 
 A traveller betwixt life and death ; 
 
 The reason firm, the temperate will, 
 Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill; > 
 
 A perfect woman, nobly plann’d, 
 
 To warn, to comfort, and command ; 
 
 And yet a spirit still and bright, 
 
 YVith something of an angel-light. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 Oh, beautiful as Morning in those hours 
 When, as her pathway lies along the hills, 
 
 Her golden fingers wake the dewy flowers, 
 
 And softly touch the waters of the rills, 
 
 Was she who walk’d more faintly day by day, 
 
 Till silently she perish’d by the way. 
 
 It was not hers to know that perfect heaven 
 Of passionate love return’d by love as deep ; 
 
 Not hers to sing the cradle-song at even, 
 
 Watching the beauty of her babe asleep ; 
 
 ‘ Mother and brethren ’—these she had not known, 
 Save such as do the Father’s will alone. 
 
 Yet found she something still for which to live,— 
 Hearths desolate, where angel-like she came, 
 
 And ‘ little ones ’ to whom her hand could give 
 A cup of water in her Master’s name ; 
 
 And breaking hearts to bind away from death 
 With the soft hand of pitying love and faith. 
 
 Phcebe Cary. 
 
 3558. WORDS : can never be recalled. 
 
 What you keep by you, you may change and mend; 
 But words once spoke can never be recall’d. 
 
 Roscommon. 
 
 Words have wings, and as soon as their cage, the 
 Mouth, is open’d, out they fly, and mount beyond 
 Our reach and past recovery : like lightning, 
 
 They can’t be stopt, but break their passage through 
 The smallest crannies, and penetrate 
 Sometimes the thickest walls : their nature’s as 
 Expansive as the light.— Nevile. 
 
 3559. WORDS. Effect of 
 
 Oh, many a shaft at random sent 
 Finds mark the archer little meant; 
 
 And many a word at random spoken 
 May soothe or wound a heart that’s broken. 
 
 Scott. 
 
 But words are things, and a small drop of ink, 
 Falling, like dew, upon a thought, produces 
 That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, 
 think. — Byron. 
 
 1 
 
 Words are mighty, words are living, 
 
 Serpents with their venomous stings. 
 
 Or bright angels, crowding round us 
 With heaven’s light upon their wings. 
 
 Every word has its own spirit. 
 
 True or false, that never dies ; 
 
 Every word man’s lips have utter’d 
 Echoes in God’s skies. 
 
 I have known a spirit, calmer 
 
 Than the calmest lake, and clear 1 
 As the heavens that gazed upon it. 
 
 With no wave of hope or fear; 
 
 But a storm had swept across it, 
 
 And its deepest depths were stirr’d 
 (Never, never more to slumber), 
 
 Only by a word.— Adelaide A. Procter. 
 
 It was but a little word, 
 
 Yet it took wings, 
 
 Like unto living things, 
 
 And flew away; 
 
 But one dark day, 
 
WORDS 
 
 63 7 
 
 WORDS 
 
 And when, with tears of wonder, she 
 Look’d up into my face, 
 
 I coldly turn’d away mine eyes, 
 
 Avoiding her embrace : 
 
 Idly I spake of idle doubts, 
 
 And many an idle thing : 
 
 Ah me ! how much of misery 
 From idle words may spring ! 
 
 ’Twas over soon, the cause,—not soon 
 The sad effects pass’d by ; 
 
 They rule beneath the winter’s sun, 
 
 And ’neath the summer’s sky ! 
 
 I sought forgiveness,—she forgave, 
 
 But kept the lurking sting : 
 
 Alas ! how much of misery 
 From idle words may spring ! 
 
 Month after month, year after year, 
 
 I strove to win again 
 
 The heart an idle word had lost, 
 
 But strove, alas 1 in vain. 
 
 Oh ! ye who love, beware lest thorns 
 Across Love’s path ye fling : 
 
 Ye little know w r hat misery 
 From idle words may spring. 
 
 Major Calder Campbell. 
 
 3560. WORDS. Eloquent 
 
 That glorious burst of winged wcrds!—how bound 
 they from his tongue ! 
 
 The full expression of the mighty thought, the 
 -• strong, triumphant argument, 
 
 The rush of native eloquence, resistless as Niagara, 
 
 The keen demand, the clear reply, the fine, poetic 
 image, 
 
 The nice analogy, the clinching fact, the metaphor 
 bold and free. 
 
 The grasp of concentrated intellect wielding the om¬ 
 nipotence of truth. — Tupper. 
 
 Mid gloomy clouds and rain, 
 
 The ‘ word 5 came back again 
 Like any bird. 
 
 Came back to trouble me; 
 
 But not alone; 
 
 My winged word had grown 
 Into a sentence, 
 
 And brought repentance 
 For a spoken thought 
 That had but wrought 
 hie misery. 
 
 Words are like thistle-seed ; 
 
 Mind what you sow, 
 
 And where your blossoms grow. 
 
 When once they’ve flown 
 On wings of down, 
 
 Across the fertile field, 
 
 A harvest they will yield : 
 
 The warning heed !— M. A. Kidder. 
 
 The cruel and the bitter word. 
 
 That wounded as it fell, 
 
 The chilling want of sympathy. 
 
 We feel, but never tell, 
 
 The hard repulse that chills the heart 
 Whose hopes were bounding high,— 
 In an unfading record kept, 
 
 These things shall never die. 
 
 Let nothing pass ; for every hand 
 Must find some work to do ; 
 
 Lose not a chance to waken love ; 
 
 Be firm, and just, and true. 
 
 So shall a light that cannot fade 
 Beam on thee from on high, 
 
 And angel voices say to thee, 
 
 ‘ These things shall never die ! ’ 
 
 All the Year Round. 
 
 The strongest love hath yet, at times, 
 
 A weakness in its power ; 
 
 And latent sickness often sends 
 The madness of an hour ! 
 
 To her I loved, in bitterness 
 I said a cruel thing: 
 
 Ah me ! how much of misery 
 From idle words may spring ! 
 
 I loved her then—I love her still; 
 
 But there was in my blood 
 A growing fever, that did give 
 Its frenzy to my mood ; 
 
 I sneer’d because another’s sneers 
 Had power my heart to wring : 
 
 Ah me ! how much of misery 
 From idle words may spring ! 
 
 3561. WORDS : expressions of thought. 
 
 Words are the soul’s embassadors, who go 
 Abroad upon her errands to and fro ; 
 
 They are the sole expounders of the mind. 
 
 And correspondence keep ’twixt all mankind. 
 They are those airy keys that ope (and wrest 
 Sometimes) the locks and hinges of the breast. 
 By them the heart makes sallies : wit and sense 
 Belong to them : they are the quintessence 
 Of those ideas which the thoughts distil. 
 
 And so calcine and melt again, until 
 They drop forth into accents ; in whom lies 
 The salt of fancy, and all faculties.— Howell. 
 
WORDS 
 
 688 
 
 WORK 
 
 Words are the notes of thought, and nothing more. 
 Words are like sea-shells on the shore : they show 
 Where the mind ends, and not how far it has been. 
 Let every thought, too, soldier-like, be stripp’d, 
 
 And roughly looked over.— Bailey. 
 
 A mist of words, 
 
 Like haloes round the moon, though they enlarge 
 The seeming size of thoughts, make the light less 
 doubly. 
 
 It is the thought writ down we want, 
 
 Not its effect,—not likenesses of likenesses ; 
 
 And such descriptions are not, more than gloves 
 Instead of hands to shake, enough for us.— Bailey. 
 
 3562. WORDS. Kind 
 
 Nay, speak no ill ; a kindly word 
 Can never leave a sting behind ; 
 
 And, oh, to breathe each tale we've heard 
 Is far beneath a noble mind ; 
 
 For oft a better seed is sown 
 
 By choosing thus a kinder plan ; 
 
 For if but little good we've known, 
 
 Let’s speak of all the good we can. 
 
 Give me the heart that fain would hide. 
 Would fain another’s fault efface : 
 
 How can it please our human pride 
 To prove humanity but base ? 
 
 No ! let it reach a higher mode, 
 
 A nobler estimate of man : 
 
 Be earnest in the search of good, 
 
 And speak of all the best we can. 
 
 False eloquence, like the prismatic glass, 
 
 Its gaudy colours spreads on every place ; 
 
 The face of nature we no more survey. 
 
 All glares alike, without distinction gay ; 
 
 But true expression, like the unchanging sun, 
 
 Clears and improves whate’er it shines upon ; 
 
 It gilds all objects, but it alters none. 
 
 Expression is the dress of thought, and still 
 Appears more decent as more suitable: 
 
 A vile conceit in pompous words express’d, 
 
 ! Is like a clown in regal purple dress’d : 
 
 For different styles with different subjects sort, 
 
 As several garbs, with country, town, and court. 
 
 In words, as fashions, the same rule will hold j 
 Alike fantastic, if too new or old : 
 
 Be not the first by whom the new are tried, 
 
 Nor yet the last to lay the old aside.— Pope. 
 
 3565. WORDS. Weakness of 
 
 Where deeds pull down, words can repair no faith. 
 
 Chapman. 
 
 3566. WORK. Blessedness of 
 
 Danger lies in idly living, 
 
 Health in labour freely done ; 
 
 Sweat of toil is honour-giving 
 To the brow, at set of sun. 
 
 Know’st thou not, whate’er the ending. 
 Whether failure or success, 
 
 That God’s favour, still attending, 
 
 All good deeds of thine will bless ? 
 
 Spitta. 
 
 Then speak no ill, but lenient be 
 To others’ feelings as your own ; 
 
 If you’re the first a fault to see, 
 
 Be not the first to make it known. 
 
 For life is but a passing flood ; 
 
 No lip can tell how brief the stay : 
 
 Be earnest in the search of good, 
 
 And speak of all the best we may. 
 
 3563. WORDS: real character. 
 
 ’Tis only man can words create, 
 
 And cut the air to sounds articulate 
 By nature’s special charter. Nay, speech can 
 Make a shrewd discrepance ’twixt man and man : 
 It doth the gentleman from clown discover; 
 
 And from a fool the grave philosopher ; 
 
 As Solon said to one in judgment weak, 
 
 I thought thee wise until I heard thee speak. 
 
 James Howel. 
 
 3564. WORDS. Use of 
 
 Words are like leaves; and where they most 
 abound, 
 
 Much fruit of sense beneath is rarely found. 
 
 3567. WORK. Christian 
 
 In His furrow’d fields around us 
 God has work for all who will: 
 
 Those who may not scatter broadcast, 
 
 Yet may plant it hill by hill. 
 
 Yearning hearts are often near us, 
 
 Conscious of their spirit-need : 
 
 These are hills prepared by Heaven 
 To receive the precious seed. 
 
 Shall we find these hills, and plant them? 
 Shall we scatter when we may ? 
 
 Or with idle hands stand waiting 
 Till the seed-time pass away ? 
 
 Glory waits the faithful workmen 
 Who perform their Master’s will : 
 
 Then, O Christians ! will ye weary 
 Of this planting hill by hill ? 
 
 Soon life’s spring-time will be over, 
 
 And its autumn days will come : 
 
 Happy then will be those workmen 
 
 Who have sheaves to carry home.— Allis. 
 
WORK 
 
 689 
 
 WORKERS 
 
 3568. WORK. Hopeless 
 
 All nature seems at work. Slugs leave their lair, 
 The bees are stirring, birds are on the wing, 
 
 And winter, slumbering in the open air, 
 
 Wears on his smiling face a dream of spring ; 
 
 And I, the while, the sole unbusy thing, 
 
 Nor honey make, nor pair, nor build, nor sing. 
 
 Yet well I ken the banks where amaranths blow, 
 Have traced the fount whence streams of nectar flow. 
 Bloom, O ye amaranths ! bloom for whom ye may, 
 For me ye bloom not! Glide, rich streams, away ! 
 With lips unbrighten’d, wreathless brow, I stroll. 
 And would you learn the spells that drowse my soul ? 
 Work without hope draws nectar in a sieve, 
 
 And hope, without an object cannot live.— Coleridge. 
 
 3569. WORK : necessary as well as prayer. 
 
 One pleasant spring morning on nothing intent, 
 
 But following fancy wherever it went, 
 
 As clang of an anvil rang out on the air 
 I paused by a smithy, smoke-blacken’d, and where 
 The brawny-arm’d blacksmith, with blows fast and 
 strong, 
 
 Was pounding out horse - shoes and singing this 
 song:— 
 
 ‘Bread and butter, potatoes and meat, 
 
 Shoes and stockings for six little feet; 
 
 House and home from mortgages free, 
 
 Come, old anvil, give these to me.’ 
 
 And the ring of the anvil seem’d to say:— 
 
 ‘ ’Tis wisdom to work as well as to pray; 
 
 And prayer that comes with work at its side 
 Is never in heaven or earth denied.’ 
 
 And the blows fell faster and faster still, 
 
 And the sparks flew farther and farther, till, 
 
 Like rainbow of fire, the very air 
 Seem’d full of promise to hear the prayer. 
 
 The music of hammer and words of song 
 Rang out in the morning air hearty and strong ; 
 Keeping time together,—the arm that swung 
 The hammer to strike, and the heart that sung,— 
 And neither was still a moment before 
 The smoking horse-shoe roll’d on the floor. 
 
 Mid shower of fire and rain of sweat 
 The brawny blacksmith is toiling yet; 
 
 But he taught a lesson for all, that day, 
 
 I low to work with the hammer as well as to pray. 
 
 Lev eric h . 
 
 3570. WORK : universal. 
 
 No gain, but by its price ; labour, for the poor man’s 
 meal, 
 
 Ofttimes heart-sickening toil, to win him a morsel 
 for his hunger; 
 
 Labour, for the chapman at his trade, a dull, un¬ 
 varied round, 
 
 Year after year, unto death ; yea, what a weariness 
 is it! 
 
 Labour, for the pale-faced scribe, drudging at his 
 hated desk, 
 
 Who bartereth for needful pittance the untold gold 
 of health ; 
 
 Labour, with fear, for the merchant, whose hopes 
 are ventured on the sea ; 
 
 Labour, with care, for the man of law, responsible 
 in his gains; 
 
 Labour, with envy and annoyance, where strangers 
 w'ill thee wealth ; 
 
 Labour, with indolence and gloom, where wealth 
 falleth from a father ; 
 
 Labour, unto all, whether aching thews, or aching 
 head, or spirit— 
 
 The curse on the sons of men, in all their states, is 
 labour. 
 
 Nevertheless, to the diligent, labour bringeth bless¬ 
 ing : 
 
 The thought of duty sweeteneth toil, and travail is a 
 pleasure; 
 
 And time spent in doing hath a comfort that is not 
 for the idle ; 
 
 The hardship is transmuted into joy, by the dear 
 alchemy of mercy ; 
 
 Labour is good for a man, bracing up his energies to 
 conquest, 
 
 And without it life is dull, the man perceiving himself 
 useless; 
 
 For wearily the body groaneth, like a door on rusty 
 hinges. 
 
 And the grasp of the mind is weaken’d, as the talons 
 of a caged vulture. — Tuppcr. 
 
 3571. WORKERS. Encouragement for Chris¬ 
 tian 
 
 Sow in the morn thy seed, 
 
 At eve hold not thine hand ; 
 
 To doubt and fear give thou no heed,— 
 Broad-cast it o’er the land. 
 
 Beside all waters sow, 
 
 The highway furrows stock ; 
 
 Drop it where thorns and thistles grow, 
 Scatter it on the rock. 
 
 The good, the fruitful ground, 
 
 Expect not everywhere ; 
 
 O’er hill and dale, by plots, ’tis found; 
 
 Go forth then everywhere. 
 
 Thou know’st not which may thrive, 
 
 The late or early sown ; 
 
 44 
 
WORLD 
 
 690 
 
 WORLD 
 
 Grace keeps the precious germ alive. 
 
 When and wherever strown ; 
 
 And duly shall appear, 
 
 In verdure, beauty, strength, 
 
 The tender blade, the stalk, the ear. 
 
 And the full corn at length. 
 
 Thou canst not toil in vain ; 
 
 Cold, heat, and moist, and dry, 
 
 Shall foster and mature the grain. 
 
 For garners in the sky. 
 
 Thence, when the glorious end, 
 
 Tire day of God is come, 
 
 The angel reapers shall descend, 
 
 And Heaven cry, ‘ Harvest home.’ 
 
 Montgomery. 
 
 3572. WORLD : a masquerade. 
 
 The world is a great dance, in which we find 
 The good and bad have various turns assign’d ; 
 
 But when they’ve ended the great masquerade. 
 
 One goes to glory, the other to a shade.— Crcmone. 
 
 3573. WORLD: accursed. 
 
 ’Tis the most certain sign the world’s accurst, 
 
 That the best things corrupted are the worst. 
 
 Denham. 
 
 3574. WORLD. Beauty of the 
 
 When God the new-made world survey’d. 
 
 His word pronounced the building good ; 
 Sunbeams and light the heavens array’d, 
 
 And the whole earth was crown’d with food. 
 
 Colours that charm and ease the eye, 
 
 His pencil spread all nature round ; 
 
 With pleasing blue He arch’d the sky, 
 
 And a green carpet dress'd the ground. 
 
 Let envious atheists ne’er complain 
 That Nature wants or skill or care ; 
 
 But turn their eyes all round in vain, 
 
 To avoid their Maker’s goodness there. 
 
 Watts. 
 
 Beautiful! 
 
 Flow beautiful is all this visible world ! 
 
 How glorious in its action and itself! 
 
 But we who name ourselves its sovereigns, we, 
 Half dust, half deity, alike unfit 
 To sink or soar, with our mix’d essence make 
 A conflict of its elements, and breathe 
 The breath of degradation and of pride, 
 Contending with low wants and lofty will, 
 
 Till our mortality predominates, 
 
 And men are—what they name not to themselves, 
 And trust not to each other.— Byron. 
 
 O ! it is beautiful to see this world, 
 
 Poised in the crystal air, with all its seas, 
 
 Mountains, and plains, majestically rolling 
 Around its noiseless axis, day by day, 
 
 And year by year, and century after century ; 
 
 And as it turns, still wheeling through the immense 
 Of ether, circling the resplendent sun 
 In calm and simple grandeur.— Atherstone. 
 
 Look on this beautiful world, and read the truth 
 In her fair page ; see, every season brings 
 New change to her, of everlasting youth ; 
 
 Still the green soil with joyous living things 
 Swarms, the wide air is full of joyous wings. 
 
 And myriads still are happy in the sleep 
 Of ocean’s azure gulfs.— Bryant. 
 
 God’s world is bathed in beauty, 
 
 God’s world is steep’d in light; 
 
 It is the self-same glory 
 
 That makes the day so bright, 
 
 Which thrills the earth with music. 
 
 Or hangs the stars in night. 
 
 Hid in earth’s mines of silver. 
 
 Floating on clouds above, 
 
 Ringing in autumn’s tempest, 
 
 Murmur’d by every dove, 
 
 One thought fills God’s creation— 
 
 His own great name of Love ! 
 
 In God’s world strength is lovely. 
 
 And so is beauty strong. 
 
 And light—God’s glorious shadow— 
 
 To both great gifts belong ; 
 
 And they all meet in sweetness. 
 
 And fill the earth with song. 
 
 God’s world has one great echo. 
 
 Whether calm blue mists are curl’d. 
 
 Or lingering dew-drops quiver, 
 
 Or red storms are unfurl’d ; 
 
 The same deep love is throbbing 
 
 Through the great heart of God’s world. 
 
 3575 - WORLD. Different views of the 
 
 ’Tis a very good world that we live in 
 To lend, or to spend, or to give in ; 
 
 But to borrow or beg, or get a man’s own, 
 
 ’Tis the very worst world, sir, that ever was known. 
 
 Old Song. 
 
 I’ve tried this world in all its changes. 
 
 States, and conditions ; have been great and happy, 
 Wretched and low, and pass’d through all its stages. 
 And oh ! believe me, who have known it best, 
 
 It is not worth the bustle that it costs; 
 
 ’Tis but a medley, all of idle hopes. 
 
 And abject childish fears.— Madden. 
 
WORLD 
 
 691 
 
 WORLD 
 
 Ah, world unknown ! how charming is thy view, 
 Thy pleasures many, and each pleasure new ! 
 
 Ah, world experienced ! what of thee is told ? 
 How few thy pleasures, and those few how old ! 
 
 Crabbe. 
 
 Talk who will of the world as a desert of thrall, 
 
 Yet, yet there is bloom on the waste ; 
 
 Though the chalice of life hath its acid and gall, 
 There are honey-drops, too, for the taste. 
 
 We murmur and droop should a sorrow-cloud stay, 
 And note all the shades of our lot; 
 
 But the rich rays of sunshine that brighten our way, 
 Are bask’d in, enjoy’d, and forgot. 
 
 Those who look on mortality’s ocean aright, 
 
 Will not mourn o’er each billow that rolls ; 
 
 But dwell on the beauties, the glories, the might. 
 
 As much as the shipwrecks and shoals. 
 
 Eliza Cook. 
 
 3576. WORLD. False confidence of the 
 
 Let the world be told 
 She boasts a confidence she does not hold ; 
 
 That, conscious of her crimes, she feels instead 
 A cold misgiving and a killing dread ; 
 
 That while in health the ground of her support 
 Is madly to forget that life is short; 
 
 That sick she trembles, knowing she must die. 
 
 Her hope presumption, and her faith a lie. 
 
 Covoper. 
 
 3577. WORLD. Flavour of the 
 
 In Shiraz grows a tree, within the Sultan’s bower, 
 Which bears an apple one-half sweet, and one-half 
 sour. 
 
 Ah ! such an apple is the world. How sweet it 
 tastes 
 
 In joy ! how sour when turning round to grief it 
 hastes.— Oriental , tr. by W. R. Alger. 
 
 35 78. WORLD. Freedom from the 
 
 When the world’s up, and every swarm abroad. 
 Keep well thy temper, mix not with each fray ; 
 Despatch necessities ; life hath a load 
 
 Which must be carried on, and safely may ; 
 
 Yet keep those cares without thee : let the heart 
 Be God’s alone, and choose the better part. 
 
 Vaughan. 
 
 Leave behind earth’s empty pleasure, 
 
 Fleeting hope, and changeful love ; 
 
 Leave its soon-corroding treasure : 
 
 There are better things above. 
 
 Leave, ah, leave thy fond aspirings,' 
 
 Bid thy restless heart be still; 
 
 Cease, oh, cease thy vain desirings, 
 
 Only seek thy Father’s will. 
 
 Leave behind thy faithless sorrow 
 And thine every anxious care : 
 
 He who only knows the morrow 
 Can for thee its burden bear. 
 
 Frances Ridley Haver gal. 
 
 3579. WORLD : full of peril. 
 
 Alas ! the world is full of peril! 
 
 The path that runs through the fairest meads, 
 On the sunniest side of the valley, leads 
 Into a region bleak and sterile !— Longfellovj. 
 
 3580. WORLD : hollow. 
 
 The world is just as hollow as an egg-shell; 
 It is a surface, not a solid round ; 
 
 And all this boasted knowledge of the world 
 To me seems but to mean acquaintance with 
 Low things, or evil, or indifferent.— Bailey. 
 
 3581. WORLD : illusory. 
 
 Blinded in youth by Satan’s arts, 
 
 The world to our unpractised hearts 
 A flattering prospect shows ; 
 
 Our fancy forms a thousand schemes 
 Of gay delights, and golden dreams. 
 
 And undisturb’d repose. 
 
 So in the desert’s dreary waste, 
 
 By magic power produced in haste 
 (As ancient fables say), 
 
 Castles, and groves, and music sweet, 
 
 The senses of the traveller meet, 
 
 And stop him in his way. 
 
 But while he listens with surprise, 
 
 The charm dissolves, the vision dies ; 
 
 ’Twas but enchanted ground : 
 
 Thus, if the Lord our spirit touch, 
 
 The w r orld, which promised us so much, 
 
 A wilderness is found. 
 
 At first we start, and feel distress’d, 
 Convinced we never can have rest 
 In such a wretched place ; 
 
 But He whose mercy breaks the charm 
 Reveals His own almighty arm, 
 
 And bids us seek His face. 
 
 Then we begin to live indeed, 
 
 When, from our sin and bondage freed 
 By this beloved Friend, 
 
 We follow Him from day to day, 
 
 Assured of grace through all the way, 
 
 And glory at the end.— Couper.- 
 
WORLD 
 
 692 
 
 WORLD 
 
 3582. WORLD : neither to be feared nor loved. 
 
 A PILGRIM through this lonely world, 
 
 The blessed Saviour pass’d ; 
 
 A mourner all His life was He, 
 
 A dying Lamb at last. 
 
 That tender heart that felt for all, 
 
 For all its life-blood gave ; 
 
 It found on earth no resting-place 
 Save only in the grave. 
 
 Such was our Lord,—and shall we fear 
 The cross, with all its scorn ? 
 
 Or love a faithless, evil world, 
 
 That wreath’d His brow with thorn? 
 
 No ! facing all its frowns or smiles, 
 
 Like Him obedient still, 
 
 We homeward press through storm or calm, 
 
 To Zion’s blessed hill.— Denny. 
 
 3583. WORLD. Power of the 
 
 Whence has this world her magic power ? 
 
 Why deem we death a foe, 
 
 Recoil from weary life’s best hour, 
 
 And covet longer woe ? 
 
 The cause is Conscience ? Conscience oft 
 Her tale of guilt renews ; 
 
 Her voice is terrible, though soft, 
 
 And dread of death ensues. 
 
 Then, anxious to be longer spared, 
 
 Man mourns his flying breath : 
 
 All evils then seem light, compared 
 With the approach of death. 
 
 The judgment shakes him ! there’s the fear 
 That prompts the wish to stay ! 
 
 He has incurr’d a long arrear, 
 
 And must despair to pay. 
 
 Pay ! —follow Christ, and all is paid ; 
 
 His death your peace ensures ; 
 
 Think on the grave where He was laid, 
 
 And calm descend to yours.— Cowper. 
 
 3584. WORLD. Question about the 
 
 Wiiat is the world? tell, worldling, if thou know it 
 If it be good, why do all ills o’erflow it ? 
 
 If it be bad, why dost thou like it so? 
 
 If it be sweet, how comes it bitter then ? 
 
 If it be bitter, what bewitcheth men? 
 
 If it be friend, why kills it, as a foe, 
 
 Vain-minded men that over-love and lust it ? 
 
 If it be foe, fondling, how dar’st thou trust it? 
 
 Sylvester . 
 
 3585. WORLD. Quitting the 
 
 I have not loved the world, nor the world me,— 
 But let us part fair foes : I do believe, 
 
 Though I have found them not, that there may be 
 Words which are things, hopes which will not de¬ 
 ceive, 
 
 And virtues which are merciful, nor weave 
 Snares for the failing : I would also deem 
 O’er others’ griefs that some sincerely grieve ; 
 That two, or one, are almost what they seem, 
 
 That goodness is no name, and happiness no dream. 
 
 Byron. 
 
 Good-bye, proud world ! I’m going home: 
 
 Thou’rt not my friend, and I’m not thine. 
 
 Long through thy weary crowds I roam ; 
 
 A river-ark on the ocean’s brine, 
 
 Long I’ve been toss’d like the driven foam; 
 
 But now, proud world ! I’m going home. 
 
 Good-bye to Flattery’s fawning face ; 
 
 To Grandeur, with his wise grimace ; 
 
 To upstart Wealth’s averted eye ; 
 
 To supple Office, low and high ; 
 
 To crowded halls, to court and street; 
 
 To frozen hearts and hasting feet; 
 
 To those who go, and those who come: 
 Good-bye, proud world ! I’m going home. 
 
 I’m going to my own hearth-stone, 
 
 Bosom’d in yon green hills alone,— 
 
 A secret nook in a pleasant land, 
 
 Whose groves the frolic fairies plann’d; 
 
 Where arches green, the livelong day, 
 
 Echo the blackbird’s roundelay, 
 
 And vulgar feet have never trod, — 
 
 A spot that is sacred to thought and God. 
 
 Oh, when I am safe in my sylvan home, 
 
 I tread on the pride of Greece and Rome ; 
 
 And when I am stretch’d beneath the pines. 
 Where the evening star so holy shines, 
 
 I laugh at the lore and the pride of man, 
 
 At the sophist schools, and the learned clan ; 
 
 For what are they all, in their high conceit. 
 When man in the bush with God may meet! 
 
 Emerson . 
 
 3586. WORLD. Sale of the 
 
 The world for sale ! Hang out the sign ; 
 
 Call every traveller here to me; 
 
 Who’ll buy this brave estate of mine. 
 
 And set this weary spirit free ? 
 
 ’Tis going ! yes, I mean to fling 
 The bauble from my soul away, 
 
 I’ll sell it, whatsoe’er it bring ; 
 
 The world at auction here, to-day l 
 
WORLD 
 
 693 
 
 WORLD 
 
 It is a glorious sight to see— 
 
 But, ah ! it has deceived me sore, 
 
 It is not what it seems to be. 
 
 For sale ! it shall be mine no more. 
 
 Come, turn it o’er and view it well, 
 
 I would not have you purchase dear. 
 
 ’Tis going ! going ! I must sell! 
 
 Who bids? who’ll buy the splendid tear? 
 
 Here’s wealth, in glittering heaps of gold ; 
 
 Who bids ? But let me tell you fair, 
 
 A baser lot was never sold! 
 
 Who’ll buy the heavy heaps of care? 
 
 And here, spread out in broad domain, 
 
 A goodly landscape all may trace, 
 
 Hall, cottage, tree, field, hill, and plain ; 
 Who’ll buy himself a burial-place? 
 
 Here’s Love, the dreamy potent spell 
 That Beauty flings around the heart; 
 
 I know its power, alas ! too well; 
 
 ’Tis going ! Love and I must part ! 
 
 Must part ? What can I more with Love ? 
 
 All over’s the enchanter’s reign. 
 
 Who’ll buy the plumeless, dying dove, 
 
 A breath of bliss, a storm of pain ? 
 
 And Friendship, rarest gem of earth ; 
 
 Who e’er hath found the jewel his? 
 
 Frail, fickle, false, and little worth, 
 
 Who bids for Friendship—as it is? 
 
 ’Tis going ! going ! hear the call; 
 
 Once, twice, and thrice, ’tis very low ! 
 
 ’Twas once my hope, my stay, my all, 
 
 But now the broken staff must go ! 
 
 Fame ! hold the brilliant meteor high, 
 
 How dazzling every gilded name ! 
 
 Ye millions ! now’s the time to buy. 
 
 How much for Fame? how much for Fame? 
 Hear how it thunders ! Would you stand 
 On high Olympus, far renown’d, 
 
 Now purchase, and a world command, 
 
 And be with a world’s curses crown’d. 
 
 Ambition, fashion, show, and pride, 
 
 I part from all for ever now ; 
 
 Grief, in an overwhelming tide, 
 
 Has taught my haughty heart to bow. 
 
 By Death, stern sheriff! all bereft, 
 
 I weep, yet humbly kiss the rod ; 
 
 The best of all I still have left— 
 
 My faith, my Bible, and my God !— Hoyt. 
 
 3587. WORLD. The enticing 
 
 By day she woos me, soft, exceeding fair : 
 
 But all night as the moon so changeth she ; 
 Loathsome and foul with hideous leprosy, 
 
 And subtle serpents gliding in her hair. 
 
 By day she woos me to the outer air, 
 
 Ripe fruits, sweet flowers, and full satiety : 
 
 But through the night, a beast she grins at me, 
 
 A very monster void of love and prayer. 
 
 By day she stands a lie : by night she stands, 
 
 In all the naked horror of the truth, 
 
 With pushing horns and claw’d and clutching hands. 
 Is this a friend indeed ; that I should sell 
 My soul to her, give her my life and youth, 
 
 Till my feet, cloven too, take hold on hell ? 
 
 Christina G. Rosetti. 
 
 3587a. WORLD : transient. 
 
 The flower that smiles to-day, 
 
 To-morrow dies ; 
 
 All that we wish to stay. 
 
 Tempts, and then flies : 
 
 What is this world’s delight ? 
 
 Lightning, that mocks the night, 
 
 Brief even as bright.— Shelley. 
 
 3588. WORLD : treacherous. 
 
 The world’s esteem is but a bribe : 
 
 To buy their peace you sell your own ; 
 
 The slave of a vainglorious tribe, 
 
 Who hate you while they make you known. 
 
 The joy that vain amusements give, 
 
 Oh ! sad conclusion that it brings ! 
 
 The honey of a crowded hive, 
 
 Defended by a thousand stings. 
 
 ’Tis thus the world rewards the fools 
 That live upon her treacherous smiles : 
 
 She leads them blindfold by her rules, 
 
 And ruins all whom she beguiles.— Cowper. 
 
 3589. WORLD. Vanity of the 
 
 Oh ! the world is but a word ; 
 
 Were it all yours to give it in a breath, 
 
 How quickly were it gone.— Shakespeare. 
 
 359°. WORLD. Youth of the 
 
 Who will say the world is dying? 
 
 Who will say our prime is past ? 
 
 Sparks from heaven within us lying 
 Flash, and will flash to the last. 
 
 Fools ! who fancy Christ mistaken ; 
 
 Man a tool to buy and sell; 
 
 Earth a failure, God-forsaken, 
 
 Ante-room of hell. 
 
 Still the race of hero spirits 
 
 Pass the lamp from hand to hand ; 
 
 Age from age the words inherits,— 
 
 Wife and child and fatherland. 
 
WORLDLINESS 
 
 694 
 
 WORLDS 
 
 Still the youthful hunter gathers 
 Fiery joy from wold and wood ; 
 
 He will dare as dared his fathers, 
 
 Give him cause as good. 
 
 While a slave bewails his fetters ; 
 
 While an orphan pleads in vain; 
 
 While an infant lisps his letters, 
 
 Heir of all the ages’ gain ; 
 
 While a lip grows ripe for kissing ; 
 
 While a moan from man is wrung ; 
 
 Know, by every want and blessing, 
 
 That the world is young.— C. Kingsley. 
 
 3591. WORLDLINESS. Influence of 
 
 The world is too much with us ; late and soon, 
 Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers ; 
 Little we see in nature that is ours ; 
 
 We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon ! 
 
 This sea that bares her bosom to the moon, 
 
 The winds that will be howling at all hours, 
 
 And are up-gather’d now like sleeping flowers— 
 For this, for everything, we’re out of tune ; 
 
 It moves us not. Great God ! I’d rather be 
 A pagan suckled in a creed outworn, 
 
 So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, 
 
 Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn ; 
 Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; 
 
 Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 3592. WORLDLING. Lament of the 
 
 There’s not a joy the world can give like that it 
 takes away, 
 
 When the glow of early thought declines in feeling's 
 dull decay ; 
 
 Tis not on youth’s smooth cheek the blush alone 
 which fades so fast, 
 
 But the tender bloom of heart is gone, ere youth it¬ 
 self be past. 
 
 Then the few whose spirits float above the wreck of 
 happiness 
 
 Are driven o’er the shoals of guilt or oceans oi ex¬ 
 cess : 
 
 The magnet of their course is gone, or only points in 
 vain 
 
 The shore to which their shiver’d sail shall never 
 stretch again. 
 
 Then the mortal coldness of the soul like death itself 
 comes down ; 
 
 It cannot feel for others’ woes, it dare not dream its 
 own; 
 
 That heavy chill has frozen o’er the fountain of our 
 tears, 
 
 And though the eye may sparkle still, ’tis where the 
 ice appears. 
 
 Though wit may flash from fluent lips, and mirth dis¬ 
 tract the breast, 
 
 Through midnight hours that yield no more their 
 former hope of rest, 
 
 ’Tis but as ivy-leaves around the ruin’d turret wreathe, 
 All green and wildly fresh without, but worn and 
 
 grey beneath. 
 
 O could I feel as I have felt, or be what I have been. 
 Or weep as I could once have wept o’er many a 
 vanish’d scene,— 
 
 As springs in deserts found seem sweet, all brackish 
 though they be, 
 
 So midst the wither’d waste of life, those tears would 
 flow to me !— Byron. 
 
 3593. WORLDLINGS. Ways of 
 
 Lo! here spread out the plains of heavenly light. 
 And narrow way, that ends where all is bright. 
 Behold, with globes upon the lightsome green, 
 
 To different work address’d, two men are seen. 
 With careless ease one rolls his globe along, 
 
 And follows after full of mirth and song ; 
 
 The other strives to move his world’s vast weight 
 Uphill, toward the brightly shining gate ; 
 
 He strives in vain ; the globe, though in the track, 
 Still downward tending drives him farther back : 
 And though they seem contrary roads to go, 
 
 They meet together in the vale below. 
 
 Thus some pursue an open course of sin ; 
 
 Some Christ profess, yet hold the world within ; 
 Though these appear to play a different game. 
 
 Their fate is equal, and their end the same. 
 
 W. Holmes. 
 
 3594. WORLDS. Other 
 
 Other worlds. Those planets evermore 
 On their golden orbits swiftly glide on— 
 
 From quick Hermes by the solar shore 
 To remote Poseidon. 
 
 Are they like this earth ? The glory shed 
 From the ruddy dawn’s unfading portals— 
 
 Does it fall on regions tenanted 
 
 By a race of mortals ? 
 
 Are there merry maidens, wicked-eyed, 
 
 Peeping slyly through the cottage lattice ? 
 
 Have they vintage-bearing countries wide? 
 
 Have they oyster-patties ? 
 
 Have they silent shady forest realms, 
 
 Odorous violets that in grassy nooks hide, 
 
WORSHIP 
 
 695 
 
 WORSHIP 
 
 Aged oaks and great ancestral elms 
 
 Growing by the brook-side ? 
 
 Does a mighty ocean roar and break 
 
 On dark rocks and sandy shores fantastic ? 
 
 Have they any Darwins there to make 
 Theories elastic ? 
 
 Have they landscapes that would set a flat alight 
 With their beauty ? Have they snow-neck’d clerici? 
 Poets who be-rhyme each whirling satellite ? 
 
 Dr Temple’s heresy ? 
 
 Does their weather change ? November fog— 
 Weeping April—March with many a raw gust? 
 And do thunder and demented dog 
 
 Come to them in August ? 
 
 Nineteenth-century science should unravel 
 
 All these queries, but has somehow miss’d ’em. 
 When will it be possible to travel 
 
 Through the solar system ? 
 
 Mortimer Collins. 
 
 3595. WORSHIP. Acceptable 
 
 No sacred lore, howe’er profound, 
 
 Nor all the long and varied round 
 Of sacred rites, can bliss procure 
 For worthless man, in heart impure. 
 
 Although a man with zeal and skill 
 Should all external rites fulfil, 
 
 He reaps no fruit of all his toil 
 If sin his inner man should soil. 
 
 Even he his all in alms who spends 
 With heart defiled, secures no meed : 
 
 The disposition, not the deed, 
 
 Has value—all on it depends. 
 
 Vayn Parana , viii. 190. 
 
 Two altars are uprear’d in yonder plain ; 
 
 Two worshippers with different gifts draw near ; 
 Two sacrifices are presented there, 
 
 Heaven’s merciful approval to obtain. 
 
 One brings a bloody offering, and the slain 
 
 Crimsons earth’s beauteous carpet with its gore; 
 
 A lamb—a sinless victim—there is slain ; 
 
 Such sacrifice Earth never saw before. 
 
 Upon the other altar luscious fruits, 
 
 Like incense, are in rich profusion piled, 
 
 Mix’d with earth’s ripen’d grain, its fruitful roots, 
 And gorgeous flowers, all beautiful and wild. 
 Which of these two oblations will be found 
 Most worthy—tribute from the . .ock, or from the 
 ground ? 
 
 Heaven takes the former, but the latter spurns ; 
 
 One lifts his head to heaven to thank the Giver, 
 Nor thinks to mourn his lost condition ever; 
 With Pharisaic pride his spirit burns, 
 
 But in deep penitence the other turns 
 
 His downcast eyes to earth, in sorrow bent; 
 
 He offers bleeding innocence, and yearns 
 Vicarious release from punishment. 
 
 The promised Christ to bruise the serpent’s head. 
 
 The substitute for man, is shadow’d here ; 
 
 And Heaven approves the gift—accepts the deed. 
 The principle of future trust is there. 
 
 Abel, by faith, Heaven’s favour thus obtains 
 For a more excellent sacrifice by far than Cain’s. 
 
 Churchill . 
 
 3596. WORSHIP : in what spirit it is to be 
 offered. 
 
 I. 
 
 ‘ I would my gift were worthier,’ sigh’d the Greek* 
 As on he goaded to the temple door 
 His spotted bullock : ‘ Ever of our store 
 Doth Zeus require the best. And fat and sleek 
 The ox I vow’d to him (no brindle streak, 
 
 No fleck of dun), when through the breakers’ roar 
 He bore me safe, that day, to Naxos’ shore : 
 
 And now—my gratitude—how seeming weak! 
 
 ‘ But here be chalk-pits: What if I should white 
 The blotches, hiding all unfitness so ? 
 
 The victim in the people’s eyes would show 
 Better therefor, the sacrificial rite 
 Be quicklier granted at so fair a sight, 
 
 And the great Zeus himself might never know 1 * 
 
 II. 
 
 We have a God who knows: And yet we dare. 
 
 On His consuming altar-coals, to lay 
 (Full loth the goad of conscience to obey)— 
 
 The whited sacrifice, the glossing prayer, 
 
 In place of what we vow’d—in our despair 
 Of best and holiest; glad no mortal may 
 Pierce through the cheat, and hoping half to stay 
 That eye before whose search all souls are bare. 
 
 Nay, rather let us bring the victim-heart, 
 
 Defiled, unworthy, blemish’d though it be, 
 
 And fling it on the flame, entreating : ‘ See ! 
 
 I blush to know how vile in every part 
 Is this, my gift, through sin’s delusive art, 
 
 Yet—’tis the best that I can offer Thee ! ’ 
 
 Margaret J. Preston. 
 
 3597. WORSHIP, riaces of 
 
 Spirit ! whose life-sustaining presence fills 
 Air, ocean, central depths, by man untiied. 
 
 Thou for Thy worshippers hast sanctified 
 All place, all time ! The silence of the hills 
 Breathes veneration ; founts and choral 1 ills 
 Of these are murmuring : to its inmost glade 
 
WORSHIP 
 
 696 
 
 WORTH 
 
 The living forest with Thy whisper thrills, 
 
 And there is holiness on every shade. 
 
 Yet must the thoughtful soul of man invest 
 With dearer consecration those pure fanes, 
 
 Which, sever’d from all sound of earth’s unrest. 
 
 Hear nought but suppliant or adoring strains 
 Rise heavenward. Ne’er may rock or cave possess 
 Their claim on human hearts to solemn tenderness. 
 
 Mrs He mans. 
 
 3598. WORSHIP. Prayer for acceptance of 
 
 The glorious hosts of peerless night 
 That ever see Thy face, 
 
 Thou mak’st the mirrors of Thy light, 
 
 The vessels of Thy grace ; 
 
 Then when their wondrous strain they weave. 
 Hast pleasure in the lay : 
 
 Deign thus our praises to receive, 
 
 Albeit from lips of clay ! 
 
 And yet Thyself they cannot know. 
 
 Nor pierce the veil of light 
 That hides Thee from the thrones below. 
 
 As in profoundest night : 
 
 How then can mortal accents frame 
 Due tribute to the King ? 
 
 Thou only, while we praise Thy name, 
 
 Forgive us while we sing ! 
 
 Metrophanes of Smyrna, tr. by J. M. Neale. 
 
 3599. WORSHIP. Rejected 
 
 Gladsome the bells so musical and loud, 
 
 Splendid the court, splendid the glistening crowd ; 
 
 Luxuriously soft the cushion’d stalls 
 
 And costly carpet, where the footstep falls ; 
 
 The air perfumed, the music soft and low, 
 
 The tinted lights upon the tinted show. 
 
 O Christ, they come to praise Thee! Dost Thou 
 hear ? 
 
 For Thee the psalm rings out so sweet and clear, 
 And silk-robed beauty bends the graceful knee, 
 
 And wealth doth suffer Thy meek company, 
 
 Content to pray with self-approving ken, 
 
 * Thanks, Lord ! that we—are not as other men.’ 
 
 O vainest prayer ! unheard beyond the skies 
 For widows’ Avails, and orphans’ bitter cries, 
 
 For hunger's calls, and the sad freezing moan 
 Of dying souls untended and alone. 
 
 Shall they have answer, then ? Ah, yes ! I say 
 They shall have answer—on the Judgment Day. 
 
 When sore-perplex’d, with hearts that sink and 
 quake, 
 
 They urge the plea, * Think, Lord, that for Thy 
 sake 
 
 We built our church; carved were the stones and 
 wood, 
 
 And priceless was the land on which it stood ; 
 
 Surely our golden gifts are not forgot :—’ 
 
 And the stern Christ shall say, ‘ / knozo them not.' 
 
 ‘ But this I knoAv, that at your temple gate 
 My poor, my star\’ing poor, in sorrow sat ; 
 
 Mine Avere the children, ignorant and cold, 
 
 Mine were the mothers, in their anguish old ; 
 
 And those young girls Avere sisters all of mine 
 That you, for “my sake,” might have saved from 
 crime. 
 
 ‘ I never kneAv you ! From your splendid place 
 No heart Avith sorrow breaking sought my face ; 
 
 No poor man’s soul e’er to my bosom came, 
 
 And your church kept the memory of his name ; 
 
 My poor— Avhich are my body, quite forgot, 
 
 I am dishonour’d ! Go—I knoAV you not ! ’ 
 
 Lillie E. Barr. 
 
 3600. WORSHIP. True 
 
 True faith nor biddeth nor abideth form. 
 
 The bended knee, the eye uplift, is all 
 
 Which man need render ; all Avhich God can bear. 
 
 What to the faith are forms ? A passing speck, 
 
 A crow upon the sky. God’s worship is 
 That only He inspires ; and His bright Avords, 
 
 Writ in the red-leaved volume of the heart, 
 
 Return to Him in prayer, as deAv to heaven. 
 
 Our proper good Ave rarely seek or make; 
 
 Mindless of our immortal powers and their 
 Immortal end, as is the pearl of its Avortli, 
 
 The rose its scent, the Avave its purity.— Bailey. 
 
 3601. WORTH : hoAv it is to be measured. 
 
 The Avorth of all men by their end esteem, 
 
 And then due praise, or due reproach, them yield. 
 
 Spenser. 
 
 3602. WORTH. Joy in 
 
 There is a joy in worth, 
 
 A high, mysterious, soul-pervading charm, 
 
 Which, never daunted, ever bright and warm, 
 Mocks at the idle, shadoAvy ills of earth, 
 
 Amid the gloom is bright, and tranquil in the 
 storm. 
 
 It asks, it needs no aid ; 
 
 It makes the proud and lofty soul its throne : 
 There, in its self-created heaven, alone, 
 
 No fear to shake, no memoiy to upbraid, 
 
 It sits a lesser God—life, life is all its oAA’n ! 
 
 The .Stoic Avas not wrong : 
 
 There is no evil to the virtuous braA-e ; 
 
 Or in the battle’s rift, or on the wave. 
 
WORTH 
 
 697 
 
 YEAR 
 
 Worshipp’d or scorn’d, alone or ’mid the throng, 
 
 He is himself—a man ! not life’s nor fortune’s 
 slave. 
 
 Power, and wealth, and fame, 
 
 Are but as weeds upon life’s troubled tide : 
 
 Give me but these,—a spirit tempest-tried, 
 
 A brow unshrinking, and a soul of flame, 
 
 The joy of conscious worth, its courage and its 
 pride !— Conrad. 
 
 3603. WORTH. Men of 
 
 God gives us men. A time like this demands 
 Strong minds, great hearts, true faith, and ready 
 hands : 
 
 Men whom the lust of office does not kill; 
 
 Men whom the spoils of office cannot buy ; 
 
 Men who possess opinions and a will; 
 
 Men who have honour—men who will not lie ; 
 Men who can stand before a demagogue 
 And scorn his treacherous flatteries without wink¬ 
 ing ; 
 
 Tall men, sun-crown’d, who live above the fog 
 In public duty, and in private thinking— 
 
 For while the rabble, with their thumb-worn creeds, 
 Their large professions and their little deeds, 
 
 Mingle in selfish strife, lo ! Freedom weeps, 
 
 Wrong rules the land, and waiting Justice sleeps. 
 
 3604. WORTH : wins esteem. 
 
 Nor are we ignorant how noble minds 
 Suffer too much through those indignities 
 Which times and vicious persons cast on them. 
 Ourself have ever vowed to esteem 
 As virtue for itself, so fortune base : 
 
 Who’s first in worth, the same be first in place. 
 
 Ben Jonson. 
 
 Firm and resolved by sterling worth to gain 
 Love and respect, thou shalt not strive in vain. 
 
 Brydges. 
 
 Oh ! wouldst thou set thy rank before thyself? 
 Wouldst thou be honour’d for thyself or that? 
 Rank that excels the wearer doth degrade, 
 
 Riches impoverish that divide respect : 
 
 Oh, to be cherish’d for one’s self alone ! 
 
 To owe the love which cleaves to us to nought 
 Which fortune’s summer—winter—gives or takes ! 
 
 Sheridan Knowles. 
 
 3605. WRATH. Victims of 
 
 ’Tis not the want of time, nor means, nor good in¬ 
 tent. 
 
 That has these millions to perdition sent; 
 
 But ’tis the siren who, his victims to betray, 
 Persuades with honey’d words repentance to delay. 
 Delay’s the siren’s name, whose fascinating song 
 Lures and deceives the madden’d, swelling throng. 
 Delay’s the fatal cause that bars the heavenly gates. 
 And tortures with an agony which ne’er abates. 
 
 3606. WRONG. 
 
 I SEE the right, and I approve it too, 
 
 Condemn the wrong, and yet the wrong pursue. 
 
 Ovid. 
 
 To persist 
 
 In doing wrong, extenuates not wrong, 
 
 But makes it much more heavy.— Shakespeare. 
 
 When people once are in the wrong, 
 
 Each line they add is much too long ; 
 
 Who farthest walks, but walks astray, 
 
 Is only farthest from his way.— Prior. 
 
 They ever do pretend 
 
 To have received a wrong, who wrong intend. 
 
 Daniel. 
 
 Wrongs do not leave off there where they begin. 
 But still beget new mischiefs in their course. 
 
 Daniel. 
 
 3607. YEAR. Old and New 
 
 No pause, no rest, no visual line 
 
 Between the years that come and go ! 
 
 For some too fast, for some too slow ; 
 
 Time never stops to sleep or dine, 
 
 But on and on with steady flight 
 He keeps, untired, by day—by night. 
 
 And boys and girls, ere yet aware, 
 
 Find threads of silver in their hair. 
 
 Their love of quiet growing stronger ; 
 
 And, haply, by these tokens know, 
 
 What kind friends told them long ago, 
 
 o O 7 
 
 That they are boys and girls no longer. 
 
 Still on—as silent as a ghost! 
 
 Seems but a score of days, all told, 
 
 Or but a month or two at most, 
 
 Since our last New Year’s song we troll’d. 
 
 And lo ! that New Year now is Old. 
 
 And here we stand to say ‘ Good-bye ! ’ 
 
 Brief words—and yet, we scarce know why. 
 
 They bring a moisture to the eye, 
 
 And to the heart some quakes and aches; 
 
 We speak them very tenderly, 
 
 With half a sob and half a sigh— 
 
 ‘ Old Year, good-bye ! Old Year, good-bye ! * 
 For what it brought, for what it takes, 
 
 We love it, and for loved ones’ sakes ; 
 
YEAR 
 
 698 
 
 YESTERDA Y 
 
 Prized for its hours of happiness, 
 
 Nor for its sacred sorrows less ; 
 
 For all it gave through toil and strife 
 Of new significance to life— 
 
 New breadths, new depths, new heights sublime, 
 And, haply, kingship over Time ! 
 
 Accept our thanks, Old Year ! for these, 
 
 And for all precious memories 
 Of love, of grief, of joy, of pain, 
 
 Whose ministry was not in vain. 
 
 And so we sadly lay, Old Year ! 
 
 Our love-wreath on thy snowy bier, 
 
 Our love-wreath, moisten’d by a tear ; 
 
 And, turning from our brief adieu, 
 
 With kindly welcome hail the New : 
 
 True to the Ruling Power, we sing, 
 
 4 The King is dead ! ? ‘ Long live the King ! ’ 
 
 Burleigh. 
 
 3608. YEAR. Thanksgiving for a New 
 
 Thank God, that towards eternity 
 Another step is won ! 
 
 Oh, longing turns my heart to Thee, 
 
 As time flows slowly on, 
 
 Thou Fountain whence my life is born, 
 
 Whence those rich streams of grace are drawn, 
 That through my being run ! 
 
 I count the hours, the days, the years, 
 
 That stretch in tedious line, 
 
 Until, O Life, that hour appears, 
 
 When, at Thy touch divine, 
 
 Whate’er is mortal now in me 
 Shall be consumed for aye in Thee, 
 
 And deathless life be mine ! 
 
 So glows Thy love within this frame, 
 
 That, touch’d with keenest fire, 
 
 My whole soul kindles in the flame 
 Of one intense desire, 
 
 To be in Thee, and Thou in me, 
 
 And e’en while yet on earth, to be 
 Still pressing closer, niglier ! 
 
 I joy that from Thy love divine 
 No power can part me now ; 
 
 That I may dare to call Thee mine, 
 
 My Friend, my Lord avow ; 
 
 That I, O Prince of life, shall be 
 Made wholly one in Heaven with Thee ; 
 
 My portion, Lord, art Thou ! 
 
 And therefore do my thanks o’erflow, 
 
 That one more year is gone, 
 
 And of this time, so poor, so slow, 
 
 Another step is won ; 
 
 And with a heart that may not wait. 
 
 Toward yonder, distant, golden gate, 
 
 I journey gladly on. 
 
 O Jesus! all my soul hath flown 
 Already up to Thee, 
 
 For Thou, in whom is love alone, 
 
 Hast wholly conquer’d me. 
 
 Farewell, ye phantoms, day and year, 
 
 Eternity is round me here, 
 
 Since, Lord, I live in Thee !— A. H. Francke. 
 
 3609. YESTERDAY. Lessons of 
 
 Now shall the mangled stump teach proud man a 
 lesson ; 
 
 Now can we from that elm-tree’s sap distil the wine 
 of Truth. 
 
 Heed ye those hundred rings, concentric from the 
 core, 
 
 Eddying in various waves to the red bark’s shore¬ 
 like rim ? 
 
 These be the gathering of yesterdays, present all to¬ 
 day; 
 
 This is the tree’s judgment, self-history that cannot 
 be gainsaid: < 
 
 Seven years agone there was a drought—and the 
 seventh ring is narrow’d ; 
 
 The fifth from hence was half a deluge—the fifth is 
 cellular and broad, 
 
 Thus, Man, thou art a result, the growth of many 
 yesterdays, 
 
 That stamp thy secret soul with marks of weal or 
 woe : 
 
 Thou art an almanac of self, the living record of thy 
 
 deeds : 
 
 Spirit hath its scars as well as body, sore and aching 
 in their season : 
 
 Here is a knot—it was a crime ; there is a canker— 
 selfishness; 
 
 Lo ! here, the heart-wood rotten ; lo, there, per¬ 
 chance, the sap-wood sound. 
 
 Nature teacheth not in vain ; thy works are in thee, 
 of thee ; 
 
 Some present evil bent hath grown of older errors : 
 
 And what if thou be walking now uprightly ? Salve 
 not thy wounds with poison. 
 
 As if a petty goodness of to-day hath blotted out 
 the sin of yesterday : 
 
 It is well thou hast life and light; and the Hewer 
 showeth mercy, 
 
 Dressing the root, pruning the branch, and looking 
 for thy tardy fruits ; 
 
 But, even here, as thou standest, cheerful belike, and 
 careless, 
 
YOUNG 
 
 699 
 
 YOUNG 
 
 The stains of ancient evil are upon thee, the 1 ecord 
 of thy wrong is in thee ; 
 
 For a curse of many yesterdays is thine, many yes- 
 terdays of sin, 
 
 That, haplv, little heeded now, shall blast thy many 
 morrows.— Tapper. 
 
 The feeble wrap the athletic in his shroud ; 
 
 And weeping fathers build their children’s tomb : 
 Me thine, Narcissa ! What though short thy date 
 Virtue, not rolling suns, the mind matures. 
 
 That life is long which answers life’s great end. 
 The time that bears no fruit deserves no name. 
 The man of wisdom is the man of years. 
 
 
 1 
 
 \ 
 
 ,610. YOUNG. Claims of the 
 
 <j) 
 
 Give us light amid our darkness 5 
 Let us know the good from ill ; 
 
 Hate us not for all our blindness ; 
 
 Love us, lead us, show us kindness, 
 
 You can make us what you will. 
 
 We are willing ; we are ready ; 
 
 We would learn, if you would teach ; 
 
 We have hearts that yearn towards duty , 
 
 We have minds alive to beauty ; 
 
 Souls that any heights can reach ! 
 
 Raise us by your Christian knowledge : 
 
 Consecrate to man our powers ; 
 
 Let us take our proper station ; 
 
 W T e, the rising generation. 
 
 Let us stamp the age as ours ! 
 
 We shall be what you will make us : 
 
 Make us wise, and make us good ! 
 
 Make us strong for time of trial ; 
 
 Teach us temperance, self-denial, 
 
 Patience, kindness, fortitude ! 
 
 Look into our childish faces ; 
 
 See ye not our willing hearts ? 
 
 Only love us, only lead us ; 
 
 Only let us know you need us, 
 
 And we all will do our parts. 
 
 We are thousands, many thousands ! 
 
 Every day our ranks increase ; 
 
 Let us march beneath your bannei, 
 
 We, the legion of true honour, 
 
 Combating for love and peace ! 
 
 Mary Ilowitt. 
 
 ^611. YOUNG. Counsel for the 
 
 •O 
 
 Live, that thy young and glowing breast 
 Can think of death without a sigh, 
 
 And be assured that life is best 
 Which finds us least afraid to die. 
 
 Eliza Cook. 
 
 3612. YOUNG. Death of the 
 
 Like other tyrants, Death delights to smite 
 What, smitten, most proclaims the pride of pow 
 And arbitrary nod. His joy supreme, 
 
 To bid the wretch survive the fortunate ; 
 
 In hoary youth, Methuselahs may die , 
 
 O how misdated on their flattering tombs ! 
 
 ’ Young. 
 
 Grieve not that I die young.—Is it not -well 
 To pass away ere life hath lost its brightness ? 
 Bind me no longer, sisters, with the spell 
 Of love and your kind words. List ye to me 
 Here I am bless’d—but I would be more free ; 
 
 I would go forth in all my spirit’s lightness. 
 
 Let me depart! 
 
 Ah ! who would linger till bright eyes grow dim. 
 Kind voices mute, and faithful bosoms cold ? 
 Till carking care, and coil, and anguish grim, 
 Cast their dark shadows o’er this faery world , 
 Till fancy’s many-colour’d wings are furl d, 
 
 And all, save the proud spirit, waxeth old? 
 
 I would depart! 
 
 Thus w'ould I pass away—yielding my soul 
 A joyous thank-offering to Him who gave 
 That soul to be, those starry orbs to roll. 
 
 Thus—thus exultingly would I depart, 
 
 Song on my lips, ecstasy in my heart: 
 
 Sisters—sweet sisters, bear me to my grave— 
 Let me depart! 
 
 Lady Flora Hastings. 
 
 3613. YOUNG. Prayer for the 
 
 Bestow, dear Lord, upon our youth 
 The gift of saving grace ; 
 
 And let the seed of sacred truth 
 Fall in a fruitful place. 
 
 Grace is a plant, where’er it grows. 
 
 Of pure and heavenly root; 
 
 But fairest in the youngest shows. 
 
 And yields the sweetest fruit. 
 
 Ye careless ones, O hear betimes 
 The voice of sovereign love 1 
 Your youth is stain’d with many crimes. 
 But mercy reigns above.— Cowper. 
 
 3614. YOUNG. Prayer of the 
 
 My Father, the guide of my youth. 
 
 To Thee for direction I fly ; 
 
 O grant me Thy light and 1 hy truth. 
 
 Nor ever Thy presence deny. 
 
YOUNG 
 
 700 
 
 YOUTH 
 
 My pillar of cloud and of fire, 
 
 W hile destined to journey below,— 
 
 Vv hat more can a pilgrim desire, 
 
 Or Thou in Thy goodness bestow ? 
 
 Raffles. 
 
 3615. YOUNG. Warning for the 
 
 Green as the bay-tree ever green. 
 
 With its new foliage on, 
 
 The gay, the thoughtless, have I seen : 
 
 I pass d—and they were gone. 
 
 Read, ye that run, the awful truth 
 With which I charge my page : 
 
 A worm is in the bud of youth, 
 
 And at the root of age. 
 
 No present health can health ensure 
 For yet an hour to come ; 
 
 No medicine, though it oft can cure. 
 
 Can always balk the tomb. 
 
 And O ! that humble as my lot, 
 
 And scorn’d as is my strain. 
 
 These truths, though known, too much forgot, 
 I may not teach in vain.— Cowper. 
 
 3616. YOUTH : and age. 
 
 And to say truth, though in its early prime. 
 
 And when unstain’d with any grosser crime. 
 
 Youth has a sprightliness and fire to boast. 
 
 That in the valley of decline are lost, 
 
 And \ irtue with peculiar charms appears, 
 
 Crown’d with the garland of life’s blooming years ; 
 Yet age, by long experience well inform’d, 
 
 'Well read, well temper’d, with religion warm’d_ 
 
 That fire abated which impels hot youth, 
 
 Proud of his speed, to overshoot the truth,— 
 
 As time improves the grape’s authentic juice, 
 Mellows and makes the speech more fit for use, 
 And claims a reverence in its shortening day 
 That ’tis an honour and a joy to pay. — Cowper. 
 
 And if the mist retiring slow, 
 
 Roll round its wavy white, 
 
 He thinks the morning vapours hide 
 Some beauty from his sight. 
 
 But when behind the western clouds 
 Departs the fading day, 
 
 How wearily the traveller 
 Pursues his evening way ! 
 
 Sorely along the craggy road 
 His painful footsteps creep, 
 
 And slow, with many a feeble pause. 
 
 He labours up the steep. 
 
 And if the mists of night close round. 
 
 They fill his soul with fear; 
 
 He dreads some unseen precipice, 
 
 Some hidden danger near. 
 
 So cheerfully does youth begin 
 Life’s pleasant morning stage • 
 
 o o y 
 
 Alas ! the evening traveller feels 
 The fears of wary age.— Southey. 
 
 I’d say we suffer and we strive 
 
 N ot less nor more as men than boys ; 
 
 With grizzled beards at forty-five, 
 
 As erst at twelve in corduroys.— Thackeray. 
 
 There was a time when meadow, grove, and spring, 
 The earth, and every common sight, 
 
 To me did seem 
 Apparell’d in celestial light, 
 
 The glory and the freshness of a dream. 
 
 It is not now as it hath been of yore 
 Turn wheresoe’er I may, 
 
 By night or day, 
 
 The things which I have seen I now can see no 
 more. 
 
 j The rainbow comes and goes, 
 
 And lovely is the rose ; 
 
 The moon doth with delight 
 Look round her when the heavens are bare : 
 
 Waters on a starry night 
 Are beautiful and fair ; 
 
 The sunshine is a glorious birth :— 
 
 But yet I know, where’er I go, 
 
 Tnat tiieie hath pass d away a glory from the 
 earth. — IVordsivorth. 
 
 3617. \ OUTII. Aspirations of 
 
 Higher, higher will we climb 
 Up the mount of glory. 
 
 That our names may live through time 
 In our country’s story : 
 
 Happy, when her welfare calls. 
 
 He who conquers, he who falls. 
 
 Deeper, deeper let us toil 
 In the mines of knowledge ; 
 
 Nature’s wealth and learning’s spoil 
 Win from school and college : 
 
 o 
 
 Delve we there for richer gems 
 Than the stars of diadems. 
 
 % 
 
 Onward, onward may we press 
 Through the path of duty ; 
 
 Virtue is true happiness, 
 
 Excellence true beauty. 
 
YOUTH 
 
 701 
 
 YOUTH 
 
 Minds are of celestial birth ; 
 
 Make we, then, a heaven of earth. 
 
 James Montgomery. 
 
 Let us read the dreams of glory 
 That childish fancy made ; 
 
 Turn to the next few pages, 
 
 And see how soon they fade. 
 
 Here, while still waiting, dreaming, 
 
 For some ideal life, 
 
 The young heart all unconscious 
 Had enter’d on the strife. 
 
 See how the page is blotted : 
 
 What—could those tears be mine ? 
 
 How coolly I can read you 
 
 Each blurr’d and trembling line ! 
 
 Now I can reason calmly, 
 
 And, looking back again, 
 
 Can see divinest meaning 
 
 Threading each separate pain. 
 
 Here strong resolve—how broken ! 
 
 Rash hope, and foolish fear, 
 
 And prayers, which God in pity 
 Refused to grant or hear. 
 
 Nay—I will turn the pages 
 To where the tale is told 
 
 Of how a dawn diviner 
 
 Flush’d the dark clouds with gold. 
 
 Household Words : ‘ My Journal .’ 
 
 Youth, that pursuest with such eager pace 
 Thy even way, 
 
 Thou pantest on to win a mournful race : 
 
 Then stay ! oh, stay ! 
 
 Pause and luxuriate in thy sunny plain ; 
 
 Loiter,—enjoy : 
 
 Once past, thou never wilt come back again 
 A second boy. 
 
 The hills of manhood wear a noble face 
 When seen from far ; 
 
 The mist of light from which they take their grace 
 Hides what they are. 
 
 The dark and weary path those cliffs between 
 Thou canst not know, 
 
 And how it leads to regions never green, 
 
 Dead fields of snow. 
 
 Pause while thou mayst, nor deem that fate thy gain, 
 Which, all too fast, 
 
 Will drive thee forth from this delicious plain, 
 
 A man at last.— Moncktoti Milnes. 
 
 3618. YOUTH : described. 
 
 What is youth?—A dancing billow, 
 
 Winds behind, and rocks before ! 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 3619. YOUTH. Desires of 
 
 Youth hath a strong and strange desire to try 
 All feelings on the heart : ’tis very wrong, 
 
 And dangerous, and deadly : strive against it. 
 
 Bailey. 
 
 3620. YOUTH : dissipated. 
 
 YOUTH lost in dissipation,—we deplore 
 Through life’s sad remnant, what no sighs restore : 
 Our years, a fruitless loss without a prize, 
 
 Too many—yet too few to make us wise. — Cowker. 
 
 3621. YOUTH. Dreams of 
 
 For, ah ! my heart, how very soon 
 
 The glittering dreams of youth are past! 
 And long before it reach its noon, 
 
 The sun of life is overcast.— Moore. 
 
 3622. YOUTH. Griefs of 
 
 And is not youth, as fancy tells, 
 
 Life’s summer prime of joy? 
 
 Ah, no ! for hopes too long delay’d 
 And feelings blasted or betray’d 
 Its fabled bliss destroy ; 
 
 And youth remembers with a sigh 
 The careless days of infancy.— Southey. 
 
 Look back upon your hours of youth : 
 
 What were your early years, 
 
 But scenes of childish cares and griefs ? 
 
 And say not childish tears 
 Were nothing ; at that time they were 
 More than the young heart well could bear. 
 
 L. E. Landon. 
 
 3623. YOUTH. Happiness of 
 
 In the sweet morn of life, when health and joy 
 Laugh in the eye, and o’er each sunny plain 
 A mild celestial softness seems to reign, 
 
 Ah ! who could dream what woes the heart annoy ? 
 No saddening sighs disturb the vernal gale 
 Which fans the wild-wood music on the ear ; 
 Unbathed the sparkling eye with pity’s tear, 
 
 Save listening to the aged soldier’s tale. 
 
 The heart’s slow grief which wastes the child of woe. 
 And lovely injured woman’s cruel wrong. 
 
 We hear not in the skylark’s morning song. 
 
 We hear not in the gales that o’er us blow :— 
 Yisions devoid of woe which childhood drew, 
 
 How oft shall my sad heart your soothing scenes 
 renew !— Leyden. 
 
YOUTH 
 
 702 
 
 YOUTH 
 
 Happy the schoolboy ! Did he prize his bliss, 
 ’Twere ill exchanged for all the dazzling gems 
 That gaily sparkle in ambition’s eye : 
 
 His are the joys of nature, his the smile, 
 
 The cherub smile, of innocence and health : 
 Sorrow unknown, or, if a tear be shed, 
 
 He wipes it soon : for, hark ! the cheerful voice 
 Of comrades calls him to the top or ball; 
 
 Away he hies, and clamours as he goes, 
 
 With glee, which causes him to tread on air. 
 
 Knox. 
 
 Oh ! enviable, early days, 
 
 "When dancing thoughtless pleasure’s maze, 
 To care, to guilt unknown ! 
 
 How ill exchanged for riper times, 
 
 To feel the follies, or the crimes. 
 
 Of others, or my own ! 
 
 Ye tiny elves, that guileless sport, 
 
 Like linnets in the bush, 
 
 Ye little know the ills ye court 
 When manhood is your wish ! 
 
 The losses, the crosses, 
 
 That active men engage ; 
 
 The fears all, the tears all, 
 
 Of dim declining age !— Burns. 
 
 How bright to him life’s opening mom ! 
 
 No cloud to intercept a ray ; 
 
 The rose had then no hidden thorn,] 
 
 The tree of life knew no decay. 
 
 How greeted oft his wondering soul 
 The fairy shapes of childish joy, 
 
 As gaily on the moments stole, 
 
 And still grew up the blooming boy ! 
 
 Hoyt. 
 
 Let them exult : their laugh and song 
 Are rarely known to last too long : 
 
 Why should we strive, with cynic frown. 
 
 To knock their fairy castles down ? 
 
 Eliza Cook. 
 
 Tlest hour of childhood ! then, and then alone, 
 Dance we the revels close round pleasure’s throne, 
 Quaff the bright nectar from her fountain-springs, 
 And laugh beneath the rainbow of her wings. 
 
 Oh ! time of promise, hope, and innocence, 
 
 Of trust, and love, and happy ignorance ! 
 
 Whose every dream is heaven, in whose fair joy 
 Experience yet has thrown no black alloy ; 
 
 Whose pain, when fiercest, lacks the venom’d pang, 
 Which to maturer ill doth oft belong, 
 
 When, mute and cold, we weep departed bliss, 
 
 And hope expires on broken happiness. 
 
 3624. YOUTH. Hopefulness of 
 
 Self-flatter’d, unexperienced, high in hope, 
 When young, with sanguine cheer, and streamers gay, 
 
 We cut our cable, launch into the world, 
 
 And fondly dream each wind and star our friend. 
 
 Young. 
 
 How gaily is at first begun 
 Our life’s uncertain race ! 
 
 Whilst yet that sprightly morning sun, 
 
 With which we just set out to run. 
 
 Enlightens all the place. 
 
 How smiling the world’s prospect lies, 
 
 How tempting to go through ! 
 
 Not Canaan to the prophet’s eyes, 
 
 'From Pisgah, with a sweet surprise, 
 
 Did more inviting show. 
 
 How soft the first ideas prove 
 
 Which wander through our minds ! 
 
 How full the joys, how free the love, 
 
 Which does that early season move, 
 
 As flowers the western winds ! 
 
 Anne, Countess of Winchelsea. 
 
 Oh! the joy 
 
 Of young ideas painted on the mind 
 In the warm glowing colours fancy spreads 
 On objects not yet known, when all is new 
 And all is lovely .—Hannah More. 
 
 Youth with swift feet walks onward in the way; 
 
 The land of joy lies all before his eyes; 
 
 Age, stumbling, lingers slower day by day, 
 
 Still looking back, for it behind him lies. 
 
 Frances A nne Kemble Butler . 
 
 3625. YOUTH. Immortal 
 
 Yet grieve thou not, nor think thy youth is gone, 
 Nor deem that glorious season e’er could die. 
 
 Thy pleasant youth, a little while withdrawn, 
 
 Waits on the horizon of a brighter sky ; 
 
 Waits, like the morn, that folds her wing and hides 
 Till the slow stars bring back her dawning hour ; 
 Waits, like the vanish’d spring, that slumbering bides 
 Her own sweet time to waken bud and flower. 
 
 There shall He welcome thee, when thou shalt stand 
 On His bright morning hills, with smiles more 
 sweet 
 
 Than when at first He took thee by the hand, 
 Through the fair earth to lead thy tender feet. 
 
 He shall bring back, but brighter, broader still, 
 Life’s early glory to thine eyes again, 
 
 Shall clothe thy spirit with new strength, and fill 
 Thy leaping heart with warmer love than then. 
 
 Hast thou not glimpses, in the twilight here. 
 
 Of mountains where immortal morn prevails ? 
 Comes there not, through the silence, to thine ear 
 A gentle rustling of the morning gales ; 
 
YOUTH 
 
 703 
 
 YOUTH 
 
 A murmur, wafted from that glorious shore, 
 
 Of streams that water banks for ever fair, 
 
 And voices of the loved ones gone before, 
 
 More musical in that celestial air ? — Bryant. 
 
 3626. YOUTH. Importance of education in 
 
 ’Tis granted, and no plainer truth appears. 
 
 Our most important are our earliest years : 
 
 The mind, impressible and soft, with ease 
 Imbibes and copies what she hears and sees, 
 
 And through life’s labyrinth holds fast the clue 
 That education gives her, false or true.— Cowper. 
 
 3627. YOUTH : misspent. 
 
 O man ! while in thy early years, 
 
 How prodigal of time! 
 
 Misspending all thy precious hours, 
 
 Thy glorious youthful prime !— Burns. 
 
 3628. YOUTH. Perils of 
 
 Down the smooth stream of life the stripling darts, 
 Gay as the morn : bright glows the vernal sky, 
 Hope swells the sails, and passion steers his course. 
 Safe glides his little bark along the shore. 
 
 Where virtue takes her stand : but if too far 
 He launches forth beyond discretion’s mark. 
 
 Sudden the tempest scowls, the surges roar, 
 
 Blot his fair day, and plunge him in the deep. 
 
 Po ileus. 
 
 3629. YOUTH. Rashness of 
 
 Youth is ever apt to judge in haste, 
 
 And lose the medium in the wild extreme. 
 
 Hill. 
 
 3630. YOUTH : retumless. 
 
 There are gains for all our losses. 
 
 There are balms for all our pain, 
 
 But when youth, the dream, departs. 
 
 It takes something from our hearts. 
 
 And it never comes again. 
 
 We are stronger, and are better. 
 
 Under manhood’s sterner reign ; 
 
 Still we feel that something sweet 
 Follow’d youth, with flying feet. 
 
 And will never come again. 
 
 Something beautiful is vanish’d. 
 
 And we sigh for it in vain ; 
 
 We behold it everywhere, 
 
 On the earth and in the air, 
 
 But it never comes again.— Stoddard. 
 
 3631. YOUTH. Sedateness in 
 
 Something of youth I in old age approve, 
 
 But more the marks of age in youth I love. 
 
 Who this observes, may in his body find 
 Decrepit age, but never in his mind.— Denham. 
 
 3632. YOUTH. Thoughtlessness of 
 
 We were 
 
 Two lads that thought there was no more behind,. 
 But such a day to-morrow as to-day, 
 
 And to be boys eternal.— Shakespeare. 
 
 Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows, 
 Y/hile proudly riding o’er the azure realm 
 In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes ; 
 
 Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm ; 
 Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind’s sway, 
 
 That, hush’d in grim repose, expects his evening 
 prey.— Gray. 
 
 Gay hope is theirs, by fancy fed. 
 
 Less pleasing when possess’d ; 
 
 The tear forgot as soon as shed, 
 
 The sunshine of the breast. 
 
 Theirs buxom health of rosy hue, 
 
 Wild wit, invention ever new, 
 
 And lively cheer of vigour born ; 
 
 The thoughtless day, the easy night. 
 
 The spirits pure, the slumbers light. 
 
 That fly the approach of morn. 
 
 Alas ! regardless of their doom. 
 
 The little victims play; 
 
 No sense have they of ills to come, 
 
 Nor care beyond to-day ; 
 
 Yet see how all around ’em wait 
 The ministers of human fate, 
 
 And black Misfortune’s baleful train. 
 
 Ah ! show them where in ambush stand, 
 
 To seize their prey, the murtherous band : 
 
 Ah, tell them they are men !— Gray . 
 
 O life ! how pleasant in thy morning, 
 
 Young Fancy’s rays the hills adorning ! 
 
 Cold pausing Caution’s lesson scorning, 
 
 We frisk away, 
 
 Like school-boys at the expected warning, 
 
 To joy and play.— Burns. 
 
 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 eye 
 The illusive past and dark futurity. 
 
 Id. Kirke White. 
 
YOUTH 
 
 704 
 
 ZEAL 
 
 3633. YOUTH. Zeal in 
 
 Oil! be thou zealous in thy youth ; 
 
 Fill every day with noble toils, 
 
 Fight for the victories of Truth, 
 
 And deck thee with her deathless spoils. 
 For those whose lives are in retreat, 
 
 Their valour and ambition flown. 
 
 In vain the ’larum drum is beat, 
 
 In vain the battle-trumpet blown ! 
 
 Oriental , tr. by IV. T. Alger. 
 
 3634. ZEAL. Present 
 
 Rise from your dreams of the future, 
 
 Of gaining some hard-fought field, 
 
 Of storming some airy fortress, 
 
 Or bidding some giant yield. 
 
 Your future has deeds of glory. 
 
 Of honour (God grant it may), 
 
 But your aim will never be stronger, 
 
 Or the need so great as to-day. 
 
 Rise, for the day is passing ! 
 
 The low sound that you scarcely hear 
 Is the enemy marching to battle ; 
 
 Arise 1 for the foe is near! 
 
 Stay not to sharpen your weapons, 
 
 Or the hour will strike at last, 
 
 When, from dreams of a coming battle, 
 You may wake to find it past. 
 
 3635- ZEAL. True 
 
 Zeal is that pure and heavenly flame 
 The fire of love supplies ; 
 
 While that which often bears the name 
 Is self in a disguise. 
 
 True zeal is merciful and mild, 
 
 Can pity and forbear ; 
 
 The false is headstrong, fierce, and wild. 
 And breathes revenge and war. 
 
 While zeal for truth the Christian warms, 
 He knows the worth of peace ; 
 
 But self contends for names and forms, 
 
 Its party to increase. 
 
 Zeal has attain’d its highest aim, 
 
 Its end is satisfied, 
 
 If sinners love the Saviour’s name ; 
 
 Nor seeks it aught beside.— Newton. 
 
INDEX OF FIRST LINES 
 
 A babe in a, 965 
 A babe in glory, 2006 ] 
 
 A beggar ask d an, 1477 
 A beggar of Shiraz, 1285 
 A boat at midnight, 12 
 A bright or dark, 2219 
 A butterfly basked on, 445 
 A Christian’s wit is, 3528 
 A cloud lay cradled, 806 
 A critic was of, 638 
 A crown ! Golden in, 2142 
 A crown ! what is, 2142 
 A day, a day, 499 
 A day and hour, 2216 
 A death-bed’s a, 737 
 A decent boldness ever, 2405 
 A dreary place would, 438 
 A fault doth never, 1109 
 A few days may, 1434 
 A flower that does, 2235 
 A fool ! indeed, has, 3357 
 A fount-o’ershading tree stands, 232 
 A fragrant piece of, 218 
 A friend should bear, 1404 
 A full hot horse, 182 
 A genial hearth, a, 2634 
 A gentle angel walketh, 2638 
 A golden treasure is, 1419 
 A good man’s prayers, 2832 
 A government on freedom s, 157 2 
 A Hampden too is, 1453 
 A happy genius is, 1452 
 A horseman, flying in, 2958 
 A hundred times in, 624 
 A husbandman who many, 3457 
 A jest’s prosperity lies, 2063 
 A jewel is a, 2462 
 A jewel fallen within, 2725 
 A judge—a man, 2096 
 A just man cannot, 2109 
 A king, who by, 1615 
 A leper once to, 469 
 A life of honour, 1853 
 A little flock ! Yes, 516 
 A little learning is, 1000 
 A little longer still, 1034 
 A little faith will, 1154 
 A little maiden read, 1806 
 A little word in, 2130 
 A little bird I, 1982 
 A little fire is, 2605 
 A little while of, 3376 
 A little while, for, 3377 
 A little theft a, 3444 
 A lively faith will, 1154 
 A lovely bud so, 960 
 A man in authority, 247 
 A man in his, 894 
 A man may cry, 1317 
 A man of sense, 2o3 
 A man there came, 3309 
 A man through Syria’s, 2261 
 A man to-day the, 2402 
 A merchant famed for, 3228 
 A million beats of, 2494 
 A millstone and the, 1724 
 A mind which through, 630 
 A miracle with miracles, 2486 
 A mist of words, 3561 
 A moaning cry, as, 1032 
 A moral, sensible, and, 2405 
 
 A mother’s holy arms, 2808 
 A mother’s love how, 2506 
 A mother’s love to, 2506 
 A native grace sat, 288 
 A night of fretful, 274 
 A nightingale, that all, 3 2 7 ° 
 
 A noble emulation breaks, 1210 
 A noble heart doth, 3003 
 A novel was a, 2578 
 A parent ask’d a, 555 
 A peace is of, 2670 
 A perfect judge will, 639 
 A pilgrim bound to, 2524 
 A pilgrim through his, 3582 
 A pining sceptic towards, 2717 
 A plain suit, since, 932 
 A politician, Proteus-like, 2756 
 A present Deity in, 2552^ 
 
 A priest by Heaven, 2746 
 A prince is but, 2145 
 A prison is a, 2873 
 A quiet conscience makes, 505 
 A rare thing is, 1388 
 A sad estate of, 2822 
 A safe stronghold our, 779 
 A saint ! Oh, would, 3027 
 A sceptic, matched with, 3406 
 A secret in his, 3048 
 A shipwreck’d sailor on, 2597 
 A show of liberty, 2214 
 A smith at the, 50 
 A spark creates the, 2935 
 A sprout of evil, 1103 
 A strong and mailed, 1033 
 A tender mother lives, 2357 
 A thing of beauty, 281 
 A thousand gnats make, 2913 
 A thousand years a, 2605 
 A thousand years scarce, 3224 
 A thunder-storm ! the, 3229 
 A true good man, 2635 
 A trusting heart, a, 2355 
 A valiant man ought, 615 
 A very little goodness, 1564 
 A vintner at the, 127 
 A virtuous deed should, 3449 
 A wand’rer I’ve been, 734 
 A weaver sat one, 2660 
 A whisper woke the, 3107 
 A wife becomes the, 3504 
 A wife’s a man’s, 3504 
 A willing heart adds, 2x36 
 A wind came up, 659 
 A wise man likes, 452 
 A worthy man of, 3297 
 A wretched thing it, 1735 
 A young maiden’s heart, 1733 
 A youngster at school, 890 
 Abou Ben Adhem (may, 2699 
 About the joys and, 1527 
 Above all things raillery, 2923 
 Above me are the, 2512 
 Above the seats of, 90 
 Absence of occupation is, 2980 
 Abstruse and mystic thoughts, 3 2 34 
 Absurd longevity! More, more, 113 
 Absurd ! to think to, 1196 
 Abundance is a blessing, 3004 ? 
 
 Accomplishments have taken virtue s, 
 Accomplishments were native to, 19 
 Accountable to none but, 570 
 
 Actions rare and sudden, 37 
 Adieu ! adieu ! what means, 51 
 Admirers of false pleasures, 2732 
 Affliction is the wholesome, 88 
 Afflictions may press me, 93 
 After our child’s untroubled, 297 
 After the Christian’s tears, 1444 
 After the joys of, 1445 
 After the storm a, 76 
 Against diseases here the. 15 
 Against our peace we, 880 
 Age by degrees invisibly, 103 
 Age is froward, uneasy, 115 
 Age, like ripe apples, 116 
 Age sits with decent, no 
 Ah, can you bear, 2497 
 Ah, child, unjust to, 1050 
 Ah, dearest Lord, I, 2810 
 Ah, friend ! to dazzle, 3542 
 Ah ! from real happiness, 3419 
 Ah ! how unjust to, 1050 
 Ah, hush now your, 1594 
 Ah, look thou largely, 402 
 Ah me ! full sorely, 1206 
 Ah me ! those joyous, 2407 
 Ah, monarchs ! could ye, 3477 
 Ah ! ne'er so dire, 639 
 Ah ! silly man, who, 3053 
 Ah, that deceit should, 1918 
 Ah ! vice ! how soft, 3416 
 Ah, what a sigh, 689 
 Ah ! what is human, 2239 
 Ah! what would the, 442 
 Ah! whence yon glare, 3472 
 Ah ! when did wisdom, 3515 
 Ah ! who can say, 3632 
 Ah ! who can tell, 2769 
 Ah, woman ! woman ! thou, 354 1 
 Ah, world unknown ! how, 3575 
 Ah, wretched and to, 3053 
 Ah, yes, Philosopher, thy, 1703 
 Aim at the highest, 128 
 
 Alas 
 
 Alas 
 
 Alas 
 
 Alas 
 
 Alas 
 
 Alas 
 
 Alas 
 
 Alas 
 
 Alas 
 
 Alas 
 
 Alas 
 
 Alas 
 
 Alas 
 
 Alas 
 
 Alas 
 
 3525 
 
 and is domestic, 130T 
 had reason ever, 2706 
 how light a, 895 
 I am but, 200 
 I have nor, 1049 
 I have no, 1643 
 I have walk’d, 3064 
 our young affections, 2631 
 the breast that, 1629 
 the joys that, 1330 
 the praise given, 1280 
 the world is, 3579 
 they had been, 1400 
 what differs more, 7 
 . when all our, 3233 
 All are architects of, 37 ° 
 
 All are but parts, 1519 
 
 All are not just, 2114 
 
 All are not taken, 2969 
 
 All countries are my, 1128 
 
 All day the sun, 710 
 
 All evils natural are, 1950 
 
 All flesh is grass, 751 
 
 All flowers will droop, 10 
 
 All friendly trust is, 3048 
 
 All great concernments must, 2925 
 
 All great souls make, 589 
 
 All greatness is in, 1624 
 
 All hail, Thou noble, 325 
 
 45 
 
7 o6 
 
 INDEX OF FIRST LINES . 
 
 All has its date, 675 
 
 All hope on earth, 186S 
 
 All human projects are, 1376 
 
 All human race, from, 2740 
 
 All is best thought, 3571 
 
 All is dying ; hearts, 2076 
 
 All is of God, 2901 
 
 All is vanity which, 1849 
 
 All jealousy must still, 2059 
 
 All mankind are students, 3233 
 
 All may be heroes, 1802 
 
 All men think all, 692 
 
 All my heart this, 496 
 
 All nature a sermon, 392 
 
 All nature is but, 407 
 
 All nature seems at, 3568 
 
 All natural objects have, 2562 
 
 All night the lonely, 2806 
 
 All other debts may, 2364 
 
 All other passions have, 2059 
 
 All our actions take, 1732 
 
 All potent Flattery, universal, 1281 
 
 All powerful is the, 602 
 
 All praise to the, 461 
 
 All private virtue is, 2659 
 
 All promise is poor, 2377 
 
 All should unite to, 2029 
 
 All that in this, 1505 
 
 All that the mind, 3468 
 
 All that’s bright must, 1089 
 
 All the good we, 1703 
 
 All the invention that, 2050 
 
 All the world by, 630 
 
 All the world’s a. 2266 
 
 All things, dear Lord, 2898 
 
 All this boasted knowledge, 2167 
 
 All thought begins in, 3316 
 
 All tongues speak of, 2764 
 
 All transitory titles I, 3357 
 
 All true glory rests, 3445 
 
 All truth is calm, 3380 
 
 All vice to which, 2916 
 
 All who work for, 722 
 
 All with one consent, 2580 
 
 All your attempts shall, 2032 
 
 All’s for the best, 2278 
 
 All’s not offence that, 2588 
 
 All's to be fear’d, 401 
 
 Allah, Allah ! cried the, 2807 
 
 Almighty Being, Cause and, 2172 
 
 Almighty, hear Thy children, 980 
 
 Almighty Judge, how shall, 2098 
 
 Almighty power, I love, 3237 
 
 Alone, amid life’s griefs, 902 
 
 Alone I walk’d the, 2584 
 
 Alone the keys a, 2811 
 
 Alone ! to land alone, 678 
 
 Alone with Thee ! alone, 453 
 
 Amazed he stands, nor, 3185 
 
 Ambition hath one heel, 158 
 
 Ambition is a lust, 155 
 
 Ambition is like love, 153 
 
 Ambition is the vice, 141 
 
 Ambition sigh’d, she found, 145 
 
 Ambrose of Cluny, abbot, 2722 
 
 Amid all life’s quests, 420 
 
 Amid the darkness, when, 3230 
 
 Amplitude almost immense, with, 3213 
 
 Amy died. Dear little, 432 
 
 Among the sons of, 2059 
 
 An age that melts, 108 
 
 An aged Sultan placed, 1495 
 
 An atheist is ever, 3400 
 
 An Eastern prince his, 3538 
 
 An empire thou could’st, 2630 
 
 An empty form is, 1937 
 
 An honest man is, 1851 
 
 An honest man may, 768 
 
 An honest man’s the, 1847 
 
 An honest soul is, 1S44 
 
 An idler Ls a, 1934 
 
 An oath is a, 2541 
 
 And as in sparkling, 1871 
 
 And as the better, 1084 
 
 And as the waxing, 1488 
 
 And be the juggling, 2883 
 
 And cards are dealt, 3319 
 
 And chiefly Thou, O, 2037 
 
 And could we choose, 674 
 
 And faint not, heart, 2873 
 
 And Freedom thus, of, 1350 
 
 And for'the heavens’, 3220 
 
 And greedy avarice by, 255 
 
 And hence our master-passions, 2622 
 
 And how I bless, 250S 
 
 And if the mist, 3616 
 
 And is not youth, 3622 
 
 And is there care, 175 
 
 And is this the, 3061 
 
 And learn the luxury, 1539 
 
 And like the Spartan, 201 
 
 And may I still, 840 
 
 And may at last, m 
 
 And oh ! that pang, 1668 
 
 Androcles from his injured, 2138 ‘ 
 
 And say to mothers, 2508 
 
 And say without our, 1S27 
 
 And see the rivers, 3010 
 
 And shall I e’er, 2901 
 
 And sometimes in my, 3482 
 
 And still from him, 1940 
 
 And the brute crowd, 2497 
 
 And there lives not, 1438 
 
 And there’s a lust, 3040 
 
 And they who before, 1129 
 
 And though all cry, 3065 
 
 And ’tis remarkable that, 2606 
 
 And to say truth, 3616 
 
 And touch’d with miseries, 2723 
 
 And underneath that face, 2628 
 
 And we are told, 2821 
 
 And what art thou, 405 
 
 And what is fame, 1196 
 
 And what is friendship, 1406 
 
 And what is most, 2801 
 
 And what is want, 2786 
 
 And when religious sects, 2694 
 
 And when thou think’st, 3201 
 
 And when time sweet, 580 
 
 And when yon crowd, 1713 
 
 And while Lord, Lord, 1550 
 
 And who but wishes, 2610 
 
 And who that walks, 220 
 
 And wilt thou now, 3082 
 
 Angels are men of, 174 
 
 Angels from friendship gather, 1411 
 
 Another feature in the, 129 
 
 Another hand is beckoning, 1378 
 
 Any heart turn’d Godward, 2824 
 
 Apollyon, Baalim, Beelzebub, Bel, 1746 
 
 Appearances decide and this, 20® 
 
 Appearances to save his, 199 
 
 Applause waits on. success, 3244 
 
 Are domestic comforts dead, 3441 
 
 Are there on earth, 185 
 
 ‘ Are virtue,’ then, and, 2715 
 
 Are we not brothers, 1065 
 
 Are we not creatures, 368 
 
 Are we sowing seeds, 3206 
 
 Arm’d at all points, 572 
 
 Arrest the present moments, 3343 
 
 Around Bethesda’s healing wave, 292 
 
 Around each pure, domestic, 2761 
 
 Art may tell a, 205 
 
 Art thou aught else, 405 
 
 Art thou weary, art, 481 
 
 Art tired? There is, 2084 
 
 As a beam o’er, 3138 
 
 As a bird in, 2502 
 
 As a driver checks, 2626 
 
 As custom arbitrates whose, 652 
 
 As every day they, 3371 
 
 As folks, quoth Richard, 1195 
 
 As frost to the, 1416 
 
 As fruits ungrateful to, 2623 
 
 As I blow this, 1271 
 
 As in smooth oil, 2063 
 
 As lamps burn silent, 283 
 
 As letters some hand, 2444 
 
 As love can exquisitely, 2354 
 
 As mid the ever-rolling, 21 n 
 
 As precious gums are, 733 
 
 As rising on its, 273 
 
 As rivers, though they, 2701 
 
 As th’ untaught accident, 407 
 
 As the barometer foretells, 2598 
 
 As the fond sheep, 3097 
 
 As the heart-strings, 870 
 
 As the man beholds, 3539 
 
 As the rose doth, 222 
 
 As the uncultured prairie, 2199 
 
 As thistles wear the, 2158 
 
 As though the artist’s, 1779 
 As though the hedgerows, 2498 
 As thou wilt, my, 2967 
 As veils transparent cover, 2334 
 As we do turn, 1390 
 As were a golden, 1475 
 As wrapt and hidden, 1003 
 Ask the swain who, 2556 ~ 
 
 Asleep in Jesus ! blessed, 673 
 
 Assail’d by scandal and, 3940 
 
 At church with meek, 525 
 
 At evening to myself, 661 
 
 At every nation of, 636 
 
 At night, upon the, 8 
 
 At summer eve, when, 896 
 
 At the cross her, 2427 
 
 Atheist, use thine eyes, 626 
 
 Attempt the end, and, 2695 
 
 Auspicious Hope ! in thy, 1871 
 
 Authority intoxicates, and makes, 246 
 
 Authority! Thy worshipp’d symbols, 1608 
 
 Avaunt thee, horrid war, 3468 
 
 Avenge, O Lord, Thy, 2424 
 
 Avoid a villain as, 542 
 
 Avoid extremes, and shun, 1148 
 
 Avoid the politic, the, 1150 
 
 Awake in me a, 2743 
 
 Awake, my soul! lift, 1294 
 
 Awake, my soul! not, 1506 
 
 Away, then, causeless doubts, 942 
 
 Away ! we know that, 2516 
 
 Away with all doubt, 2712 
 
 Away with custom, ’tis, 653 
 
 Away with death—away, 1969 
 
 Away with sorrow’s sigh, 53 
 
 Ay ! idleness ! the rich, 2757 
 
 Ay, Justice, who evades, 2125 
 
 Base envy withers at, 1054 
 
 Be calm in arguing, 203 
 
 Be firm ! one constant’, 1274 
 
 Be it a weakness, 2437 
 
 Be it what it, 828 
 
 Be just in all, 32 
 
 Be kind to each, 2133 
 
 Be kind to thy, 2123 
 
 Be not afraid to, 2828 
 
 Be not always on, 2470 
 
 Be not dismay’d—fear, 616 
 
 Be not over-exquisite to, 194 
 
 Be not weary; toiling, 3491 
 
 Be patient—life is, 2243 
 
 Be patient! oh be, 2645 
 
 Be silent always when, 604 
 
 Be still in God, 2966 
 
 Be still, my soul, 189 
 
 Be strong to bear, 3252 
 
 Be thou clad in, 2779 
 
 Be thou the first, 2464 
 
 Be thrifty, but not, 1137 
 
 Be virtuous ends pursued, 3448 
 
 Be wise to-day, 784 
 
 Be wisely worldly, but, 3513 
 
 Bear Thou my burden, 839 
 
 Bear your wrongs conceal’d, 522 
 
 Beautiful, yes ! but the, 275 
 
 Beautiful, beautiful childhood with. 436 
 
 Beautiful the children’s faces, 3281 
 
 Beautiful! How beautiful is, 3574 
 
 Beauty and Truth though, 216 
 
 Beauty gives the features, 276 
 
 Beauty is but vain, 282 
 
 Beauty is excell’d by, 276 
 
 Beauty, like ice, our, 279 
 
 Beauty, like the fair, 279 
 
 Beauty, my lord, ’tis, 275 
 
 Beauty, sweet love! is, 275 
 
 Beauty ! thou pretty plaything, 275 
 
 Beauty was lent to, 287 
 
 Beauty’s a slippery good, 275 
 
 Because its blessings are, 1534 
 
 Before the idol-monster, 1941 
 
 Begin the day with, 658 
 
 Behold a patriarch of, 12c 
 
 Behold an emblem of, 892 
 
 Behold, fond man ! see, 3511 
 
 Behold Sir Balaam now, 2888 
 
 Behold the Bridegroom cometh, 55 
 
 Behold the child among, i960 
 
 Behold the child by, 2379 
 
 Behold the inexorable hour, 691 
 
INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 
 
 707 
 
 Behold ! The ruddy damsel, 1994 
 Behold the sun that, 1091 
 Behold the world Rests, 2572 
 Behold where age’s wretched, 114 
 Behold where yon pellucid, 2705 
 Being once chafed he, 182 
 Believe me, friend, loud, 3223 
 Beloved, it is well, 1160 
 Beneath the rule of, 2682 
 Beneath the shadows of, 2366 
 Beneath those rugged elms, 521 
 Beside yon straggling fence, 3279 
 Bestow, dear Lord, upon, 3613 
 Better through life barefooted, 3497 
 Better to die ten, 1853 
 Better to dwell in, 1349 _ 
 
 Better were awful mountains, 3141 
 Between a wise magician, 2889 
 Between the acting of, 2039 
 Between two breaths, what, 2223 
 Between two worlds of, 1896 
 Beware of desperate steps, 833 
 Beware of doubt—faith, 914 
 Beware of sudden friendship, 1403 
 Beware of too sublime, 3059 
 Beyond the sense of, i486 
 Beyond, these chilling winds, 1761 
 Bikasur had of penances, 2045 
 Bird, blossom, branch, and, 1739 
 Blessed are they that, 86 
 Blest are those whose, 1334 
 Blest be the spot, 1892 
 Blest be those sunshine, 3254 
 Blest hour of childhood, 3623 
 Blest tears of soul-felt, 3289 
 Blessings be on their, 2495 
 Blessings be with them, 2752 
 Blessings on the hand, 3543 
 Blind, poor, and helpless, 331 
 Blinded greatness, ever ki, 156 
 Blinded greatness, ever in, 1612 
 Blinded in youth by, 3581 
 Blindfolded and alone I, 2971 
 Blow, blow, thou winter, 2030 
 Blunted unto goodness in, 1714 
 Boast not the titles, 169 
 Books are men of, 350 
 Books are not seldom, 357 
 Books are part of, 346 
 Books are yours, Within, 359 
 Books cannot always please, 343 
 Books should to one,. 356 
 Both ways deceitful is, 146 
 Brave spirits are a, 618 
 Breathes there a man, 2654 
 Bride of the Lamb, 56 
 Bright, as the pillar, 1454 
 Bright shadows of true, 3256 
 Britain, the queen of, 1043 
 Bring the thrilling scene, 1469 
 Brother of fear, morq, 1869 
 Brutes find out where, 2382 
 Brutus and Caesar what, 2542 
 Build’st thou on wealth, 1343 
 Burns o’er the plough, 2774 
 Business might shorten, not, 2819 
 But all our praises, 291 
 But apt the mind, 3517 
 But an old age, 108 
 But as I mused, 3460 
 But as it sometimes, 838 
 But as the slightest, 2194 
 But be not long, 3259 
 But by your fathers, 169 
 But chiefly, man, the, 3016 
 But conscience in some, 372 
 But curses are like, 648 
 But do these words, 2387 
 But doth the exile’s, 1127 
 But dreadful is their, 910 
 But dream not helm, 1796 
 But dreams oft are, 925 
 But ever and anon, 2445 
 But flattery never seems, 1283 
 But God gives patience, 303 
 lint, grace, abuse, brings, 1577 
 But happy they, the, 1895 
 But human bodies are, 390 
 But I remember now, 1539 
 But if we fail, 2656 
 But if thy passions, 2627 
 
 But let eternal infamy, 3477 
 But light and airy, 604^ 
 
 But many a crime, 1666 
 
 But men He made, 2380 
 
 But mightiest of the, 2858 
 
 But no frail man, 1706 
 
 But not even pleasure, 2731 
 
 But, oh ! thou bounteous, 1520 
 
 But poverty, with most, 2780 
 
 But quiet to quick, 164 
 
 But scarce observed the, 2373 
 
 But seeming causes are, 1808 
 
 But slaves that once, 2210 
 
 But sometimes virtue starves, 3441 
 
 But strange indeed the, 2040 
 
 But tears, alas ! are, 3286 
 
 But that from us, 2832 
 
 But the day is, 321S 
 
 But the unfaithful pnest, 2482 
 
 But there are deeds, 1197 
 
 But there is joy, 2211 
 
 But there was one, 2489 
 
 But through the heart, 2059 
 
 But ’tis some justice, 1947 
 
 But to my mind, 649 
 
 But what avail her, 1349 
 
 But what is truth, 3388 
 
 But what of all, 1542 
 
 But what or who, 1474 
 
 But what most show’d, 3473 
 
 But when he pleaded, 1021 
 
 But when the silence, 2041 
 
 But where to find, 2653 
 
 But while hope lives, 363 
 
 But why, alas! do, 2524 
 
 But words are things, 3559 
 
 But yesterday the word, 751 
 
 By adversity are wrought, 73 
 
 By all means use, 3060 
 
 By ceaseless action all, 1126 
 
 By custom doom’d to, 355 ° 
 
 By day or night, 2238 
 By day she goes, 3587 
 By faith I see, 2451 
 By ignorance is pride, 1947 
 By improving what was, 2051 
 By Jove, the stranger, 1892 
 By Nature’s laws immutable, 1935 
 By nature peaceable and, 1426 
 By Nebo’s lonely mountain, 2504 
 By no means run, 1425 
 By original lapse, true, 1373 
 By Satan’s subtlety beguiled, 2619 
 By swift degrees the, 3556 
 By the blast of, 3062 
 By the high thrones, 707 
 By the poor widow’s, 1299 
 By trifles, in our, 371 _ 
 
 By viewing Nature, Nature s, 2561 
 By weakest ministers the, 2854 
 
 Calamity is man’s true, 381 
 Call in sweet music, 2559 
 Call now to mind, 6 
 Calm daughter of the, 2646 
 Calm me, my God, 382 
 Calmness is great advantage, 203 
 Can gold calm passion, 1537 
 Can I see another’s, 2734 
 Can riches keep the, 3487 
 Can that man be, 723 
 Can this be death, 751 
 Can wealth give happiness, 3119 
 Canst thou, and honour'd, 3119 
 Canst thou discern another s, 1056 
 Canst thou not minister, 1632 
 Canst thou tell me, 253 
 Canst thou thy body, 1813 
 Captivity is the inheritance, 1984 
 Care is no cure, 395 
 Care keeps his watch, 388 
 Care that is enter’d, 387 
 Careful, without care I, 394 
 Cast off the weakness, 3247 
 Catch, then, oh catch, 2283 
 Causes unjudged disgrace the, 212S 
 Cease every joy to, 1883 
 Cease to lament for, 1640 
 Cease, ye tearful mourners, 377 
 Ceaselessly the weaver, Tune, 3352 
 Celerity is never more, 38 
 
 Cellars and granaries in, 590 
 Ceremony was but devised, 404 
 Chains of my heart, 238 
 Chaos of thought and, 2376 
 Charity ever finds us, 417 
 Cheer’d with the law, 2187 
 Cheerful looks make every, 428 
 Child of my love, 374 
 Child of the sun, 489 
 Children are what the, 2309 
 Children like tender osiers, 1004 
 Children that lay their, 2977 
 Christ from the dead, 988 
 Christ had His friends, 1838 
 Christ had His sorrows, 3250 
 Christ the Lord is, 470 
 Christ, whose first appearance, 3052 
 Circles are praised not, 2263 
 Cities have been an, 766 
 Clamours our privacies uneasy, 1835 
 Cleon hath a million, 2772 
 Cling to the crucified, 2065 
 Close the door lightly, 731 
 Clouds of affection from, m 
 Cold in the dust, 1963 
 Cold words that hide, 1055 
 Come and rejoice with, 2087 
 Come, Disappointment, come! 866 
 Come forth ! come on, 1428 
 Come, heavenly Spirit, come, 1819 
 Come hither, ye faithful, 501 
 Come hither, ye that, 1936 
 Come, Holy Ghost ! in, 1820 
 Come, Holy Ghost, our, 1818 
 Come, Holy Spirit, from, 1821 
 Come, labour on : Who, 2695 
 Come, Lord, and tarry, 58 
 Come, now again thy, 554 
 Come read to me, 3137 
 Come, sleep, O sleep, 3128 
 Come the three corners, 1043 
 Come then, Affliction, if, 99 
 Come unto me ; with, 3079 
 Come, ye faithful, raise, 990 
 Come ye yourselves apart, 2983 
 Comfort, dear mother : Gqd, 740 
 Command but sparingly whom, 2796 
 Commands all light, all, 223 
 Commas and points that, 3384 
 Commentators each dark passage, 536 
 Commit thy way to, 195 
 Companion none is like, 3322 
 Composed of many thoughts, 347 
 Conceit in weakest bodies, 551 
 Condition, circumstance, is not, 336 
 Conscience, what art thou, 568 
 Consider how the desperate, 828 
 Consider, man, weigh well, 1065 
 Consider were it filial, 193 
 Consult your means, avoid, 2914 
 Contentment gives a crown, 595_ 
 Contentment, rosy, dimpled maid, 590 
 Convince the world that, 3384 
 Could atoms, which, with, 626 
 Could I command with, 1472 
 Could I, from heaven, 2569 
 Could not that wisdom, 2950 
 Could the wine cup, 3509 
 Could we with ink, 1490 
 Count all the advantage, 3429 
 Count each affliction whether, 92 
 Count o’er those lamps, 3218 
 Countless chords of heavenly, 215 
 Countless the various species, 3411 
 Courage, brother, do not, 2275 
 Courage from hearts and, 619 
 Courage uncertain dangers may, 620 
 Cover your hands, and, 2141 
 Cowards die many times, 624 
 Crabbed age and youth, 2406 
 Curst be the verse, 2570 
 Custom calls me to’t, 2595 
 Custom does often reason, 652 
 Custom forms us all, 652 
 Custom, ’tis true, a, 652 
 
 Daily and hourly proof, 2887 
 Damn with faint praise, 637 
 Danger lies in idly, 3566 
 Dare to be great, 137 
 Dare to do right, 23 
 
708 
 
 INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 
 
 Darkly we move, we, 1446 
 
 Daughters of Eve ! your, 907 
 
 Day dawn’d ; without a, 2236 
 
 Day of wrath ! that, 664 
 
 Dead ! are the tidings, 294 
 
 Deal gently with us, 1986 
 
 Dear Chloe, while the, 1828 
 
 Dear Hope ! earth’s dowry, 1859 
 
 Dear Lord, in all, 3175 
 
 Dear solitary groves where, 610 
 
 Dearly bought the hidden, 3070 
 
 Death in the pot, 1298 
 
 Death is a fearful, 761 
 
 Death is, no doubt, 1S26 
 
 Death is not dreadful, 716 
 
 Death is the crown, 717 
 
 Death is the pledge, 1981 
 
 Death is the port, 746 
 
 Death levels all things, 751 
 
 Death lies on her, 729 
 
 Death loves a shining, 723 
 
 Death may be call’d, 3253 
 
 Death ! to the happy, 744 
 
 Death treads in Pleasure’s, 2732 
 
 Death worketh, Let me, 1996 ' 
 
 Death’s but a path, 671 
 
 Deem not that they, 87 
 
 Deep subtle wits, In, 3522 
 
 Defer not till to-morrow, 784 
 
 Delightful task 1 to rear, 443 
 
 Depend upon it my, 170 
 
 Depend upon your husbanding, 1335 
 
 Desire himself runs out, 822 
 
 Desire not to live, 3338 
 
 Desire of praise first, 2797 
 
 Desire’s the vast extent, 823 
 
 Despair and anguish fled, 679 
 
 Despair not. Virtue, who, 833 
 
 Desponding fear, of feeble, 1251 
 
 Detraction’s a bold monster, 848 
 
 Did we think of, 3370 
 
 Dim as the borrow’d, 2926 
 
 Disappointment rather seem’d, 864 
 
 Discourses may want a, 604 
 
 Dissensions, like small streams, 2922 
 
 Do good by stealth, 1539 
 
 Do not as some, 2636 
 
 Do not cheat thy, 3161 
 
 Do not idolatnze beauty’s, 275 
 
 Do not insult calamity, 381 
 
 Do then as your, 169 
 
 Do thou, my soul, 2903 
 
 Do thou thy trust, 3048 
 
 Do what he will, 1953 
 
 Does the dark and, 804 
 
 Does the road wind, 2286 
 
 Domestic Happiness, thou only, 1685 
 
 Don’t catch the fidgets, 1125 
 
 Dost thou not know, 1244 
 
 Doubling things go ill, 911 
 
 Doubtless all souls have, 1967 
 
 Down the dark future, 2676 
 
 Down the smooth stream, 3628 
 
 Drawn by conceit from, 551 
 
 Dread is the leisure, 1524 
 
 Dream after dream ensues, 145 
 
 Dreams are but interludes, 918 
 
 Dreams, books, are each, 358 
 
 Drop follows drop and, 2013 
 
 Dull rogues affect the, 2756 
 
 Duncan is in his, 746 
 
 Duty by hatred is, 954 
 
 Duty ! Religion ! These our, 186 
 
 Each day his face, 1189 
 Each day, its duty, 943 
 Each had his conscience, 1374 
 Each individual seeks a, 2906 
 Each morn the bees, 3359 
 Each of these stars, 3218 
 Each petty hand can, 1569 
 Each proselyte would vote, 2714 
 Each son of Adam’s, 690 
 Each state must have, 2192 
 Each substance of a, 3172 
 Each villager has his, 166 
 Early from heaven it, 369 
 Earth has hosts, but, 1597 
 Earth has nothing sweet, 485 
 Earth to earth and, 1596 
 Earthly things are but, 2536 
 
 Earth s cup Is poison’d, 970 
 Earth’s highest station ends, 1855 
 Easier were it To, 2210 
 Easy in words thy, 3234 
 E’en not all these, 1703 
 E’en rage itself is, 2529 
 E’en times are in, 3332 
 England a happy land, 3257 
 England is safe, if, 1043 
 England, my country, great, 1040 
 England never did (nor, 1043 
 England, with all thy 7 , IO4O 
 Enlarge my life with, 2267 
 Envy is but the, 1053 
 Envy not greatness ; for, 1057 
 Envy will merit, as, 1052 
 Envy’s a sharper spur, 1062 
 Ere on my bed, 2834 
 Ere our dear Saviour, 2666 
 Ere sin could blight, 960 
 Ere wit oblique had, 2951 
 Ere yet the dawn, 471 
 Erewhile, on England’s pleasant, 1587 
 Error is a hardy, 1072 
 Errors, like straws, upon, 3388 
 Errors not to be, 616 
 Essential honour must be, 1394 
 Eternal Providence, exceeding thought, 
 2895 
 
 Eternal troubles haunt thy, 893 
 Eternity ! eternity ! How long, 1077 
 Eternity ! eternity ! That boundless, 1085 
 Eternity, thou awful gulf, 1436 
 Eternity, thou pleasing, dreadful, 1087 
 Eternity’s vast ocean lies, 1086 
 Ev’n I, but I can, 596 
 Ev’n the best must, 2560 
 Even in a palace, 1122 
 Even in the happiest. 2412 
 Even so the soul, 3199 
 Even with Thee, Almighty, 2610 
 Ever eating, never cloying, 3347 
 Every busy little scribbler, 242 
 Every house was an, 1892 
 Every man in this, 1195 
 Every one that flatters, 2493 
 Every pilot can steer, 3229 
 Every word he speaks, 1013 
 Evil into the mind, 3300 
 Evil is limited. One, 1102 
 Example is a living, 1109 
 Examples I could cite, 2885 
 Existence may be borne, 1319 
 Expect not more from, 3073 
 Experience is by industry, 1140 
 Experience join’d with common, 1143 
 Experience wounded is the, 1142 
 Express thyself in plain, 3234 
 Expression is the dress, 3234 
 Extended empire, like expanded, 1024 
 Extremes of fortune are, 1327 
 Extremes, though contrary, have, 1147 
 Eye Nature’s walks, shoot, 639 
 
 Fade, flowers, fade; nature, 1289 
 Fade, flowers! fade; nature. 1589 
 Fair Hope! our earlier, 1859 
 Fair is the sight, 1218 
 Fair Italy ! Thou art, 2056 
 Fair laughs the morn, 3632 
 Fairest Lord Jesus, Ruler, 3156 
 Faith builds a bridge, 1176 
 Faith is the subtle, 1186 
 Faith, like an unsuspecting, 1156 
 Faith loves to learn, 1155 
 Faith of our fathers, 1174 
 Faith we may boast, 647 
 False eloquence, like the, 1022 
 False friends, like insects, 1387 
 false philosophy inspires fallacious, 2703 
 Fame ! Fame ! thou canst, 1200 
 Fame is the shade, 1200 
 Fame is the spur, 1212 
 Fame is but a hollow, 3410 
 Fancy can save or, 1955 
 Far from the madd’ning, 2681 
 Far from these narrow, 1753 
 Farewell ! Farewell ! is often, 1543 
 Farewell, ye gilded follies, 239 
 Fashion, leader of, 1225 
 fat paunches have lean, i486 
 
 Fatal effects of luxury, 320a 
 Father ! by Thy love, 1093 
 father of heaven and, 1096 
 Father of light and, 1503 
 Father ! the sweetest, dearest, 1518- 
 Father, Thy hand Hath, 1303 
 Father, who to us, 1393 
 Fathers alone a father’s, 1238 
 Faultless thou dropt from, 136S 
 faults in the life, 1244 
 Fear, guilt, despair, and, 3233 
 Fear is the last, 1255 
 Fear is the tax, 1254 
 Fear on guilt attends, 1254 
 f earless he sees, who, 3427 
 Fever'd by long unrest, 916 
 Few are so wicked, 3494 
 Few are the clear, 1009 
 Few know of life’s, 2248 
 Few men dare show, 1916 
 Few, save the poor, 2762 
 Fields are full of, 401 
 Fierce was the wild, 2665 
 Fighting the battle of, 269 
 f dial ingratitude, Is it, 2023 
 Fill the bright goblet, 1261 
 Fill thou my life, 2791 
 Fine thoughts are wealth, 3327 
 Firm and resolved by, 3604 
 First appetite enlists him, 1073 
 First Envy, eldest born. 2520 
 First follow Nature and, 2551 
 First guilty conscience doth, 562 
 first in man’s mind, 2170 
 First offer incense, then, 126 
 First what is true, 165 
 Fit words attend on, 1022 
 Five hundred princely guests, 1260. 
 f latter}'- but ill becomes, 1284 
 Flung to the heedless, 2420 
 Fly drunkenness, whose vile, 937 
 Fly, envious time, till, 3350 
 Foil d by our fellow-men, 1433 
 Fond, foolish man! with, 716 
 f ool! I mean not, 3253 
 Fools into the notion, 3424 
 f ools may our scorn, 1052 
 For ah ! my heart, 3621 
 For all that God, 3310 
 For an}' man to, 2413 
 For as the light, 1109 
 For as we see, 3410 
 For beauty’s tears are, 3284 
 For days I have, 898 
 For envy doth invade, 1060 
 For ever with the, 1966 
 For every case I, 389 
 For every want that, 2738 
 For everything contains within, 105& 
 For evils which are, 2962 
 For fame the wretch, 1202 
 For fools rush in, 1300 
 For forms of government, 2756 
 For and well, 36 
 For herein Fortune shows, 1338 
 For his beauty There, 362 
 For I dipt into, 2466 
 f or just experience tells, 1576 
 For look again on, 1070 
 For nothing lovelier can, 3500 
 For not the ceaseless, 3363 
 For now I stand, 830 
 For of the soul, 2712 
 For oh ! while others, 330 
 For orders and degrees, 2208 
 For praise too dearly, 279 
 for solitude, however some, 3150 
 For the true condition, 1054 
 For this world’s glory, 1480 
 For though the judge, 563 
 For vicious natures, when, 2019 
 For what is freedom, 1369 
 For when I feel, 159 
 For within the hollow, 682 
 For wonderful indeed are, 1526 
 For your behaviour, let, 1460 
 forgive thy foe—nor, 1307 
 Forgiveness to the injured, 1312 
 Forthwith the cited dead, 2099 
 f ortune in men has, 928 
 fortune’s an under power, 1334. 
 
INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 
 
 7 09 
 
 Fortunes are made of, 1340 
 
 Forward let the people, 1258 
 
 Foul Jealousy ! that turned, 2059 
 
 Fountain of mercy ! whose, 1580 
 
 Frail creatures are we, 1344 
 
 Frame your mind to, 2487 
 
 Freedom who loves must, 1354 
 
 Fresh glides the brook, 3020 
 
 Fresh hopes are hourly, 121 
 
 Frequent debauch to habitude, 2045 
 
 Friend after friend departs, 1392 
 
 Friendly the teacher stood, 3282 
 
 Friends counsel quick dismission, 1033 
 
 Friends, not adopted with, 1382 
 
 Friendship has a power, 1424 
 
 Friendship is no plant, 1407 
 
 Friendship is still accompanied, 1414 
 
 Friendship’s an abstract of, 1413 
 
 Friendship’s the privilege of, 1402 
 
 From Adam to his, 2108 
 
 From a dark cloud, 1907 
 
 From dearth to plenty, 2563 
 
 From earth all came, 677 
 
 From every piercing sorrow, 317 1 
 
 From labour health, from, 2178 
 
 From little matters let, 198 
 
 From lowest place when, 777 
 
 From Nature’s constant or, 781 
 
 From Nature’s continent immensely, 747 
 
 From other care absolved, 1933 
 
 From purer manners to, 1167 
 
 From realm to realm, 2670 
 
 From saint to saint, 3028 
 
 From storms of rage, 2912 
 
 From that day forth, 2522 
 
 From the body of, 1668 
 
 From the eternal shadow, 797 
 
 From the monarch’s virtue, 2144 
 
 From the recesses of, 2818 
 
 From the sad years, 1691 
 
 Frontless and satire-proof, 3038 
 
 Full many a stoic, 3138 
 
 Full many a storm, 830 
 
 Full many mischiefs follow, 182 
 
 Full of vows and, 967 
 
 Full short his journey, 668 
 
 Fye ! fye! unknit that, 3499 
 
 ’Gainst self-slaughter there, 3253 
 
 Garnish’d like him, that, 3234 
 
 Gather up, O earth, 376 
 
 Gather ye rose-buds, 3351 
 
 Gay hope is theirs, 3632 
 
 Gaze upon the shade, 1200 
 
 Genius ! thou gift of, 1455 
 
 Gently I took that, 1242 
 
 Get ye up from, 3143 
 
 Give as the morning, 1473 
 
 Give me a staff, 1853 
 
 Give me flattery, Fiattery, 1278 
 
 Give me honours, what, 1855 
 
 Give me leave to, 353 
 
 Give me long dreams, 2730 
 
 Give me, O Father, 2804 
 
 Give me the avow’d, 1379 
 
 Give me the lowest, 1911 
 
 Give me the sweet, 2543 
 
 Give me thy thoughts, 1396 
 
 Give sorrow words, the, 1643 
 
 Give us light amid, 36x0 
 
 Gladsome the bells so, 3599 
 
 Glittering stones, and golden, 3490 
 
 Glory is like a, 1480 
 
 Glory to God ! thou, 1485 
 
 Glory to God ! though, 3323 
 
 Glories, like glow-worms, 1478 
 
 Go abroad upon the, 2564 
 
 Go boldly on. Do, 3008 
 
 Go, buy thee new, 3005 
 
 Go, climb the rugged, 139 
 
 Go, feel, what I, 2044 
 
 Go, little Book! from, 344 
 
 Go, make thy garden, 1114 
 
 Go, miser ! go : for, 251 
 
 Go, silly worm, drudge, 25 
 
 Go thou, in life’s, 962 
 
 Go to thy rest, 961 
 
 Go, when the hunter’s, 897 
 
 Go when the morning, 2833 
 
 Goaded by ambition’s sting, 3399 
 
 God beholds thee, wretch, 1924 
 
 God gives us love, 2346 
 God gives us men, 3603 
 God gives us what, 2822 
 God hath yoked to, 1664 
 God in the gospel, 1851 
 God is also in, 925 
 God keeps a niche, 1946 
 God knows—not I, 2602 
 God lent him and, 441 
 God liveth ever ! Wherefore, 1492 
 God made his grave, 2504 
 God made the country, 610 
 God made thee perfect, 1374 
 God might have made, 1293 
 God never had a, 507 
 God of the swiftly-rolling, 1711 
 God sent His Singers, 3102 
 God will deign To, 1497 
 God’s ways seem dark, 2100 
 God’s ways are not, 3239 
 God’s world is bathed, 3574 
 Going home ! and going, 1771 
 Gold ! gold ! gold ! gold, 1533 
 Gold ! Gold! in all, 1531 
 Gold is the greatest, 1532 
 Gold ! many hunted, sweat, 1532 
 Good actions crown themselves, 24 
 Good-bye, proud world, 3585 
 Good deeds in this, 1547 
 Good Heaven, whose darling, 2447 
 Good nature and good, 1306 
 Good name in man, 1556 
 Good name was dear, 1555 
 Good, Only, is great, 1562 
 Good striving brings thriving, 47 
 Good, the more Communicated, 1545 
 Goodness is beauty in, 1559 
 Grace leads the right, 1372 
 Grand is the leisure, 3455 
 Grant the bad what, 1684 
 Grateful to acknowledge whence, 834 
 Great Britain has her, 2495 
 Great Day 1 for which, 2102 
 Great honours are great, 859 
 Great man ! the nation’s, 3035 
 Great minds, like heaven, 417 
 Great Or bright infers, 1620 
 Great sorrows have no, 3185 
 Great souls by instinct, 1414 
 Great truths are deadly. 3392 
 Great wits are sure, 2033 
 Great wits and valours, 1612 
 Great wits sometimes may, 639 
 Green as the bay-tree, 3615 
 Grief conceal'd, like heaven, 1629 
 Grief hath changed me, 1634 
 j Grieve not that I, 3612 
 Grim-hearted world, that, 1194 
 Guilt is a timorous, 1669 
 Guilt is the source, 1664 
 
 Habitual evils change not, 1671 
 Had I a thousand, 1728 
 Had I miscarried, I, 3244 
 Had memory been lost, 2439 
 Had not the milder, 2454 
 Had the cat wings, 3527 
 Hadst thou stay’d I, 953 
 Hail, Day of days ! 995 
 Hail, friendship ! since the, 1399 
 Hail, heavenly voice, once, 795 
 Hail, Holy Day! the, 3016 
 Hail, Holy Light, offspring, 2292 
 Hail, horrors ! hail, Infernal, 2478 
 Hail, Independence—by true, 1989 
 Hail,Independence ; hail,Heaven's, 
 Hail, kingly Jesus ! lo, 2590 
 Hail the day that, 210 
 Hail, thou Head! so, 762 
 Hail to the day, 3015 
 Half mankind maintain a, 2938 
 Half of the ills, 1639 
 Hallelujah ! I believe! Now, 1158 
 Happiness is a stranger, 1702 
 Happiness, object of that, 1696 
 Happy are those That, 1706 
 Happy he with such, 2509 
 Happy soul! thy days, 687 
 Happy the man, and, 1679 
 Happy the man, whose, 2271 
 Happy the schoolboy ! Did, 3623 
 
 5,1989 
 
 Happy were men if, 1539 
 Hard are the life’s, 2248 
 Hard by Truth’s temple, 3385 
 Hard features every bungler, 2614 
 Hard is his fate, 2453 
 Hark, hark, my soul, 2720 
 Hark ! heard ye not, 3117 
 Hark, my soul, how, 2789 
 Hark, the faint bells, 2438 
 Hark, the rustle of, 2864 
 Hark, the voice of, 3075 
 Has virtue charms? I, 3426 
 Hast thou attempted greatness, 2698 
 Hast thou e’er seen, 1741 
 Hast thou no friend, 3327 
 Hast thou not bid, 2362 
 Hast thou not seen, 978 
 Hast thou then been, 2180 
 Hast thou within a, 190 
 Haste not: the flying, 2648 
 Have pity on them, 2763 
 Have you not secured, 2989 
 Have you read in, 2048 
 Having done all, to, 1035 
 He at Venice gave, 750 
 He came a leper, 2075 
 He came, heaven’s glories, 500 
 He could not either, 203 
 He deserves small trust, 3048 
 He does allot for, 1126 
 He enter’d in his, 1833 
 He hangs upon me, 829 
 He ill aspires to, 3225 
 He is a good, 2035 
 He is a noble, 1462 
 He is a path, 484 
 He is a poor, 2965 
 He is gone—we, 212 
 He is never poor, 2781 
 He is the freeman, 1347 
 He is the happy, 1687 
 He keeps his temper’d, 1553 
 He laughs at all, 1068 
 He liveth long who, 2255 
 He lives who lives, 2240 
 He looks abroad into, 2548 
 He made the stars, 3220 
 He may not, as, 2146 
 He mourns the dead, 2519 
 He prayeth well who, 2809 
 He sat within a, 585 
 He 'scapes the best, 2713 
 He sleeps, if it, 3136 
 He slept beneath the, 2058 
 He speaks reservedly, but, 3234 
 He stands and knocks, 539 
 He swears, but he, 1667 
 He that acts unjustly, 1663 
 He that bears himself, 1460 
 He that built up, 240 
 He that commits a, 3093 
 He that doth public, 2022 
 He that for love, 3100 
 He that Foretells his, 1638 
 He that from dross, 91 
 He that has nature, 1584 
 He that hath found, 804 
 He that high growth, 1899 
 He that holds fast, 588 
 He that intends well, 816 
 He that is ambitious, 2541 
 He that is down, 1900 
 He that is drunken, 2045 
 He that kills himself, 3253 
 He that loves a, 3555 
 He that negotiates between, 2849 
 He that of greatest, 399 
 He that once sins, 3097 
 He that outlives Nestor, 3137 
 He that shall rail, 3040 
 He that’s liberal to, 362 
 He that’s ungrateful has, 2028 
 He transgresseth yet again, 3495 
 He turns with anxious, 255 
 He was exhaled ; his, 763 
 He who ascends to, 162 
 He who contends for, 3366 
 He who flies in, 2698 
 He who hath never, 73 
 He who is only, 2134 
 He who, malignant, tears, 1404 
 
7io 
 
 INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 
 
 He who once sins, 1660 
 He who the sword, 2696 
 He who will not, 1409 
 He whose mind is, 3438 
 He’d undertake to prove, 203 
 He’s a foolish seaman, 3081 
 He’s a king. A, 2153 
 He’s truly valiant that, 619 
 Heads bow, knees bend, 2469 
 Health and liberty attended, 3294 
 Health, brightest visitant from,'1716 
 Hear the just law, 3391 
 Hear, then, what faith, 1159 
 Hearken unto a verser, 2748 
 Heart gazing mournfully Back, 29 
 Heaven asks no surplice, 851 
 Heaven darkly works, 2903 
 Heaven from all creatures, 1432 
 Heaven gives us friends, 1424 
 Heaven is not reach’d, 1765 
 Heaven is the magazine, 2837 
 Heaven made us agents, 1374 
 Heaven may awhile correct, 2032 
 Heaven me such uses, 1119 ■ 
 
 Heaven, that knows the, 3287 
 Heaven waxeth old, and, 3201 
 Heavenly Helper, Friend Divine, 3076 
 Heavenward still our pathway, 1784 
 Hell hath no limits, 1792 
 Hence springs that universal, 1976 
 Her ceaseless flight, though, 320" 
 
 Her end is to, 2948 
 
 Her humble gestures made, 1012 
 
 Her pious love excell’d, 2506 
 
 Her suffering ended with, 3251 
 
 Her voice was ever, 3451 
 
 Here are the prude, 1593 
 
 Here, attired beyond our, 929 
 
 Here behold me as, 773 
 
 Here bliss is short, 984 
 
 Here bring your wounded, 3165 
 
 Here, here it lies, 562 
 
 Here in Thy royal, 1810 
 
 Here is one that, 119 
 
 Here is the house, 3200 
 
 Here is the spring, 3044 
 
 Here, like a shepherd, 148 
 
 Here Marah’s water fills, 1866 
 
 Here the o’erloaded slave, 1600 
 
 Here the tongue warrior, 1589 
 
 Here the warm lover, 1600 
 
 Here, too, dwells simple, 610 
 
 Here, while I roved, 2437 
 
 Hereditary bondsmen ! know ye, i3e-> 
 
 Hew Atlas for my, 151 
 
 Hide not thy tears, 3287 
 
 High minds of nature, 2937 
 
 High stations tumults, but, 1614 
 
 High thoughts and words, 2844’ 
 
 High thoughts at first, 2851 
 
 High walls and huge, 2469 
 
 High worth is elevated, 3438 
 
 Higher, higher we climb, 3617 
 
 Him God beholding from, 1192 
 
 Him on yonder cross, 2341 
 
 His be the praise, 2103 
 
 II is comrade, too, arose, 2829 
 
 His courtiers of the, 1273 
 
 His eloquence is classic, 1022 
 
 His eye no more, 2954 
 
 His faith perhaps in, 1163 
 
 His faults, that in, 1113 
 
 His fear was greater, 1252 
 
 His gardens next your, 1457 
 
 His Holy Spirit dwelleth, 1814 
 
 His nature is too, 1842 
 
 His praise of foes, 2802 
 
 His sleep was airy, 3127 
 
 His soul, like bark, 2627 
 
 His sweetness won a, 1463 
 
 His temper therefore must, 2964 
 
 His tongue Dropp’d manna, 10x6 
 
 His travel has not, 3363 
 
 His trust was with, 140 
 
 His putrid morals mend, 2614 
 
 His words are bonds, 3101 
 
 His words seem d oracles, 1013 
 
 His years but young, 2101 
 
 Historians, only things of, 1808 
 
 Ho, all who labour, 1992 
 
 Holy Ghost, Illuminator, Shed, 956 
 
 Holy Ghost, with light, 1818 
 Home is the resort, 1828 
 Home is the sphere, 1828 
 Home, kindred, friends, and, 1137 
 Home’s not merely four, 1822 
 Honour and shame from, 1622 
 Honour—in blood congeal’d, 1852 
 Honour is like that, 1S54 
 Honour, my Lord, is, 1853 
 Honour’s a fine imaginary, 1854 
 Honour’s a sacred life, 1853 
 Hope, eager Hope, the, 1880 
 Hope ! fortune’s cheating lottery, 1S69 
 Hope leads from goal, 1871 
 Hope leads the child, 1881 
 Hope not to find, 1418 
 Hope of all ill, 1882 
 Hope of all persons, 1872 
 Hope of our heart, 1886 
 Hope sets the stamp, 1867 
 Hope, whose weak being, 1885 
 Hope with a goodly, 1871 
 Hope with uplifted foot, 1S72 
 Hope’s at best a, 1869 
 Hope’s precious pearl in, 1870 
 Hopes, what are they, 1S91 
 How awful is that, 572 
 How beautiful is genius, 1458 
 How beautiful is the, 2924 
 How beautiful it is, 24S0 
 How blest is the, 108 
 How blest the sacred, 1267 
 How bright to him. 3623 
 How charming is divine, 2708 
 How cheap Is genuine, 1699 
 How empty learning and, 2202 
 How fading are the, 2093 
 How false are men, 1195 
 How talse is found, 1138 
 How few are found, 2446 
 | How gaily is at, 3624 
 How goes the fight, 270 
 How guilty, once harbour’d, 1664 
 How happy is he, 1679 
 How happy is that, 3132 
 How is it o’er, 3373 
 How large are our, 818 
 How like a friend, 3464 
 How like a mounting, 144 
 How like a prison’s, 2873 
 I How little do they, 2097 
 How long, O Lord, 60 
 How loved, how honour’d, 1855 
 How many fell, this, 2490 
 How miserable a thing, 2994 
 How much there is, 2604 
 How much they err, 2994 
 How oft that virtue, 791 
 How poor are they, 2650 
 How poor, how rich, 2376 
 How pregnant, sometimes, his, 2033 
 How proud we are, 933 
 Flow rash, how inconsiderate, 3001 
 How rich in humble, 610 
 How sad a sight, 1681 
 How seldom, friend, a, 1604 
 How shall I praise, 1170 
 How shall I speak, 2853 
 How shall we learn, 3207 
 How shall my cold, 608 
 How sharper than a, 444 
 How shocking must they, 684 
 How sleep the brave, 2657 
 How slow the time, 46 
 How smooth and even, 1923 
 How soft the music, 2529 
 How soon would ease, 2612 
 How strange a riddle, 3425 
 How strangely active are, 2664 
 How sweet it were, 1893 
 How sweet the gospel, 1568 
 How terrible is passion, 2625 
 How use doth breed, 1673 
 How vain all outward, 1632 
 How vain are all, 170 
 How vain that second, 120-0 
 How various his enjoyments, 1938 
 How we poor piayers, 2842 
 How weary and how, 841 
 How wisely fate ordain’d, 381 
 How wonderful is Death, 3134 
 
 How would you be, 2*49 
 Howe’er it be, it, 1562 
 Plumble we must be, 1906 
 Humility is eldest-born of, 1913 
 Humility is the softening. 1910 
 Humility mainlv becometh the, i 
 Humility, that low, sweet, 1914 
 Hush the loud cannon, 1897 
 Hyperboles, so daring and, 3234 
 Hypocrisy, detest her as, 1920 
 Hypocrisy, the onty evil, 1919 
 
 I a long journey, 2227 
 I am a heavy, 2054 
 I am a humble, 136 
 I am a woman, 3545 
 I am ashamed that, 3500 
 I am as one, 145 
 I am constant as, 582 
 I am devout to, 3233 
 I am not of, 3073 
 I am not old, 1744 
 I am one, my, 828 
 I am tired of, 1049 
 I am told, thou, 3399 
 I am waiting by, 760 
 I ask not for, 1848 
 I ask not, now, 2973 
 I ask not, take, 1177 
 I ask what He, 65 
 I ask’d an aged, 3353 
 I ask’d the Lord, 1650 
 I believe this earth, 969 
 I bore with thee, 467 
 I cannot choose, I, 2417 
 I cannot coldly pass, 1064 
 I cannot hide what, 3101 
 I cannot love as. 2629 
 I cannot make him, 435 
 I cannot open my, 2500 
 I cannot speak, tears, 2094 
 I care not, so, 1740 
 I charge thee, fling, 152 
 I come, O Lord, 266 
 I come to Thee, 1094 
 I count myself in, 1411 
 I count the hope, 2936 
 I courted fame but, 1221 
 I’d rather like the, 2994 
 I do despise these, 793 
 I do not doubt, 2719 
 I don’t believe in, 632 
 I drank, I liked, 2002 
 I drink so deep, 3186 
 I envy not their, 1059 
 I feel death rising, 704 
 I feel no care, 3490 
 I feel the mighty, 1435 
 I gaze upon the, 1051 
 I give and I, 250 
 I give my heart, 772 
 I go to life, 694 
 I had a dream, 845 
 I had a friend, 1415 
 I had drunk with, 3315 
 I hate dependence on, 807 
 I hate ingratitude in, 2028 
 I hate that drum’s, 3476 
 I hate the camp, 3144 
 I hate these potent, 3477 
 I have been base, 2027 
 I have consider’d things, 2752 
 I have fed Perhaps, 1959 
 I have learn’d that, 788 
 I have learn’d This, 1972 
 I have lived long, 102 
 I have neither wit, 361 
 I have no dread, 830 
 I have no taste, 2764 
 I have not loved, 35S5 
 I have seen the, 2764 
 I have too deeply, 1406 
 I hear thee speak, 2188 
 I hear the words, 2677 
 I heard of a, 491 
 I hoped that with, 3235 
 j I ken the night, 329 
 I I know what study, 3233 
 j I know not if, 556 
 I know not the, 1658 
 I I know not what, 20 
 
 903. 
 
INDEX OF FIRST LINES . 
 
 7 ii 
 
 I know not what, 2911 
 I know thee not, 109 
 I know thy loyal, 1139 
 I lay ill; And, 1948 
 I lay me down, 391 
 I lay my sins, 2071 
 I like that ancient, 379 
 I live among the, 769 
 I live for those, 2270 
 I look down upon, 3357 
 I look into my, 817 
 I look to Thee, 1523 
 I love Dinant, mine, 1036 
 I love the brooks, 2556 
 I marvel not, O, 3254 
 I may not scorn, 3041 
 I mourn no more, 431 
 I murmur not, Father, 304 
 I need a cleansing, 605 
 I need Thee, precious, 2070 
 I never did repent, 3441 
 I never gave you, 1471 
 I never spoke the, 2621 
 I often say my, 2815 
 I own my natural, 3468 
 I pass through flattery’s, 1275 
 I pity bashful men, 2498 
 I praise the earth, 983 
 I praise you much, 1989 
 I pray thee, cease, 1645 
 I pray thee, peace, 2706 
 I remember, I remember, 2437 
 I run the gauntlet, 911 
 I sat alone with, 560 
 I sat in the, 3160 
 I saw one man, 2855 
 I saw the virtuous, 3441 
 I say to all, 987 
 I say to thee, 1363 
 I scorn this hatred, 1195 
 I see the errors, 2931 
 I see the right, 3606 
 I see them with, 303c 
 I see there’s no, 1692 
 I see to argue, 204 
 I should be happy, 2407 
 I shut my eyes, 3386 
 I sometimes think God’s, 546 
 I stand without here, 794 
 I strive like to, 3507 
 I talk of dreams, 918 
 I tell you hopeless, 830 
 I thank Thee, Lord, 2481 
 I’ the world’s volume, 1042 
 I think if thou, 549 
 I think we are, 548 
 I took him for, 557 
 I under fair pretence, 1925 
 I venerate the man, 2S48 
 I want to be, 3148^ 
 
 I was bom with, 1614 
 I was no stranger, 1777^ 
 
 I was sitting alone, 234S 
 I waste no more, 1990 
 I watch the circle, 1360 
 I wear not the, 3340 
 I weep, but not, 3493 
 I weep that all, 3329 
 I weigh not fortunes, 597 
 I will not dream, 3454 
 I will not let, 1184 
 I worship Thee, sweet, 2583 
 I would give worlds, 1277 
 I would have gone, 874 
 I would I were, 1754 
 I would my gift, 3596 
 I would not always, 2931 
 I would not enter, 646 
 I would not live, 976 
 I would not waste, 1937 
 If a liar accuseth, 3114 
 If a man would, 178 
 If a soul thou, 2136 
 If all the world, 2186 
 If all the year, 2580 
 If any consolation be, 579 
 If apostolic gravity be, mi 
 If aught obstruct thy, 2695 
 If bliss had lain, 1182 
 If but one virtue, 2128 
 If by prayer Incessant, 2825 
 
 If casual concourse did, 2607 
 If dead, we cease, 1965 
 If faith with reason, 1169 
 If for a world, 3188 
 If forced from faith, 1165 
 If fortune has a, 2759 
 If from society we, 730 
 If, gracious God, in, 601 
 If happiness be a, 2999 
 If Heaven did in, 2449 , 
 
 If hoarded gold possess’d, 758 
 If I could live, 1T72 
 If I could love, 2343 
 If I lose mine, 1853 
 If I were told, 685 
 If I’m assaulted by, 3056 
 If I’m traduced by, 31x4 
 If in thy heart, 656 
 If Jesus came to, 1296 
 If like a hundred, 2278 
 If little faults proceeding, 2459 
 If little labour, little, 2185 
 If loftier posts superior, 1752 
 If men of good, 1165 
 If not to some, 3233 
 If one had watch’d, 703 
 If satire charms, strike, 3038 
 If so a poor, 576 
 If solid happiness we, 1703 
 If solitude succeeds to, 3149 
 If stores of dry, 2420 
 If then all souls, 1976 
 If there be a, 2028 
 If there be an, 3253 
 If there is happiness, 1217 
 If there’s a power, 3423 
 If this great world, 2117 
 If this mute earth, 236 
 If thou art merry, 307 
 If thou art rich, 3004 
 If thou covet death, 4S2 
 If thou dost ill, 34 
 If thou hast lost, 1389 
 If thou well observe, 3294 
 If to-day thou, 482 
 If to Judsea we, 1038 
 If we cannot have, 592 
 If we knew the, 1979 
 If we knew when, 2171 
 If we see right, 1147 
 If we with earnest, 852 
 If well I know, 2528 
 If when the Lord, 1493 
 If yon bright stars, 2996 
 If you cannot on, 2499 
 Ignorance is the curse, 1947 
 Ignorance of happiness, and, 2S22 
 I’ll carve our passion, 2068 
 I’ll go to Jesus, 847 
 I’ll introduce thee to, 1729 
 I’ll ne’er distrust my, 1x79 
 I’ll not chide thee, 1309 
 I’ll tell thee what, 1792 
 Ill do you know, 2142 
 Ill fares the land, 2681 
 
 Ill-fated race! the, 3118 
 
 Ill-grounded passions quickly, 22O9 
 Ill-weaved ambition, how, 735 
 I’m dumb as solemn, 1643 
 Immodest words admit ot, 1961 
 Immortal Love for ever, 4C7 _ 
 
 Immortality o’ersweeps All pains, 1974 
 Imprison not Within thy, 365 
 In age and feebleness, 117 
 In all men from, 1202 
 In all my wanderings, 1026 
 In alms regard thy, 135 
 In an old church-yard, 2506 
 In ancient times the, 125 
 In argument. Similes are, 203 
 In bower and garden, 583 
 In care they live, 1612 
 In companions lhat do, 1412 
 In contemplation of created, 25C1 
 In days of old, 2868 
 In due observance of, 2004 
 In either hand the., 998 
 In every breast there, 2622 
 In every government, thougn, 1574 
 In every heart are, 3467 
 In folly’s heart love’s, 1420 
 
 In gentle love the, 2059 
 In his duty prompt, 2635 ' 
 
 In His furrow’d fields, 3567 
 In human hearts what, 3359 
 In human works though, 526 
 In idle wishes fools, 3527 
 In lazy apathy let, 2709 
 In life’s last scene, 114 
 In losing fortune, many, 1332 
 In loving thou dost, 2353 
 In man or woman, 77 
 In May when sea-winds, 1288 
 In mind, in matter, 1987 
 In my boy’s loud, 84 
 In Nature there’s no, 1559 
 In parts superior what, 1605 
 In pastures green—not, 480 
 In paths unknown we, 812 
 In prayer an outward, 2840 
 In pride, in reas’ning, 2870 
 In proud humility a, 190X 
 In reason’s absence follow, 2033 
 In restless pain we, 999^ 
 
 In reverence will we, 2817 
 In Shiraz grows a, 3577^ 
 
 In silence wise men, 3089 
 In simple manners all, 2405 
 In sleep, when fancy, 918 
 In solitude what happens, 3150 
 In some wild Eastern, 2306 
 In stress of weather, 1211 
 In such a world, 2644 
 In such business, Action, ion 
 In the body’s prison, 3198 
 In the bonds of, 680 
 In the corrupted currents, 2119 
 In the dark eyes, 3164 
 In the fount of, 1767 
 In the hour of, 2294 
 In the hours of, 1815 
 In the human breast, 2622 
 In the June twilight, 670 
 In the long vista, 1355 
 In the nine heavens, 327 
 In the same beaten, 3263 
 In the silent midnight, 607 
 In the soul are, 1222 
 In the still wise, 872 
 In the sweet morn, 3623 
 In the vast and, 1526 
 In Thee my powers, 1674 
 In thee, oppressors soothe, 3132 
 In them, we Who, 354 
 In this dim world, 181 
 In this one passion, 2622 
 In this wild maze, 151Q 
 In vain doth man, 853 
 In vain on study, 3233 
 In vain the sage, 2511 
 In vain we fondly, 2710 
 In Weimar’s orphanage, as, 275b 
 In what a strange, 261 
 Indeed true gladness doth, 2094 
 Induce not precocity of, 1004 
 Industrious wisdom often does, 2000 
 Ingratitude is a monster, 2025 
 Ingratitude ! thou marble-hearted, 2023 
 Innocence shall make faise, 2032 
 Innocence unmoved At a, 2032 
 Innocent dreams be thme, 919 
 Inquirer, cease ! petitions yet, 2014 
 Inspiring thought of rapture, i £°4 
 Intemp’rate youth, by sad, 2044 
 Intrust thy fortunes to, 2909 
 Invention is activity of, 2050 
 Is all the counsel, 1410 
 Is beauty vain because, 284 
 Is death more cruel, 3463 
 Is fasting then the, 1231 
 Is he not sailing, 1715 
 Is it a long, 1645 
 Is it indeed so, 82 
 Is it not monstrous, 2727 
 Is it not strange, 532 
 Is’t death to fall, 1348 
 Is not the care, 525 
 Is not the way, 33 6 9 
 Is sparkling wit the, 271G 
 Is there aught in, 3133 
 Is there, for honest, 2396 
 Is thy cruse of, 530 
 
712 
 
 INDEX OF FIRST LINES . 
 
 Island of bliss ! amid, 1043 
 It addeth immortality to, 243 
 It came upon the, 503 
 It came upon us, 264 
 It easeth some, through, 3158 
 It fortifies my soul, 3381 
 It grieves me to, 3236 
 It happen’d on a, 538 
 It happen’d when a, 3057 
 It hath pleased the, 940 
 
 It 
 
 is 
 
 a busy, 3110 
 
 It 
 
 is 
 
 a dangerous, 574 
 
 It 
 
 is 
 
 a kind, 1544 
 
 It 
 
 is 
 
 a monitory, 688 
 
 It 
 
 is 
 
 a note, 18 
 
 It 
 
 is 
 
 a shame, 3099 
 
 It 
 
 is 
 
 a vain, 3367 
 
 It 
 
 is 
 
 ever thus, 1696 
 
 It 
 
 is 
 
 indeed a, 170 
 
 It 
 
 is 
 
 Jealousy’s peculiar, 2059 
 
 It 
 
 is 
 
 my natal, 322 
 
 It 
 
 is 
 
 not death, 753 
 
 It 
 
 is 
 
 not from, 2386 
 
 It 
 
 is 
 
 not growing, 1648 
 
 It 
 
 is 
 
 not heavy,641 
 
 It 
 
 is 
 
 not so, 2907 
 
 It 
 
 is 
 
 not strange, 642 
 
 It 
 
 is 
 
 not thy,905 
 
 It 
 
 is 
 
 not well, 878 
 
 It 
 
 is 
 
 sad to, 1873 
 
 It 
 
 is 
 
 so little, 1151 
 
 It 
 
 is 
 
 the constant, 1048 
 
 It 
 
 is 
 
 the curse, 2156 
 
 It 
 
 is 
 
 the secret, 3265 
 
 It 
 
 is 
 
 Thy voice, 3450 
 
 It 
 
 is 
 
 well he, 2038 
 
 It may be in, 63 
 
 It may he so, 3201 
 
 It moves thee more, 3523 
 
 It must he done, 761 
 
 It must be so, 1973 
 
 It needs no guards, 260 
 
 It open’d the niggard’s, 167 
 
 It was a brave, 1082 
 
 It was a golden, 209 
 
 It was a worthy, 246c 
 
 It was hut a, 3559 
 
 It was good, it, 1447 
 
 It was noon. And, 9 
 
 It was, we own, 1043 
 
 It was withal a, 1915 
 
 It’s a work of, 3295 
 
 It’s my honest conviction, 414 
 
 I’ve found a joy, 529 
 
 I’ve known the pregnant, 1013 
 
 I’ve pored o’er many, 2509 
 
 I’ve sought Thee early,590 
 
 I’ve thought of all, 1463 
 
 I’ve tried this world, 3575 
 
 Jealousy, saidst thou? I, 2059 
 
 Jerusalem ! alas ! alas ! of, 2063 
 
 Jesus, I live to, 2233 
 
 Jesus, Immanuel, Saviour ! Words, 2070 
 
 Jesus is God ! the, 901 
 
 Jesus lives, and so, i860 
 
 Jesus, pitying Saviour, hear, 2675 
 
 Jesus, the friend of, 2077 
 
 Jesus, these eyes have, 488 
 
 Jesus, Thou joy of, 2074 
 
 Jesus ! when I fainting, 2072 
 
 Jesus ! when my soul, 2067 
 
 Jesus, whose name the, 2359 
 
 Joy dwells not in, 2090 
 
 Joyful words—we meet, 2431 
 
 Joys are not joys, 2091 
 
 Judge not! the workings, 2107 
 
 Judge not what is, 2735 
 
 Just, and strong, and, 544 
 
 Just as a mother, 2908 
 
 Just as thou art, 3104 
 
 Justice is their virtue, 2129 
 
 Justice, like lightning, ever, 2120 
 
 Justice must punish the, 2125 
 
 Justice, when equal scales, 2121 
 
 Keep your undrest, familiar, 1823 
 Kind sleep affords the, 3132 
 Kindness has resistless charms, 2137 
 Kindness in women, not, 2137 
 King of kings, and, 774 
 
 Kings are like stars, 2142 
 
 Kings, by grasping more, 2155 
 
 Kings by their example, 2144 
 
 Kneel not to me, 1309 
 
 Know, all the good, 1692 
 
 Know, all the good, 2739 
 
 Know, he that Foretells, 381 
 
 Know that Holiness keeps, 1811 
 
 Know then this truth, 3429 
 
 Know then whatever cheerful, 1874 
 
 Know well, my soul, 2232 
 
 Know whate’er beyond its, 2044 
 
 Know when this truth, 1708 
 
 Knowing this, that never, 3396 
 
 Knowledge and wisdom, far, 2177 
 
 Knowledge descries alone, wisdom, 2177 
 
 Knowledge holdeth by the, 2160 
 
 Knowledge is as food, 2169 
 
 Knowledge is not happiness, 2161 
 
 Knowledge, when wisdom is, 2177 
 
 Known mischiefs have their, 912 
 
 Knows he, that mankind, 1199 
 
 Knows not the weight, 3337 
 
 Know’st thou not all, 3093 
 
 Know’st thou the importance, 3190 
 
 Know’st with an equal, 2097 
 
 Laborious still, he taught, 2036 
 
 Labour is life ! ’tis, 2178 
 
 Labour, with the zeal, 2179 
 
 Laid on thine altar, 3508 
 
 Lands intersected by a, 3461 
 
 Lands mortgaged may return, 1485 
 
 Large was his bounty, 362 
 
 Last night, on coughing, 686 
 
 Last scene of all, 114 
 
 Late, late, so late, 783 
 
 Laugh not too much, 2063 
 
 Launch thy bark, mariner, 3026 
 
 Laws, as we read, 2192 
 
 Laws can discover sin, 2192 
 
 Laws hitherto are framed, 1005 
 
 Lead, kindly light, amid, 1655 
 
 Lean not on earth, 973 
 
 Leaning on Him, make, 3505 
 
 Learn more reverence, not, 2395 
 
 Learn then what morals, 639 
 
 Learn to dissemble wrongs, 3047 
 
 Learn to live well, 109 
 
 Learning by study must, 2197 
 
 Learning is more profound, 348 
 
 Leave behind earth’s empty, 3578 
 
 Leave the mere country, 610 
 
 Leaves.have their time, 705 
 
 Leisure is pain ; takes, 2203 
 
 Lemira’s sick ; make haste, 3556 
 
 Leonidas and Washington, Whose, 2659 
 
 Less pleasure take brave, 2448 
 
 Let all things in, 2608 
 
 Let argument with men, 203 
 
 Let come what will, 846 
 
 Let Fate do her, 2440 
 
 Let Fortune empty her, 1334 
 
 Let Freedom never perish, 1355 
 
 Let grief be her, 1631 
 
 Let high birth triumph, 319 
 
 Let him maintain his, 2155 
 
 Let him that will, 2994 
 
 Let humble Allen, with, 423 
 
 Let knowledge grow from, 2162 
 
 Let me ask Thee, 2812 
 
 Let me by grateful, 1284 
 
 Let me go where, 1755 
 
 Let my due feet, 202 
 
 Let no man know, 401 
 
 Let no man trust, 1660 
 
 Let no presuming impious, 1526 
 
 Let none direct thee, 2097 
 
 Let none presume to, 862 
 
 Let not old age, 124 
 
 Let not one look, 1329 
 
 Let not the poor, 1999 
 
 Let not your heart, 490 
 
 Let nothing make thee, 192 
 
 Let others boast them, 1381 
 
 Let our choir new, 2423 
 
 Let our finger ache, 3265 
 
 Let the world be, 3576 
 
 Let them call it, 2935 
 
 Let them exult : their, 3623 
 
 Let them fear bondage, 1983 
 
 Let them that would, 1342 
 
 Let those deplore their, 2992 
 
 Let these teach others, 637 
 
 Let to-morrow take, 1107 
 
 Let us be content, 2296 
 
 Let us not burthen, 2632 
 
 Let us read the, 3617 
 
 Let vanity adorn the, 1591 
 
 Let wealth come in, 1146 
 
 Let’s take the instant, 43 
 
 Letters join’d make words, 2297 
 
 Liberal, not lavish, is, 2549 
 
 Liberality In some circumstances, 2878 
 
 Liberty, like day, breaks, 2216 
 
 Lie in the lap, 3305 
 
 Life, believe, is not, 427 
 
 Life ! I know not, 2262 
 
 Life is a waste, 2278 
 
 Life is a weary, 2227 
 
 Life is before ye, 2253 
 
 Life is too short, 27 
 
 Life’s but a short, 589 
 
 Life’s but a walking, 2227 
 
 Life’s cares are comforts, 1027 
 
 Life’s mystery—deep, restless, 2668 
 
 Life’s sunniest hours are, 908 
 
 Light human nature is, 877 
 
 Light sufferings give us, 3249 
 
 Like a ball that, 93 
 
 Like a coy maiden, 985 
 
 Like a man to, 2025 
 
 Like a vessel at, 201 
 
 Like as the waves, 3333 
 
 Like doctors too, when, 203 
 
 Like leaves on trees, 2392 
 
 Like mighty rivers, with, 2629 
 
 Like one, who doom’d, 867 
 
 Like other tyrants. Death, 3612 
 
 Like silver lamps in, 498 
 
 Like the Chaldean, he, 3221 
 
 Like the detested tribe, 1916 
 
 Like to the falling, 2224 
 
 ‘ Linger,’ I cried, ‘ O, 3337 
 
 Listed into the cause, 2526 
 
 Little I ask ; my, 3458 
 
 Little knows any, but, 1541 
 
 Live for something; be, 1026 
 
 Live, that thy young, 3611 
 
 Live thou with God, 2564 
 
 Live to do good, 2269 
 
 Live while you live, 2281 
 
 Lo, a hundred proud, 1945 
 
 Lo, God to heaven, 211 
 
 Lo, here spreads out, 3593 
 
 Lo, now my glory, 677 
 
 Lo, the Day, the, 663 
 
 Lo, the poor Indian, 1785 
 
 Lo ! when the boatman, 1161 
 
 Lo ! when the buds, 289 
 
 Lo, where the Stage, 3313 
 
 Lo! where yon cottage, 1834 
 
 Lone traveller through the, 527 
 
 Long did I toil, 1682 
 
 Long galleries of ancestors, 169 
 
 Long, long be my, 2440 
 
 Long pored St Austin, 1501 
 
 Look at the selfish, 3068 
 
 Look back upon your, 3622 
 
 Look forward what’s to, 2914 
 
 Look here, and weep, 906 
 
 Look how the floor, 2571 
 
 Look humbly upward, see, 235 
 
 Look in my face, 2768 
 
 Look into those, they, 1324 
 
 Look Nature through . ’tis, 196S 
 
 Look not upon the,3508 
 
 Look on this beautiful, 2881 
 
 Look on this edifice, 508 
 
 Look round among the, 2576 
 
 Look thou with pity, 265 
 
 Look up ! the moon, 1676 
 
 Lord, a whole long, 2049 
 
 Lord, bear me company, 3302 
 
 Lord, come away, Why, 57 
 
 Lord, ere the last, 553 
 
 Lord, hear my discontent, 3325 
 
 Lord, I believe thy, 232 
 
 Lord, I have lain, 1427 
 
 Lord, I have question’d, 1909 
 
 Lord, I have shut, 526 
 
 Lord, I submit, complete, 3505 
 
INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 
 
 7i3 
 
 Lord Jesus, are we, 2603 
 
 Lord, many times I, 2407 
 
 Lord of earth, Thy, 1320 
 
 Lord of the harvest, 1710 
 
 Lord, save me from, 3033 
 
 Lord, the lights are, 805 
 
 Lord, thou art great, 1496 
 
 Lord, what am I, 2051 
 
 Lord, when we search, 1731 
 
 Lord, who art merciful, 2830 
 
 Lord, with what care, 306 
 
 Lost ! lost ! lost, A, 660 
 
 Loud complaint, however angrily, 182 
 
 Loud sung the wind, 828 
 
 Love built on beauty, 271 
 
 Love, hope, and joy, 2241 
 
 Love is a passion, 2353 
 
 Love is not to, 2368 
 
 Love is that passion, 2353 
 
 Love raised on beauty, 271 
 
 Love reckons hours for, 10 
 
 Love, strong as death, 2363 
 
 Love to do good, 2271 
 
 Love’s common unto all, 891 
 
 Lowliness is the base, 1914 
 
 Lull’d in the countless, 2444 
 
 Luxurious kings are to, 2148 
 
 Madam, you haply scorn, 319 
 Made for thyself, O, 2981 
 Made of the dust, 2393 
 Madness and anger differ, 182 
 Maidens, like moths, are, 2413 
 Make haste, O man, 42 
 Make my breast transparent, 384 
 Make the proper use, 241 
 Man at home within, 858 
 Man fearlessly his voice, 3396 
 Man, foolish man ! Scarce, 2382 
 Man hath a weary, 876 
 M an hath two attendants, 180 
 Man (ingenious to contrive, 1367 
 Man in society is, 3140 
 Man is a child, 3158 
 Man is but man, 2391 
 Man—is name of, 3357 
 Man is no star, 1025 
 M an, like the generous, 3140 
 Man loves knowledge, and, 2162 
 Man, man, be sterner, 3546 
 Man, o’er-labour’d with, 3128 
 Man seduced, And flatter’d, 1372 
 Man shall be bless’d, 1366 
 Man should dare all, 1548 
 Man wants but little, 3459 
 Man was mark’d a, 157 
 Man, who madly deems, 2399 
 Man with raging drink, 939 
 Man yields to custom, 652 
 Mankind one day serene, 2391 
 Man’s at the best, 2383 
 Man’s feeble race what, 2399 
 Man’s greatest strength is, 1683 
 Man’s home is everywhere, 1831 
 Man’s inhumanity to man, 646 
 Man’s life’s a book, 2217 
 Man’s life’s a tragedy, 2227 
 Man’s rich restorative, his, 3123 
 Man’s rich with little, 2551 
 Man’s soul immortal is, 1962 
 Mansions once knew their, 1145 
 Many are the sayings, 2640 
 Many dream not to, 1337 
 Many knotty points there, 637 
 Many there are and, 506 
 Many things impossible to, 2692 
 Marble and recording brass, 3387 
 Mark by what wretched, 1799 
 Mark how the palace, 1614 
 Maternal love ! thou word, 2506 
 Maturer manhood now arrives, 2389 
 Maybe he is, 1948 
 May I remember that, 3271 
 May the scene of, 2099 
 Me miserable ! which way, 830 
 Meek Lamb of God, 3178 
 Melancholy is not, as, 1144 
 Melancholy sits on me, 2435 
 Men are but children, 2391 
 Men are machines with, 2446 
 Men are made to, 1606 
 
 Men are more eloquent, 1014 
 
 Men are not still, 2391 
 
 Men are unhappy when, 2625 
 
 Men as resolute appear, 1249 
 
 Men at some time, 223 
 
 Men can counsel, and, 1631 
 
 Men make resolves, and, 2625 
 
 Men must endure Their, 701 
 
 Men said to-day, 3306 
 
 Men should press forward, 170 
 
 Men should strive to, 2276 
 
 Men’s judgments sway on, 2103 
 
 Merely to die no, 761 
 
 Methinks, if ye would, 381 
 
 Methir.ks we do as, 3169 
 
 ’Mid pleasures and palaces, 1837 
 
 ’Mid pleasure, plenty, and, 67 
 
 Milton’s strong pinion now, 2467 
 
 Minds by nature great, 1279 
 
 Mine honour is my, 1854 
 
 Misfortune does not always, 2492 
 
 Misfortune may benight the, 2032 
 
 Misguided genius oft has, 3360 
 
 Miss not the occasion, 2605 
 
 Moderate tasks and moderate, 1123 
 
 Money answers everything. But, 1668 
 
 ’Mongst all your virtues, 421 
 
 More ships in calms, 2887 
 
 More strange than, 1955 
 
 More sweet than odours, 1269 
 
 Morn is the time, 1090 
 
 Most dangerous Is that, 3307 
 
 Most Holy Jesus, Fount, 477 
 
 Most painful moods are, 2488 
 
 Most wretched men Are, 3247 
 
 Much beautiful, and excellent, 1386 
 
 Much learned dust involves, 2701 
 
 Much learning shows how, 2198 
 
 Much study is a, 3233 
 
 Multitude of laws are, 2192 
 
 Murder itself is past, 2521 
 
 Music exalts each joy, 2529 
 
 Music has charms to, 2532 
 
 Music resembles poetry in, 2534 
 
 Music the fiercest grief, 2532 
 
 Musicians think our souls, 3192 
 
 My bark is on, 1877 
 
 My body is from, 1717 
 
 My conscience is my, 593 
 
 My crown is in, 587 
 
 My days among the, 352 
 
 My days pass pleasantly, 2599 
 
 My dwelling had been, 177 
 
 My fairest child I, 434 
 
 My Father, the guide, 3614 
 
 My feeble bark has, 2273 
 
 My God, I heard, 2381 
 
 My God, I thank, 3312 
 
 My God ! is any, 2816 
 
 My God ! my God, 3091 
 
 My God, oh let, 2684 
 
 My God, once mix’d, 71 
 
 My God, to Thee, 1521 
 
 My hair was black, 409 
 
 My heart is awed, 24S4 
 
 My heart is like, 1742 
 
 My heart laments that, 1060 
 
 My heart leaps up, 2284 
 
 My home in heaven, 1131 
 
 My midnight lamp is, 3233 
 
 My pity hath been, 2723 
 
 My plenteous joys. Wanton, 1688 
 
 My rage is not, 182 
 
 My Saviour, what Thou, 3083 
 
 My Saviour, whom absent, 468 
 
 My secret wishes would, 2122 
 
 My slumbers—if I, 3136 
 
 My soul amid the, 1080 
 
 My soul is growing, 1302 
 
 My soul is like, 3197 
 
 My soul. Like yours, 2793 
 
 My soul, rest happy, 1483 
 
 My sweet wee nursling, 79 
 
 My times are in, 2910 
 
 My will would like, 2972 
 
 My words fly up, 2838 
 
 Mylo, forbear to call, 1618 
 
 Napoleon, Frederic, Charles, &c., 130 
 Nations grown corrupt love, 1357 
 Nature affords at least, 2561 
 
 Nature and Nature’s laws, 255c 
 
 Nature, employ’d in all, 2563 
 
 Nature—faint emblem of, 2545 
 
 Nature has placed thee, 565 
 
 Nature hath made nothing, 2561 
 
 Nature, in her productions, 2691 
 
 Nature is but a, 2552 
 
 Nature is impartial of, 2553 
 
 Nature is man’s best, 2563 
 
 Nature that framed us, 160 
 
 Nature to each allots, 3208 
 
 Nay, deem not thus, 1069 
 
 Nay, mother, where is, 2507 
 
 Nay, shrink not from, 1223 
 
 Nay, speak no ill, 3562 
 
 Nay, stoop not thus, 2479 
 
 Nay, then, farewell ! 1 , 74 
 
 Nay, ’tis not what, 865 
 
 Nay, under heaven, continues, 3421 
 
 Near yonder copse where, 525 
 
 Nearer acquainted, now I, 2612 
 
 Necessity, like electricity, Is, 2565 
 
 Neither a borrower nor, 1397 
 
 Neither my place, nor, 3168 
 
 Never despair of goodness, 1561 
 
 Never have the works, 2563 
 
 Never so gloomily man, 836 
 
 Never was a marvel, 1162 
 
 Never with blast of, 3084 
 
 New customs, Though they, 1229 
 
 Next stood Hypocrisy, with, 1917 
 
 Night is the time, 2574 
 
 No adulation, ’tis the, 1276 
 
 No age hath seen, 1109 
 
 No blood-stain’d victory, 3467 
 
 No ceremony that to, 2458 
 
 No ear can hear, 572 
 
 No flattery, boy, an, 1284 
 
 No ! Freedom has a, 1349 
 
 No gain but by, 3570 
 
 No God ; no Good, 227 
 
 No good of worth, 1121 
 
 No hammers fell, no, 3296 
 
 No happiness can be, 1693 
 
 No joy is true, 1766 
 
 No joy like by-past, 2448 
 
 No kings nor nations, 675 
 
 No lambkin by its, 2982 
 
 No man e’er felt, 2192 
 
 No man is bless’d, 1692 
 
 No man’s condition is, 1923 
 
 No more a charnel-house, 1592 
 
 No more at Delos, 1944 
 
 No more shall nation, 2676 
 
 No night shall be, 1776 
 
 No, no, it is, 753 
 
 No, not strange the, 1787 
 
 No one is so, 826 
 
 No pause, no rest, 3607 
 
 No prisoners there, enforced, 1601 
 
 No radiant pearl which, 3260 
 
 No sacred love, howe’er, 3595 
 
 No shadows yonder ! All, 1751 
 
 No soil like poverty, 2785 
 
 No, there is a, 363 
 
 No, ’tis not here, 3153 
 
 No, ’tis the tale, 572 
 
 No toil, no hardships, 164 
 
 No war or battles, 324 
 
 No wild enthusiast ever, 1051 
 
 No wrath of men, 2921 
 
 None can describe the, 610 
 
 None have accused the, 562 
 
 None pities him that’s, 401 
 
 None sends his arrow, 2054 
 
 None without Hope e’er, 2350 
 
 Nor are we ignorant, 3604 
 
 Nor custom, nor example, 2099 
 
 Nor did we fail, 604 
 
 Nor doth the general, 1641 
 
 Nor exile I, nor, 1578 
 
 Nor might, nor greatness, 3110 
 
 Nor need we power, 1839 
 
 Nor need we tell, 2044 
 
 Nor ought a genius, 3362 
 
 Nor riches boast superior, 2374 
 
 Nor stand so much, 170 
 
 Nor stony towers, nor, 3191 
 
 Nor think though men, 2387 
 
 Not all at once, 1991 
 
 Not all in vain, 1628 
 
7i4 
 
 INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 
 
 Not all that heralds, 3417 
 
 Not all the battle, 1797 
 
 Not all the glory, 562 
 
 Not at once in, 810 
 
 Not chaos-like, together, 260S 
 
 Not claim hereditary, not, 3399 
 
 Not content with every, 3276 
 
 Not even the soldiers, 3454 
 
 Not for the summer, 2416 
 
 Not Fortune’s self, When, 2031 
 
 Not from grey hairs, 245 
 
 Not from the dust, 3184 
 
 Not here ! Not here, 3039 
 
 Not in this weary, 2987 
 
 Not love thy life, 2276 
 
 Not myself, but the, 2443 
 
 Not flow, my child, 2272 
 
 Not on a prayerless, 1092 
 
 Not on the gory, 1801 
 
 Not one care wanting, 69 
 
 Not seldom, clad in, 460 
 
 Not sharp revenge, nor, 562 
 
 Not she with trait’rous, 3540 
 
 Not sleep itself is, 3136 
 
 Not Thou from us, 656 
 
 Not to be ensanguined, 617 
 
 Not to know at, 2174 
 
 Not to the swift, 3009 
 
 Not to understand a, 738 
 
 Not unto us, O, 2800 
 
 Not vainly did the, 2564 
 
 Not with the light, 540 
 
 Not words alone it, 1153 
 
 Nothing but leaves ! the, 2254 
 
 Nothing comes free-cost, 545 
 
 Nothing exceeds in ridicule, 1226 
 
 Nothing fails of it, 2014 
 
 Nothing fair on earth, 972 
 
 Nothing is dead but, 1975 
 
 Nothing is lost on, 2563 
 
 Nothing truly can be, 417 
 
 Nought is on earth, 2126 
 
 Nought is there under, 2723 
 
 Nought so ill As, 3050 
 
 Nought so vile that, 977 
 
 Nought treads so silent, 3334 
 
 Nought under heaven so, 280 
 
 November chill blows loud, 2681 
 
 Now God be praised, 1181 
 
 Now guilt once harbour’d, 562 
 
 Now hath his loaded, 3399 
 
 Now I lay me, 448 
 
 Now in frail bark, 3245 
 
 Now leave these joys, 109 
 
 Now let us repose, 3018 
 
 Now see that noble, 2033 
 
 Now shall the mangled, 3609 
 
 Now sober Industry, illustrious, 2001 
 
 Now that the sun, 2501 
 
 Now the third and, 1183 
 
 Now then the ills, 114 
 
 Now time has fled, 3331 
 
 O Antioch, thou teacher, 492 
 O beauteous Peace ! Sweet, 2664 
 O blest of heaven, 1954 
 O blest retirement! friend, 610 
 O born of heaven, 1453 
 O breath of public, 2764 
 O Caledonia ! stem and, 3042 
 O Ceremony ! show me, 1614 
 O Conscience ! conscience ! man’s, 566 
 O cursed love of, 151 
 O Day most calm, 3255 
 O dire Ambition, what, 143 
 O Eloquence ! thou violated, 1016 
 O everlasting Father, God, 2221 
 O Fairest of Creation, 3553 
 O Faith, thou work’st, n66 
 O faithful love by, 2782 
 O false ambition. Thou, 162 
 O fatal beauty! wh)', 279 
 O fatal search ! in, 2612 
 O fierce desire, the, 819 
 O Freedom ! thou art, 1358 
 O glorious Head, Thou, 478 
 O God ! have mercy, 3229 
 O God ! how beautiful, 1579 
 O God ! methinks it, 1694 
 O God ! my sins, 1304 
 O God ! Thy power, 1500 
 
 O happiness of blindness, 329 
 O Happiness ! our being, 1704 
 O happy man, saith, 1607 
 O head, so full, 457 
 O hearts that break, 2491 
 O Holy Saviour, Friend, 454 
 O Hope ! sweet flatterer, 1872 
 O how much more, 3394 
 O ! it is beautiful, 3574 
 O Jealousy ! thou merciless, 2059 
 O Jesus ! sweet the, 640 
 O King cf earth, 1297 
 O knew he but, 610 
 O Lamb of God, 5 
 O life misspent! O, 623 
 O life ! without thy, 1191 
 O little birds, fly, 2987 
 O ! lives there, "heaven, 228 
 O Lord, Thy love’s, 2358 
 O loss of sight, 330 
 O love-destroying cursed, 317 
 O loving One ! O, 2570 
 O Luxury ! Bane of, 2371 
 O Luxury ! thou cursed, 2371 
 O madness, to think, 3509 
 O man, forget not, 3069 
 O man, while in, 2515 
 O mercy, heavenly boon, 2455 
 O mighty Caesar ! dost, 735 
 O momentary grace of, 1246 
 O mortals, short of, 2492 
 O my coevals ! remnants, 113 
 O North, with all, 475 
 O plodding life ! crowded, 2575 
 O poverty of pride, 2861 
 O Reader, had you, 3324 
 O Reader, hast thou, 3368 
 O reputation ! dearer far, 2965 
 O risen Lord ! O, 992 
 O Royalty ! what joys, 2143 
 O sacred rest! O, 3123 
 O Saviour ! whose mercy, 889 
 O Scotia ! my dear, 3042 
 O shame to men, 3474 
 O sleep ! O gentle, 3125 
 O solitude ! where are, 3150 
 O streams of earthly, 131 
 O there is one, 78 
 O Thou eternal One ! 1508 
 O Thou from whose, 3112 
 O Thou that holdest, 2805 
 O Thou who by, 1659 
 O Thou who died’st, 3145 
 O Thou who dry’st, 96 
 O Thou whose power, 1517 
 O Thou whose sacred, 2974 
 O Time ! the fatal, 3329 
 O Time, who know’st, 3330 
 O treacherous conscience ! while, 559 
 O Truth Divine ! enlighten’d, 3386 
 O vain to speak, 1701 
 O War ! begot in, 3473 
 O War is cruel-hearted, 3464 
 O War !—what, what, 3473 
 O watch and pray, 3480 
 O when we swallow, 3509 
 O woman ! in our, 3546 
 O woman ! woman ! thou, 3457 
 O World ! Behold upon, 459 
 O World, O Life, 1046 
 O World, thy slippery, 1395 
 O worthy gift of, 1567 
 O ye, whose hearts, 2642 
 O years gone down, 594 
 Oaths terminate, as Paul, 2582 
 Oaths were not purposed, 2581 
 Observe the dying father, 3403 
 Observe the wretch who, 1195 
 Occasion, set on wing, 2605 
 Ocean, thou dreadful and, 2587 
 Odious ! in woollen ! ’twould, 932 
 O’er the distant mountains, 54 
 O’er the rocks we, 881 
 O’erwhelm’d in depths, 45S 
 Of age’s avarice I, 249 
 Of all bad things, 267 
 Of all good works, 1558 
 Of all the causes, 2862 
 Of all the creatures, 278S 
 Of all the griefs, 2063 
 Of all the horrid, 64 
 
 Of all the murderous, 3469 
 
 Of all the passions, 164 
 
 Of all the phantoms, 1198 
 
 Of all the thoughts, 3126 
 
 Of all virtues, justice, 2121 
 
 Of all wild beasts, 1725 
 
 Of boasting more than, 1204 
 
 Of earthly good the, 3497 
 
 Of every noble action, 35 
 
 Of human glory, and, 3144 
 
 Of its own beauty, 1952 
 
 Of lunacy Innumerous were, 2033 
 
 Of man immortal, Hear, 1964 
 
 Of night impatient we, 1980 
 
 Of no distemper, of, no 
 
 Of oil and cassia, 2593 
 
 Of old sat freedom, 1038 
 
 Of pleasures next the, 2736 
 
 Of praise a mere, 2790 
 
 Of the deep learning, 2635 
 
 Oft expectation fails and, 1135 
 
 Oft have I sat, 888 
 
 Oft in the stilly, 2401 
 
 Oft in the summer, 2846 
 
 Oft too, when that, 677 
 
 Oft weeping memory sits, 1760 
 
 Oft when blind mortals, 337 
 
 Oft when of God, 2680 
 
 Often to our comfort, 1900 
 
 Ofttimes nothing profits more, 3062 
 
 Oh ! ask not, hope, 3266 
 
 Oh, be of comfort, 3166 
 
 Oh ! be thou zealous, 3633 
 
 Oh ! beautiful as morning, 3557 
 
 Oh ! blest with temper, 3557 
 
 Oh ! bring us home, 1781 
 
 Oh could I flow, 3010 
 
 Oh, could I speak, 2799 
 
 Oh, could I worship, 2212 
 
 Oh, covet not the, 2142 
 
 Oh deem not thy, 2513 
 
 Oh ! enviable early days, 3623 
 
 Oh fear not thou, 1256 
 
 Oh first of human, 2664 
 
 Oh ! foolish heart, be, 2643 
 
 Oh for a lodge, 3120 
 
 Oh for the coming, 2159 
 
 Oh for the happy, 2085 
 
 Oh for the peace, 1029 
 
 Oh friendly to the, 610 
 
 Oh gather roses while, 789 
 
 Oh give me liberty, 2210 
 
 Oh happy house ! oh, r8 
 
 Oh happy once in, 2615 
 
 Oh how happy are, 606 
 
 Oh how impatience gains, 1136 
 
 Oh how much more, 272 
 
 Oh how portentous is, 289c 
 
 Oh how the passions, 2629 
 
 Oh how the thought, 2691 
 
 Oh how weak is, 2959 
 
 Oh how will crime, 1106 
 
 Oh how wondrous is, 1985 
 
 Oh I could go, 3063 
 
 Oh I have passed, 572 
 
 Oh I see thee, 1316 
 
 Oh if this were, 1442 
 
 Oh it is excellent, 244 
 
 Oh it is monstrous, 572 
 
 Oh it is not, 204 
 
 Oh it is very, 974 
 
 Oh, Jesus Christ, grow, 1649 
 
 Oh joy ! what in, 2437 
 
 Oh learn one truth, 3250 
 
 Oh ! learn that if, 1902 
 
 Oh ! let the soul, 2225 
 
 Oh live and all, 2259 
 
 Oh, love me, Lord, 2362 
 
 Oh ! many a shaft, 3107 
 
 Oh mocking life is, 2998 
 
 Oh ! my tried soul, 2647 
 
 Oh ! never from thy, 1320 
 
 Oh ! never hide thy, 3337 
 
 Oh ! not yet May’st, 1356 
 
 Oh, Peace ! thou source, 2664 
 
 Oh popular applause, what, 2764 
 
 Oh, proud Philosopher, so, 1522 
 
 Oh say not thou, 815 
 
 Oh shame to men, 884 
 
 Oh sometimes gleams upon, 2633 
 
 Oh surely melody from, 2533 
 
INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 
 
 7i5 
 
 Oh ! sweet bond of, 1392 
 Oh teach him, while, 1142 
 Oh that I had, 2032 
 Oh that men should, 939 
 Oh that men’s ears, 1283 
 Oh that mine eye, 820 
 Oh the bitter shame, 2051 
 Oh ! the dangerous siege, 3420 
 Oh ! the joy of, 3624 
 Oh ! the world is, 3589 
 Oh, there are moments, 2250 
 Oh, there is need, 3264 
 Oh think, mv son, 1023 
 Oh think 1 think upward, 2449 
 
 Oh! thou best comforter, 3132 
 
 Oh Thou who once, 2460 
 
 Oh to be nothing, 3045 
 
 Oh ! too convincing dangerously, 3291 
 
 Oh troubled soul, why, 2893 
 
 Oh ! turn, and be, 3289 
 
 Oh we do all, 2414 
 
 Oh weep for those, 2078 
 
 Oh ! weep not for, 3493 
 
 Oh welcome to the, 3019 
 
 Oh what a confluence, 3216 
 
 Oh what a mother, 1773 
 
 Oh what a patrimony, 1971 
 
 Oh what a tangled, 768 
 
 Oh what a thing, 1988 
 
 Oh, what form of, 1315 
 
 Oh, what is man, 2400 
 
 Oh, what makes woman, 354° 
 
 Oh, what may men, 1918 
 Oh, when a mother, 1773 
 Oh ! when, with fretted, 2834 
 Oh where the king’s, 518 
 Oh, who can hold, 792 
 Oh ! who can strive, 1078 
 Oh ! who shall lightly, 1208 
 Oh woman ! how thy, 3549 
 Oh ! would’st thou set, 3604 
 Oh, wretched woman ! oh, 3549 
 Oh ! yet we trust, 1540 
 Old husbandmen I at, 121 
 Omission to do what, 786 
 On a fair ship, 268 
 On adamant our wrongs, 2022 
 On Alpine heights the, 1487 
 On bended knees, replete, 2962 
 On death and judgment, 739 
 On every human soul, 811 
 On every side, dear, 643 
 On every thorn delightful, 942 
 On His pale brow, 1466 
 On Horeb’s rock the, 1010 
 On life’s vast ocean, 2622 
 On ! on ! our moments, 3336 
 On parent knees, a, 2276 
 On the smooth expanse, 1109 
 On the summit see, 145 
 On the terse heroic, 2841 
 On their life no, 2245 
 On their own merits, 2498 
 On Truth’s substantial rock, 1857 
 On what foundation stands, 149 
 On what strange ground, 1237 
 Once more in the, 1152 
 Once (says the author, 2191 
 Once Sultan Nushirvan the, 1116 
 Once the demon enters, 2043 
 Once to every man, 634 
 One adequate support For, 581 
 One cross the less, 644 
 One day a blind, 1794 
 One day a farmer, 2904 
 One day in dreary, 2349 
 One good deed, dying, 2797 
 One grain of incense, 855 
 One part, one little, 2902 
 One pleasant spring morning, 3509 
 One Priest alone can, 2872 
 One said, ‘ Better a, 2737 
 One science only will, 145b 
 One shall rise of, 143 
 One simile that solitary, 3234 
 One sole baptismal sign, 1266 
 One sun by day, 224 
 One sweetly solemn thought, 1774 
 One to destroy is, 3470 
 One year among the, 1748 
 Only a few more, 1028 
 
 f 
 
 Only add deeds to, 421 
 Opening the map of, 2247 
 Opinion is that high, 2604 
 Opinion’s but a fool, 2604 _ 
 
 Opportunity to statesmen is, 2605 
 
 Oppress’d with grief, oppress d, 1O2O 
 
 Or shall I say, 1008 
 
 Or whether more abstractly, 3°45 
 
 Or who would care,_ 2797 
 
 Order is Heaven’s first, 2610 
 
 Other sins only speak, 2521 
 
 Other worlds. Those planets, 3594 
 
 Others apart sat on, 1364 
 
 Others may use the, 2587 
 
 Others to conceit alone, 3234 
 
 Our aim is happiness, 1701 
 
 Our blest Redeemer, ere, 1817 
 
 Our country is a, 3223 
 
 Our dangers and delights, 655 
 
 Our doubts are traitors, 911 
 
 Our dress, still varying, 930 
 
 Our dying friends come, 296 
 
 Our greatest actions or, 785^ 
 
 Our green youth copies, 118 
 Our glories float between, 1480 
 Our indiscretion sometimes serves, 2906 
 Our life is two-fold, 922 
 Our life so fast, 2264 
 Our lives are rivers, 2290 
 Our lives reform’d and, 3 2 34 
 Our many deeds the, 2015 
 Our Nation here is, 106 
 Our purses shall be, 197 
 Our reason prompts us, 1448 
 Our remedies oft in, 1037 
 Our sins like to, 3098 
 Our souls but like, 3199 
 Our thoughts are boundless, 3201 
 Our time is fixed, 3253 
 Our time is set, 3253 
 Our times are in, 3355 
 Our times consume like, 3333 
 Our virtues would be, 3447 
 
 Our voluntary service. He, 1366 
 
 Our wise forefathers, born, 3535 
 Our witches are no, 353b 
 Our yesterday’s to-morrow, 3359 
 Our youth is like, 2264 
 Out of the shadow, 667 
 Over all men hangs, 1706 
 
 Pain and sin are, 1098 
 Pain’s furnace heat within, 89 
 Passions are liken’d best, 2629 
 Past sorrows let us, 3186 
 Patience in cowards is, 2649 
 Patience is more of, 2651 
 Patience, my Lord ! why, 2650 
 Patience unmoved, no marvel, 2040 
 Patriots have toil’d and, 2419 
 Patriots in peace assert, 2659 
 Peace, Dear nurse of, 2664 
 Peace follows virtue as, 273* 
 
 Peace, greatness best becomes, 26yO 
 Peace has unveil’d her^ 3258 
 Peace, peace ! it is, 868 
 Peace, shall the world, 2676 
 Peace to the just, 2111 
 Peace to the true, 3396 
 Peace upon peace, like, 2669 
 Perceiv’st thou not the, 2279 
 Perfect through sufferings. Is, 2690 
 Perfumes, the more they’re, 98 
 Perhaps thou dost but, 3298 
 i Perseverance, dear my lord, 1854 
 1 Perseverance is a virtue, 2698 
 Perverse mankind ; whose ills, i^7 2 
 Philosophy and Reason ! Oh, 2706 
 Philosophy consists not in, 2707 
 Philosophy did much refining, 2714 
 Philosophy, religion, solitude, and, ^294 
 Physic can but mend, 2429 
 i Physicians mend or end, 2714 
 Physician of my sin-sick, 809 
 Pity is sworn servant, 2723 
 Pity is the virtue, 2192 
 Pity only on fresh, 2723 
 Place me on some, 3025 
 Placed for his trial, 1374 
 Plate sin with gold, 153b 
 Plead, when the tempters, 3303 
 
 Pleasant were many scenes, 3151 
 Please thy pride and, 170 
 Pleasure, admitted in undue, 1074 
 Pleasure and Revenge have, 2733 
 Pleasure is good and, 2732 
 Pleasure that comes outlook d, 2741 
 Pleasures are few, and, 2729 
 Pleasures are like poppies, 2730 
 Plumed victory Is truly, 3422 
 Poetry is itself a, 2755 
 Poets alone found the, 303S 
 Poets are all who, 2755 
 Poets are limners of, 2751 
 Poets themselves must fall, 751 
 Policy counselleth a gift, 147° 
 
 Poor abject creatures ! how, 689 
 Poor humankind, all dazed, 339 
 Poor soul, the centre, 196 
 Poor worldling, stay thy, 349 2 
 Power above power! O, 1019 
 Power is a curse, 3399 
 Power to punish, tis, 182 
 Praise a fool and, 535 
 Praise God, from whom, 917 
 Praise God ! Praise God, 279S 
 Praise is but Virtue’s, 2794 
 Praise is the reflection, 2797 
 Praise, my soul, the, 1512 
 Praise of great act, 2797 
 Praise of the wise, 2795 
 Pray ere thou writ’st, 2742 
 Prayer is the breath, 2823 
 Preposterous ass ! that never, 2533 
 Present example gets within, 1x15 
 Present fears are less, 1958 
 Press forward and fear, 1652 
 Press to the mark, 2687 
 Pride is of mighty, 2871 
 Pride (of all others, 2863 
 Pride often guides the, 3234 
 Pride, with haughty port, 1905 
 Prime cheerer, Light, O of, 2292 
 Primeval Hope, the Aonian, 1076 
 Princes have but their, 2142 
 Princes that would their, 2144 
 Productive was the world, 351 
 Prompted by instincts never, 1486 
 Providence not niggardly, but, 2895 
 Prudence protects and guides, 2914 
 Prudence ! thou vainly in, 2914 
 Prune the luxuriant, the, 639 
 Purblind man sees but, 2963 
 Put off your giant, 170 
 Pygmies are pygmies still, 343° 
 
 Rabia, sick upon her, 424 
 Rapture is not the, 1692 
 Rash, fruitless war, from, 3470 
 Rashly, nor oft-times truly, 2097 
 Read Nature ; Nature is, 2561 
 Real glory springs from, 1481 
 Reason, remembrance, wit, 2051 
 Reason the root; fair, 2929 
 Reason’s progressive ; Instinct is 2930 ^ 
 Rebellion ! foul dishonouring word, 293^ 
 Redeem we time—its, 30 
 Reflect that life and, 2288 
 
 Rejoice for a brother, 800 
 
 Rejoice, though storms assail, 2945 
 
 Religion, first, be made, 3364 
 
 Religion ! Providence ! an after, 2940 
 
 Remorse is as the, 2955 
 
 Remove yon skull from, 3106 
 
 Repine not, nor reply, 1515 
 
 Reprove not in their, 2964 
 
 Reserve will wound it, 137b 
 
 Rest, weary dust, lie, 1590 
 
 Rest, weary soul! the, 2979 
 
 Restraining others, yet himself, 130- 
 
 Retiring from the popular, 1644 
 
 Return, my soul, unto, 2985 
 
 Returning, he proclaims by, 3305 
 
 Revenge at first, though, 3001 
 
 Revenge impatient Hubert proudly, 3003 
 
 Rich was his soul, 9 2 7 
 
 Riches endless is as, 2775 
 
 Riches, like insects, when, 251 
 
 Ridicule is a weak, 3006 
 
 Right from the hand, 2718 
 
 Rightly to be great, 1853 
 
 Rise from your dreams, 3034 
 
ji6 
 
 INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 
 
 Rise, O my soul, 3327 
 Rise, said the Master, 2052 
 Rising griefs distress my, 3165 
 Rock of Ages, cleft, 3011 
 Roll on, thou deep, 2587 
 Roll round, strange years, 3339 
 Rome, whose majesty Is, 1809 
 Room for one treasure, 1588 
 Room for the leper, 2205 
 Rumour is a pipe, 3013 
 Run if you like, 45 
 
 Sabbaths are threefold as, 3022 
 Sacred Religion, mother of, 2952 
 ■ Sad is our youth, 2277 
 Sad, without hope, I, 950 
 Said I nqt so, 944 
 Saint Augustine ! well hast, 1120 
 Safe home, safe home, 702 
 Safety and equal government, 1570 
 Satan is busy in, 3034 
 Sated with nature’s boons, 1265 
 Satire should, like a, 3038 
 Save me alike front, 856 
 Saviour, is there anything, 2589 
 Say, my soul, what, 991 
 Say;—pardon, king; let, 2458 
 Say, what is gospel, 2853 
 Say, what is honour, 1853 
 Say, where full instinct, 2034 
 Say, why was man, 2394 
 Say’st thou there was, 2616 
 Scatter’d o’er various fields, 1216 
 Sceptic, whoe'er thou art, 564 
 Scorn no man’s love, 1036 
 Scorn not the slightest, 1006 
 Sea would be pools, 1027 
 Search for some thoughts, 3327 
 Search not to find, 2169 
 Search starry mysteries overhead, 1436 
 Search then the ruling, 2622 
 Searching the skiey depths, 3383 
 Searching those edges of, 1465 
 Secure from actual warfare, 3462 
 Secure of outward force, 3301 
 Securely cabin’d in the, 3379 
 See Aaron, God’s anointed, 1 
 See before us in, 712 
 See its power expand, 647 
 See Judah’s promised king, 657 
 See the difference ’twixt, 2878 
 See the issue of, 1935 
 See the river flowing, 1476 
 See yonder cloud along, 1088 
 -See yonder maker of, 3077 
 Seek not to govern, 2155 
 Seeming devotion doth but, 1921 
 Seldom at church, ’twas, 513 
 Seldom is faction’s ire, 1150 
 Self-flatter’d, inexperienced, high, 477 
 Self is the medium, 3066 
 Self-love and reason, 3062 
 -Self-love, my liege, 3062 
 Self-love no grace, 3x82 
 Self-love thus punished, 422 
 Sense is our helmet, 3534 . 
 
 Senseless, and deform’d, Convulsive, 182 
 Sepulchral columns wrestle, but, 1196 
 Serene Philosophy, Effusive source, 2711 
 Servants of God, well, 742 
 Seven hours to law, 3233 
 Shall I be left, 1448 
 Shall I be slave, 2265 
 Shall I o’er the, 192 
 Shall the seasons bring, 301 
 Shall we grow weary, 34 8 °. . 
 
 Shallow artifice begets suspicion, 308 
 
 Shame ever sticks close, 2003 
 
 She brought her box, 2361 
 
 She had seen all, 263 
 
 She hath tied Sharp-tooth d, 2026 
 
 She sat and wept, 2683 
 
 She sat within Life’s, 749 
 
 She speaks, behaves, and, 2405 
 
 She taught us how, 1566 
 
 She that would raise, 2269 
 
 She was knowing in, 1994 
 
 She’s a majestic ruler, 2914 
 
 Sheik Schubli, taken sick, 1421 
 
 Shine, ye stars of, 3211 
 
 Short is the course, 2734 
 
 Shortly his future shall, 1994 
 
 Shrink not from sufferings, 873 
 
 Shun delays, they breed, 782 
 
 Shun pride, O Rae, 2866 
 
 Shun such as lounge, 3349 
 
 Shun their fault wbo, 639 
 
 Silence in times of, 3086 
 
 Silence is the perfectest, 3085 
 
 Silence ! though the flames, 2418 
 
 Silent as a dream, 3296 
 
 Silent companions of the, 2927 
 
 Similes are like songs, 3090 
 
 Sin is the living, 3094 
 
 Since brass, nor stone, 277 
 
 Since brevity is the, 364 
 
 Since, by your greatness, 1608 
 
 Since every man who, 677 
 
 Since first Thy word, 2088 
 
 Since, howe’er protracted, death, 727 
 
 Since o’er Thy footstool, 1762 
 
 Since thou hast, far, 1663 
 
 Since ’tis Thy sentence, 3238 
 
 Since trifles make the, 3404 
 
 Sink not beneath imaginary, 3167 
 
 Sinner, hear thy Saviour, 3103 
 
 Sir, you are very, 1892 
 
 Six hours in sleep, 3233 
 
 Six years had pass’d, 103 
 
 Skill’d by a touch, 3040 
 
 Slander meets no regard, 3108 
 
 Slander’d in vain, enjoy, 1052 
 
 Slaves cannot breathe in, 2209 
 
 ‘ Slaves cannot breathe in England, 311b 
 
 Sleep is no servant, 3124 
 
 Sleep is pain’s easiest, 3132 
 
 Sleep seems their only, 2773 
 
 Sleep that knits up, 3123 
 
 Slow wand’ring 011 the, 1716 
 
 Slowly fashion’d, link by, 1674 
 
 Small is the soul's, 2347 
 
 Small service is true, 1391 
 
 Smooth runs the water, 3365 
 
 So artists melt the, 1036 
 
 So build we up, 411 
 
 So, Christian ! though gloomy, 578 
 
 So dear to heaven, 452 
 
 So dying men receive, 533 
 
 So farewell hope, and, 828 
 
 So fatal ’twas to, 3305 
 
 So from the heights, 1371 
 
 So live that when, 730 
 
 So man, who here, 2387 
 
 So many great Illustrious, 3537 
 
 So many worlds, so, 729 
 
 So may’st thou live, 108 
 
 So much the thirst, 1854 
 
 So much to win, 452 
 
 So peaceful shalt thou, 108 
 
 So sleeps the sea-boy, 3135 
 
 So slow The growth, 2691 
 
 So smooth he daub'd, 1922 
 
 So stands the statue, 3226 
 
 So strong the zeal, 160 
 
 So take joy home, 2084 
 
 So tedious in this, 1134 
 
 So the false spider, 1x95 
 
 So to live that, 2276 
 
 So, when affections yield, 2629 
 
 Social life is fill’d, 1049 
 
 Society itself, which would, 3142 
 
 Soft buzzing slander; silky, 3115 
 
 Soft Pity never leaves, 2723 
 
 Softly, softly falleth the, 2450 
 
 Solitude is sometimes best, 3146 
 
 Some angel guide my, 1528 
 
 Some beauties yet no, 639 
 
 Some day the li'*e, 603 
 
 Some deluded minds, Harrow d, 831 
 
 Some dreams are useless, 920 
 
 Some few the gift, 155 2 
 
 Some figures monstrous and, 2886 
 
 Some for renown on, 2200 
 
 Some fretful tempers wince, 1375 
 
 Some go to church, 515 
 
 Some grave their wrongs, ^13 
 
 Some grief shows much, 1635 
 
 Some high or humble, 2434 
 
 Some lambs are miss’d, 3280 
 
 Some love the glow, 541 
 
 Some men are born, i486 
 
 Some murmur when the, 590 
 
 Some natural tears they, 1130 
 Some of your hurts, 1106 
 Some other kind of, 2193 
 Some place the bliss, 341 
 Some play for gain, 1450 
 Some positive, persisting fools, 1076 
 Some scruple rose, but, 558 
 Some secret truths, from, 2176 
 Some seek diversion in, 3461 
 Some seem to live, 1730 
 Some shout him, and, 2764 
 Some spot there is, 1830 
 Some souls we see, 72 
 Some there are by, 1551 
 Some through ambition, or, 147 
 Some to conceit alone, 3234 
 Some valuing those of, 3062 
 Some were among the, 3405 
 Some whose meaning hath. 828 
 Some wicked wits have, 3504 
 Some write a narrative, 1807 
 Something light as air, 2408 
 Something, my God, for, 654 
 Something of youth I, 3631 
 Sometime, when all life’s, 2896 
 Sometimes I catch sweet, 534 
 Sometimes we feel thq, 971 
 Sorrow is knowledge : they, 2165 
 Sorrow, suspense, desire, and, 3342 
 Sorrow treads heavily, and, 3163 
 Soul, dwelling oft in, 3194 
 Souls of men ! why, 2053 
 Sound the loud timbrel, 2937 
 Sounds which address the, 1x49 
 Sour discontent, that quarrels, 878 
 Source of my life’s, 95 
 Sow in the morn, 3571 
 Sow on in faith, 2011 
 Sow with a generous, 2186 
 Spake full well, in, 1292 
 Speak gently ! it is, 1464 
 Speak gently, kindly, to, 2763 
 Speak low to me, 531 
 Speak not of vengeance, 3002 
 Speak, speak, let terror, 655 
 Speech is the golden, 3275 
 Speed on the ship, 3080 _ 
 
 Spirit, whose lile-sustaining, 3597 
 
 Spirits are not finely, 2557 
 
 Spite of all the, 2867 
 
 Sporting; through the forest, 2295 
 
 Spring-tide and leaf-fail, 2066 
 
 Stand but your ground, 611 
 
 Stand the omnipotent decree, 1031 
 
 Stand up for the, 13 
 
 Stand up ! Stand up, 270 
 
 Stars are of mighty, 494 
 
 Statesman, yet friend to, 3225 
 
 ‘ Stay till I bring the cup, 3510 
 
 Stern sons of war, 1196 
 
 Still as a statue, 3382 
 
 Still hope ! still act, 1997 
 
 Still in the paths, 3441 
 
 Still o’er these scenes, 1637 
 
 Still on it creeps, 3335 
 
 Still raise for good, 2835 
 
 Still seems it strange, 1970 
 
 Still shines the light, 1110 
 
 Still sighs the world, 2580 
 
 Stone walls do not, 1361 
 
 Straight from the hand, i 5 2 9 
 
 Strange is the power, 923 
 
 Strict laws are like, 2192 
 
 Strong as the death, 1967 
 
 Strong Son of God, 1175 
 
 Stronger than thunder’s winged, 1530 
 
 Study is like the, 3233 
 
 Study with care politeness, 2405 
 
 Suburban villas, highway' side, 523 
 
 Success is sweet, but, 3243 
 
 Success, the mark no, 3242 
 
 Such as I have, 3205 
 
 Such dupes are men, 650 
 
 Such is the use, 1424 
 
 Such moderation with thy, 362 
 
 Such vast room in, 3218 
 
 Such was the rigid, 2709 
 
 Such whose sole bliss, 1264 
 
 Suffering curbs our wayward, 3248 
 
 Suffering is the work, 3246 
 
 Summer ebbs ; each day, 2231 
 
INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 
 
 717 
 
 Superfluous lags the veteran, 114 
 
 Sure He that made, 2933 
 
 Sure tne last end, 2671 
 
 Sure there is none, 1079 
 
 Sure ’tis a serious, 761 
 
 Surely yon heaven, where, 1775 
 
 Survey the magnet’s sympathetic, 2702 
 
 Suspicion always haunts the, 562 
 
 Sweet are the joys, 1829 
 
 Sweet are the thoughts, 2468 , 
 
 Sweet day ! so cool, 3430 
 Sweet Hope, kind cheat, 1859 
 Sweet is the pleasure, 2986 
 Sweet is the solace, 466 
 Sweet recreation barr’d, what, 2433 
 Sweet sensibility ! thou keen, 3071 
 Sweet speaking oft a, 1463 
 Sweet stream, that winds, 2372 
 Swifter than feather’d arrow, 1073 
 Swiftly and straight each, 1813 
 
 Take heed how you, 3253 
 
 Take heed lest passion, 2625 
 
 Take heed of Pride, 2869 
 
 Take of some bitter, 2547 
 
 Take the instant way, 43 
 
 Take them, O Death, 720 
 
 Talents angel-bright, If, 2461 
 
 Talk not to me, 1200 
 
 Talk who will of, 3578 
 
 Talkers are no good, 3273 
 
 Taught, or untaught, the, 941 
 
 Tauler, the preacher, walk’d, 3171 
 
 Teach me, my God, 1484 
 
 Teach me to feel, 2449 
 
 Tears, for a-stroke, 3283 
 
 Tell me no more, 1697 
 
 Tell me not, in, 24 
 
 Tell me, some god, 726 
 
 Tell me, why the, 2034 
 
 Tell me, ye winged, 1700 
 
 Temporal blessings Heaven doth, 2832 
 
 Ten poor men sleep, 591 
 
 Ten thousand casks for, 935 
 
 Ten thousand times ten, 3 , 
 
 Thank God, bless God, 3285 
 
 Thank God for little, 3489 
 
 Thank God that towards, 3608 
 
 Thank God that yet, 2836 
 
 That all men would, 624 
 
 That clearer marks of, 2555 
 
 That each from other, 25x1 
 
 That fortune still must, 1331 
 
 That friendship’s raised on, 1408 
 
 That glorious burst of, 3560 
 
 That grounded maxim, So, 2655 
 
 That happiness does still, 1686 
 
 That king stands surest, 2153 
 
 That life is long, 2255 
 
 That light you see, 1551 
 
 That monster, Custom, who, 14 
 
 That mystic word of, 4 
 
 That people once, So, 2081 
 
 That praise contents me, 2793 
 
 That subtle serpent, servile, 1287 
 
 That tender farewell on, 679 
 
 That things to mortals, 2537 
 
 That thou may’st injure, 3513 
 
 That undiscover’d country from, 713 
 
 That universal idol, Gold,1532 
 
 That we would do, 2054 
 
 That which made him, 2878 
 
 Th’ encroaching ill you, 3304 
 
 Th’ Eternal, when He, 1365 
 
 Th invention all admired, 2051 
 
 The absent danger greater, 655 
 
 The abuse of greatness, 154 
 
 The advent morn shines, 61 
 
 The ages show their, 479 
 
 The angel-choir His, 3277 
 
 The angry word suppress’d, 1838 
 
 The Apostle sleeps,—a, 745 
 
 The aspirer once attain’d, 3399 
 
 The Assyrian came down, 3413 
 
 The Autumn is old, 248 
 
 The autumnal rains had, 3466 
 
 The bad man’s death, 7*4 , 
 
 The band of thy, 824 
 The banyan of the. 517 
 The base wretch who, 258 
 The bell strikes one, 3343 
 
 The best conserve of, 3037 
 
 The best, the dearest, 677 
 
 The bigot theologian in, 318 
 
 The billows swell the, 3303 
 
 The bird let loose, 214 
 
 The bird that soars, 1912 
 
 The bird that to, 2010 
 
 The black camel death, 677 
 
 The blessings which the, 415 
 
 The bliss of man, 2375 
 
 The boast of heraldry, 677 
 
 The body sins not, 3100 
 
 The bold are but the instruments, 3522 
 
 The Book is open’d, 2106 
 
 The brain may devise, 2192 
 
 The branch is stooping, 770 
 
 The brave are ever, 2723 
 
 The brave do never, 384 
 
 The brave man is, 612 
 
 The brave man seeks, 619 
 
 The breaking waves dash’d, 2731 
 
 The bright and beautiful, 1756 
 
 The brooks rush downward, 901 
 
 The business of the, 380 
 
 The butterfly, which sports, 3501 
 
 The card-built house, 2540 
 
 The cease of majesty, 2147 
 
 The charm of eloquence, 1015 
 
 The cheerful supper done, 1220 
 
 The child leans on, 3378 
 
 The child-like faith that, 1181 
 
 The Christian’s faith had, 495 
 
 The Christmas angels, in, 504 
 
 The Church has waited, 59 
 
 The circle form’d, we, 3274 
 
 The cit—a common, 523 
 
 The cloud-capp’d towers, 2285 
 
 The clouds may drop, 3520 
 
 The clouds, which rise, 1104 
 
 The coming man will, 3293 
 
 The common ingredients of, 1717 
 
 The conquer’d also, and, 3118 
 
 The crisis of man’s, 3358 
 
 The critic eye, that, 637 
 
 The cruel and bitter, 3559 
 
 The curse on the, 2187 
 
 The day in hand, 3334 
 
 The day is cold, 662 
 
 The Day is near, 2107 
 
 The day so crowded, 842 
 
 The days of life, 2230 
 
 The dead are like, 803 
 
 The death-bed of, 676 
 
 The death of those, 723 
 
 The deeds of reasonable, 776 
 
 The deeds which selfish, 1190 
 
 The deep damnation of, 1534 
 
 The deepest ice that, 200 
 
 The devil can cite, 1926 
 
 The dew is on, 672 
 
 The discipline of slavery, 3428 
 
 The distaff, needle, all, 1230 
 
 The distant prospect always, 1133 
 
 The drying up a, 420 
 
 The earth is full, 2258 
 
 The earth sad—sweet, 975 
 
 The elephant is never, 182 
 
 The end crowns all, 3348 
 
 The English nation, like, 1044 
 
 The epoch ends, the, 100 
 
 The evil that men, 1099 
 
 The eye can make, 2050 
 
 The faithful Alpine shepherd, 298 
 
 The fame that a, 1203 
 
 The family is like, 1214 
 
 The faults kings do, 2146 
 
 The fawning citizens, whose, 523 
 
 The few that pray, 2822 
 
 The fiend with necessity, 2399 
 
 The fiery soul abhorr’d, 157 
 
 The fine and noble, 1036 
 
 The firmest purpose of, 1281 
 
 The first physicians by, 27x4 
 
 The first time that, 83 
 
 The flighty purpose never, 2920 
 
 The flock stood waiting, 449 
 
 The flowers live by, 3288 
 
 The flying rumours gather’d, 3014 
 
 The foe behind the, 994 
 
 The fool hath planted, 3234 
 
 The fourteen centuries fall, 1101 
 
 The free fair homes, 1039 
 The friendship of the, 1406 
 The fruitless showers of, 2685 
 The gaudy glass of, 2793 
 The gen’rous critic fann’d, 637 
 The genuine sense, intelligibly, 3362. 
 The glories of our, 752 
 The glorious hosts of, 3598 
 The God of harvest, 1712 
 The God of nature, 629 
 The gods Grow angry, 2128 
 The gods in bounty, 73 
 The golden opportunity Is, 2605 
 The good are better, 3159 
 The good alone are, 1624 
 The good he scorn’d, 179 
 The good man suffers, 73 
 The good man’s hope, 1887 
 The good need fear, 2192 
 The grand redemption of, 2939 
 The grave, dread thing, 1595 
 The great Controller of, 1899 
 The greatest attribute of, 2456 
 The greatest glory of, 2213 
 The greatest schemes that, 3345 
 The Greeks said grandly, 1689 
 The guilty mind debases, 1622 
 The Halcyon Sleep will, 3130 
 The hand that rounded, 372 
 The hand—what wondrous, 1677 
 The happy Christmas comes, 302 
 The happy have whole, 1692 
 The harp at Nature’s, 2560 
 The harvest dawn is, 1709 
 The heart has tendrils, 1002 
 The heart is hard, 183 
 The heart—the heart, 1270 
 The heart, unalter’d in, 3429 
 The heavens are a, 1526 
 The heavens themselves the, 2610 
 The highest glory is, 3024 
 The hint malevolent, the, 3109 
 The honour is overpaid, 1854 
 The honours of a, 319 
 The hour of anguish, 3247 
 The hours are viewless, 3337 
 The human race are, 614 
 The husbandmen, who sluggishly, 2567 
 The ills that darken, 1743 
 The immortal gods accept, 855 
 The individual culprit may, 2544 
 The inquiring spirit will, 647 
 The instruments of darkness, 3307 
 The joys of sense, 3195 
 The just shall dwell, 2113 
 The keen spirit seizes, 2884 
 The keenest pangs the, 1933 
 The king-becoming graces, 2153 
 The king that yields, 2154 
 The king was on, 843 
 The king who delegates, 2155 
 The labouring bee, when, 3038 
 The lamp of revelation, 3x3 
 The land of song, 2747 
 The land wants such, 2917 
 The lapse of time, 3334 
 The liberal are secure, 417 
 The light-house founded, 512 
 The lion craved the, 879 
 The lion’s feet the, 2421 
 The longings of the, 1625 
 The lopped tree in, 3331 
 The Lord our God, 1509 
 The Lord will grace, 1580 
 The love of gold, 254 
 The love of kings, 2148 
 The love of liberty, 2201 
 The love of praise, 2792 
 The love of Thee, 2344 
 The lowly spirit God, 2370 
 The lust of gold, 254 
 The man of pure, 1x95 
 The man, perhaps, Thou, 68 
 The man resolved, and, 2124 
 The man that hails, 1843 
 The man that hath, 2530 
 The man that is, 2883 
 The man that’s resolute, 2116 
 The man who builds, 1145 
 The man who pauses, 1843 
 l The man who rises, 3406 
 
7 i 3 
 
 ' INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 
 
 The man whom Heaven, 2152 
 The man whose hardy, 303S 
 The Mariner that on, 3229 
 The Master came one, 2065' 
 
 The Master has come, 465 
 
 The meaner creatures never, 2034 
 
 The meaner tribe the, 2034 
 
 The means that Heaven, 2605 
 
 The merry birds are, 3017 
 
 The mightier man, the, 1603 
 
 The million flit as, 2446 
 
 The mind doth shape, 2473 
 
 The mind is firm, 2269 
 
 The mind of man, 2174 
 
 The mind that broods, 569 
 
 The mind that would, 1692 
 
 The mind within me, 2475 
 
 The miserable have no, 1S88 
 
 d he mistakes of my, 1904 
 
 1 he moon was shining, 1467 
 
 The more the bold, 1575 
 
 The more the cross, 94 
 
 The more we have, 255 
 
 The morning purples all, 472 
 
 The mother in her, 2560 
 
 The mother’s love—there’s, 2506 
 
 I he multitude unawed is, 2497 
 
 The murderer has no, 2522 
 
 The night is come, 3129 
 
 The noble find their, 1900 
 
 The noblest mind the, 589 
 
 The oak-tree’s boughs, 1647 
 
 Ihe old Scythians Painted, 1333 
 
 The only amaranthine flower, 3387 
 
 The oracles are dumb, 323 
 
 The outworn rite, the, 2941 
 
 1 he owlet Atheism, sailing, 230 
 
 The pains of death, 2613 
 
 The past but lives, 354 
 
 The past is a, 2282 
 
 The past lives o’er, 2632 
 
 The path of sorrow, 869 
 
 The path to peace, 3439 
 
 The peaches redden on, 1549 
 
 The people like a, 2686 
 
 The perfect world by, 509 
 
 1 he pilgrim and stranger, 290 
 
 The pious man in, 1185 
 
 The pleasing poison The, 2045 
 
 T he poet Andreas one, 2850 
 
 The poet’s eye, in, 2744 
 
 The poet’s pen is, 2682 
 
 The poor sleep little, 2777 
 
 The poor wren The, 2618 
 
 The poorest poor Long, 2138 
 
 The power to give, 1616 
 
 The presence of a, 2149 
 
 The present point of, 3345 
 
 The present! what is, 2856 
 
 The primal duties shine, 419 
 
 The prince, who kept, 751 
 
 The prophet once, sitting, 3519 
 
 The proud he tamed, 2635 
 
 The pulpit therefore (and, 2915 
 
 The pure, the bright, 2012 
 
 The purest treasure, mortal, 296s 
 
 The purpose of an, 2031 
 
 The quality of mercy, 2448 
 
 The rainbow to the, 1871 
 
 The rank is but, 3357 
 
 The rascal, thinking from, 413 
 
 The rays of wit, 3533 
 
 The recollection of one, 835 
 
 The reconciling grave Swallows, 1601 
 
 The remnant of his, 108 
 
 The reputation Of virtuous, 2965 
 
 The rich man’s son, 1975 
 
 The river Thames that, 3010 
 
 The roseate hues of, 1789 
 
 The rose is fairest, 1858 
 
 The rout is Folly’s, 1227 
 
 Tire ruling passion, be, 2622 
 
 The Sabbath-bell, That, 3023 
 
 The sad and solemn, 3214 
 
 The sails we see, 896 
 
 The saints of earth, 1772 
 
 The saints should never, 1248 
 
 The sands of time, 1768 
 
 The scale of being, 412 
 
 The scum that rises, 2497 
 
 The sea is flashing, 3012 
 
 The seas are quiet, in 
 
 The seasons came and, 2563 
 
 The secret enemy whose, 1479 
 
 The secret pleasures of, 417 
 
 The sedentary stretch their, 1936 
 
 The seed, the insentient, 2988 
 
 1 he selfish heart descries, 3067 
 
 The self-same sun, 3254 
 
 The sense of death, 716 
 
 The seraph Abdiel, faithful, 1188 
 
 The sexton, following his, 1112 
 
 The shade and gloom, 993 
 
 i he shadows of the evening, 3397 
 
 I he ship which goes, 2565 
 
 The sick in body, 813 
 
 The sight of blood, 2935 
 
 The signs are full, 2063 
 
 The silence often of, 3087 
 
 The silent heart with, 3152 
 
 The silver trumpet’s heavenly, 2151 
 
 The sire of Abraham, 1924 
 
 The sixth age shifts, 114 
 
 The sky Spreads like, 3216 
 
 The slaves of custom, 1670 
 
 The slippery tops of, 1621 
 
 The smallest bark on, 2016 
 
 The solemn hymn, to, 2527 
 
 The solemn mountain lifts, 2009 
 
 The solitary, silent, solemn, 520 
 
 The soul of music, 3261 
 
 The soul, of origin, 3201 
 
 The soul, on earth, 3189 
 
 The soul, secure in, 3201 
 
 The soul’s dark cottage, 3331 
 
 The spell is thine, 1020 
 
 The spider’s most attenuated, 338 
 
 The Spirit of God, 1816 
 
 The spirit of man, 1963 
 
 The spring, like youth, 124 
 
 The spring-tide hour, 849 
 
 The splendours of our, 3210 
 
 The stall-fed ox, 2020 
 
 The star is not, 754 
 
 The stars shall fade, 3217 
 
 The stately Homes of, 1840 
 
 The statesman, lawyer, merchant, 610 
 
 The still returning tale, 114 
 
 The storm that sways, 3159 
 
 The stoutest armour of, 430 
 
 The summer’s flower is, 609 
 
 The sun is but, 1963 
 
 The Sun of Justice, 2ii3 
 
 The surest road to, 2704 
 
 The sweetest bird builds, 1692 
 
 The sweetest cordial we, 1546 
 
 The tallest pines feel, 1605 
 
 The tear down childhood’s, 446 
 
 The tears we shed, 3159 
 
 The Theatre was from, 3314 
 
 The thirsty rivers drink, 3410 
 
 The thought, the deadly, 3150 
 
 The time for toil, 1151 
 
 The tongues of dying, 957 
 
 The tree of deepest, 122 
 
 The tree of knowledge, 2161 
 
 The true friend is, 1380 
 
 The truest characters of, 1947 
 
 The truly brave are, 2723 
 
 The truly great have, 1610 
 
 The tumults of each, 3476 
 
 The tyrant now trusts, 3399 
 
 The unbeliever, Despising reason, 231 
 
 The valley stream is, 3512 
 
 The value of a, 28 
 
 The very generations of, 1196 
 
 The vicious count their, 3338 
 
 The voice which I, 295 
 
 The vulgar call us, 2143 
 
 The waiting angel, patient, 3498 
 
 The wall said to, 398 
 
 The watcher stood on, 2831 
 
 The way to conquer, 2446 
 
 The ways of heaven, 2903 
 
 The weakness we lament, 1247 
 
 The weariest is full, 2258 
 
 The web of our, 2291 
 
 The whole world without, 206 
 
 The wicked with anxiety, 3494 
 
 The winds that play’d, 1S57 
 
 The wintry blast of, 3430 
 
 The wise and active, 616 
 
 The wise for cure, 1126 
 The wise man said, 2397 
 The wise may bring, 450 
 The wise men to, 259 
 The wisest men are, 725 
 The witnesses are heard, 1977 
 The woman singeth at, 857 
 The world can neither, 871 
 The world for sale, 3586 
 The world in all, 1778 
 The world is a, 3572 
 The world is all, 2246 
 The world is just, 3580 
 The world is still, 2611 
 The world is too, 3591 
 The world is wise, 2402 
 The world knows nothing, 1611 
 The world with calumny, 3111 
 The world’s a bubble, 2384 
 The world’s a room, 2131 
 The world’s all title-page, 1929 
 The world’s esteem is, 3588 
 The worst of slaves, 2627 
 The worth of all, 3601 
 The worthlessness of common, 2803 
 The wound of peace, 913 
 The wounded heart is, 2523 
 The wretch condemn’d with, 1890 
 The wretch whom gratitude, 2021 
 The youngest in the, 2283 
 Thee will I love, 2342 
 Their breath is agitation, 164 
 Their daily bread and, 225 
 Their glory faded and, 2079 
 Their lost they have, 2082 
 Their various cares in, 1264 
 Then, as I said, 2764 
 Then before all they, 3503 
 Then ceremony leads her, 406 
 Then come the wild, 2416 
 Then doth th’ aspiring, 725 
 Then from whate’er we, 625 
 Then gently scan your, 403 
 Then, higher, on the, 3254 
 Then is the time, 1095 
 Then let us fill, 2283 
 Then looking round With, 203 
 Then to be good, 1560 
 Then to side with, 1803 
 Then round our death-bed, 960 
 Then unbeguile thyself, and, 171 
 There are a number, 1132 
 There are a sort, 552 
 There are a thousand, 3176 
 There are dark hours, 832 
 There are distinctions that, 780 
 There are gains for, 3630 
 ■ There are hopes promising, 237 
 There are in this, 1738 
 There are moments of, 2440 
 There are more things, 2704 
 There are points from, 2585 
 There are some that, 1905 
 There are, thank Heaven, 2860 
 There are three lessons, 15S3 
 There are who sigh, 396 
 There are who tell, 699 
 There are, who to, 1275 
 There breathes no being, 2749 
 There came a little, 697 
 There comes for ever, 1696 
 There have been holy, 3154 
 There is a bird, 3036 
 There is a blessed, 1780 
 There is a book, 1489 
 There is a charm, 2532 
 There is a city, 1770 
 There is a desert, 981 
 There is a firefly, 44 
 There is a God, 2008 
 There is a heaven, 528 
 There is a history, 1430 
 There is a jewel, 595 
 There is a joy, 3602 
 There is a land, 2658 
 There is a law, 2192 
 There is a lesson, 1291 
 There is a little, 410 
 There is a living, 2512 
 There is a lust, 3111 
 There is a mood, 3436 
 
INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 
 
 719 
 
 There is a pleasure, 3151 
 There is a power, 1S8 
 There is a pure, 2274 
 There is a Reaper, 439 
 There is a silence, so 38 
 There is a soul, 2531 
 There is a spirit, 2215 
 There is a spot, 1582 
 There is a story, 2672 
 There is a stream, 759 
 There is a time, 635 
 There is a tide, 2605 
 There is a wreath, 3396 _ 
 
 There is an evening twilight, 3397 
 
 There is an eye, 1491 
 
 There is many a, 429 
 
 There is no courage, 2032 
 
 There is no death, 755 
 
 There is no flock, 299 
 
 There is no future, 572 
 
 There is no God, 1526 
 
 «There is no God,’ the, 1898 
 
 There is no health, 1718 
 
 There is no joy, 2089 
 
 There is no need, 463 
 
 There is no peace, 3439 
 
 There is no power, 572 
 
 There is no spot, 1836 
 
 There is no state, 2092 
 
 There is no sweeter, 464 
 
 There is not in, 182 
 
 There is power Unseen, 2899 
 
 There is some soul, 1108 
 
 There is strength Deep, 1322 
 
 There is thy gold, 1535 
 
 There is to whom, 2471 
 
 There is weeping on, 736 
 
 There let the pealing, 2532 
 
 There like a shadow, 2140 
 
 There oft is found, 3152 
 
 There shall they rot, 3144 
 
 There should be hours, 3133 
 
 There they lie ! The, 3105 
 
 There they stand, shining, 2313 
 
 There, too, my Paridel, 1936 
 
 There was a people, 1854 
 
 There was a time, 3493 
 
 There went a man, 3269 
 
 Therefore love and believe, 1173 
 
 Therefore, now, a last, 756 
 
 There’s a charm in, 1015 
 
 There’s a fount about, 2880 
 
 There’s a good time, 524 
 
 There’s a grim one-horse, 2662 
 
 There’s a little mischief-maker, 2875 
 
 There’s a proud modesty, 2463 
 
 There’s many a trouble, 428 
 
 There’s many an empty, 1602 
 
 There’s no power in, 2576 
 
 There’s no way to, 3166 
 
 There’s not a cheaper, 3292 
 
 There’s not a joy, 3592 
 
 There’s not a plant, 2563 
 
 There’s not a star, 835 
 
 There’s not an hour, 3453 
 
 There’s nought so monstrous, 1665 
 
 Thereon, amongst his travels, 3226 
 
 These are the effects, 115 
 
 These are they Deserve, 1613 
 
 These are Thy glorious, 631 
 
 These as they change, 3046 
 
 These base mechanics never, 523 
 
 These evils I deserve, 2617 
 
 These external manners of, 1646 
 
 These eyes, though clear, 333 
 
 These great orbs thus, 3220 
 
 These outward beauties are, 2269 
 
 These stars though unbeheld, 173 
 
 These violent delights have, 790 
 
 They abuse our scene, 2727 
 
 They also serve who, 3456 
 
 They and they only, 20S0 
 
 They are all up, 3215 
 
 They are as sick, 1147 
 
 They are God’s ministering, 17 
 
 They are poor that, 305 
 
 They are slaves who, 3122 
 
 They are the moths, 3115 
 
 They Can pray upon, 1925 
 
 They do not love, 2365 
 
 They err who measure, 2257 
 
 They follow virtue for, 3434 
 
 They give the reins, 2701 
 
 They gave to Thee, 2594 
 
 They know who thus, 537 
 
 They live too long, 1698 
 
 They may rail at, 2228 
 
 They miss the truth, 3209 
 
 They more or less, 2764 
 
 They must sweep my, 522 
 
 They pass’d their precious, 692 
 
 They say—ah! well, 1105 
 
 They say that esteem, 52 
 
 They say this life, 2244 
 
 They seem’d to die, 2426 
 
 They sin who tell, 2351 
 
 They surfeited with honey, 3037 
 
 They talk of short-lived, 2535 
 
 They tell me a, 708 
 
 They that do pull, 2031 
 
 They that fear the, 401 
 
 They, that on glorious, 169 
 
 They that stand high, 162 
 
 They would assume with, 519 
 
 Things done well, and, 397 
 
 Things of deep sense, 2848 
 
 Things without all remedy, 2632 
 
 Think and be careful. 825 
 
 Think deeply then, O, 2385 
 
 Think not to-morrow, 784 
 
 Think not too meanly, 452 
 
 Think nought a trifle, 3375 
 
 Think that is just, 3327 
 
 Think you, indeed, Fate, 277b 
 
 Think’st thou the man, 588 
 
 Think’st thou there are, 1931 
 
 Think’st thou there is, 3308 
 
 Thirst and Hunger may, 2352 
 
 Thirst of power and, 115 
 
 This above all, to, 3384 
 
 This be the poet’s, 2753 
 
 This book is all, 312 
 
 This cottage door, this, 1291 
 
 This dead of midnight, 2573 
 
 This deity, whose altars, 1852 
 
 This did not once, 1651 
 
 This earthly phantom, Happiness, 160O 
 
 This holy book I’d, 308 
 
 This hour’s the very, 2229 
 
 This is an art, 2546 
 
 This is some fellow, 361 
 
 This is the curse, 1100 
 
 This is the slowest, 1721 
 
 This is Thy work, 2894 
 
 This is true courage, 361 
 
 This is true glory, 14S1 
 
 This melancholy flatters, but, 2435 
 
 This mournful truth is, 2769 
 
 This my mean task, 2184 
 
 This our life, exempt, 610 
 
 This pretty bird, oh, 909 
 
 This rudeness is a, 361 
 
 This scepter’d isle, This, 1042 
 
 This self-conceit is, 551 
 
 This sov’reign passion scornful, 163 
 
 This was the most, 2026 
 
 This world death’s region, 716 
 
 This world is all, 771' 
 
 This world is but, 2267 
 Those edges soonest turn, 1146 
 Those eternal bowers Man, 1759 
 Those evening bells, those, 219 
 Those eyes, Soft and, 1149 
 Those heads, as stomachs, 637 
 Those hearts that start, 182 
 Those that go up, 621 
 Those that he loved, Soi 
 Those trifles wherein children, 109 
 Those we love can, 2432 
 Those who murder fame, 3113 
 Those who to empire, 147 
 Thou art like night, 1948 
 Thou art, O God, 1511 
 Thou cam’st not to, 130 
 Thou dread source, Prime, 1492 
 Thou for the testimony, 3396 
 Thou glorious mirror, where, 2587 
 Thou hast been call’d, 3136 
 Thou hast honour’d my, 958 
 Thou hast seen many, 191 
 Thou hop’st with sacrifice, 256 
 Thou idol, Honour, which, 1854 
 
 Thou inevitable day, When, 706 
 Thou know’st but little, 3446 
 Thou knowest, Lord, the, 462 
 Thou knowest not; for, 1441 
 Thou know’st the words, 1726 
 Thou, Lord! art all, 1502 
 Thou, Lord, who rear’st, 1514 
 Thou love Divine, encircling, 1499 
 Thou may’st conceal thy, 575 
 Thou mayest smile, perchance, 3262 
 Thou must be true, 577 
 Thou must chain thy, 2624 
 Thou must outlive thy, 114 
 Thou Power supreme ! whose, 2975 
 Thou sail’st with others, 3442 
 Thou sparkling bowl! thou, 17 
 Thou that hast fashion’d, 3203 
 Thou walk’st the world, 328' 
 
 Thou who didst stoop, 473 
 
 Thou who dost dwell, 2293 
 
 Though all the precious, 2879 
 
 Though all things do, 1036 
 
 Though at times my, 1890 
 
 Though cheerfulness and I, 2529 
 
 Though duller thoughts succeed, 340 
 
 Though earth has still, 1747 
 
 Though Folly, robed in, 3038 
 
 Though history on her, 31 
 
 Though I look old, 3294 
 
 Though in the secret, 1314 
 
 Though justice be thy, 2449 
 
 Though long the wanderer, 1832 
 
 Though Reason cannot through, 2929 
 
 Though sluggards deem it, 3363 
 
 Though temptations round thy, 3299 
 
 Though the mills of, 2995 
 
 Though the structure of, 3399 
 
 Though the transient springs, 24or 
 
 Though varying wishes, hopes, 2273 
 
 Thought in the mind, 3318 
 
 Thought is deeper than, 2055 
 
 Thought Precedes the will, 2932 
 
 Thought to the man, 3320 
 
 Thoughts flit and flutter, 3327 
 
 Thou’lt fall into deception, 768 
 
 Three hungry travellers found, 1535 
 
 Thrice blessed is thy, 2477 
 
 Thrice happy he who, 3151 
 
 Thrice happy nation ! Favourite, 20S0 
 
 Thrice happy they who, 1605 
 
 Thrice happy world, where, 1749 
 
 Through me, ye go, 1793 
 
 Through seas of knowledge, 2169 
 
 Through the blue Immense, 33 
 
 Through the love of, 1705 
 
 Throughout the world.if, 550 
 
 Thundering and bursting In, 101 
 
 Thus as they swim, 936 
 
 Thus, born alike, from, 319 
 
 Thus daily changing, by, 103 
 
 Thus far the Lord, 1657 
 
 Thus man by his, 3045 
 
 Thus oft it haps, 562 
 
 Thus pleasures fade away, 114 
 
 Thus some retire to, 2993 
 
 Thus stood they mix’d, 3072 
 
 Thus they, the representatives, 997 
 
 Thus think the crowd, 2686 
 
 Thus through what path, 1869 
 
 Thus was Beauty sent, 286 
 
 Thus weeping urges weeping, 3493 
 
 Thus while the mute, 2378 
 
 Thus yields the cedar, 751 
 
 Thy credit wary keep, 2965 
 
 Thy functions are ethereal, 1721 
 
 Thy great name In, 1507 
 
 Thy husband is thy, 3500 
 
 Thy life’s a warfare, 613 
 
 Thy narrow soul knows, 1563 
 
 Thy neighbour? It is, 2568 
 
 Thy purpose firm is, 1557 
 
 Thy rise of fortune, 2416 
 
 Thy strength, Jerusalem, is, 2061 
 
 Thy sum of duty, 947 
 
 Thy thoughts are here, 309 
 
 Thy throne is darkness, iiSc 
 
 Thy way, not mine, 2970 
 
 Thy words had such, 1022 
 
 Thy works, not mine, 483 
 
 Thyself and thy belongings, 3437 
 
 Till from the straw, 3369 
 
720 
 
 INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 
 
 Till length of years, 114 
 Till now thy soul, 3179 
 Till the day Appear, 2100 
 Time, as he courses, 3346 
 Time, as he passes, 3334 
 Time flows from instants, 3345 
 Time has small power, 2472 
 Time hath a wallet, 2025 
 Time hurries on, With, 3334 
 Time, in advance, behind, 3334 
 Time is like a, 1224 
 Time lays his hand, 3329 
 Time, place, and action, 1453 
 Time rolls his ceaseless, 677 
 Time speeds away—away, 3335 
 Time that changes all, 3201 
 lime, the prime minister, 3333 
 Time, thou anticipat’st my, 785 
 Time to me this, 2588 
 Time was I shrank, 953 
 “lime wasted is existence, 3351 
 Time, which all things, 3331 
 Time’s glory is to, 3354 
 Tired Nature’s sweet restorer, 3130 
 ’Tis a very good, 3575 
 Tis all men’s office, 2640 
 ’Tis an old maxim, 1283 
 ’Tis as a snow-ball, 1200 
 ’Tis aye a solemn, 437 
 ’Tis beautiful to see, 3368 
 ’Tis better to have, 2353 
 ’Tis but one family, 1215 
 ’Tis but in that, 3317 
 ’Tis coming up the, 1346 
 ’Tis easier for the, 1308 
 ’Tis education forms the, 1004 
 ’Tis ever thus With, 567 
 ’Tis every painter’s art, 2612 
 ’Tis expectation makes a, 1134 
 ’Tis fearful building upon, 3092 
 ’Tis first the true, 2609 
 T'is from high life, 2765 
 ’Tis gold which makes, 153b 
 ’Tis granted, and no, 3626 
 ’Tis great—’tis manly, 384 
 ’Tis greatly wise to know, 104 
 ’Tis greatly wise to talk, 1141 
 ’Tis guilt alone like, 1668 
 ’Tis He that taught, 2525 
 , ’Tis heaven begun below, 1268 
 ’Tis her privilege, Through, 2554 
 ’Tis here all meet, 1600 
 ’Tis home where’er the, 1736 
 ’Tis in books the, 355 * 
 
 ’Tis in worldly accidents, 1147 
 
 ’Tis less to conquer, 2670 
 
 ’Tis liberty alone that, 2216 
 
 ’Tis liberty that crowns, 1038 
 
 ’Tis long disputed whether, 2754 
 
 ’Tis long ere time, 1637 
 
 ’Tis mercy ! mercy ! The, 2457 
 
 ’Tis, methinks, a strange, 1036 
 
 ’Tis nature’s law That, 2558 
 
 ’Tis night: behold, as, 342 
 
 ’Tis nature’s second sun, 2353 
 
 ’Tis no theme for, 24 
 
 ’Tis not alone from, 3029 
 
 ’Tis not courage, when. 3253 
 
 ’Tis not enough your, 2405 
 
 ’Tis not for man, 2234 
 
 ’Tis not from whom, 1619 
 
 ’Tis not in mockery, 2787 
 
 ’Tis not in mortals, 3242 
 
 ’Tis not my talent, 882 
 
 ’Tis not the fairest, 200 
 
 ’Tis not the food, 1262 
 
 ’Tis not the last, 778 
 
 ’Tis not the stoic’s, 743 
 
 ’Tis not the want, 3605 
 
 ’Tis not the wealth, 2577 
 
 ’Tis not thy terrors, 3521 
 
 ’Tis not to cry, 2940 
 
 ’Tis not victory to, 3422 
 
 ’Tis only man can, 3563 
 
 ’Tis our first intent, 730 
 
 ’Tis pleasant safely to, 2738 
 
 ’Tis reason’s part to, 2934 
 
 ’Tis remarkable, that they, 604 
 
 ’Tis said, The age, 451 
 
 ’Tis slander, Whose edge, 3107 
 
 ’Tis strange the miser, 2878 
 
 • ’Tis sweet and commendable, 1640 
 ’Tis sweet, as year, 1392 
 ’Tis the curse of, 3074 
 ’Tis the day of, 989 
 ’Tis the Divinity that, 1084 
 ’Tis the fate of, 1287 
 ’Tis the first sanction, 2133 
 ’Tis the mind that, 927 
 ’Tis the most certain, 3573 
 ’Tis the sunset of, in 
 ’Tis thine to curb, 3542 
 ’Tis time this heart, 827 
 ’Tis use alone that, 2371 
 ’Tis vain to seek, 2446 
 ’Tis wisdom to beware, 3305 
 ’Tis with our judgments, 2104 v 
 ’Tis your office, spirits, 172 
 Titles of honour add, 3357 
 Titles, the servile courtier’s, 3357 
 To aim at thine, 1678 
 To bear is to, 1234 
 To be or not, 666 
 To be rich, be, 1993 
 To be thus grey, 830 
 To bless mankind with, 1411 
 To broach a war, 3479 
 To business that we, 2733 
 To catch dame Fortune’s, 1339 
 j To cheer, to help, 2637 
 To critic cold and, 1513 
 To-day in Bethlehem, 497 
 To-day we cut, 262 
 To death I with, 719 
 To die is landing, 746 
 To do, or not, 21 
 To each his suffering, 3138 
 To exalt Ev’n o’er, 97 
 To fear the foe, 1253 
 To fear Thy power, 3517 
 To feed, and clothe, 1287 
 To follow foolish precedents, 2097 
 To gild refined gold. 2688 
 To govern justly make, 1573 
 To heaven approach’d, 3031 
 To him who in, 2503 
 To just contempt ye, 1927 
 To keep the lamp, 808 
 To know, to esteem, 2241 
 To languish for his, 683 
 To me remains nor, 899 
 To me the meanest, 1291 
 To measure life learn, 2257 
 To men Press’d by, 2770 
 To-morrow and to-morrow, 727 
 To-morrow comes ; ’tis, 727 
 To-morrow, didst thou, 3389 
 To-morrow you will, 3359 
 To-morrow’s action can, 3359 
 To mortal men great, 2771 
 To observations which contain, 637 
 To one who has, 610 
 To overcome in battle, 1805 
 To persist In doing, 3606 
 To picture that cold, 1928 
 To purchase heaven has, 1537 
 To send the injured, 2128 
 To shun all allurement, 3305 
 To sit on rocks, 3153 
 To tell the Saviour, 455 
 To tell thy mis’ries, 547 
 To th’ infinitely Good, 1516 
 To the expanded and, 164 
 To the noble mind, 3404 
 To thee alone the, 2963 
 To think for aye, 1978 
 To threats the stubborn, 2453 
 To train the foliage, 3542 
 To weary hearts, to, 2639 
 To weep with them, 3158 
 To what am 1 ,1651 
 To what can I, 114 
 To what gulfs A, 946 
 To whom thus Michael, 1510 
 To wilful men. The, 1142 
 To wish to know, 2170 
 To write what may, 241 
 To you the beauties, 2231 
 Toil and be glad, 1995 
 Toil on, faint not, 2696 
 Too curious man ! why, 1442 
 loo plain thy nakedness, 1016 
 
 Trace the young poet’s, 2743 
 
 Trade it may help, 1530 
 
 1 radition ! time’s suspected register, 3361 
 
 Traditions were a proof, 3361 
 
 Tread softly—bow the, 2661 
 
 Treason doth never prosper, 3366 
 
 Trembling before Thine awful, 1305 
 
 Trifles, light as air, 2059 
 
 Trifles not even in, 3372 
 
 Trip lightly over trouble, 834 
 
 Trouble, and loss, and, 863 
 
 True Christianity depends on, 2951 
 
 True conscious honour is, 2032 
 
 True dignity is never, 860 
 
 True ease in writing, 986 
 
 True expression, like th’, 3234 
 
 True faith and reason, 2929 
 
 True faith nor biddeth, n68 
 
 True fame’s a plant, 1207 
 
 True fortitude is seen, 619 
 
 True freedom is where, 1362 
 
 True friendship’s laws are, 1892 
 
 True genius, but true, 3339 
 
 True happiness Consists not, 1382 
 
 True happiness had no, 1690 
 
 True happiness (if understood, 1692 
 
 True happiness is not, 1692 
 
 True hope is swift, 1871 
 
 True liberty was Christian, 2207 
 
 True Love is but, 2367 
 
 True modesty is a, 2498 
 
 True Religion Is always, 2951 
 
 True self-love and, 3062 
 
 True valour, friends, on, 619 
 
 True valour lies in, 3408 
 
 True wife ! fond wife, 3502 
 
 True wit is everlasting, 3531 
 
 True wit is nature, 3530 
 
 Trust in the strongest, 1423 
 
 Trust is great in, 3401 
 
 Trust me, no tortures, 572 
 
 Trust not in man, 2391 
 
 Trust not too much, 275 
 
 Trust payeth homage unto, 1847 
 
 Truth crush’d to earth, 3395 
 
 Truth is eternal, but, 3393 
 
 Truth, like a single, 3388 
 
 Truth would you teach, 3396 
 
 Turn him, and see, 1382 
 
 Turn thou thine eyes, 133 
 
 Turn to the press, 2859 
 
 Turn to the prudent, 187 
 
 ’Twas when the sea’s, 1238 
 
 ’Twixt kings and tyrants, 2143 
 
 Two altars are uprear’d, 3595 
 
 Two angels, one of, 695 
 
 Two barks met on, 1401 
 
 Two faithful needles from, 221 
 
 Two hands upon the, 884 
 
 Two magnets, heav’11 and, 338 
 
 Two mites, two drops, 3496 
 
 Two of far nobler, 48 
 
 Two principles from the, 3137 
 
 Two spiders, so the, 600 
 
 Two thousand years ago, 2990 
 
 Two went to pray, 2840 
 
 Two worlds there are, 1790 
 
 Type of the infinite, 2587 
 
 Types of eternal rest, 3014 
 
 Tyranny Is far the, 3398 
 
 Ulysses sailing by the, 134 
 Unbounded power and height, 2141 
 Uncertain and unsettled he, 360 
 Uncertainty ! Fell demon of, 3259 
 Unconstant Earth ! why do, 982 
 Uncursed by doubt, our, 633 
 Under a spreading chestnut, 2183 
 Uneasy lies the head, 2142 
 Unerring Nature, still divinely, 2546 
 Unfading Hope ! when life’s, 748 
 Unfit for greatness, I, 595 
 Unhappy he who does, 2877 
 Unhappy he ! who from, 826 
 Unhappy man ! whom sorrow, 2002 
 Unknown to them, when, 2681 
 Unlearn’d, he knew no, 3234 
 Unless a love of, 3038 
 Unless thou find occasion, 3272 
 Unnumber’d maladies man’s joints, 2489 
 Unreasonable creatures feed their, 2618 
 
INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 
 
 721 
 
 Unto a singer at, 3488 
 
 Unto fair conclusions argueth, 886 
 
 Unwelcome insight! Yet there, 2857 
 
 Up above, the thoughts, 1788 
 
 Up and down his, 959 
 
 Up from the deeps, 814 
 
 Up the long slope, 1311 
 
 Up! up, my friends, 2561 
 
 Uphold my feeble branches, 904 
 
 Upon my bier no, 2139 
 
 Upon the stormy waters, 2181 
 
 Vain are these dreams, 817 
 Vain empty words of, 1200 
 Vain men, how vanishing, 2392 
 Vain, very vain, my, 341 
 Variety’s the source of, 3411 
 Various discussions tear our, 3321 
 Venture not rashly on, 3253 
 Verily, I swear, ’tis, 319 
 Verily they are all, 183 
 Verse sweetens toil, however, 2748 
 View all around the, 2166 
 View not this spire, 851 
 Vigour from toil, from, 3231 
 Violent fires soon burn, 1124 
 Virtue’s a solid rock, 3432 
 
 pi Virtue alone can give, 2094 
 Virtue ! how many as, 3443 
 Virtue in distress and, 226 
 Virtue is bold, and, 3427 
 Virtue is the roughest, 3441 
 Virtue itself ’scapes not, 383 
 Virtue itself turns vice, 3436 
 Virtue, like God, Whose, 3435 
 Virtue may be assail’d, 3432 
 Virtue, not rolling suns, no 
 Virtue stands like the, 3431 
 Virtue, the strength and, 3429 
 
 ► Virtue which breaks through, 3444 
 Virtue without success Is, 3244 
 Vishnu ask’d Bal to, 3522 
 
 Voice after voice hath, 796 
 Voracious learning, often over-fed, 2195 
 
 Wait, abstainers, every year, 16 
 Wait thou for Time, 3331 
 Walk Boldly and wisely, 2292 
 Walk thoughtful on the, 3326 
 Want is a bitter, 2783 
 Want made them murmur, 2935 
 Want sense, and the, 1538 
 War destroys men, but, 2371 
 War, famine, pest, volcano, 2403 
 
 ► War is honourable In, 3465 
 War must be while, 3471 
 Warriors and statesmen have, 3552 
 Watch, for the time, 3481 
 Watch ! Watch ! the subtle, 514 
 We all are children, 1047 
 
 We and our fathers, 3121 
 We are living, we, 968 
 We are not worst, 1673 
 We ask'd an Indian, 2360 
 We bleed, we tremble, 698 
 We cannot all be, 2767 
 
 v We cannot always be, 2760 
 
 We cannot hold mortality’s, 701 
 We clutch our joys, 300 
 We drive the furrow, 1370 
 We find the fiercest, 2024 
 We gather up with, 798 
 We give Thee thanks, 3311 
 We happiness pursue; we, 1696 
 We, ignorant of ourselves, 2822 
 We in the dark, 1723 
 We know There oft, 1627 
 We leave our home, 1824 
 
 ► We look at man, 700 
 We look before and, 2190 
 We love Thee, Lord, 2345 
 We may outrun By, 2925 
 We might have been, 2445 
 
 ^ We must all die, 25x7 
 
 We must behold no, 2422 
 We must not make, 2192 
 We need not bid, 2949 
 We need the clasp, 1405 
 We never speak our, 358 
 We overtake the ills, 1635 
 We sacrifice to dress, 934 
 
 We sat by Babel’s, 385 
 
 We scatter seeds with, 2018 
 
 We see but half, 400 
 
 We see not, know, 2968 
 
 We see Thy hand, 1498 
 
 We shape ourselves the, 1439 
 
 We should fill the, 2242 
 
 We slight the gifts, 2249 
 
 We strive with earthly, 1081 
 
 We too are friends, 2141 
 
 We toss and turn, 1693 
 
 We tread one path, 1384 
 
 We view the outward, 2142 
 
 We walk by faith, 1187 
 
 We walk in dreams, 921 
 
 We watch’d her breathing, 764 
 
 We weep when we, 2882 
 
 We were Two lads, 3632 
 
 We will and act, 2565 
 
 We wish our names, 2541 
 
 We would see Jesus, 3051 
 
 Weak and irresolute is, 1345 
 
 Weak is the will, 1957 
 
 Weariness Can snore upon, 1126 
 
 Weep for the dead, 2514 
 
 Weep not for him, 802, 3493 
 
 Weep not for them, 802, 2007 
 
 Well chosen friendship, the, 1424 
 
 Well hast thou fought, 1272 
 
 Well may dreams present, 926 
 
 Well, one may trail, 1066 
 
 Well-sounding verses are, 2748 
 
 Were I, O God, 1291 
 
 Were it no worse, 427 
 
 We’re not ourselves When, 2433 
 
 Were we as rich, 418 
 
 What a poor value, 1758 
 
 What a reasonless machine, 3257 
 
 What a state is, 1668 
 
 What a word were, 709 
 
 What are we set, 22 
 
 What art so noble, 2429 
 
 What art thou, Freedom, 1359 
 
 What art thou, God, 1525 
 
 What avails it that, 1431 
 
 What bliss is bom, 3173 
 
 What bliss, what wealth, 386 
 
 What boots it thy, 3267 
 
 What but God ! Inspiring, 628 
 
 What can Innocence hope, 2097 
 
 What constitutes a state, 2659 
 
 What, dare the ungrateful, 2497 
 
 What do you think of marriage, 2410 
 
 What does not fall, 3329 
 
 What doth the poor, 2778 
 
 What fates impose, that, 1236 
 
 What gem hath dropp’d, 3384 
 
 What God decrees, child, 2641 
 
 What grace, O Lord, 2652 
 
 What grief can be, 2003 
 
 What happiness the rural, 588 
 
 What has this bugbear, 696 
 
 What highest prize hath, 3548 
 
 What household thoughts around, 310 
 
 What if the little, 1007 
 
 What if the summer’s, 3418 
 
 What infinite heart’s ease, 2143 
 
 What is a king, 2x42 
 
 What is a prodigal, 2878 
 
 What is a trifle, 3374 
 
 What is Ambition? ’Tis, 138 
 
 What is true beauty but, 277 
 
 What is beauty ! Not, 277 
 
 What is danger More, 655 
 
 What is death? Oh, 714 
 
 What is death? ’Tis, 688 
 
 What is death to, 671 
 
 What is fanatic frenzy, 1221 
 
 What is glory? What, 1480 
 
 What is honour? a, 1854 
 
 What is hope? The, 1549 
 
 What is life? A, 2227 
 
 What is life?—like, 17x9 
 
 What is man if, 1939 
 
 What is more tender, 1499 
 
 What is pride? a, 2865 
 
 What is the end, 1200 
 
 What is the good, 2556 
 
 What is the greatness, 1193 
 
 What ! is the jay, 927 
 
 What is the life, 2220 
 
 What is the mind, 2391 
 
 What is the point, 2201 
 
 What is the thing, 3204 
 
 What is the worst, 114 
 
 What is the worth, 2600 
 
 What is there like, 1241 
 
 What is thy thought, 2486 
 
 What is true glory, 1482 
 
 What is true knowledge, 2172 
 
 What is youth?—A, 361S 
 
 What laws, my blessed, 343 
 
 What life refused, to, 716 
 
 What made the man, 1054 
 
 What makes a hero, 1798 
 
 What man so wise, 768 
 
 What men gain fairly, 2766 
 
 What might be done, 1417 
 
 What most of all, 3243 
 
 What no human eye, 1786 
 
 What nothing earthly gives, 3441 
 
 What of the night, 62 
 
 What passion cannot music, 2536 
 
 What place can be, 1783 
 
 What prodigies can power, 1526 
 
 What profits us that, 2627 
 
 What rein can hold, 3494 
 
 What sadder scene can. 3290 
 
 What shall I do, 11, 955 
 
 What shall we offer, 2592 
 
 What so foolish as the, 1200 
 
 What stronger breastplate than, 561 
 
 What studies please, what, 918 
 
 What the declined is, 1422 
 
 What then remains but, 1553 
 
 What then? Why then, X443 
 
 What thing so good, 1706 
 
 What thou wilt, Thou, 2137 
 
 What though before me, 1440 
 
 What though I am, 3244 
 
 What though I toil, 1658 
 
 What though unmark’d the, 2726 
 
 What to us the, 1598 
 
 What trivial influences hold, 1335 
 
 What use of oaths, 2581 
 
 What use the preachers, 1720 
 
 What war so cruel, 85 
 
 What! wealth in intellect, 2042 
 
 What, what is virtue, 3439 
 
 What wit so sharp, 1195 
 
 What would you have, 2136 
 
 What you desire of, 362 
 
 What you keep by, 3558 
 
 Whate’er man’s destiny may, 844 
 
 Whate’er my God ordains, 875 
 
 Whate’er of earth is, 2390 
 
 Whate’er our thoughts or, 952 
 
 Whate’er the anguish of, 2073 
 
 Whate’er the motive, Pleasure, 2740 
 
 Whate’er the passion, knowledge, 599 
 
 Whate’er thou purposest to, 373 
 
 Whatever crazy sorrow saith, 715 
 
 Whatever God does is, 2897 
 
 Whatever hypocrites austerely talk, 24x5 
 
 What’s a fine person, 2405 
 
 What’s fame—a fancied, 1209 
 
 What’s female beauty, but, 277 
 
 What’s gone, and what’s, 2632 
 
 What’s time, when on, 1078 
 
 When a deed is, 366 
 
 When a great mind, 66 
 
 When a man’s life, 2096 
 
 When a world of, 3551 
 
 When across the heart, 2667 
 
 When adverse winds and, 3232 
 
 When adversities flow, Then, 1377 
 
 When affliction thunders o’er, 3253 
 
 When all is bright, 2839 
 
 When all the blandishments, 3253 
 
 When all the year, 2900 
 
 When Amruzail describes what, 2189 
 
 When anger rushes unrestrained, 182 
 
 When another life is, 1030 
 
 When any great design, 816 
 
 When at first from, 1672 
 
 When clouds are seen, 401 
 
 When cruel deeds are, 2953 
 
 When death is coming, 725 
 
 When Death strikes down, 693 
 
 When desperate ills demand, 624 
 
 When devils will their, 3307 
 
 When evening choirs the, 478 
 
 46 
 
INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 
 
 When fain to learn, 2539 
 
 When fiction rises pleasing, 3390 
 
 When first thou cam’st, 80 
 
 When first thy eyes, 2499 
 
 When foes the hand, 3540 
 
 When forced to part, 2621 
 
 When Fortune means to, 1329 
 
 When Fortune sends a, 1327 
 
 When Fortune smiles and, 1325 
 
 When fumes of wine, 938 
 
 When God came down, 2485 
 
 When God the new-made, 3574 
 
 When gratitude o’erflows the, 1585 
 
 When Greek meets Greek, 3475 
 
 When he speaks, The, 1013 
 
 When he spoke, what, 1018 
 
 When headstrong passion gets, 2630 
 
 When his reason yieldeth, 3155 
 
 When hope lies dead, 3180 
 
 When I consider how, 332 
 
 When I consider life, 2227 
 
 When I have seen, 3329 
 
 When I rise again, 746 
 
 When I tell him, 1282 
 
 When I was blind, 255 
 
 When I was young, 112 
 
 When in heaven she, 3195 
 
 When is the world, 3584 
 
 When Jacob slept in, 2057 
 
 W T hen kings grow stubborn, 2150 
 
 When knaves and fools, 3038 
 
 When languor and disease, 1949 
 
 When liberty is gone, 2216 
 
 When man is born, 2960 
 
 When,marshaH’d on the, 486 
 
 When men of infamy, 2157 
 
 When men once reach, 2231 
 
 When men’s intents are, 816 
 
 When mortal man resigns, 732 
 
 W’hen musing on companions, 799 
 
 When nature cannot work, 2713 
 
 When obedient nature knows, 732 
 
 When on the fragrant, 1310 
 
 When once men reach, 114 
 
 When once thy foot, 505 
 
 When one is past, 393 
 
 When one that holds, 2017 
 
 When other things are, 1725 
 
 When our souls shall, 1546 
 
 When people once are, 3606 
 
 When persecution’s torrent blaze, 2425 
 
 When poverty, with mien, 416 
 
 When prayer delights the, 2826 
 
 When prejudice and strong, 229 
 
 When Reason, like the, 3626 
 
 When rising wind and, 2944 
 
 When satire flies abroad, 3038 
 
 When self-esteem, or, 1599 
 
 When some beloved, ’neath, 302 
 
 When sorrow all our, 3177 
 
 When sorrows come they, 3187 
 
 When the father is, 440 
 
 When the first larvae, 2470 
 
 When the heart is, 1889 
 
 When the hours of, 799 
 
 When the morning, half, 433 
 
 When the sky is, 837 
 
 When the song’s gone, 3086 
 
 When the soul grants, 1178 
 
 When the sun sets, 1252 
 
 When the world’s up, 3578 
 
 When these brief trial-days, 1437 
 
 When those we love, 2518 
 
 When those whom Heaven, 3399 
 
 When thou a fast, 1232 
 
 When thou dost favour, 26 
 
 When thou would’st take, 259 
 
 When time seems short, 1257 
 
 When time, which steals, 2440 
 
 When to the common, 2110 
 
 When two know it, 3048 
 
 When tyrannizing pain shall, 571 
 
 When up to nightly, 3219 
 
 When urged by strong, 70 
 
 When vice prevails, and, 1854 
 
 W’hen we are young, 75 
 
 When we cannot see, 1653 
 
 When we hear the, 1782 
 
 When wealthy, show thy, 3490 
 
 When winds are raging, 2673 
 
 When with greatest art, 1021 
 
 When wounded sore, the, 2033 
 
 Whence, but from Heav’n, 311 
 
 Whence came of old, 511 
 
 Whence comes this restraint, 506 
 
 Whence has this world, 3583 
 
 Whence proceeds this weight, 3114 
 
 Where ambition of place, 161 
 
 Where are the heroes, 1800 
 
 Where are the mighty, 1623 
 
 Where deeds pull down, 3565 
 
 W T here had been The, 1366 
 
 W T here honour or where, 1351 
 
 Where is the fame, 1196 
 
 Where is the world, 3336 
 
 Where is your heathen, 2496 
 
 Where lives the man, 2486 
 
 Where men have several, 2934 
 
 Where no shadow shall, 2997 
 
 Where pilgrims seek the, 2226 
 
 Where shall we bury, 891 
 
 Where sky begins or, 2289 
 
 Where the prime actors, 751 
 
 Where village statesmen talk’d, 2756 
 
 Where you are liberal, 1408 
 
 Where’er I turn my, 1493 
 
 Where’er the power of, 3007 
 
 Where’er thou art, He, 1493 
 
 Wherefore did Nature pour, 3411 
 
 Wherefore, it is wise, 1951 
 
 Wherefore weep we over. 456 
 
 Whether this portion of, 1041 
 
 While faith is with, 915 
 
 While in this bleak, 1769 
 
 While o’er my limbs, 924 
 
 While passions glow, the, 3625 
 
 While resignation gently slopes, 763 
 
 While thirst of praise, 426 
 
 While words of learned, 2606 
 
 Whilst timorous knowledge stands, 1947 
 
 Who after wisdom flies, 2728 
 
 Who are the blessed, 326 
 
 Who are the wise, 3517 
 
 Who calleth thee, Heart, 1727 
 
 Who can in reason, 1067 
 
 Who can mistake, 3327 
 
 Who can paint Like, 2559 
 
 Who doth to sloth, 1932 
 
 Who dreams of God, 963 
 
 Who fails to grieve, 1635 
 
 W’ho feels no ills, 2891 
 
 Who feels that God, 369 
 
 Who finds no providence, 2895 
 
 Who first beholds those, 2512 
 
 Who has a breast, 2919 
 
 Who has good deeds, 1565 
 
 W T ho has not known, 73 
 
 Who in deep mines, 2169 
 
 Who is sure he, 3202 
 
 Who is the honest, 584 
 
 Who knows the joys, 1411 
 
 Who learns and learns, 2202 
 
 Who lives to nature, 2551 
 
 Who, looking backward from, 3342 
 
 Who lord of millions, 255 
 
 Who loves not knowledge, 2162 
 
 Who made the heart, 1737 
 
 Who o’er the herd, 2497 
 
 Who pants for glory, 1478 
 
 W’ho reads Incessantly, and, 2927 
 
 Who ’scapes the snare, 401 
 
 Who sees with equal, 2894 
 
 Who shall be greatest, 964 
 
 Who strikes at sov’reign, 2935 
 
 Who swerves from innocence, 2965 
 
 Who talks of dying, 1013 
 
 Who taught the nations, 2034 
 
 Who taught the natives, 625 
 
 Who that a watcher, 1636 
 
 Who that hath ever, 2273 
 
 Who thinks that Fortune, 1336 
 
 Who, think’st thou, in, 217 
 
 Who too deep for, 2606 
 
 Who will say the, 3590 
 
 Who would be cleansed, 1812 
 
 Who would lose, Though, 2256 
 
 Who would the title, 3055 
 
 Whoe’er amidst the sons, 2576 
 
 Whoever fights, whoever falls, 2129 
 
 Whoever thinks a faultless, 639 
 
 Whoever thinks a perfect, 2689 
 
 Whole houses, of their, 821 
 
 Whole years of joy, 1634 
 
 Whom call we gay, 1452 
 
 Whom do we dub, 1461 
 
 Whom God has made, 1219 
 
 Whom the gods love, 960 
 
 Who’s in or not, 2756 
 
 Whose follies, blazed about, 1295 
 
 Whose genius was such, 3225 
 
 Whoso upon himself will, 2128 
 
 Why am I loath, 728 
 
 Why art thou cast, 2784 
 
 Why art thou full of anxious, 192 
 
 Why build ye on, 1341 
 
 Why comes this fragrance, 1504 
 
 Why discontent for ever, 883 
 
 Why do we heap, 665 
 
 Why do we moan, 721 
 
 Why do you keep, 1639 
 
 Why dost thou shake, 3132 
 
 Why gaze the cluster’d, 2048 
 
 Why grieve that time, 107 
 
 Why, I can smile, 1925 
 
 Why is the hearse, 1429 
 
 Why life, a moment, 184 
 
 Why lose we life, 251 
 
 Why should the grave, 1595 
 
 Why should these eyes, 718 
 
 Why should we anticipate, 3174 
 
 Why should we count, 321 
 
 Why should we crave, 510 
 
 Why should we murmur, 1984 
 
 Why sit’st thou by, 3345 
 
 Why slander we the, 3356 
 
 Why start at death, 717 
 
 Why this Will lug, 1536 
 
 Why thus longing, thus, 949 
 
 Why, universal plodding prisons, 3233 
 
 Why was his parish, 2635 
 
 Why, what should be, 1250 
 
 Why wilt thou add, 1958 
 
 Why wilt thou pray, 2827 
 
 Will fortune, fame, my, 1206 
 
 Will Fortune never come, 1326 
 
 Will holds the sceptre, 3506 
 
 Will speak though tongues, 1661 
 
 Will toys amuse, when, 679 
 
 Wine is like anger, 3509 
 
 Winter brings blessings, so, 67 
 
 Wisdom Divine! who tells, 3516 
 
 Wisdom of what herself, 3518 
 
 Wisdom, slow product of, 3514 
 
 Wisdom that scorns the, 3526 
 
 Wisdom, whose strong-built, 1328 
 
 Wise experience Gives us, 2943 
 
 Wise Heaven doth see, 2083 
 
 Wise in his day, 887 
 
 Wise men ne’er sit, 39 
 
 Wise men ne’er wail, 3537 
 
 Wise Plato said the, 419 
 
 Wishing of all employments, 3527 
 
 With an equal scale, 2096 
 
 With blood—but not, 233 
 
 With caution taste the, 1097 
 
 With curious art the, 2033 
 
 With eloquence innate his, 2852 
 
 With equal foot, rich, 1235 
 
 With equal mind what, 1068 
 
 With fame in just, 1199 
 
 With fatal and disastrous, 49 
 
 With God ’tis one, 1734 
 
 With grief and blows, 3131 
 
 With him went hope, 1879 
 
 With notions fraught, the, 2620 
 
 With reverend tutqr clad, 3365 
 
 With scanty line shall, 2928 
 
 With scrupulous care exalt, 1228 
 
 With silent awe I, 3021 
 
 With stammering lips and, 3196 
 
 With terror thou dost, 741 
 
 With that malignant envy, 1054 
 
 With the year, Seasons, 334 
 
 With their authors in, 3357 
 
 With throbbing heart and, 1713 
 
 With trembling hand He, 2 
 
 With what an awful, 628 
 
 With what unknown delight, 2005 
 
 Within an upper chamber, 3139 
 
 Within the ample volume, 314 
 
 Within this leaf, to, 88 
 
 Within this lowly grave, 1804 
 
 Without haste ! without rest, 945 
 
INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 
 
 Wit’s an unruly engine, 3529 
 Woe to the worldling, 622 
 Woe to the youth, 1222 
 Woe to thee, wild, 142 
 Woe worth the man, 3477 
 Woes cluster; rare and, 3537 
 IVolsey. Farewell, a long, 1617 
 V/olsey. I know myself, 861 
 Woman’s grief is like, 3541 
 Woman’s warm heart and, 3547 
 Wonder of wonders ! on, 645 
 Words are like leaves, 3564 
 Words are mighty, words, 3559 
 Words are the soul’s, 3561 
 Words have wings ; and, 3558 
 Words learn’d by rote, 604 
 Work without hope draws, 1875 
 Works may have more, 3532 
 Would I describe a, 2845 
 Would you both please, 604 
 Wouldst thou from sorrow, 3176 
 Wouldst thou hear what, 1063 
 Wouldst thou inherit life, 3058 
 Wouldst thou learn the, 1468 
 Wrapt in a Christless, 378 
 Wrath is a fire, 2059 
 Wretched state of kings, 2x45 
 Write on your doors, 342 
 Wrongs do not leave, 3606 
 
 Ye field flowers ! the, 1290 
 Ye friends to truth, 3225 
 Ye golden lamps of, 757 
 Ye good distress’d ! Ye, 76 
 Ye have a world, 328 
 Ye nymphs of Solyma, 2465 
 
 Ye paint me old, 3344 
 
 Ye powers who rule, 765 
 
 Ye princes all, and, 2918 
 
 Ye principalities and powers, 375 
 
 Ye quenchless stars ! so, 3221 
 
 Ye quietists in homage, 850 
 
 Ye safe and formal, 2511 
 
 Ye sons of art, 625 
 
 Ye stars which are, 3212 
 
 Ye who look for, 1118 
 
 Ye writers of what, 2579 
 
 Years, following years, steal, 3331 
 
 Yes, all is plain, 320 
 
 Yes, gentle Time, thy, 3330 
 
 Yes, God has made, 3544 
 
 Yes, He is risen, 711 
 
 Yes, it was the, 996 
 
 Yes, thou art ever, 2894 
 
 Yes, thou may’st weep, 1630 
 
 Yes, ’tis a mine, 315 
 
 Yes, ’tis God’s presence, 1763 
 
 Yes, ’tis the hand, 681 
 
 Yes, we do differ, 3049 
 
 Yet ah ! why should, 1947 
 
 Yet, as in duty, 2356 
 
 Yet be not surety, 1240 
 
 Yet cease I not, 213 
 
 Yet do thy work, 948 
 
 Yet grieve thou not, 3625 
 
 Yet in opinions look, 2604 
 
 Yet in thy thriving, 257 
 
 Yet lest you think, 2755 
 
 Yet man, foolish man, 979 
 
 Yet much is talk’d, 1061 
 
 Yet oft we see, 590 
 
 Yet once more, heed, 1475 
 
 Yet providence, that ever, 2905 
 Yet should some neighbour, 3265 
 Yet still there whispers, 573 
 Yet there be others, 1850 
 Yet Time, who changes, 105 
 Yet vanity herself had, 1197 
 Yet what is wit, 3070 
 Yet will thy soul, 1321 
 You have already gone, 1070 
 You must not think, 3038 
 You play the spaniel, 1286 
 You satisfy your hunger, 3000 
 You season still with, 109 
 Y'ou still insist upon, 1854 
 You talk to me, 384 
 You tell me I, 669 
 You’ll find the friendship, 1406 
 Young men to imitate, 252 
 Young mother ! what can, 3165 
 Your blunderer is as, 2586 
 YYmr edicts some reclaim, 1109 
 Your hoards are great, 1449 
 Your steady soul preserves, 1068 
 YYrnr voiceless lips, O, 627 
 Y'outh has a sprightliness, 2596 
 YYmth hath a strong, 3619 
 Youth is ever apt, 3629 
 Youth is not rich, 3345 
 Youth lost in dissipation, 3620 
 YYiuth no less becomes, 109 
 Youth, that pursuest with, 3617 
 Youth with swift feet, 3624 
 
 Zeal is that pure, 3635 
 Zion is our home, 1757 
 
INDEX OF SUBJECTS 
 
 Aaron : a type of Christ, i 
 his death, 2 
 
 Abel : entering heaven, 3 
 his sacrifice, 3595 
 Abiding in Christ, 4, 5 
 Abilities. Development of, 6, 73 
 Difference of, 7 
 perverted, 3268 
 rightly used, 3271 
 Abraham. Legends of, 8, 1492 
 Sacrifice of, 9 
 
 Absence. Improvement of, n 
 its effects, 10, 1405 
 Absence : its longings, 2310 
 Similies of, 12 
 Absolution, 2872 
 
 Abstinence. See Temperance, 3293— 
 3295 
 
 Battle of, 13 
 Habit of, 14 
 
 how it is to be learned, 651 
 its rewards, 15 
 Labour for, 16 
 Resolution of, 17 
 Accidents. No, 130 
 Acclamations, 18 
 Accomplishments, 19, 966 
 Acquiescence. Confiding, 20, 21 
 Action. Appointment of, 22 
 Call to, 23, 27 
 Duty of, 24 
 End of, 25 
 
 essential to happiness, 40 
 God’s favour of, 26 
 Life in, 28 
 Present, 29 
 Quality of, 30 
 Record of, 31 
 Resolution in, 32 
 Room for, 33 
 Summons to, 3634 
 Actions : better than words, 77s 
 estimated with difficulty, 2511 
 Good, 34 , 
 
 how their moral quality is to be deter¬ 
 mined, 35, 1732, 36° 1 
 indelible, 776 
 must not be indiscreet, 36 
 speak louder than words, 3565 
 Sudden, 37 
 
 their influence, 223, 1006, 1007 
 Activity : admired, 38 
 Call to, 1026 
 Characteristics of, 39 
 Christian, 40 
 
 how much it accomplishes, 41 
 
 Incentives to, 42 
 
 its benefits, 1027, 2434 
 
 its necessity, 43 
 
 Mental, 44 
 
 must not be excessive, 45 
 necessary, 2947 
 Reasons for, 1996 
 resents delay, 46 
 Thrift of, 47 
 Unwise, 1123 
 
 Adam, and Eve, 48, 997, 998, 1130 
 Adam’s transgression, 49, 907, 1192 
 Adaptation. Utility of, 50 
 Address. Importance of, 3267 
 Adieu. Import of, 51 
 
 Admiration, 52 
 Adulation, 1275—1287 
 Advent. Christ’s first, 53 
 
 Christ’s second ; its approach, 54 
 importance of preparation for, 55 
 its nearness, 56 
 its period uncertain, 63 
 Prayer for, 57—60 
 Waiting for, 61—63 
 Adversity. Aggravation of, 64 
 Application of, 65 
 awakens pity, 66 
 
 Benefit of, 67, 73, 1554, 2778, 2783, 
 
 2785 . 
 
 Comfort in, 68 
 Constant, 69 
 Correction of, 70 
 Cup of, 71 
 
 develops strength, 3231 
 Diverse effects of, 72 
 how it is to be met, 1318 
 leads to self-knowledge, 73 
 Resignation in, 74 
 reveals character, 1950 
 Reviewing, 75 
 
 tests friendship, 1325, 1387, 1390, 1422 
 the test of virtue, 3444 
 transient, 76 
 
 Advice : easily given, 1631 
 must be given discreetly, 3389 
 Affectation, 77 
 Affection. Elevating, 78 
 Instinctive, 79 
 Maternal, 80 
 Paternal, 81, 2618 
 Sacrifices of, 82 
 Sudden, 83 
 Tenacious, 84 
 Affections. Strong, 85 
 Affinities. Moral, 221 
 Afflicted. Comfort for the, 578,1028, 
 1029, 1630, 3491 
 
 Affliction. See Sorrow, 3158—3187 
 a test of virtue, 87 
 accepted in faith, 875 
 Benefits of, 67, 68, 99,1628,1898, 3247, 
 3248, 3250 
 
 Comfort in, 86, 1028, 1029 
 Compensation for, 87 
 develops excellencies, 88 
 Effects of, 72, 91, 94, 870 
 Enduring, 89 
 Eucharist of, 90 
 Furnace of, 91 
 God our refuge in, 96, 1492 
 God’s messenger, 92 
 Heroism under, 93 
 
 its purpose, 65, 70, 833, 872, 873, 2974 
 its sanctifying influence, 2690 
 lessened by time, 3330 
 necessary, 95 
 reveals character, 1322 
 sent in mercy, 863, 868 
 sent in wisdom, 3239 
 should awaken compassion, 97 
 . strengthens the soul, 877 
 tests character, 98 
 
 to be courageously endured, 873, 3253 
 to be welcomed, 92 
 transient, 76, 2674, 3247, 3376, 3377 
 views of, 424 
 
 Affliction. Welcoming, 99 
 Afflictions : are often blessings in dis¬ 
 guise, 299, 1332 
 Benefit of, 2900, 3369 
 too soon forgotten, 1636 
 Age. Accompaniments of, 102 
 Approach of, 103 
 comes to all, 104 
 Genial, 106 
 Healthful old, 15 
 
 how it is to be reckoned, 2255, 2257 
 
 its effects, 105 
 
 not to be regretted, 107 
 
 Peaceful, 108 
 
 Properties of, 109 
 
 Solitude of old, 2441, 2445 
 
 the best season of life, 36x6 
 
 Virtuous, no 
 
 Wisdom of, 111 
 
 Youth and, 112 
 
 Age. Characteristics of the, 968 
 Folly of the, 1125 
 The Dead, 100 
 The New, 101 
 
 Aged. Absurdities of the, 113 
 Afflictions and Infirmities of the, 114 
 Characteristics of the, 115 
 Death of the, 116 
 Death song for the, 117 
 Duty of the, 3326 
 Example of the, 118 
 Flattery of the, 119 
 Happiness of the, 120 
 Hope in the, 121 
 Love of Life in the, 122 
 Prayer of the, 604 
 The : should not delay, 123 
 Usefulness possible to the, 124 
 Agriculture, 125—127 
 Aim. The Christian’s, 128 
 Aimless Lives, 2304 
 Alexander the Great, 139 
 Allotment. Diversities of, 129 
 Thy, 130 
 
 Allurements. Earthly, 131 
 Fatal, 132 
 Looking on, 133 
 Resisting, 134 
 Alms. Law of, 135 
 Trumpeting, 1930 
 Almsgiving. A Reason for, 136 
 Alpine Heights, 1487, 1506 
 Scenery, 2512 
 
 Ambition. Baseness of ungoverned, 137 
 Cheat of, 138 
 Check to, 139 
 Choice 9f, 140 
 Christian, 141 
 Cure for, 159, 165 
 Curse of, 142 
 destructive, 143, 152, 2520 
 Devil of, 144 
 
 Disappointments of, 145, 151, 1200 
 Dissuasives from, 146, 152, 1023 
 Dreams of, 2540 
 Effects of, 147 
 End of, 148, 751, 752 
 especially inconsistent in ministers, 
 2479, 2482 
 
 Examples of, 149, 150 
 Fever of, 151 
 
 •*, 
 
Ambition. Folly of, 2959 
 impatient, 153 
 Ingratitude of, 154 
 insatiable, 150, 155 
 its end, 1623 
 
 its misleading influence, 3379 
 
 makes life a toil, 156 
 
 may be an excellence, 157 
 
 Misery of, 158 
 
 Mortifications of, 159 
 
 natural to men, 160 
 
 often leads to disgrace, 161 
 
 Penalties of, 162, 1605 
 
 Power of, 163 
 
 rebuked by death, 735 
 
 record of her triumphs, 2428 
 
 Restlessness of, 164, 1210 
 
 the infirmity of noble minds, 1212 
 
 True, 165 
 
 Universal, 166, 1202, 1625 
 Works of, 167 
 
 Ambitions. Mistaken, 2382, 2446 
 Ambrose. The choice of, 2722 
 Amusements, 168, 1050, 2379, 3538 
 Analogies: their use, 1004, 1951 
 Ancestry. Boasting of, 169 
 Pride of, 170, 1622, 2576 
 Androcles. Story of, 2138 
 Angels : and men, 174 
 are always in heaven, 171 
 Care of the, 172 
 Existence of, 173 
 in their household, 1893 
 Ministry of, 175, 504 
 Office of the, 176 
 Strife of, 177 
 their fall, 152, 174, 178 
 their song, 503, 504 
 their visits, 179 
 
 their worship of the Creator, 224 
 Two, 180 
 
 why they are happy, 1560 
 with us unawares, 181 
 Anger, 182 
 
 differs from hatred, 1714 
 Effect of words uttered in, 3560 
 Righteous, 1714 
 Animals, 183 
 
 Annihilation. Absurdity of, 184—186 
 Ant. Lessons from the, 187 
 Antiquity. Charms of, 188 
 unduly regarded, 650 
 Anxiety. See Care, 386—395 
 Anxiety : deprecated, 189 
 how to get rid of it, 190 
 Misery of, 191 
 needless, T92 
 unfilial, 193 
 
 unreasonableness of, 2978 
 unwise, 194, 1106, 1107, 1431 
 Anxious. Counsel and Comfort for the, 
 195 
 
 Apostacies : are prepared for gradually, 
 
 3306 
 
 Apostles. Unknown, 3405 
 Apparel. Costly, 196 
 Poor, 197 
 Seemly, 198 
 
 Appearances. Care for, 199 
 deceptive, 200, 3138, 3366 
 False, 201 
 Applause, 3244 
 
 Apprehensions. Exaggerated, 2435 
 Architecture, 202 
 Ardour. Consecrated, 850 
 Arguments, 203, 886, 2885 
 Armour. Dying in, 204 
 Art. Impressions of, 205 
 its triumphs, 372 
 Necessity of, 206 
 Votaries of, 207 
 Artifice, 208 
 
 Artists : should be men of pure life, 207 
 Ascension. Christ’s, 209, 210, 211, 212 
 Aspiration : and attainment, 213 
 natural to man, 160 
 Heavenward, 214 
 Sympathy in, 215 
 Worth of, 216 
 
 Aspirations. Benefit of, 2309 
 insufficient, 3227 
 
 INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 
 
 725 
 
 Aspirations. Noble, 128 
 Unrealized, 2226 
 
 Association. Adjustment of, 217 
 Influence of, 218 
 in wrong-doing, 890 
 Lesson of, 219 
 Local, 220 
 Ties of, 221 
 Wise, 222 
 
 Assurance. Bliss of, 1682 
 Christian, 2719 
 gained, 1257 
 
 Assyrians. Destruction of the, 2413 
 Astrology, 223 
 Astronomy. Devotional, 224 
 Atheism. Blight of, 225 
 Causes of, 226 
 Contradiction of, 227 
 Desolation of, 228 
 Folly of, 625, 626, 781, 1526, 2607 
 often falsely imputed, 229 
 rebuked, 2008, 2009 
 Wilful, 230 
 
 Atheist. Credulity of the, 3400 
 Labour of the, 231 
 unworthy of trust, 3426 
 Atonement. Completeness of the, 232 
 Demand for, 233 
 Marvel of the, 234 
 Substitution of the, 235 
 Attainment. Failure of, 236 
 Mockery of, 237 
 Attire. Poor, 197 
 Attraction : reversed, 238 
 Attractions. Earthly, 239 
 Augustine. Legend of, 1501 
 Author. Fame of the, 240 
 Authority. A little brief, 244 
 conferred by experience, 1139 
 how it is acquired, 245 
 Intoxication of, 246 
 its perils, 247 
 
 not to be slavishly submitted to, 2263 
 Authors. Rules for, 241 
 their vanity, 242 
 Authorship. Benefit of, 243 
 Autumn. Lesson of, 248, 2222 
 Avarice. See Covetousness , 623, 624; 
 and Gold, 1530—1538 
 disappointed, 250 
 Effects of, 2374, 2375 
 in the young, 252 
 insatiable, 253, 2374, 3486 
 its folly, 251 
 its hatefulness, 2489 
 man’s last vice, 254 
 Misery of, 255 
 Offerings of, 256 
 of the aged, 113 
 Peril of, 257 
 praised, 258 
 Slavery of, 259 
 Aversion, 229, 259 
 Awaking after Death. The, 261 
 
 Baby. Burial of a, 262 
 Death of a, 263 
 Departure of a, 264 
 its influence, 965 
 
 Backslider. Prayer of the penitent, 
 2675, 2684 
 
 Backsliders : how they are to be 
 treated, 265 
 return. The, 266 
 Bad Tempers, 267 
 Banishment, 268 
 Bartimeus, 331, 3083 
 Bashfulness, 2948 
 Battle of Life. The, 269 
 The Christian’s, 270 
 
 Beauties of earth, symbolic of heaven, 
 1756, 1762 
 
 Beauty : a poor foundation for love, 271, 
 2369, 2557 
 
 and Truth, 216, 272, 286 
 
 deceitful, 273 
 
 easily impaired, 274 
 
 evanescent, 275 . 
 
 excelled, 276 
 
 in meanest things, 402 
 
 in nature, 1288, 1293, 3574 
 
 Beauty: in what it consists, 277 
 its decay inevitable, 278 
 its perils, 279 
 its power, 280 
 Joy of, 281 
 Lost, 282 
 
 Love of natural, 3276 
 Modest, 283 
 not to be despised, 284 
 Realm of, 285 
 typical, 287 
 unadorned, 288 
 Virtue is, 3404 
 Youthful, 289 
 
 Beginnings. Difficulty of, 2248 
 Believer. Blessedness of the, 3025 
 his oneness with Christ, 2603 
 Bells. Village, 219, 2529, 3023 
 Belshazzar’s Feast, 843 
 Beneficence. See Doing Good, 1539, 
 and Good Deeds, 1554—1551 
 Example of, 290 
 its rewards, 903, 904 
 Monument of, 291 
 Rules for, 135 
 Unostentatious, 291 
 
 Benevolence. See Philanthropy, 2699, 
 2700 
 
 must be guided by wisdom, 1475 
 Rewards of, 40 
 Spurious, 1564 
 
 The secret of happiness, 1708 
 Universal, 422 
 
 Bereaved. Comfort for the, 293, 294, 
 
 3 77 , 753 . 754 . 95^, 9 6i > J 594 . I 94 6 . 
 2969 
 
 Counsel for the, 295 
 Hopes of the, 87 
 Bereavement. Benefit of, 296 
 Compensation for, 1392 
 difficulty of realization, 435 
 experienced by all, 1392 
 God’s purpose in, 297, 298, 449, 1424 
 Lessons of, 299 
 not the greatest sorrow, 2305 
 Parable of, 300 
 Resignation in, 2977 
 should not inspire bitter grief, 301 
 Silent worship in, 302 
 Solace in, 303 
 Submission in, 304 
 Thanksgiving in, 2798 
 Bereavements : not to be forgotten, 
 3°5 
 
 Besetting Sin, 306 
 Bethesda, 292 
 
 Bible. Assaults upon the, 309 
 Contents of, 307 
 Effects of the, 3045 
 Esteeming the, 308 
 Excellencies of the, 309 
 Family, 310 
 
 Inspiration of the, 311, 3046 
 its style, 311 
 My Mother’s, 312 
 our best friend, 312 
 Philosophy of the, 313 
 plainness of its teaching, 2950 
 Reading the, 314 
 Search the, 315 
 Bigotry: cursed, 317, 318 
 Bigots, 316, 1406 
 Birth. High, 319 
 of Christ, 323—325, 461, 496, 504, 1622 
 Pride of, 1459 
 The New, 320 
 Birthday. Noting a, 321 
 Thought for a, 322 
 Blessed ? Who are the, 326 
 Blessedness. True, 327 
 Blessings : common to all men, 7 
 slighted, 2249 
 their cost, 545 
 Blind. The, 328 
 Blindness. Compensation of, 329 
 Complaint of, 330 
 Cursed, 331, 3083 
 Duty in, 332 
 Milton’s, 333 
 Prayer in, 334 
 
 Bliss. Earthly and Heavenly, 335 
 
726 
 
 Bliss : how it is to be found, 2378 
 independent of circumstances, 336 
 its uncertainty, 337 
 not to be obtained on earth, 1138 
 Sublunary, 338 
 
 the object of human search, 339 
 though transient not to be despised, 
 34 ° 
 
 where it is to be found, 341 
 Blood of Christ, 1810 
 Blunderers, 2586 
 Bluntness, 361, 2405 
 Boasting, 1204 
 
 Body : and mind. Likeness of, 2471 
 Decay of the, 111, 3331 
 Glorified, 342 
 
 Influence of the soul on the, 2712 
 the prison of the soul, 1981, 1984, 2873, 
 3198 
 
 the soul’s inn, 1428 
 Boldness, 343 
 Book. Dedication of a, 344 
 Books : cannot always please, 345 
 embodied thoughts, 346 
 Enduring, 347 
 Friendship of, 2927 
 Good, 348 
 immortal, 349, 1809 
 men of higher stature, 350 
 Multiplicity of, 351 
 never-failing friends, 352 
 Pernicious, 2578 
 Pleasure of, 353 
 recall the past, 354 
 .heir chief perfections, 355 
 their ends, 356 
 their influence, 357 
 their ministry, 358 
 treasure-houses, 359 
 Bookworm. The, 360, 2927 
 Bounty, 362 
 Brave Men, 363, 612 
 Bread. Daily, 1297 
 Brevity, 364, 1020 
 Bridegroom. Coming of the, 55 
 British Slavery, 3116 
 Brooding over Trouble, 365 
 Brotherhood: acknowledged, 1493 
 Bond of, 366 
 Disbelief of man’s, 367 
 Grounds of, 368 
 Human, 1064, 1065, 1896 
 its recognition in the future, 1346 
 Poet of, 369 
 Bruised-reed, 424 
 Buddha. Legend of, 2673 
 Building. Cautious, 370 
 Gradual, 371 
 Instinctive, 372 
 Neglect of, 373 
 Wise, 1342 
 
 Burden. Help with the, 374 
 Burdens of Life, 2250, 2259 
 Burial. Hymn for a Christian’s, 373 
 of a child, 432 
 of Moses, 2504 
 Sequence of, 376 
 The Christian’s, 37 
 The Sinner’s, 432 
 
 Burial-Ground. Sacredness of, 379 
 Business, 380, 2819 
 Byron, 3035 
 
 Calmness: an advantage in argument, 
 203 
 
 found only in communion with Christ, 
 
 . 2538 
 
 its secret, 394 
 Prayer for, 382, 839 
 should accompany power, 2670 
 Calumny, 382, 848, 3107—3115 
 Calvary. Modern, 1803 
 Candid Men, 361 
 Candour, 384, 1380 
 Captives. Jewish, 385 
 Care. See Anxiety, 189—194 
 and Grief, true friends, 740 
 God’s, 396 
 
 (Heedfulness) : its rewards, 397 
 life-long, 2179, 2238 
 rebuked, 431 
 
 INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 
 
 Care : to be laid on God, 374 
 Cares. Brooding over, 878 
 their benefit, 1027 
 Cause. Finding the, 398 
 Judging a, 399 
 The great First, 781 
 Unseen, 400 
 Caution, 401 
 Celerity, 38 
 Censure. Lenient, 402 
 Mitigation of, 403 
 Ceremony. Hypocritical, 1915 
 its purpose, 404 
 Mockery of, 405 
 Chance. Believers in, 228 
 the atheist’s idol, 231 
 
 Character ; affected by little things 
 
 2299 ’ 
 
 amended with difficulty, 2942 
 difficulty in judging, 1737 
 how it is formed, 965, 3609 
 how it is to be built, 370, 371 
 how it is to be judged, 220 
 not affected by position, 2728, 2763 
 revealed by speech, 3563 
 revealed in death, 737 
 tested by affliction, 98 
 Charity : duty of, 403 
 Legend of Christ’s, 2064 
 the best gift, 1472 
 Charms. Unseen, 1288 
 Chastisement : its uses, 833 
 Chastity. Pretended, 3440 
 Cheerfulness. Duty of, 3370 
 essential to a feast, 1259 
 recommended, 836 
 Child : the father of the man, 2284 
 Childhood. Cares of, 2437, 2441 
 Images of, 263 
 Memories of, 310, 312, 2437 
 Children. See 1 71/ants, 2003—2007 
 badly trained, 2619 
 Christ’s love for, 464, 465, 964 
 Death of, 262, 264, 297, 300, 445, 668, 
 958—961 
 
 Demands for, 3281 
 Education of, 1004, 2159 
 found everywhere, 2295 
 Graves of, 1602 
 Grief over erring, 2325 
 how they are to be treated, 3152 
 imitate their elders, i960 
 Pleasure of, 422 
 
 should be treated tenderly, 1979 
 
 should not be made precocious, 1004 
 
 Teaching, 423 
 
 Thankless, 444 
 
 Thanks for, 3489 
 
 their beauty, 3281 
 
 their claims, 3610 
 
 their curiosity, 647 
 
 their griefs, 446 
 
 their happiness, 3623 
 
 their hopes, 447 
 
 their impressibility, 3626 
 
 Trust of, 443 
 
 varieties of character, 80 
 
 why Christ takes them, 449 
 
 Children’s Hour. The, 81 
 Offering. The, 450 
 
 Chivalry, 451 
 
 Choice, 452 
 
 Christ: a Sin-bearer, 483 
 Alone with, 453 
 Clinging to, 454 
 Confessing, 455 
 
 Constraining power of His love, 2358 
 —2360 
 denied, 1803 
 Description of, 2205 
 Following, 1296 
 for whom He suffered, 456, 457 
 God and man, 2066 
 His agony in Gethsemane, 1466—1469 
 H is ascension, 209, 212 
 His atonement, 232, 235 
 His bequest of peace, 2666—2669 
 His birth, 232, 235, 496—504 
 His charity, 2064 
 His compassion, 2077, 2348 
 His death, 458, 459, 645, 762, 2427 
 
 Christ : His Deity, 901 
 His example, 2642, 2652 
 His faithfulness, 460 
 His first Advent, 2663 
 His forgiveness of His enemies, 1310 
 His help in temptation, 3299 
 His incarnation, 461, 1985 
 His indwelling in the soul, 4 
 His intercession, 2047 
 His invitation to the soul, 2051 
 His knowledge of our necessities, 462, 
 815 
 
 His knowledge of the heart, 463 
 His love for children, 464, 465, 964 
 His love our solace, 466 
 His miracles, 2483, 2485 
 His plea with the sinner, 467, 991 
 His power to cleanse, 469 
 His power to heal, 292 
 His preciousness to His people, 529 
 His priesthood, 1 
 His presence longed for, 468 
 His resurrection, 470, 471, 680, 718, 
 9 8 7 , 995 
 
 His second Advent, 54, 63, 663, 667, 
 1029 
 
 His sufferings, 234, 762 
 His sympathy, 1, 90, 473, 1630 
 His sympathy with the solitary, 3145, 
 2318 
 
 His sympathy with the tempted, 2293, 
 2294 
 
 His treatment of the weak, 474 
 holds the key of death, 732 
 Kingdom of, 475 
 near us, 476 
 Ode to, 476 
 
 our Comforter in sorrow, 3164, 3165 
 our Example, 477, 1118, 2690, 3240 
 our High Priest, 2872 
 our Life, 478 
 
 present with His people, 871, 1578, 
 I579i 2 4 2 5> 3230 
 Questions about, 481 
 Selling, 482 
 Star of, 486 
 Sufficiency of, 484 
 sufficiency of His atonement, 2071 
 suggested, 485, 972 
 the Bread of Life, 479, 2074 
 the Corner-Stone, 1341 
 the giver of peace. 2675 
 the Good Shepherd, 297, 298, 480, 3079, 
 345o. 
 
 the object of our faith, 1175 
 the refuge of His people, 3011, 3012 
 the refuge of the soul, 2538 
 the rest of the soul, 2673 
 the sinner’s refuge, 2944 
 the unseen friend, 453 
 the Way, the Truth, and the Life, 487 
 Triumphs of, 2465 
 unchangeable, 2076, 2675, 2677 
 unseen, yet loved, 488 
 Christian : a pilgrim, 93 
 a sailor, 3026 
 
 and the worldling contrasted, 1444, 
 H45 
 
 at home everywhere, 1128 
 blessedness of his lot, 454 
 depicted, 1528 
 
 his calmness in trouble, 1162 
 
 his death, 204, 669, 673, 1082 
 
 his defeats, 976 
 
 his delight in nature, 134, 2457 
 
 his enemies, 1294 
 
 his freedom from care, 294 
 
 his future glory, 498 
 
 his greatest dangers, 3032 
 
 his happiness, 1527 
 
 his hopes, 1806, 1886, 1887 
 
 his peace, 490 
 
 his safety, 1652—1654, 1657, 1658, 
 1791, 3012 
 
 his safety in the Day of Judgment, 
 
 . io 3 * . 
 
 his spiritual conflicts, 1729, 1731 
 must in all things bear witness of 
 Christ, 491 
 
 origin of the name, 492 
 source of his strength, 808 
 
INDEX OF SUBJECTS . 
 
 727 
 
 Christian : why he is kept on earth, 
 2272 
 
 Christian Character : its foundation, 
 1341 
 
 Service, 493, 2180, 3075, 3076, 3434 
 Wisdom, 3513 
 
 Workers. Encouragement lor, 1006— 
 1008, 2011, 2013, 2015, 2016, 2181, 
 2182, 2299, 2300, 2443, 2645, 2767, 
 3205, 3278, 3491, 3512 _ 
 
 Workers : depend for their success on 
 God, 3457 ... 
 
 their disappointments, 2840, 
 2851 
 
 Christianity : its mysteries, 495 
 Christians : the lights of the world, 494 
 their fellowship, 1267 
 their real unity, 3049 
 Christmas. A Christmas Carol, 496— 
 498 
 
 Glory of, 499 
 how to keep it, 500 
 Hymn for, 501 
 Return of, 502 
 Song of, 503 
 Christmas Angels, 504 
 Church. A fashionable, 508 
 a lighthouse, 512 
 a little flock, 516 
 Bells, 219 
 Building, 291 
 Conduct in, 505 
 Death in the, 506 
 How God is building the, 511 
 is to be found everywhere, 510 
 its divisions, 794 
 its unity, 1266 
 neglected, 513 
 of Rome, 519 
 Peril of the, 514 
 Pride at, 515 
 Redemption of the, 516 
 Spread of the, 517 
 Stability of the, 518 
 the devil’s chapel, 507 
 The first, 509 
 
 Churches. Fashionable, 3597 
 Sacredness of, 3597 
 Churchyard. English, 1587 
 its lessons, 159 
 
 the place where all men are equal, 520 
 Village, 521 
 
 Circumstances : do not necessarily de¬ 
 termine character, 1x22 
 Circumvention, 522 
 Cities. Decay of, 766 
 Citizens, 523 
 
 Civilization. Triumph of, 524 
 Clergymen, 525 
 Clinging to Christ, 2065 
 Closet. Waiting in the, 526 
 Comet, 527 
 
 Comfort. Common, 528 
 Experience of, 529 
 for the tempted, 3297 
 how it is to be obtained, 530 
 in affliction, 86, 87, 93 
 Prayer for, 531, 553 
 Source of, 532 
 Vain, 533 
 
 Coming to Christ, 534 
 Commendation, 535, 2791—2793, 2801, 
 2803 
 
 Commentators, 536 
 Common-sense better than wit, 3534 
 Common tasks, may be performed 
 nobly, 1172 
 
 Communion of Saints, 1772, 3028 
 
 with Christ, 453, 466, 526, 
 
 S 3 8 . 539 
 
 God, 537, 889 
 
 Companions. Choice of, 540, 541 
 Companionship, 2475, 3140, 3150 
 Company. Vicious, 542 
 Compassion for the needy, 136 
 Compensation. Law of, 543 
 Moral, 544 
 required, 545 
 
 Compensations in nature, 2549 
 Competence : the best estate, 588, 590, 
 59 i 
 
 Competition, 33, 43 
 Complaining, 1375, 2523, 2524 
 Complaint : a trial of the Divine pa¬ 
 tience, 546 
 brings no relief, 547 
 cowardly, 548 
 unwise, 549 
 
 Complaints. Loud, 182 
 Compliments, 550 
 Composition. Rules for, 241 
 Conceit, 551, 3057 
 Conceited Men, 552, 1316 
 Condemnation. Record of, 553 
 Conduct. Rules of, 2275, 2277 
 Confessing Christ, 491, 495 
 Confession. Full, 809 
 necessary, 554 
 Romish, 555 
 
 Confidence. Christian, 556 
 reposed in a man, 557 
 Conflict. Spiritual, 269, 270 
 Conquerors : destroyers of men, 1805, 
 3477 
 
 mortal, 1023 
 their ambition, 150 
 their ignoble end, 150 
 unworthy of fame, 1481 
 Conquest. Lust of, 131 
 Conscience. A good, 561, 3402 
 A guilty, 562, 1664, 1688, 2452, 3419 
 a supreme authority, 570, 573 
 a trouble to bad men, 574 
 a witness, 575 
 and future judgment, 560 
 Attempts to bribe, 558 
 deadened, 813 
 Diary of, 559 
 False peace of, 3091 
 her testimony concerning a future life, 
 564, 1448 
 
 it£ awaking at death, 741 
 its awards ineffaceable, 31 
 may be perverted, 565 
 must be obeyed, 23, 566 
 operates most powerfully in the noblest 
 minds, 567 
 Peace of, 861 
 Power of, 563, 568, 3583 
 Remorse of, 568 
 
 sweetness of her commendations in the 
 final hour, 571 
 
 Terrors of an awakened, 572 
 the oracle of God, 573 
 Consecrated places, 220 
 Consecration. Desire for, 1728 
 Entire, 576, 1810, 1812 
 to Christ, 2233, 2305 
 Consistency, 577 
 Consolation. Compensatory, 578 
 in Christ, 579 
 Time’s, 580, 3330 
 True, 581 
 
 Constancy. Emblem of, 582 
 Friendly, 583 
 Virtuous, 584 
 
 Contemplation. Votary of, 585 
 Contentions. Folly of, 27 
 Contentment : a Christian duty, 586 
 a crown, 587 
 Blessings of, 2271 
 brings happiness, 588 
 comes from within, 590 
 Contrast of, 591 
 Cultivating, 592 
 gained, 593 
 Growth of, 594 
 its poverty, 2772, 2776 
 its power, 595 
 Nobility of, 589, 596 
 Profession of, 597 
 
 renders us independent of circum¬ 
 stances, 2474 
 Secret of, 1738 
 
 the object of universal pursuit, 598 
 the secret of happiness, 1138, 1262, 
 2246, 2468 
 widely diffused, 599 
 Wisdom of, 1825, 2296 
 Contradiction. Needless, 765 
 Contribution-Box. The, 600 
 Contrition, 601, 602 
 
 Controversy, 603, 2701, 3382 
 Conversation, 604, 765, 3274, 3327 
 Conversion, 511, 605 
 Convert. Happiness of the, 606 
 Conviction, 608 
 Co-operation, 1794 
 Corruption. Basest, 609 
 Counsel : easily given, 1631 
 must be given discreetly, 2405 
 Countenance : the index of character, 
 2471 
 
 Country Life, 610 
 
 Love of, 2653, 2659, 3223 
 Courage. See Brave Men , 363: For- 
 titude, 1318—1322; and Valour, 
 34 08 
 
 Christian, 611, 1492, 1548 
 
 defined, 612 
 
 Demand for, 613 
 
 displayed in affliction, 614 
 
 does not court danger needlessly, 
 
 615 
 
 ensures safety, 363, 616 
 Field of, 617 
 gives happiness, 618 
 its wisdom, 191 
 leads to success, 1275 
 Marks of true, 619 
 needs the support of hope, 620 
 Courtesy, 1823, 2405 
 Courtiers, 621, 1617 
 Courtship.. Scientific, 2712 
 Covetousness. See Avarice, 249—" 
 259; and Gold, 1530—1538 
 as displayed by landowners, 622 
 Influence of, 623 
 Cowardice, 624 
 Craft, 522 
 
 Creation : absurdity of Atheism, 625 
 absurdity of the atomic theory, 626 
 Cathedral of, 627 
 Conservation of, 628 
 God in, 629, 1526 
 God’s purpose in, 2333 
 its testimony to the Creator, 227 
 Man’s place in, 3387 
 still the scene of Divine energy, 630 
 Teaching of, 224, 227 
 Vastness of, 1508 
 Wisdom of God in, 3368 
 Creator. Praise to the, 631, 980 
 Recognition of the, 2477 
 Creed : of the future, 632 
 shows itself in the life, 794 
 The first, 633 
 Crime, 1100 
 
 Crisis. A Nation’s, 634 
 A Soul’s, 635 
 The important, 636 
 Critics : reprimanded, 27, 637, 1243 
 Criticism, 637, 638 
 Cross. Kneeling at the, 640 
 Mary at the, 2427 
 My, 641 
 
 the source of comfort, 532, 642 
 to be borne willingly, 643 
 Types of the, 223 
 Yesterday’s, 644 
 Crosses of life, 95 
 Crucifixion. Mystery of the, 645 
 Cruelty. Effect of, 2717 
 hated by God, 2447 
 hateful, 2135 
 to animals, 183, 646 
 Crusaders. Song of the, 3156 
 Culture. Effects of, 1741 
 Curiosity, 6, 647 
 Curses, 648 
 
 Custom. Breach of, 649 
 Dupes of, 650 
 its effects, 14, 1673 
 its influence, 2580, 3092, 3097, 3151 
 not always to be followed, 2595 
 Power of, 651, 652 
 Precedent of, 653 
 Slaves of, 316, 1670 
 slavishly followed, 1227, 1228 
 
 Daily Cross, 641, 643 
 
 Daily Duties, 1172 
 
 Daily Life. Heroism in, 1796 
 
728 
 
 INDEX OF SUBJECTS . 
 
 Daily Life : how it must be ennobled, 
 ii2o, 1484 
 
 may be a progress heavenward, 1765 
 Religion in, 2791, 2949 
 Daily Service : the Christian’s desire, 
 ^ 6 54 
 
 Danger, 615, 655 
 Darkness. Spiritual, 656 
 David. Psalms of, 657 
 Day. Beginning the, 658 
 Dawn of the, 659 
 Lost, 660 
 
 Question for each, 661 
 Rainy, 662 
 
 Day of Judgment: its revelations, 31, 
 559 
 
 a day of joy, 663 
 Dies Irae, 664 
 
 inust be kept constantly in view, 2099 
 the final separation, 3072 
 Days : not to be despised, 665 
 Dead. The. See Departed. The , 
 
 795—805 
 
 Sacredness of the, 2662 
 State of the, 666 
 
 Death : a blessed transition, 667 
 A Christian’s, 669 
 a departure described, 670 
 A noble, 204 
 a passage, 671 
 A Poet’s, 672 
 a sleep, 673, 994 
 and life, 2288 
 
 and life alike to the believer, 2260, 
 
 2305 
 
 Arbitrariness of, 3612 
 Best time for, 674 
 cannot be delayed, 675 
 Chamber of, 676 
 Christ our support in, 2067, 2072 
 comes to all, 677, 1235 
 comfort for the dying, 678, 679, 687, 
 1546 
 
 Confidence of the Christian in, 1082 
 
 conquered, 680 
 
 Contemplating, 681 
 
 Court of, 682 
 
 Desire for, 683 
 
 Diseases reminders of, 887 
 
 dreadful to the worldling, 684 
 
 Duty the best preparation for, 685 
 
 Early, 686 
 
 effects no change in character, 3209 
 
 Equality in, 688 
 
 feared, 689, 691 
 
 foolishly longed for, 885 
 
 foreseen and feared, 690 
 
 forgotten, 601, 692 
 
 Fruits of, 693 
 
 Gain by, 694 
 
 God’s angel, 695 
 
 Heathen view of, 696 
 
 Hope in, 697 
 
 how it should be prepared for, 2503 
 
 how soon its lessons are forgotten, 698 
 
 how the fear of it is to be overcome, 699 
 
 impartial, 700 
 
 inevitable, 701 
 
 is going home, 702 
 
 its approach, 703 
 
 its hour divinely appointed, 2252, 3252 
 
 its period uncertain, 705 
 
 its place and period uncertain, 706 
 
 its power, 707 
 
 its release, 703 
 
 liberates the soul, 2873 
 
 Life’s beginning, 375 
 
 may come without warning, 708 
 
 Meeting after, 709 
 
 Mors janua vita, 710, 711 
 
 Mystery of, 712, 713 
 
 Nature of, 714 
 
 never really longed for, 715 
 
 not the end of life, 24 
 
 not the worst evil, 3493 
 
 not to be feared, 716—718, 1256, 1957 
 
 not to be sought, 719 
 
 of a child 433 
 
 of children, 439, 445, 449 
 
 of Christ, 456, 459, 762 
 
 of how little it can bereave us, 720 
 
 Death : of the gifted, 721—723 
 of the just, 724, 2110 
 our liberator, 725 
 of the righteous, 2984 
 our enfranchisement, 981, 1981 
 overcome by faith, 1176 
 Peace in, 2671 
 Postponement of, 726, 727 
 Prayer in prospect of, 728 
 Premature, 729 
 Preparation for, 730 
 Presence of, 731 
 Providence in, 732 
 rarely prepared for, 2219 
 Readiness for, 733, 734, 3611 
 reason for desiring its delay, 84 
 rebukes ambition, 735 
 Rejoicing at, 736 
 reveals character, 737 
 reveals the worth of our treasures, 738 
 should be kept constantly in view, 739 
 should be submitted to cheerfully, 740 
 Shrinking from, 741 
 Sudden, 742 
 Support in, 743 
 
 terrible only to the happy, 744 
 The awaking after, 261 
 the believer’s enfranchisement, 745 
 the better birth, 293, 294 
 the common lot, 2503 
 the end of all earthly enjoyment, 1260 
 the end of cares, 746 
 the end of our exile, 747 
 the great leveller, 1589, 1593, 1600, 
 1601 
 
 the hour of Hope’s greatest triumphs, 
 748 
 
 the last voyage, 3453 
 
 the soul’s parting, 749 
 
 the surrender of his soul to Christ, 750 
 
 the universal conqueror, 751, 752 
 
 There is no, 299 
 
 to be met cheerfully, 725 
 
 to the believer there is no death, 753 
 
 —755 . 
 
 Triumph m, 756, 757 
 unbribeable, 758 
 Various experiences in, 759 
 Waiting for, 760 
 what it is, 2220 
 why it is feared, 761 
 Wondrousness of the change in, 2661 
 Deaths. Peaceful, 763, 764 
 Debate: useless, 765 
 Debt, 1137, 1425 
 Decay. Examples of, 766 
 General, 767 
 Deceit, 768 
 
 Deception : common, 769 
 earthly, 770 
 The world’s, 771 
 
 Dedication : of the heart to Christ 
 
 772—774 
 
 of the whole being to God, 576, 1810 
 Deeds : better than words, 775 
 indelible, 776 
 Unselfish, 1190 
 Virtuous, 777 
 Defeat, 778 
 Defence. God our, 779 
 Defensive War, 3464 
 Degraded. Claims of the, 1064 
 Degrees of Glory, 412, 722, 780, 1752 
 Deities. Heathen, 1746 
 Deity. Inferring a, 781 
 Delay. See Procrastination, 2875— 
 2877 
 
 Avoid, 782 
 Dangers of, 373, 786 
 fatal, 783 
 Folly of, 784 
 
 frustrates many purposes, 785 
 irksome to the active, 46, 787 
 its destructiveness, 3605 
 leads to beggary, 788 
 Repenting of, 789 
 
 to be shunned, 3333, 3345, 3359, 3360 
 Delights, 790 
 
 Deliverances. Unexpected, 1248 
 Delivery. Importance of effective, 
 1015 
 
 Delusion. Common, 791 
 Vanity of, 792 
 Demagogues, 793 
 Denominations. Diverse, 794 
 Departed : are not dead, 801, 994 
 are not lost, 1215 
 are not to be pitied, 802 
 are waiting for the great Bridal Day, 
 2052 
 
 Blessedness of the, 795 
 Dreams of the, 796 
 Mantles of the, 797 
 Memorials of the, 798 
 Memory of the, 799 
 Rejoicing in the joy of the, 800 
 Soul. Emblem of the, 806 
 their employment, 299 
 their influence upon us, 1378 
 unite us to the unseen world, 803 
 where are they ? 804 
 Voices of the, 805 
 Dependence : on man, 807 
 Spiritual, 808 
 
 Depravity : confessed, 809 
 Development of, 810 
 Growth of, 811 
 Progress in, 1672, 1673 
 Taint of, 812 
 Unconsciousness of, 813 
 Depression. Days of, 841 
 De Profundis, 814 
 Desertion, Thought of, 815 
 Design, 816 
 
 Desire. Argument founded in, 184, 
 1962, 1973 
 Benefits of, 817 
 Disappointments of, 818 
 Fierce, 819 
 Holy, 820 
 Limit of, 821 
 Nature of, 822 
 outruns Hope, 823 
 Power of, 824 
 Quality of, 825 
 Desires, 3525 
 
 Desolate. Comfort for the, 2300 
 Desolation. Social, 826 
 Despair : comes late to the brave, 462 
 Cry of, 827 
 
 drives to desperation, 828 
 Energy of, 829 
 Holy, 830 
 Religious, 831 
 Rescue from, 832 
 Resist, 833 
 
 Despondency. Avoid, 834 
 a sign of spiritual growth, 1651 
 Cure for, 835 
 Discard, 836 
 Light in, 837 
 Philosophy of, 838 
 Prayer in, 839 
 Triumph over, 840 
 
 Despondent. Comfort for the, 662, 
 841, 842, 2401 
 Despotism, 3398 
 Despots, 2403 
 Destiny, 400 
 Hand of, 843 
 
 how it is determined, 3352 
 Human, 844 
 
 shaped here and now, 1433, 1434, 1439 
 the point at which it is determined, 
 634—636 
 Veil of, 1447 
 
 Destruction. Dream of, 845 
 Determination. Firm. 846 
 Penitential, 847 
 
 Detraction. Monster of, 848 
 the lot of the great, 1199 
 Devotion. Absence of, 849 
 Ardent, 850 
 
 consecrates the sanctuary and the wor¬ 
 shipper, 851 
 Constant, 852 
 essential, 853 
 Object of, 854 
 Ostentatious, 855 
 Prayer of, 856 
 Spiritual, 857 
 Temple of, 858 
 
INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 
 
 729 
 
 Difficulties, 616 
 Dignity. Burden of, 859 
 independent of place, 860 
 Relief from, 861 
 True, 197 
 undeserved, 862 
 
 Disappointment. Benefit of, 863, 889, 
 1138 
 
 Blight of, 864 
 
 Christian acquiescence in, 3242 
 Compensation for, 865 
 frequent, 818 
 Ode to, 866 
 Severe, 867 
 
 should be endured bravely, 1320 
 Discipline. Benefit of, 868 
 Design of, 869 
 Mystery of, 870 
 necessary in youth, 966 
 Peace in, 871 
 Prayer for, 872 
 Purpose of, 873 
 Uses of, 3369 
 Weary of, 874 
 Wisdom of, 875 
 Discontent. Constant, 876 
 cured by great sorrows, 877 
 Evil of, 878 
 Fable of, 879 
 
 has its root in the heart, 880 
 incurable, 881, 1375 
 unconcealed, 882 
 universal, 883, 893, 894 
 Discord. Human, 884 
 Discouragement. Comfort in, 1523 
 Prayer in, 885 
 Discretion, 886, 2x01 
 Discussions. Profitless, 1364 
 Diseases, 887, 888, 3241 
 Disenchantment. Process of, 889 
 Dishonesty, 890 
 Dishonour, 891 
 Dispositions. Good, 1552 
 Disputes. Fruitlessness of, 203 
 Disquiet, 892, 893 
 Dissatisfaction, 894 
 Dissensions, 895, 1389, 1395 
 Dissimulation, 522, 576, 1915—1931 
 Distance : lends enchantment to the 
 view, 896, 2277, 2445 
 Distinctions in Heaven, 412 
 Distractions in Prayer, 2810 
 Distress. Inconsolable, 897 
 Distrust of God, 898 
 Disunion. Effect of, 3403 
 Diversities of allotment, 129 
 Divine Guidance. Man’s need of, 2388 
 to be waited for and followed, 952 
 Trust in, 556, 2970 
 
 Divine Life. Progress in the, 2693 
 Divine Union. Satisfaction of, 889 
 Simile of, 900 
 Divinity of Christ, 901 
 Doctors, 2429, 2714 
 Doctrine. Errors in, 1244 
 Doing Good. See Charity , 415—423 ; 
 Good Doing, 1539; Good Deeds, 1544 
 —:I5SI 
 
 its rewards, 530 
 Need of, 902 
 Payment for, 903 
 rewarded, 904, 1026 
 the great purpose of life, 2269 
 Doing Well. Ways of, 905 
 Domestic Happiness, 521, 906, 1263, 
 1301, 1685, 1822, 1825, 1827—1829, 
 1838, 1895, 2411 
 Domestic Life, 610 
 Domestic Love : the best Eden found, 
 907 
 
 Doubt. Constant, 903 
 Cure for, 633, 909, 1257 
 dismissed, 942 
 drives to despair, 910 
 Hurtfulness of, 911, 2045 
 incurable, 912 
 Modest, 913 
 
 not to be encouraged, 914 
 overcome, 840 
 
 Prayer for deliverance from, 915, 916, 
 2293 
 
 Doxology. A Woman’s, 917 
 Dreams. Call from, 40 
 Causes of, 918 
 Fruitless, 3634 
 Innocent, 919 
 Lessons in, 920 
 Marvels of, 921 
 Nature of, 922 
 of the departed, 796 
 Power of, 923 
 Significance of, 924, 925 
 Waking, 926 
 
 Dress. Character and, 927, 1981 
 Costly, 196 
 Differences in, 928 
 Extravagance in, 929 
 Fashions in, 930 
 Folly of pride in, 2461 
 Handsome, 1425 
 Love of, 931 
 Plain, 932 
 Pride in, 933 
 Sacrifice to, 934 
 Drunkards, 935, 936 
 Drunkenness. See Inebriety, 2002 ; 
 and Temperance, 2043— 2 °45 
 Degradation of, 937 
 described, 938 
 Folly of, 939 
 Influence of, 940 
 Duelling, 1852 
 Dunces, 941 
 Duties : clear, 7, 419 
 
 not to be performed grudgingly, 2693 
 Duty : all have some, 2494 
 Blessedness of, 1738, 3570 
 Calls to, 942 
 Daily, 943 
 
 enlivened by song, 857 
 
 Failures in, 944 
 
 how made easy, 26 
 
 Moderation in, 945 
 
 must be strictly adhered to, 946 
 
 Our, 947 
 
 Results of, 948 
 
 Rewards of, 949, 2947 
 
 Round of, 1796 
 
 the best preparation for death, 658 
 The nearest, 950 
 the path to blessedness, 951 
 Time for, 952 
 to be done fearlessly, 953 
 transformed to pleasure, 954 
 what it secures for us, 955 
 Dwelling with Christ, 956 
 Dying : at home, 1827 
 Words of the, 957 
 
 Early Death : an honour, 958 
 Jewish Apologue, 959 
 not an evil, 960 
 Safety of, 961 
 
 Early Piety. Beauty of, 3613 
 Duty of, 962 
 its rewards, 963 
 nobility of, 964 
 
 Early Training. Influence of, 965 
 is too often superficial, 966 
 Earnest Men : needed, 514 
 Earnestness. Call to, 2234 
 Duty of, 967 
 not sufficient, 24 
 Time for, 968 
 Earth : a colony, 727 
 a shadow, 981 
 a type of heaven, 287 
 a vestibule, 969 
 
 and Heaven, 983, 984, 1748, 1788— 
 I ?9° . 
 
 Dying view of, 970 
 
 Enticements of, 971 
 
 its attractions evanescent, 239 
 
 its beauties, 285, 980 
 
 its beauties symbolic of Christ, 485, 972 
 
 Leaning on the, 973 
 
 Living on, 974 
 
 Need of the, 975 
 
 not our home. 976 
 
 nothing wholly vile, 977 
 
 Pleasures of, 978 
 
 Prisoner of, 979 
 
 Earth. Riches of the, 980 
 transiency of its joys, 2076, 2093 
 unconstant, 982 
 Earthly Allurements, 131 
 Earthly Delights. Evanescent, 1089 
 Earthly Distinctions : transient, 
 1064 
 
 Earthly Fame: valueless in heaven, 
 1190 
 
 Earthly Glory : transient, 672, 682, 
 688, 952 
 
 Earthly Greatness: its drawbacks, 
 1605 
 
 its end, 751, 752 
 
 not the reward of the good, 1604 
 transient, 1800 
 uncertain, 1617 
 Earthly Honours, 1855 
 Earthly Pleasures: deceptive and 
 dangerous, 770 
 
 Earthly Treasures : soon pass away, 
 3005 
 
 Ease : in writing, 986 
 
 sought in vain by the idle, 985, 1936 
 Easter. Glad tidings of, 987 
 Joy of, 988, 989, 990 
 Lessons of, 991 
 Offerings, 2592 
 Prayer for, 992 
 Sunday, 995 
 
 the conquest of death, 993 
 Triumphs of, 994 
 Echo. Moral of the, 996 
 Economy, 1137, 3328 
 Eden. Adam and Eve in, 997 
 Departure from, 998 
 Memories of, 999 
 Education. Advanced, 1000 
 Atheistic, 1001 
 Capacity of, 1002 
 Delights of, 1002 
 Duty of, 1003 
 Early, 1004 
 Hints on, 443, 3155 
 Influence of, 996 
 Importance of, 3626 
 National, 2159 
 Necessity of, 3281 
 Neglected, 1005 
 Plea for, 3610 
 Superficial, 966 
 Effort. Duty of, 1006 
 Encouragement to, 1007 
 Fruitless, 1008 
 
 Elect. The : despised by men, 516 
 fewness of, 1009 
 Elijah, 1010, 2831 
 Eloquence. Action is, 1011 
 Display of, 3560 
 Dumb, 1012 
 Effect of, 1013 
 Female, 1014 
 its secrets, 3207 
 Method of, 1015 
 misused, 1016 
 Overmastering, 1017 
 Persuasive, 1018 
 Power of, 1019, 2189 
 Secret of, 1020 
 Skilled, 1020 
 True, 1022 
 
 Emblems of Christ, 485 
 Eminence. Ills of, 1023, 1603, 1612, 
 1616 
 
 Emmaus. The journey to, 538 
 Emotions : alike rich and poor, 10 66 
 Empire, 1024 
 Empires. Decay of, 766 
 Fallen, 2787 
 
 Employment : demanded, 1025 
 necessary to happiness, 1027 
 Useful, 1026 
 Use of, 1027 
 
 Encouragement. Faith’s, 1028 
 for Christian Workers, 1006—1008, 
 2011, 2013, 2015, 2016, 2181, 2182, 
 2299, 2300, 2443, 2645, 2767, 3205, 
 3278, 349 1 . 3513 
 for the fearful, 1528 
 for the weary, 3491 
 Strong, 1029 
 
730 
 
 INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 
 
 End. Ignorance of the, 1030 
 of the World. Safety at the, 1031 
 Endeavour. Benefit of, 1032 
 Noble, 3243 
 
 Endurance. Angel of, 1033 
 Reward of, 1034 
 the Christian’s duty, 1035 
 Enemies, 1036, 1304, 1307 
 Energy. Want of, 1037 
 England. Freedom in, 1038, 2209 
 Homes of, 1039, 1840 
 Love of, 1040 
 Mission of, 1041 
 Position of, 1042 
 Safety of, 1043 
 English Nation, 1044 
 Enjoyment. Condition of, 1045 
 Lost, 1046 
 Pursuit of, 1047 
 Ennui, 1048—1050 
 Enthusiasm, 1051 
 Envy : a kind of praise, 1052 
 assails only the fortunate, 1053 
 Causes of, 1054 
 concealed, 1055 
 Cure for, 1056 
 degrading, 1057 
 destructive, 1058 
 disclaimed, 1059 
 Evil of, ’2520 
 Foolish, 880 
 Mutual, 894 
 
 None exempt from, 1060 
 Pleasures of, 1061 
 Power of, 1062 
 Epitaph. A Lady’s, 1063 
 Equality. Claim of, 1064 
 Human, 1065 
 in emotions, 1066 
 in freedom, 1067 
 Equanimity, 1068 
 Erring. Hope for the, 1069 
 Error. Avoid, 1070 
 Flight of, 1071 
 flourishes in every soil, 1072 
 Perversity of, 1073 
 Progress of, 1074 
 Proneness of man to, 1075 
 Errors: should be acknowledged, 1076 
 Estates. Enlarging, 622 
 Esteem : and admiration, 52 
 the true foundation for marriage, 2409 
 Estrangements: how easily caused. 
 2408 
 
 Eternity. Duration of, 1077 
 everlasting, 1078 
 feared, 1079 
 Hastening to, 1080 
 incomprehensible, 1078, 1081 
 its nearness to us, 1446 
 its revelations, 1437, 1441 
 Launching into, 1082 
 Living for, 1083 
 Premonitions of, 1084 
 Responsibility for, 1085 
 Sailing to, 1086 
 unknown, 1087 
 
 Evanescence. Emblem of, 1088 
 Evanescent. Clinging to the, 1089 
 Evening. Duty for, 1090 
 Moral of, 1091 
 
 Prayer at, 1092—1094, 2812, 2813, 2816, 
 3129, 3397 
 Retirement of, 1095 
 Thanks for, 1096 
 Evil. Abstain from, 1097 
 Compensation of, 1098 
 Continual dread of, 191 
 enduring, 1099 
 Fruitlessness of, 1100 
 is often good in disguise, 191 
 its origin, 1101, 1987 
 limited, T102 
 
 overruled for good, 1098, 1104, 1108 
 Uprooting, 1103 
 works good, 1104 
 Evil Reports, 1105 
 Evils. Anticipating, 1106 
 Imaginary, 1107 
 Improvement of, 1108 
 Example : better than precept, 2035 
 
 Example. Influence of, 1109, mo 
 License of, mi 
 Need of, 1112 
 of Christ, 477, 1118 
 of the aged, 118 
 of the great, 1113 
 Power of, 22, 24, 1114 
 Present, 1115 
 Regard for, 1116 
 Reward of, 1117 
 Use of, 1119 
 
 Excellence. Attainment of, 1120 
 Cost of, 1121 
 possible, 1122 
 slowly attained, 2691 
 undeveloped, 402 
 
 Excellencies : developed by afflictions, 
 88, 98 
 
 Excess. Avoiding, 1123 
 Penalty of, 1124 
 
 Excitement. Caution against, 1125 
 Exercise, 1126 
 Exile. Bitterness of, 1126 
 Consolation in, 1131 
 impossible to the Christian, 1128 
 Influence of, 1129 
 The first, 998, 1130 
 Existence. Animal, 1132 
 Argument from, 1508 
 Expectation. Disappointed, 1133 
 Influence of, 1134 
 Promise of, 1135 
 Suspense of, 1136 
 uncertainty of its fulfilment, 399 
 Expenditure. Rules for, 1137 
 Experience : a teacher, 111 
 Discipline of, 1138 
 gives authority, 1139 
 how it is gained, 1140 
 Learning from, 1x41 
 Teachings of, 889, 1142 
 Usefulness of, 1143 
 Expiation ; typified, 240 
 Extasy, 1144 
 
 Extravagance, 1127, 1145, 2878 
 Extremes. End of, 1146 
 meet, 1147 
 to be avoided, 1x48 
 Eyes. The, 1149 
 
 Face: an index of the mind, 2471 
 Failure. Cause of, X037 
 deplored, 1151, 1713 
 in life. A cause of, 50 
 Scorn of, 1152 
 Failures in Duty, 944 
 Faith. A child’s, 432 
 A living and a dead, 1153 
 An example of, 1239 
 and good works, 1154 
 and Hope, 749, 1864. 1882 
 and prayer : the power of, 1579 
 and Reason, 2929 
 and tradition, 1157, 1169 
 Basis of, 1156 
 Cheerfulness of, 1157 
 Christian, 1159 
 Clew of, 1158 
 Co-operating with, 1161 
 Deeds of, 1162 
 Defective, 1163 
 Elevation of, 1164 
 essential to happiness, 1165 
 Gift of, 1166 
 Growth of, 1167 
 hope, and love, 1583 
 in childhood, 448 
 in Christ, 454 
 independent of forms, 1168 
 independent of reason and tradition, 
 1169 
 
 its consoling power, 581, 1160 
 
 its influence upon conduct, 1159 
 
 its triumphs in affliction, 86 
 
 its vision intermittent, 1170 
 
 Lesson of, 1171 
 
 Life of, 1172 
 
 Living, 794 
 
 Offspring of, 1173 
 
 Our fathers’, 1174 
 
 our present portion, 1175 
 
 Faith. Power of, 1176 
 Prayer for, 1177 
 Reasonable, 1178 
 Reasons for, 1179 
 Reverent, 1180 
 Rewards of, 1x81 
 Salvation by, 1182 
 Saved by, 1x83 
 the bond of society, 3401 
 the secret of heroism, 2423 
 triumphing, 1184 
 Triumphs of, 1185, 1705 
 unites us to God, 1186 
 Walking by, 1187 
 Faithfulness. Angelic, 1188 
 Example of, 1189 
 Reward of, 1x90 
 Fall of Great Men, 66 
 Fall. Compensation of the, 1191 
 Responsibility of the, X192 
 Surviving the, 1193 
 Fallen. Treatment of the, 1194 
 False Step. The first, 1660 
 Falsehood, 1195 
 
 Fame. See Glory, 1478 — 1482; and 
 fienown, 2958, 2959 
 Cravings for, 151 
 deserved, 1197 
 Earthly, 1198 
 evanescent, 1196, 1800 
 excites detraction and envy, 1199 
 folly of its pursuit, 1200 
 how it is to be secured, 955 
 is not happiness, 1697 
 leads men to crime, 1201 
 Lust of, 1202 
 must be merited, 1203 
 must be waited for, 1204 
 of the wicked, 1205 
 partial, 1206 
 Posthumous, 1207 
 Power of, 1208 
 Qualities of, 1209 
 robs men of rest, 1210, 1854 
 seldom won, 1211 
 Spur of, 1212 
 strangely won, 1213 
 turned to infamy, 1023 
 Familiarity. Vulgar, 1398 
 Family. See Home, 1822—1840 
 a book, 1214 
 inseparable, 1215 
 Reunion of a, 1216 
 Ties of the, 1217 
 Family Bible, 310 
 Family Pride, 169, 170 
 Family Worship, 1218—i2ao 
 Fanaticism. Definition of, 1221 
 Fancy, 1222, 1955 
 Farewell, 1223, 1224, 1543, 2621 
 Fashion. Ban of, 1225 
 Compliance with, 1226 
 Folly of, 1227 
 Fool of, 1228 
 slavishly followed, 1229 
 variable, 920 
 Woman of, 1230 
 Fashionable —Callers, 3349 
 Church, 508 
 Fasting, 1231—1233 
 Fate: conquered, 1234 
 Impartial, 1235 
 inevitable, 1236 
 Limit of, 1237 
 Men masters of their, 223 
 Father. Affection of the, 1238 
 Confidence in a,1239 
 First duty of a, 1240 
 Influence of a, 1241 
 Faults. Correction of, 1242 
 Discovery of, 1243 
 Effect of, 1244 
 found in all men, 1344 
 how they are to be treated, 2459 
 must be corrected wisely, 2964 
 overcome with difficulty, 2942 
 Favour. Deceit of, 1245 
 Human, 1246 
 
 Fear. Cultivation of, 1247 
 Deliverance from, 1248 
 Desperation of, 1249 
 
INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 
 
 731 
 
 Fear : disclaimed, 1250 
 enfeebles, 1251 
 Exaggeration of, 1252 
 Folly of, 1253 
 Guilty, 1254 
 its misery, 624 
 leads to hatred, 1255 
 Occasions for, 1256 
 overcome, 840 
 perilous, 616 
 Refuge from, 1257 
 
 Fearful. Encouragement for the, 125b 
 Feast. Cheerfulness essential to a, 1529 
 Lesson for a, 1260 
 Sorrow at a, 1261 
 The best, 1262 
 Feasting, 1264, 1265, i486 
 Feasts. Simple, 1263 
 Fellowship. Bond of, 1266 
 Christian, 1267 
 Heavenly, 1268 
 Incense of 1269 
 Sympathetic, 1270 
 Female Industry, 1994 
 Fervour, 850 
 Fickleness, 1271 
 Fiction. Works of, 2578, 2579 
 Fidelity : its reward, 951 
 Tests of, 1272, 1273 
 Firmament. The, 224 
 Firmness, 1274 
 Flatterers, 1275, 2493 
 Flattery. Baseness of, 1276 
 creates distrust, 1277 
 delusive, 1278 
 
 distasteful to the truly great, 1279 
 
 inconsistent with true friendship, 1380 
 
 insincere, 1280 
 
 its power, 1281 
 
 Last refinement of, 1282 
 
 loved,1283, 2790, 2792 
 
 Meanness of, 1284 
 
 Mirror of, 1285 
 
 selfish, 1286 
 
 the peril of the great, 1287 
 Flowers : do not bloom in vain, 1288 
 fading, 1289 
 Field, 1290 
 Teaching of the, 1291 
 the stars of earth, 1292 
 Use of the, 1293 
 Foes. A Christian’s, 1294 
 Follies. Unsuspected, 1295 
 Following Christ, 1296 
 Food. Daily, 1297—1299 
 Fools, 1300 
 
 Forbearance: necessary to domestic 
 happiness, 1301, 2414 
 Foreboding : forbidden, 192 
 its folly, 381, nc6, 1107 
 Foreknowledge. God’s, 1367, 1442 
 Foresight, 187 
 
 Forest. The, 1302, 1303, 3368 
 Forgetfulness. Parable of, 2261 
 Forgiveness. Alternative of, 1304 
 Bliss of, 1305, 1715 
 divine, 1306 
 enjoyed,1307 
 Generous, 1308 
 Granted, 1309 
 Human, 1310 
 needed daily, 1311 
 
 never practised by the wrong doer, 
 1312 
 
 Nobility of, 1313 
 Power of, 1036 
 Prayer for, 1314 
 Restitution essential to, 1315 
 Formalists, 1231, 1316 
 Formality. Church, 1317 
 Forms and Ceremonies, 1168, 3595, 
 3600 
 
 Fortitude. Advantage of, 1318 
 Cultivating, 1319 
 Incentive to, 1320 
 Philosophy of, 1321 
 revealed by adversity, 1322 
 True, 626, 1323 
 Fortune. Blaming, 1324 
 Change of, 1325, 2890, 2891 
 Counterpoise of, 1326 
 
 Fortune. Extremes of, 1327 
 Folly of idle waiting on, 1328 
 Frowns of, 1329 
 her gifts, 1330 
 Ill-gotten, 1331 
 Reverses of, T332 
 Seizing, 1333 
 Superiority to, 1334 
 turns on little things, 1335 
 Uncertainty of, 1336 
 Undeserved, 1337 
 Unkindness of, 1338 
 Waiting on, 1339 
 Winning, 1340 
 
 Foundation. The sure, 1341 
 Foundations, 1342, 1343 
 Frailty. Grades of, 1344 
 Human, 1345, 2383, 2384 
 Fraternity. Triumph of, 1346 
 Freedom. See Liberty, 2206—2216 
 characteristic of England, 1308 
 Christian, 1347 
 Dying for, 1348 
 
 essential to true happiness, 1349 
 
 Foes of, 1350 
 
 from the passions, 1351 
 
 Hope of, 1352 
 
 how it is to be won, 1353 
 
 its triumphs, 366 
 
 Love of, 1354 
 
 Mental, 2469 
 
 must be transmitted to our children, 
 1355 
 
 needs to be defended, 1356 
 not always loved, 1357 
 Personification of, 1358 
 Preciousness of, 1359 
 Progress of, 1360 
 Sacrifices for, 2422, 2426 
 the heritage of the innocent, 1361 
 True, 1362 
 
 Free Grace. Message of, 1373 
 Free-thinkers, 1097 
 Free-will. See Necessity, 2563 
 and fate, 1237 
 
 Discussions concerning, 1364 
 distinguishes man from the lower ani¬ 
 mals, 1365 
 
 essential to virtue, 1366 
 Foreknowledge and, 1367 
 implies the power to err, 1368 
 in what it consists, 1369 
 Inference of, 1370 
 Issues of, 1371 . . 
 
 leaves man without excuse for his sins, 
 1372 
 
 lost, 1373 
 
 the basis of responsibility, 1374, 2874 
 man’s highest endowment, 2380 
 Fretfulness, 192, 1375 
 Friend. A Constant, 1377 
 A Departed, 1378 
 Confidence in a, 1376 
 The Best, 96 
 The Candid, 1379 
 The True, 1380 
 Friends. Best, 1381 
 
 Choice of, 540, 646, 1376, 1382 
 Christ’s, 1383 
 Dying, 1384 
 
 easily separated, 895, 1385 
 Faithful, 1386, 2493 
 Faithless, 96 
 False and True, 1387 
 Lack of, 1388 
 Lost, 1389 
 Mercenary, 1390 
 must be honoured, 1391 
 Parting of, 1392 
 Prayer for, 1393 
 Quality of, 1394 
 Quarrels of, 1395 
 Retain thy, 1396 
 
 reunited in heaven, 2936, 2996—2998 
 should neither borrow nor lend, 1397 
 their value, 1376, 1387 
 Vulgar, 1398 
 
 Friendship : a secret union of souls, 221 
 Boon of, 1399 
 Broken, 1400 
 Course of, 1401 
 
 Friendship : denied to the great, 1402 
 Different kinds of, 1403 
 Duties of, 1404 
 Effects of absence on, 1405 
 False, 1406 
 
 forgotten in prosperity, 2889 
 Growth of, 1407 
 Ill-founded, 1408 
 implies sacrifice, 1409 
 in Heaven, 1760 
 Intimate, 1410 
 its joys, 1411 
 
 Likeness essential to, 1412 
 Nature of 1413 
 needs no ceremony, 404 
 of Christ, 452, 460 
 of great souls, 1414 
 Perfect, 1415 
 Philosophy of, 1416 
 Power of, 1417 
 Price of, 1418 
 Secret of, 902 
 
 should neither be formed nor broken 
 rashly, 1419 
 
 superior to love, 1377, I 4 I 3 > I 4 2 ° 
 Tested, 1421 
 
 tested by adversity, 1325, 1387, 1390, 
 1422 
 
 Trust in, 1423 
 Unchanging, 583 
 Uses of, 1424 
 Frugality, 1425 
 Fruitfulness. Moral, 1426 
 Prayer for, 1427 
 Funeral. Hymn for a, 1428 
 of a pauper, 2662 
 Funerals. Costly, 1829 
 Future. Anticipations of the, 1430 
 Anxiety concerning the, 1431 
 brighter than the present, 524 
 hidden from us, 20, 556, 1030, 1435 
 Hope for a, 1540 
 Hope for the, 1433 
 Left with God, 2967, 2968 
 Obscurity of the, 1436, 1446, 1447 
 Preparation for the, 29 
 Present and, 1437 
 Prophecies of the, 2676 
 Promises of the, 1438, 2880, 2881 
 The Christian’s, 1444 
 The Worldling’s, 1445 
 Unknown, 1979, 2910, 2911 
 what it has in store for us, 1443 
 Future Life. Certainty of a, 564, 1448, 
 
 I 75 I , 
 
 Hope for the, 1433 
 Hue of the, 1434 
 its revelations, 1441 
 
 Our ignorance concerning the, 1432, 
 
 1435 . 1446 
 Shaping the, 1439 
 
 Future Rewards and Punishments, 
 1079, 34 z6 
 
 Gain. Criminal, 1449 
 Gambling, 1450 
 Garden, 1451 
 Gayety. Innocent, 1452 
 Generosity, 28, 362 
 Genius : a gift of nature, 1453 
 does not secure happiness, 1697 
 Hope and, 1454 
 Impediments of, 1455 
 its vicissitudes, 838 
 limited in its range, 1456 
 misled, 138 
 
 often misunderstood, 1457 
 Piety and, 1454 
 the gift of God, 2850 
 Gentility, 170, 1459 
 I Gentleman, 1460—1462 
 Gentleness, 1463, 1464 
 Geology, 1465 
 
 Gethsemane. Agony in, 1466 
 Christ in, 1467 
 Lesson of, 1468 
 symbolic, 172 
 View of 1469 
 
 Gifted. Death of the, 721, 722 
 Gifts. See Offerings, 2590—2594 
 are to be used, 3269 
 
732 
 
 INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 
 
 Gifts. Influence of, 1470 
 
 may be rendered valueless, 1471 
 Spiritual, 1472 
 Giving. Analogies of, 1473 
 Blessedness of, 530, 903 
 Grounds for, 1474 
 must be performed discreetly, 1475 
 must not be confined to money, 418 
 Reward of, 1476 
 the condition of getting, 1477 
 Glory. See Fame, 1196—1213 
 a shadow, 1260 
 brings little happiness, 1478 
 exposes us to envy, 1479 
 not the highest end of life, 24 
 of self-sacrifice, 3024 
 often basely won, 1799 
 transient, 1480 
 true, 420, 1481, 1482, 2676 
 Glory of God : how it is rendered, 1483 
 may be sought in all things, 1484 
 usurped by man, 1485 
 Gluttons, 1264 
 Gluttony, i486 
 God. Abode of, 1487 
 Attractions of, 1488 
 Book of, 1489 
 Boundless love of, 1490 
 Care of, 1491 
 Eternal, 2536 
 Eternity of, 1492 
 everywhere present, 1493 
 for what reason He is to be served, 1273 
 Fulness of, 1494 
 Glory of, 1495 
 Greatness of, 1496 
 His blessing essential to success, 26 
 His care for all His creatures, 1403, 
 
 1494, 1504 
 
 His care for His people, 392, 393, 586, 
 
 1297 
 
 His care for mankind, 2881, 2908 
 
 His delight in virtue, 1973 
 
 His delight in His people, 1497 
 
 His dwelling in the heart, 1734 
 
 His foreknowledge, 1367, 1374 
 
 His gifts irrevocable, 441 
 
 His glory revealed in nature, 631, 632 
 
 His goodness in creation, 3411 
 
 His knowledge pf our afflictions, 87 
 
 His long-suffering, 1498, 2818 
 
 His love, 1499 
 
 His love and mercy, 2503 
 
 His love unchangeable, 3329 
 
 His mercy, 2454 
 
 His patience, 3455 
 
 His pity, 2724 
 
 His power, 628 
 
 His power to deliver, 1258 
 
 His presence with His people, 875 
 
 His purpose in Creation, 2333 
 
 His sufficiency, 1500 
 
 H is sympathy with 11s, 3262 
 
 how He is to be found, 2717 
 
 in nature, 2522 
 
 incomprehensible, 1501, 2926, 2928 
 
 Infinity of, 1502 
 
 Knowledge of, 1503 
 
 Love of, 1504, 1525 
 
 matchlessness of His glory, 1508 
 
 Messengers of, 1505 
 
 Morning Hymn to, 1506 
 
 Name of, 1507 
 
 no respecter of persons, 367 
 
 Ode to, 1508 
 
 Omnipotence of, 1509 
 
 Omnipresence of, 1510 
 
 omniscient, 2602 
 
 omnipresent, 2601 
 
 our life and light, 2511 
 
 our refuge in affliction, 96 
 
 Praise to, 1512 
 
 reveals Himself only to the humble, 
 
 1513 
 
 search for, 8 
 
 seen in little things, 1514 
 
 Submission to, 1515 
 
 Thanks due to, 1516 
 
 the Author and End of our being, 900, 
 
 1517 . 
 
 the choice of the wise, 1495 1 
 
 God : the defence of His people, 779 
 the Eternal Father, 1518 
 the hearer of prayer, 2823, 2827, 2832 
 the only satisfaction of the soul, 2693 
 the portion of His people, 1500 
 the portion of the soul, 2981, 2985 
 the soul of Nature, 1519 
 the soul’s supreme joy, 1520 
 the source of all blessedness, 1521 
 the unsearchable Name, 1522 
 Thought of, 1523 
 waiting, 1524 
 What is, 1525 
 
 Will to be done cheerfully, 420 
 Works of, 1526 
 God’s Acre, 379 
 Godliness, 1527, 1528 
 Godsends, 1529 
 Gold : a curse, 1531 
 a god, 1532 
 Bribery of, 1530 
 Description of, 1533 
 harmless, 1534 
 
 its corrupting power, 2373, 2374 
 Poison of, 1535 
 Power of, 1536 
 Powerlessness of, 581, 1537 
 Want of, 1538 
 
 Golden Age. The, 503, 2270 
 Good. Doing, 1534 
 Final, 1540 
 in every man, 1002 
 seldom valued, 1541 
 Unexpected, 1542 
 Good Actions, 34 
 Good-Bye, 1543 
 
 Good Deeds : are more than words, 1544 
 constitute true life, 28 
 done for Christ, 135 
 enrich the poor, 1545 
 Memory of, 1546 
 repaid, 1547 
 
 should be done boldly, 1548 
 should be done humbly, 1549 
 the best monument, 291 
 the best prayers, 1550 
 their influence, 1551, 3431 
 Good Dispositions, 1552 
 Good Humour, 1553 
 Good Intentions, 3448, 3449 
 Good Men : benefited by adversity, 1554 
 neglected, 2566 
 their reward, 1604 
 
 Good Name. See Reputation, 2965 
 Love of, 1555 
 Value of, 1556 
 Good Nature, 1306 
 Good Purposes, 1557 
 Good Temper, 3292 
 Good Works: must be conjoined with 
 faith, 1161 
 
 the flowers of faith and love, 1173 
 which is the best, 1558 
 Goodness. Beauty of, 1559 
 best of all, 434 
 Happiness of, 1560 
 Immortality of, 1561, 2012 
 must be active, 905 
 Nobility of, 1562 
 Power of, 1563 
 Reputation of, 1564 
 Reward of, 1565 
 Teaching, 1566 
 
 Gospel ; its revelation of God, 1581 
 preached in vain, 845 
 rejected, 2938 
 Spread of the, 517 
 Traits of the, 1567 
 Trumpet. The, 1568 
 Gospel Preaching, 2853 
 Government. Art of, 1569 
 Blessings of a, 1570 
 Forms of, 1571, 2756 
 Free, 1572 
 Glory of a, 1573 
 
 how little it can do to lessen sorrow, 
 
 1574 
 
 must not be surrendered to the vicious, 
 
 1575 
 
 Rules for, 1576 
 Grace: abused, 1577 
 
 Grace : and glory, 1580 
 Comfort in, 1578 
 Free, 1257, 1579 
 Gospel, 1581 
 
 is proportioned to our needs, 3232 
 our need of it, 1345 
 Throne of, 1582 
 Graces. A Trio of, 1583 
 Gratitude. See Tha?ik/ubiess, 3310— 
 3312 
 
 for Providential mercies, 431 
 Instinct of, 1584 
 Reward of, 1585 
 Unutterable, 1586, 2834 
 Grave : a resting-place, 994 
 a treasure-chamber, 1588 
 Adorning the, 1587 
 awaits us all, 1589 
 Blossom for the, 1590 
 Choice of a, 1591 
 Christ in the, 1592 
 Congregation of the, 1593 
 Couch of the, 1594 
 dreaded, 1595 
 Hymn of the, 1596 
 Inhabitants of the, 1597 
 its lessons forgotten, 1598 
 Lesson of the, 1599 
 not dreaded, 976 
 the common resting-place, ifioo 
 the great reconciler, 1601 
 Grave-Digger, 3077 
 Graves of Children, 1602 
 Gray’s Elegy, 521 
 
 Great Deeds : the result of faith, 
 1162 
 
 Great Men. Defects of, 1603 
 Good, 1604 
 
 Homage rendered to, 1606 
 influence of their example, 1113, 1116 
 not to be envied, 1605 
 not valued until after death, 1207 
 often envy the obscure, 1607 
 should be good men, 1608 
 should use their power gently, 1609 
 soon forgotten, 1196, 1211 
 their forgetfulness, 154 
 their perils, 1287 
 their influence immortal, 1610 
 Great Thoughts, 3327 
 Great Truths, 3392 
 Greatest ? Who are the, 964 
 Grfatness. Abuse of, 154 
 burdensome, 1612 
 Deserved, 1613 
 
 does not necessarily bring happiness, 
 1614 
 
 Enduring, 1615 
 
 exposes its possessors to hatred, 1616 
 Fallen, 1617 
 False, 1618 
 
 how it is reached, 1120, 1121 
 Influence of, 24 
 Influence of place on, 1619 
 is not necessarily excellence, 1620 
 its end, 521 
 
 its penalties, 162, 1023, 1402 
 Perils of, 1621 
 Standard of, 1622 
 transient, 1623 
 True, 1624 
 
 Who shall be greatest? 1625 
 Grief. See Sorrow, 3158—3187 
 See Weeping, 3493 
 a burden, 1626 
 Avarice in, 1627 
 Benefit of, 1628 
 concealed, 1629 
 Consolation for, 1630 
 Counselling, 1631 
 Difficulty of ministering to, 1632 
 Dismission of, 1633 
 Effects of, 1634 
 Hopeless, 831 
 Immoderate, 1635 
 Impressions of, 1636 
 in childhood, 446, 3622 
 Influence of time on, 1637, 3350 
 its cure, 40 
 
 not to be cherished, 834 
 not to be forestalled, 1638 
 
733 
 
 INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 
 
 Grief: not to be overcome by mere 
 philosophy, 2706 
 Nursing, 1639 
 Obstinate, 1640 
 Overwhelming, 1641 
 Passionless, 1642 
 Prayer in, 3493. 
 should not be bitter, 301 
 should be calm, 92 
 Silent, 1643 . 
 
 solitude sought in vain, 1044 
 Sympathy in, 1645 
 Transient, 408, 427, 429 
 Unseen, 1646 
 
 Growth : heavenward, 1047 
 True, 1648 , , 
 
 Growth in Grace : desired, 1469 
 how it is furthered, 1650, 2947 
 imperceptible, 2645 
 Signs of, 1651 
 
 Guardian Angels, 172, * 74 . x 77 > lSO 
 Guests. Treatment of, 1224 
 Guidance Divine : always to be trust¬ 
 ed, 1653, 
 
 ensures safety, 1052 
 Prayer for, 1655 
 Seeking, 1656 
 sure and wise, 1654 
 Trust in, 1440, 1492, 1657, 1058 
 vouchsafed to Christ s servants, 1659 
 Guilt. Beginning of, 1660 
 cannot be concealed, 1661 
 Effects of, 1662 
 Folly of incurring, 1663 
 inspires fear, 562 
 Penalties of, 1254, 1664 
 Possibilities of, 1665 
 registered in heaven, 1666 
 Signs of, 1667 
 
 Terrors and torments of, 1068, 2109 
 Timidity of, 1669 
 
 Habit. See Custom , 649—653 
 its transforming power, 954 
 Slaves of, 1670 
 Habits. Change of, 1671 
 easily formed, 1097 
 Effects of evil, 1074 
 Evil, 1672 
 Growth of, 1673 
 Holy, 1674 
 how formed, 14 
 Hairs. Grey, 1675 
 Half Views : deceptive, 1676 
 Hand. The, 1677 
 Happiness. See Bliss, 335 341 
 
 Aiming for, 1678 
 by whom it is found, 1079, 1000 
 cannot be bought, 3210, 3486 
 Caution of, 1681 
 Christian, 1682 
 Conditions of, 1683 
 denied to the bad, 1684 
 depends upon health, 1716 
 does not depend on success, 3 2 43 
 Domestic, 1685 
 Enduring, 1686 
 Example of, 1687 
 Excessive, 1688 
 found in the household, 1895 
 Gauge of, 1689 
 Haunts of, 1690 
 Hours of, 1691 
 
 how it is to be attained, 2243 
 
 how it is to be won, 596, 1692, 2434 
 
 in poverty, 2272, 2276 
 
 in what it consists, 1693 
 
 its true foundation, 1341 
 
 King’s idea of, 1694 
 
 makes death terrible, 744 
 
 may be found everywhere, 1704 
 
 more precious than gold, 1695 
 
 never found on earth, 1696. _ 
 
 not found in worldly festivities, 
 
 not necessarily the portion of the gated, 
 
 1697 . , 
 
 not the gift of philosophy, 2710 
 not to be found in earthly things, 3035, 
 
 3039 QQ 
 
 Our insufficiency to guard our, 2388 
 outlived, 1698 
 
 dAPPINESS. Price of, 1699 
 promoted by exercise, 1126 
 Pursuit of, 1133. x 7 00 > I 7 ° I 
 Secret of, 195° 
 soon leaves us", 1702 
 springs from within, 1045, I 7 ° 3 - 1825 
 the reward of labour, i 997 > 2I 78 > 34 2 9 
 The secret of, 1171 
 Theories of, 1704, 2926 
 Trustful, 1705 
 uncertain, 1706 
 Unexpected, 1707 
 Virtue and, 1708 
 where it is found, 588, 590 
 Harvest. Spiritual, 1709 
 
 Thanksgiving Hymn, 1710, 1711, 17 12 
 Thoughts for the, 1713 
 Hatred: a crime, 1714 
 differs from anger, 1714 
 Cure of, 1715 
 inspired by fear, 1255 
 Havelock, 1189 . 
 
 Health : essential to happiness, 1710 
 how it is impaired, 2044 
 Influence of hope on, 1874 
 Ingredients of, 17*7 
 promoted by exercise, 1126, 1995, 2179 
 rarely enjoyed, 1718 
 Road to, 2714 
 
 uncertain, 1719 . , 
 
 Hearers: how they invert the truth, 
 
 1720 
 
 Hearing. Mystery of, 1721 
 Sense of, 17 22 
 
 Heart : a camera obscura, 1723 
 activity of the, 1724 
 Breaking a, 1725 
 Burying a, 1726 
 Calls to the, 1727 
 Consecration of the, 1728 
 Contents of the, 1729 
 Darkness in the, 1730 
 Dedication to Christ, 77 2 ~ 774 . x 7 2ti 
 Depravity of the, 1731 
 Determines the moral quality of our 
 actions, 1732 
 Germs in the, 1733 
 God’s love for the, 1734 
 Hardening the, 635 
 Highway of the, 1735 
 Influence of the, 1736 
 insatiable, 3409 
 
 its longings for sympathy, 1002 
 its void, 894 
 Judging the, 1737 
 known only to God, 403 
 known to Christ, 462, 476, 643 
 Music in the, 1738 
 out of tune, 1739 
 
 should be the supreme object of care, 
 x 74 ° , 
 
 Soil of the, 1741 
 Stillness in the, 1742 
 Storms in the, 1743 
 the foundation of feeling, 1744 
 the true temple, 1811, 2385 
 Weakness of the, 1745 
 Heathen Offerings, 2593 
 Heathenism : at the birth of Christ, 
 
 3 2 3 
 
 Gods of, 1746 
 Heaven : a necessity, 237 
 A year in, 1748 
 Attractions of, 1747 
 and Earth, 1788—1790 
 Certainty of, 1750 
 Children in, 2006 
 cloudless, 1751 
 contrasted with earth, 984 
 
 Delights of, 1753 
 Desiring, 1755 
 despised, 1758, 1783 
 Distinctions in, 780, 1752 
 Emblems of, 1756 
 Epitome of, 1757 
 Esteeming, 1758 
 for whom it is reserved, 1759 
 Friendship in, 1760 
 Gleams of, 1761 
 Glory of, 1762 
 God in, 1763 
 
 Heaven : has its seat in the soul, 1764 
 how it is to be reached, 1765, 3227 
 incorruptible, 1766 
 indescribable, 1081 
 its blessedness, 663, 1749 
 its inhabitants, 217 
 its joys, 338, 1268, 1767 
 its loveliness, 983 
 its present enjoyment, 1768, 1769 
 its present influence, 1770, 1771 
 Knowledge in, 1772 
 Life in, 1748 
 
 Longing for, 976, 1080, i 754 > T 9°9 
 made more attractive by bereavements, 
 
 44i 
 
 Meetings in, 1773 
 
 must be made distinctly our aim, 2045 
 Nearing, 1774 
 Nearness of, 1775 
 No night in, 1776 
 No stranger in, 1777 
 not to be sacrificed for the pleasures of 
 earth, 1778 
 Obscurity of, 1779 
 our home, 1780 
 Prayer for, 1781 
 Premonitions of, 3625 
 Preparing for, 268 
 Progress in, 1972 
 
 Recognition in, 1782, 2936, 2991, 2997, 
 3 2 °9 
 
 Reunion of friends in, 1392, 2431, 2432 
 Scorning, 1783 
 the better land, 2188 
 the end of the Christian’s pilgrimage, 
 
 the^hope of the sorrowful, 528 
 The Indian’s, 1785 
 unveiled, 1786 
 Varieties of mind in, 2041 
 will not be strange to us, 1787 
 Heedfulness, 379 
 Hell : has its seat in the soul, 179 1 
 has no terrors for the Christian, 1171 
 Memory a, 1792 
 Portal of, 1793 
 The real, 3435 
 Help. Mutual, 1794 ^ 
 
 needed, 002 , 
 
 Hereditary: honours, 319 
 virtues, 170 
 
 Heritage: of rich and poor, 1795 
 Hero. A modern, 1189, 1796 
 Death of a, 1797 
 Marks of the, 1798 
 the title is often basely won, 1799 
 Hero Worship, 1806 
 Heroes. Forgotten, 1800 
 God’s, 1801 
 live to-day, 3590 
 Moral, 1802 
 
 the enemies of mankind, 1622 
 True, 1803 
 
 Heroine. Grave of a, 1804 
 Heroism. Call to, 24 
 displayed in trouble, 1193 
 Military, 1805 
 
 possible in daily life, 1172, 3553 
 Secret of true, 1189, 2423 
 springs from faith, 1162 
 Hindrances: may become helps, 1120 
 Historians. Follies of, 1807 
 Rules for, 1808 
 History. Duration of, 1809 
 mournfulness of its record, 13UO 
 Holiness. Seeking, 1810 
 Throne of, 1811 
 to be striven after, 2687 
 Way to, 1812 
 
 Holly-tree : its lessons, 3368 
 Holy Lives: their Influence, mo 
 Holy Spirit. Descent of the, 1813 
 His aid invoked, 956 
 His indwelling in the human soul, 1814 
 Litany to the, 1815 
 Offices of the, 1816 
 Power of the, 1817 
 Prayer to the, 1818—1820 
 Home. Affections of the, 1822 
 Bond of, 1215 
 Ceremonies of, 1823 
 
734 
 
 INDEX OF SUBJECTS . 
 
 Home; changed, 1824 
 Contented with, 1825 
 Dying at, 1826 
 essential to happiness, 1827 
 Ideal of, 1828 
 
 Joys of, 81, 906, 907, 1216, 1829, 265S 
 
 Love of, 1127, 1830 
 
 Man’s and Woman’s, 1831 
 
 Memory of, 1832 
 
 no home without love, 1833 
 
 Piety in the, 1834 
 
 Recollections of, 219 
 
 should be peaceful, 1835 
 
 Sorrow of, 1836 
 
 Sweet, 1837 
 
 The heavenly, 1780, 1781 
 Trifles of, 1838 
 undervalued, 3364 
 Wealth not essential to a, 1839 
 where it is found, 1736 
 Homes. English, 1840 
 Honest Man. The, 584, 841 
 Honesty : disliked, 3309 
 Frankness of, 1842 
 is prompt in its decisions, 1843 
 Majesty of, 1844 
 must never be surrendered, 1845 
 needs no concealment, 1846 
 Nobility of, 1847, 1848, 2396 
 Rewards of, 1849 
 Selling, 1850 
 Stability of, 1851 
 
 Honour [Fashionable code of right], 
 1852 
 
 [Moral rectitude], 1622, 1853 
 [Reputation, Glory], 1203, 1855 
 Honours: are burdens, 859, 861 
 Earthly, 1858 
 often ill-deserved, 862 
 Titular, 3357 
 Hope : and love, 1879 
 Argument from, 1973 
 Basis of, 1856 
 Beguiling, 1857 
 Bright, 1858 
 
 characteristic of youth, 3624, 3628, 
 3632 
 
 Characteristics of, 1859 
 Grace of, 1867 
 has no place in hell, 1793 
 Heavenly, 1868 
 Illusiveness of, 1869 
 in the aged, 121 
 in youth, 447 
 indestructible, 1870 
 Influence of, 1871 
 Inspiration of, 1872 
 its buoyancy, 427 
 its helpfulness, 14^8 
 its triumphs in death, 748 
 its wisdom, 429 
 Losing, 1873 
 ministers to health, 1874 
 must have an object, 1875 
 of immortality, 219 
 Origin of, 1876 
 our anchor, 1872, 1877 
 Paternal, 1878 
 Personification of, 1879 
 Philosophy of, 1880 
 Power of, 1881 
 Praise of, 1882 
 
 Preciousness of, 186 , 1872, 1883 
 Prophecies of, 1884 
 ruined, 1885 
 
 springs eternal in the human breast, 
 
 , I 432 , 1438 
 
 The Christian’s, i860, 1886 
 The Good Man’s, 1887 
 the medicine of the miserable, 1888 
 the spring of happiness, 1889 
 the stimulus to happy work, 3568 
 unconquerable, 1890 
 Hopes. Earthly, 1891 
 Man’s, 213 
 
 Host. The fashionable, 1224 
 Household. A Christian, 1894 
 Angels in the, 1893 
 Happiness of the, 1895 
 Howard. John, 2700 
 H uman Life, 1896 
 
 Human Nature: its possibilities, 1426 
 Human Souls: rarely revealed to each 
 other, 2055 
 
 Humanity. Brotherhood of, 1807 
 Cry of, 1898 
 
 Humble. Consolations for the, 1899 
 Safety of the, 1900 
 Humility. Affected, 1901 
 blessed of God, 2370, 2589 
 Blessings of, 1902 
 Caution respecting, 1903 
 Confident, 1904 
 Contrasted with pride, 1905 
 Demand for, 1906 
 Fable of, 1907 
 False, 1908 
 
 Fits us for service, 1909, 3054 
 Ideals of, 1910 
 Place of, 1911 
 Reward of, 1912 
 the eldest born of virtue, 1913 
 the root and foundation of virtue, 1914 
 Husband and Wife, 3502 
 Hymns. Influence of, 2527 
 Hymn-tunes. Scotch, 1220 
 Hypocrisy. Ceremonious, 1915 
 Common, 1916 
 depicted, 1917 
 deplored, 1918 
 invisible, 1919 
 Merit of, 1920 
 Profitless, 1921 
 Successful, 1922 
 The secret of, 167 
 unmasked, 2105 
 Hypocrite : accursed, 1923 
 detected, 1924 
 devices of the, 1925 
 Emblem of a, 1926 
 Fate of the, 1927 
 Simile of a, 192S 
 The world a, 1929 
 unmasked, 1930 
 
 Hypocrites: the serpents of society, 
 1931 
 
 Ideals. Use of, 2309 
 Idleness : destroy s the possibility of 
 fame, 1932 
 
 Destructiveness of, 2304 
 forbidden, 42 
 its penalties, 1126 
 Miseries of, 1933 
 renders men useless, 1934 
 results of, 1935 
 robs men of rest, 1936 
 shameful, 1937 
 
 sometimes falsely charged, 1938 
 unreasonable, 1939 
 Idolatry : common, 1940 
 Cruelties of, 1941 
 legend of the boy Abraham, 1942 
 Modern forms of, 1943 
 Overthrow of, 1944 
 Idols, 1945, 1946 
 Ignorance, 1947, 2040 
 Ignorant : not to be despised, 1002 
 Illness, 1948, 1949 
 Ills of Life, 1635, 1639 
 Ills. Philosophy of, T950 
 Illusiveness of life, 2227, 2230, 2259, 
 358x 
 
 Illustration. Habit of, 1951 
 Illustrations: their use, 1004 
 Imagination. See Fancy , 1222 
 Cheat of the, 1952 
 its powerlessness, 792, 1222 
 magnifies dangers, 1252 
 outruns reality, 1953 
 perverted, 1635 
 Pleasures of, 1954 
 Power of the, 1955 
 Support of, 1957 
 Tortures of the, 1958 
 unfits men for the realities of life, 1959 
 Imitation. Natural to man, i960 
 Immodesty, 1961 
 
 Immortality. See Soul. The. 3201 
 Argument for, 1962 
 asserted, 1963 
 Confidence in, 1964 
 
 Immortality : craving for, 160, 672, 683, 
 1966, 1969 
 Denial of, 1965 
 
 Effect of the hope of, 1250, 3426 
 emblem of, 445, 489 
 Hope of, 1967, 1974, 3625 
 how it is to be secured, 965 
 Inference of, 1968 
 Mystery of, 1970 
 Patrimojiy of, 1971 
 Progress in, 1972 
 Proofs of, 184 
 Reasons for, 1973 
 Transition of, 1975 
 Universal testimony to, 1976 
 Verdict of, 1977 
 Wonder of, 1978 
 Impatience, 1979, 1980 
 Imperfect instruments : capable of 
 noble use, 83 
 
 Impressions. Importance of first, 965 
 Imprisonment : ceases at death, 1981 
 Joyous, 1982 
 not to he feared, 1983 
 the common lot, 1984 
 Incarnation. The : 53, 461, 497, 1985 
 Incompleteness. Law of, 1986 
 Incomprehensible. Struggle for the, 
 1987 
 
 Inconstancy. Human, 1988 
 Independence, 1989, 2265 
 Indiscretion, 36 
 Indolence, 1990, 1991, 3137 
 Industry. Benefit of, 1992 
 essential to prosperity, 1993 
 Female, 1994 
 Incentives to, 1995 
 its rewards, 127, 1998 
 Motives for, 1996 
 Peace of, 1997 
 
 should not he excessive, 1999 
 Triumphs of, 2000, 2470 
 Works of, 2001 
 Inebriety, 2002 
 Infamy, 2003 
 Infancy. Death in, 2004 
 Infant. Gift of an, 2005 
 Infant-training often foolish, 167 
 Infants. Future life of, 2006 
 Mourning for, 2007 
 Infidelity. Guilt of, 2008 
 Influence of, 3401 
 nature of its tidings, 228 
 owl-like, 230 
 
 Infidels : idolaters of Chance, 228 
 Rebuke of, 2009 
 strangeness of their efforts, 185 
 thankless and short-sighted, 225 
 the Devil’s pioneers, 231 
 the enemies of man’s best hope, 231 
 their aim, 231 
 their credulity, 3400 
 their hatred to truth, 185 
 their idea of man, 228 
 their labours, 231 
 unworthy of trust, 2426 
 Influence. Double, 2010 
 Good, 2011 
 
 how it is to be obtained, 577 
 immortal, 2012 
 Lesson of, 2013 
 of a father, 1241 
 Perpetuity of, 2014 
 Posthumous, 2443 
 Power of, 2015 
 Responsibility of, 2016 
 Saintly, 2017 
 
 Unconscious, mo, 1112, 1318, 2018, 
 
 2302 
 
 Ingratitude : a mark of vicious nature, 
 2019 
 
 base, 2020 
 brutal, 2021 
 
 characteristic of the ambitious, 154 
 
 common, 2022 
 
 Filial, 444, 2023 
 
 Human, 2024 
 
 Monster of, 2025 
 
 Painfulness of, 2026 
 
 punished, 2027 
 
 the worst of crimes, 2028 
 
INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 
 
 735 
 
 Ingratitude: treason, 2029 
 Unkindness of, 2030 
 Inhumanity, 646, 3120 
 Injuries, 2031 
 Innocence, 2032 
 Inquiry. The spirit of, 647 
 Insanity, 2033, 2402 
 Insincerity. Worldly, 1227 
 Inspiration of the Bible, 3x1 
 Instinct, 2034, 2930 
 Instruction. Exemplary, 2035 
 of the young, 2036 
 Prayer for, 1503, 2037 
 Systematic, 2038 
 
 Integrity : commands esteem, 2461 
 Intellect. Council of the, 2039 
 Distribution of, 2040 
 Grades of, 2041 
 insufficient, 2461 
 not the chief excellence, 2040 
 Wealth of, 2042 
 
 Intemperance. See Abstinence, 13— 
 17 ; Drunkards and Drunkenness, 
 935—940 ; Inebriety, 2002 ; and 
 Wine, 3508—3510 
 Blight of, 2043 
 Curse of, 2044 
 Effects of, 2045 
 
 Intention. Retribution of, 2046 
 Intentions. Good, 30, 1557. 2 °47 
 Intercession. Christ’s, 2048 
 Legend of, 2049 
 Intercessory Prayer, 2821 
 Invalid. Hymn for an, 2050 
 Invention, 2051 
 Invitation. Christ’s, 2052 
 Death’s, 2053 
 Eashionable, 1227 
 Gracious, 2054 
 Irresolution, 2055 
 Isaac. Sacrifice of, 1248 
 Isolation. Human, 2056 
 Israel : a warning to us, 2079 
 Italy, 2057, 339 8 
 
 Jacob’s Ladder, 963, 2058, 2059 
 Jealousy, 2060 
 Jerusalem, 2061—2063 
 Jesting. See Wit, 3528—3535 
 in the pulpit, 2849 
 
 should never be profane or spiteful, 
 2064 
 
 unseemly in the aged, 109 
 J esus. Charity of, 2065 
 Cling to, 2066 
 God and Man, 2067 
 last and first, 2068 
 Mementos of, 2069 
 Name of, 2070 
 Need of, 2071 
 None like, 96 
 our sufficiency, 2072 
 Prayer to, 2073 
 Precious Name of, 2074 
 the joy of loving hearts, 2075 
 Touching, 2076 
 unchanged, 2077 
 Work of, 2078 
 
 Jews. Desolation of the, 2079 
 Fate of the, 2080 
 Honour of the, 2081 
 scattered, 2082 
 
 Journey of Life, 2286, 2287 
 Joy. Aids to, 2083 
 alloyed, 2084 
 Cause for, 2085 
 Departed, 2086 
 Expected, 1136 
 fleeting, 1681 
 Hours of, 2087 
 in Christ, 2088 
 in God, 2089 
 Mixture of, 2090 
 not a hindrance to duty, 857 
 of the new life, 320 
 springs from within, 2091 
 tiresome, 2092 
 
 to be found everywhere, 2093 
 transient, 2094 
 unutterable, 2095 
 Virtuous, 2096 
 
 Joys of Home, 1829 
 Judges, 2097 
 Judging. Rules for, 2098 
 Judgment (Discretion), 2x02 
 Judgment. Book of, 2099 
 Day of, 23, 2100, 3072 
 Delay of, 2101 
 forestalled, 2103 
 God’s prerogative, 403 
 of the crowd, 2104 
 Power of, 2105 
 Revelation of, 2106 
 Summons to the final, 2107 
 to be left to God, 2108 
 to be lenient, 402 
 Unavoidable, 2109 
 
 Judgments. How we form them, 413 
 to be made with diffidence, 403 
 Just. Courage of the, 2110 
 Death-bed of the, 676, 2111 
 Memory of the, 2112 
 Reward of the, 2113 
 Safety of the, 2114 
 to whom the title belongs, 2115 
 Wisdom of the, 2116 
 Justice. Course of, 2117 
 Delay of, 2118 
 Divine, 2119 
 
 for what purpose it should be dis¬ 
 pensed, 2120 
 Human, 2121 
 
 indispensable to nobility of character, 
 2122 
 
 its claims satisfied, 233 
 
 must be administered impartially, 2123 
 
 must be resolutely adhered to, 2124 
 
 must be tempered with mercy, 2125 
 
 None escape from, 2126 
 
 perverted, 1536 
 
 sacred, 2127 
 
 should be dispensed promptly, 2128 
 should be the especial care of kings, 
 2129 
 
 Triumph of, 2130 
 
 Kindness. Blessing of, 2x31 
 Demand for, 2132 
 Domestic, 2133 
 Duty of, 2134 
 Glory of, 2135 
 Law of, 2136 
 
 Power of, 1463, 2137, 2452 
 Retrospect of, 2138 
 Reward of, 2139 
 
 should be showed to the living, not re¬ 
 served for the dead, 2140 
 Kindnesses. Little, 2130 
 King. What makes a, 2577 
 Kingdom of God, 474 
 Kings. Adulation of, 2141 
 are but men, 2x42 
 are mortal, 682 
 are not to be envied, 2143 
 cursed by courtiers, 621, 2157 
 difference between kings and tyrants, 
 2144, 3399 
 Example of, 2145 
 Faults of, 2146 
 Influence of, 2147 
 Love of, 2148 
 Luxurious, 2149 
 not happy, 1694 
 Presence of, 2150 
 Rebellion against, 2151 
 Salvation offered to, 2152 
 should be eminent for virtue, 2153 
 should be merciful, 2458 
 should be careful to administer justice, 
 2128 
 
 should maintain their authority, 2154 
 should not delegate their power, 2155 
 should not grasp at power, 2156 
 Knaves, 2158 
 
 Knowledge. Advantage of, 2159 
 and wisdom, 2177 
 duty of imparting it, 2160 
 Fruitless, 2161 
 Ignorance of, 2162 
 imperfect, 1175, 2163 
 Increase of, 2164 
 increases sorrow, 2165 
 
 Knowledge. Love of, 2166 
 not attainable on earth, 2167 
 not necessarily beneficial, 1001 
 Prayer for, 1175, 1503 
 produces humility, 2169 
 should be sought for soberly, 2170 
 The highest, 3061 
 Thirst of, 2171 
 
 to what it would prompt us, 2172 
 True, 2173 
 Useful, 2174 
 
 vaster than the human mind, 1456, 
 
 2175 , • 
 vouchsafed to the innocent, 2x70 
 
 Knowledge of God : the portion of the 
 
 humble, 1513 
 
 Knowledge of the World, 2168 
 
 Labour. Benefit of, 2178 
 Burden of, 2179 
 Call to, 2180 
 Christian, 2181, 2695 
 Encouragement to, 2182 
 healthful and honourable, 3566 
 Lesson of, 2183 
 lightened by love, 2184 
 necessary, 2185 
 Rest from, 2x86 
 the lot of man, 2187, 3570 
 Lamentation : useless, 3537 
 Land. The better, 2188 
 Landowners : their covetousness, 622 
 Language, 2189 
 Laughter, 2063, 2190 
 Law. Cost of, 2191 
 The : its claims, 223 
 Laws, 2192 
 Laziness, 2193 
 Learning. A little, 1000 
 False, 2194 
 Indigested, 2195 
 is acquired slowly, 2196 
 its price, 2197 
 Much, 2198 
 necessary, 2199 
 Pretended, 2200 
 Pride of, 2201 
 Unused, 2202 
 Leisure, 1050, 2203, 2986 
 Lent. The true, 2204 
 Leper : cleansed by Christ, 469, 2075, 
 2205 
 
 Liberality, 362, 2878 
 Liberty : abused, 2206 
 Christian, 2207 
 consistent, 2208 
 Love of, 2210 
 of heart, 2211 
 of thought, 3323 
 sacred, 2212 
 
 should be jealously guarded, 2213 
 Show of, 2214 
 Spirit of, 2215 
 
 the glory of England, 1038, 2209 
 The soul’s, 1128 
 Value of, 2216 
 Licentiousness, 1092 
 Life : a book, 2217 
 a building, 37c 
 
 a burden to the distressed, 1626 
 
 a journey in the dark, 1440 
 
 a pilgrimage, 876, 2218 
 
 a play, 2876 
 
 A Rule for, 1083 
 
 a warfare, 613 
 
 Abuse of, 2219 
 
 Aims in, 42 
 
 always happy, 1171 
 
 an April day, 866 
 
 and Death, 2220 
 
 and Immortality brought to light by 
 the Gospel, 2221 
 apart from Christ, 476 
 arranged by God, 3355 
 Autumn of, 2222 
 Boundaries of, 2223 
 Brevity of, 24, 691, 1028, 2224, 2225 
 Caravan of, 2226 
 characterized, 2227 
 Clinging to, 1048 
 Consecrated, 1812 
 
736 
 
 INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 
 
 Life. Contentment with, 2228 
 Crises in, 2229 
 Days of, 2230 
 Decline of, 2231 
 Destinies of, 2232 
 devoted to Christ, 2233 
 earnest, 24, 2234 
 Ebbing away of, 681 
 Emblems of, 2235, 2358 
 ended in faith, 391 
 Epitome of, 2236 
 Eternal, 2237 
 full of care, 2238 
 glides away imperceptibly, 2239 
 Godly, 2240 
 Heaviness of, 1048 
 how it is made up, 2241 
 how it should be spent, 2242 
 how it is to be ennobled, 28, 30, 40 
 how it is to be estimated, 1126 
 how it should be used, 268 
 how its length is to be estimated, 2225, 
 
 3257 . 3338 , 3433 . 3612 _ 
 
 how strangely we cling to it, 2383 
 how to make life happy, 2243 
 Ignoble end of, 149 
 Importance of, 2244 
 Influence of temper on, 2245 
 is what we make it, 2246 
 Island of, 2247 
 its beginnings, 2248 
 its blessings slighted, 2249 
 its burdens, 374, 2250 
 its changes, 408, 409, 868, 1706, 1719, 
 
 333 1 . .... 
 
 its compensations and possibilities, 1191 
 its conflicts, 2678 
 its decay, 2251 
 
 its disappointments, 377, 999, 1617 
 its end, 1435 
 
 its illusiveness, 1088, 3078 
 
 its inequalities, 129 
 
 its labours, 2179 
 
 its limit fixed, 2252 
 
 its mysteries, 948, 1441 
 
 its prospects, 2253 
 
 its purpose, 22, 1026 
 
 its results, 2254 
 
 its reverses, 149 
 
 its stages, 3616 
 
 its vanity, 380 
 
 Length of, 2255 
 
 Love of, 28 
 
 loved, 2256 
 
 made up of little things, 2298 
 Measuring, 2257 
 Mental, 2258 
 
 Mistaken views of, 865, 1138 
 
 Mockery of, 2259 
 
 Motto for, 434, 945 
 
 need not be unprofitable, 1032 
 
 not a dream, 427, 1320 
 
 not the only time for learning, 24 
 
 One cause of failure in, 50 
 
 or death alike to the believer, 2260 
 
 Parable of, 2261 
 
 Parting with, 2262 
 
 Perfect, 1648, 2263 
 
 Periods of, 2264 
 
 Personal, 2265 
 
 Play of, 2266 
 
 Protracted, 2267 
 
 Providence in, 2268 
 
 Purpose in, 2269, 2270, 2406 
 
 Quiet, 2271 
 
 reasons for its prolongation, 2272 
 Retrospect of, 431, 863, 1117, 2273, 
 3 2 45 , 3342 , 3386 
 River of, 2274 
 
 Rules for the conduct of, 2275, 2276 
 Sadness of, 2277 
 Sameness of, 2278 
 Seasons of, 2279 
 
 should be a testimony for Christ, 49 
 
 Solemnity of, 1256 
 
 soon over, 2280 
 
 Stages of, 3511 
 
 The everlasting, 1766 
 
 The infidel’s idea of, 228 
 
 the sowing time, 40, 46 
 
 Theories of, 2281 
 
 Life. Time of, 2282 
 
 to be consecrated to God, 322 
 to be regarded as a whole, 2515 
 True, 42 
 
 True purpose in, 2404 
 uncertain, 25, 636, 982, 2283 
 Unity of, 2284 
 unsubstantial, 2285 
 up-hill, 2286 
 Use of, 2287 
 Value of, 2288 
 Varying estimates of, 876 
 Verge of, 2289 
 Voyage of, 1345, 1401 
 Way of, 2290 
 Web of, 2291 
 
 without hope of immortality, 228 
 Life’s Playthings, 168 
 Lifeless Souls, 506 
 Light, 2292 
 Litany. A, 2293 
 The soul’s, 2294 
 Litigation, 2191 
 
 Little Children: everywhere, 2295 
 Little Things. Doing, 2296 
 God seen in, 1493, 1494, 1514 
 Importance of, 3495 
 Influence of, 1335, 2013, 2030, 2297, 
 
 3373 — 3375 , 34 ° 4 , 34*4 
 not to be despised, 2298, 2299 
 Power of, 2300 
 Regard, 2301 
 Results of, 2302 
 tests, 2303 
 
 Lives. Aimless, 2304 
 Useless, 1132 
 Living to Christ, 2305 
 Living Waters, 2306 
 Loneliness : its lessons, 2307 
 Lonely. Comfort for the, 2308 
 Long Life : in what it consists, 110 
 Longing. Benefit of, 2309 
 Emblem of, 2310 
 Longings. Diverse, 2311 
 Looking to Jesus, 3412—3414 
 Lord’s Supper : an Evangel, 2315 
 Invitation to the, 2316 
 its symbols, 2317 
 
 our worthiness to partake of it, 2318 
 Prayer at the, 2319, 2320 
 the Communion of saints, 2321 
 the soul’s feast, 2322 
 Loss. Sudden, 867 
 Losses. Benefit of, 2323 
 Greatest, 2324 
 
 not always to be deplored, 1332 
 Lost. The living, 2325 
 Torments of the, 3435 
 Love. A Divine gift, 2326 
 A Mother’s, 1499, 2357 
 a snare, 49 
 at first sight, 83 
 built on beauty, 271 
 cannot be forced, 2327 
 Cause of, 2328 
 Charms of, 2329 
 Christ’s noblest gift, 2330 
 clothes its objects with loveworthiness, 
 
 2331 
 
 Course of true, 2332 
 Creative, 2333 
 delights to serve, 2334 
 Departed, 2335 
 Devoted, 2336 
 Effects of, 2337 
 God’s culture of, 2346 
 Growth of, 2347 
 
 hallows and perfects the humblest 
 service, 2348, 2349 
 Hopefulness of, 2350 
 how easily it is destroyed, 2408 
 immortal, 749 
 indestructible, 2351 
 insatiable, 2352 
 its ennobling influence, 2353 
 its impatience, 10 
 its pains, 2354 
 
 its power, 82, 1363, 2355, 2672, 2693 
 its reward, 2356 
 lightens labour, 2184 
 not to be slighted, 1036 
 
 Love. Offering of, 2361 
 of mankind, 2699 
 Prayer for, 2362 
 Redeeming, 2363 
 Ruling by, 1464 
 seeks love, 2364 
 shows itself, 2365 
 tested by poverty, 2786 
 the life of religion, 2717 
 the new commandment, 2366 
 the soul of virtue, 421 
 True, 2367 
 unbought, 2368 
 Well-founded, 2369 
 
 Love for Christ: earnestly desired, 
 2338 
 
 how it is to be shown, 2460 
 its feebleness deplored, 2339 
 Pure, 2340 
 
 Resolved, 2341, 2358, 2359 
 the Christian’s supreme motive, 2260 
 though we see Him not, 488 
 Love for God : a result of the love of 
 God, 2342 
 
 how it is learned, 2343 
 incompatible with love of self, 2344 
 Reasons for, 2345 
 
 Love of Christ : its characteristics, 
 476 
 
 our solace, 466 
 
 Love of life : in the aged, 122 
 Lowliness : blessed of God, 2370 
 the condition of happiness, 1692, 1693 
 Lowly. Consolations for the, 1899, 1900 
 The : shall be exalted, 1190 
 Luck, 1274 
 Luxury, 2371 
 
 Madness, 2033 
 
 Mammon. Corruption of, 2373 
 Enslavement of, 2374 
 Worship of, 2489 
 Man : a pilgrim, 677 
 A virtuous, 2372 
 according to the Bible, 313 
 all things serve him, 2381 
 an exile, 268 
 
 and Woman, contrasted, 1831 
 Bliss of, 2375 
 
 born to sorrow, 2089, 2277, 2515 
 complexity and depravity of his moral 
 nature, 1731 
 
 contrasts of his nature, 2376 
 decides his own destiny, 1085 
 dilatory, 2377 
 Distinctions of, 2378 
 easily pleased, 2379 
 Endowments of, 2380 
 Exaltation of, 2381 
 Folly of, 2382 
 
 folly of his concern about earthly 
 things, 979 
 
 formed for God’s praise, 858 
 Frailty of, 2383, 2384, 2399 
 frailty of his purposes, 1345 
 Greatness of, 2385 
 glory of his future, 2385 
 his dependence on God, 2899 
 his distinguishing excellence, 2386 
 his heedlessness of the greatest real¬ 
 ities, 2261 
 
 his history, 1360, 2389 
 his inability to guide himself, 821 
 his insignificance and folly, 2247 
 his liability to err, 1069, 1075, 1306, 
 3239 . 
 
 his longings, 999 
 his miseries, 2490, 2492 
 his need of woman, 3547 
 his original majesty, 48 
 his place in creation, 2387 
 his possibilities, 6, 1426, 1941, 2388, 
 2874, 3298 
 his two angels, 180 
 
 immortal, 184, 1962—1965, 1967—1978, 
 2390, 3201, 3426 
 inconstant, 1988, 2391 
 more than his work, 216 
 mortal, 982, 1589, 2392 
 not to be trusted, 2391 
 now in embryo, 1972 
 
INDEX OF SUBJECTS . 
 
 737 
 
 Man : perilousness of his position, 
 2261 
 
 Probation of, 2393, 2874 
 purpose of his being, 2381, 2394 
 responsible for his actions, 1370, 1372, 
 1374 
 
 Reverence for, 2395 
 self-deceived, 1074 
 
 stages of his life, 2227, 2264, 2266, 2279 
 Standard of, 2396 
 
 the contradictions of his nature, 1508 
 the great miracle, 2486 
 The infidel’s idea of, 228 
 The wise, 2397 
 the world’s high priest, 2788 
 The unjust, 2398 
 wonders of his being, 2400 
 Manhood. Cry of a wasted, 827 
 Emblem of, 2264 
 its possibilities, 2401 
 Maniac. Misfortune of the, 2402 
 Mankind. Foes of, 2403 
 Unity of, 366, 2404 
 Manners, 2405 
 Mariner. The first, 1082 
 Marriage. Age for, 2406 
 Cares of, 2407 
 Estrangement in, 2408 
 founded on esteem, 2409 
 Importance of, 2410 
 Joys of, 2411 
 Losses in, 24x2 
 Mistakes in, 2413 
 Need of forbearance in, 2414 
 Purity of, 2415 
 Tie of, 2416 
 
 Martha or Mary, 24x7 
 Martyr. Death of a, 2418 
 Martyrdom. Nobility of, 2419 
 Martyrs. Ashes of the, 2420 
 Christian, 2421 
 Faith of the, 1174 
 Influence of the, 2^22 
 secret of their triumphs, 2423 
 Seed of the, 2424 
 slain and crowned, 1803 
 Support of the, 2425 
 their victory, 2426 
 Mary : at the cross, 2427 
 Maternal Love, 2357 
 Meanness, 3485 
 Medals, 2428 
 Medicine, 2428, 2713 
 Meditation ; its profitableness, 585, 
 1141, 2430 
 
 the duty for evening, 1090, 1095 
 Meeting. Hope of, 2431 
 Prophecy of, 2432 
 
 Melancholy: a disease of the mind, 
 1144 
 
 Causes of, 2433 
 Cure of, 2434 
 Effects of, 2435 
 not always an evil, 2436 
 Memorial. The best, 2443 
 Memorials : of the departed, 798 
 Memories of Childhood, 2437 
 hi emory. A hell, 1792 
 Bells of, 2438 
 Function of, 2439 
 in hell, 2435 
 Joys of, 2440 
 Light of, 2441 
 of the departed, 799 
 of the heart, 2442 
 of the just, 2111 
 Perpetuation of, 2443 
 Pleasures of, 1691 
 quickened into exercise, 2444 
 Sorrows of, 2445 
 
 Men : how they are estimated by the 
 world, 1538 
 
 how they are to be conquered, 2446 
 how they are to be judged, 1618, 1622, 
 2779 
 
 how they are valued, 3601, 3604 
 how they disappoint us, 2446 
 made in the image of God, 2380 
 necessary to each other, 1794 
 not made greater by the place they 
 fill, 2461 
 
 Men : not to be judged by the place 
 they fill, 2462 
 often misplaced, 50 
 seldom contented, 2446 
 soon forgotten, 681 
 their equality, 170, 319, 2446 
 their power to help each other, 1417 
 thoughtless, 2779 
 
 Mercy : an attribute of God, 2447 
 Blessed, 2448 
 Duty of, 2449 
 Emblem of, 2450 
 Free, 2451. 
 its period limited, 635 
 Power of, 2452 
 rarely shown by men, 2453 
 refused to the cruel, 183 
 Rescue of, 2454 
 
 the best prerogative of power, 2455 
 the crown of justice, 2456 
 the mark of heaven, 2457 
 the ornament of power, 2458 
 Wisdom of, 2459 
 Works of, 2460 
 
 Mercy-Seat. Approach to the, 233 
 Merit. Attainment of, 2461 
 excites envy, 1052, 1060 
 Intrinsic, 2462 
 Modesty of, 2463 
 not unrewarded, 1604 
 Recognition of, 2464 
 Messiah. Reign of the. 2465 
 Military Heroism, 1805 
 Millennium. Vision of the, 2466 
 Milton, 2467 
 Mind : a tablet, 31 
 Contentment of, 2468 
 Freedom of, 2469 
 Greatness of, 1692 
 Hue of the, 2470 
 Index of, 2471 
 
 its influence on the body, 2472 
 its movements Divinely influenced, 
 1488 
 
 its power of adaptation, 2473 
 Kingdom of the, 2474, 3490 
 longs for fellowship, 2475 
 must be kept active, 44, 2258 
 overwrought, 2476 
 Spiritual, 2477 
 
 the seat of bliss or woe, 2478 
 Varieties in, 2040 
 Minister. An ambitious, 2479 
 Faithful, 2480 
 Honour of the, 2481 
 The model, 2845, 2852 
 The unfaithful, 2482 
 Ministerial: affectation, 77 
 Ministers. See Pastors, 2634—2636 
 greatness of their responsibility, 525 
 how they are fitted for the noblest 
 service, 1909 
 
 influence of their example, mi, 1113, 
 1114 
 
 should confine themselves to their 
 proper calling, 525 
 
 Ministry. Qualifications for the, 577 
 Miracle: at Nain, 2483 
 of Nature, 2484 
 
 Miracles. Attestation of, 2485 
 man the great miracle, 2486 
 not incredible, 1970 
 their use, 311 
 Mirth, 2063, 2487 
 Misanthropy, 2488 
 Miser : always wants more, 2374 
 Description of the, 2489, 3068 
 his misery, 251, 255, 259 
 Misery. Human, 2490 
 Melody of, 2491 
 Varieties of, 2403 
 
 Misfortune. See Calamity, 381 
 Friends in, 2493 
 how it is to be met, 1329 
 not always the result of vice, 2492 
 not to be anticipated, 191 
 seldom comes singly, 2492 
 usually the fruit of folly, 1324 
 Mission. Your, 2494 
 Our, 2272 
 
 Missionaries, 2495 
 
 Missions. Demand for, 2496 
 Mistakes: pardoned, 1904 
 should be acknowledged. 1076 
 should be speedily rectified, 1070 
 their cause, 2660 
 Mon. 'lhe, 2497, 2686 
 Moderate Drinking, 13 
 Moderation, 1123, 1124, 1146 
 Modesty, 2498 
 
 Moments. Importance of, 2856, 3345 
 Money. See Gold, 1530—1538; and 
 Wealth, 3484—3490 
 does not secure happiness, 1695 
 Powerlessness of, 3487 
 powerless to bribe death, 758 
 to be used as a servant, 3490 
 Monitor. The faithful, 1260 
 Moral Nobleness, 1x20 
 Progress, 411 
 
 Morning. Duties of, 2499 
 Prayer, 658, 2500, 2501 
 Psalm, 2502 
 Mortality, 2503 
 Mortifications in Life, 863 
 Mosaic Law: its symbolisms, 233 
 Moses. Burial of, 2504 
 Mother : importance of her charge, 
 2508 
 
 Influence of a. 2509 
 Office of a, 2510 
 Mother’s Bible. A, 312 
 Death-bed. A, 84 
 Epitaph. A, 2505 
 Love. A, 79, 80, 2506 
 Prayer. Answer to a, 2868 
 Teaching. A, 2507 
 Mothers : their influence, 3543, 3547 
 Motives. Obscure, 403 
 
 not easily judged, 2097, 2101, 2511 
 Mountain Scenery, 2512 
 Mountebanks. Saintly, 1317 
 Mourners, 86, 2513 
 Mourning. See Weeping, 3493 
 Christian, 2514 
 Heritage of, 2515 
 inevitable, 2516 
 needless, 2517 
 Occasion of, 2518 
 True, 2519 
 Unreasonable, 1640 
 Murder, 2520, 2521 
 Murderer. Imagination of the, 2522 
 Murmuring : a trial of Divine patience, 
 546 
 
 Proneness to, 2523 
 rebuked, 2524 
 unwise, 549 
 
 Music : a gift of God, 2525 
 Abuse of, 2526 
 Associations of, 2527 
 Consecrated, 2528 
 Effects of, 2529 
 Lack of taste for, 2530 
 Love of, 2531 
 Power of, 2532 
 Purpose of, 2533 
 resembles poetry, 2534 
 Mutation, 2535, 2536 
 Mystery. Cause of, 2537 
 of redemption, 2939 
 Solution of, 2538 
 Veil of, 2539 
 
 Mysteries: not to be rejected, 1970 
 of life, 2232 
 of life and death, 2668 
 of providence, 1987, 2903, 2904, 3511 
 
 Name. Ambition to immortalize our, 
 2540 
 
 Giving a, 2541 
 Power of a, 2542 
 The New, 2543 
 Names. Influence of, 3393 
 National Greatness: on what it de¬ 
 pends, 3222, 3445 
 Nations. Fate of, 2544 
 Nature : a revelation of God, 2545 
 and art, 2546 
 Changeless, 2547 
 Changes in, 1968 
 Christian’s delight in, 254S 
 
 47 
 
738 
 
 INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 
 
 Nature. Compensations in, 2549 
 Discoveries in, 2550 
 Following, 2551 
 God in, 2552 
 God seen in, 1526 
 God the soul of, 1519 
 God’s cathedral, 627 
 impartial, 2553 
 Influence of, 2554 
 is Divine art, 2555 
 
 its beauties and glories are of God, 
 . *493 
 
 its loveliness, 285 
 
 its teachings, 392, 1302, 1303, 1489, 
 1496, 2563 
 
 its testimony to a Creator, 781 
 Love of, 2556 
 Miracle of, 2484 
 neglected, 3591 
 
 never purposeless in her gifts, 2557 
 Nothing vile in, 2558 
 Perfectness of, 2559 
 Song of, 2560 
 Study of, 2561 
 Suggestions of, 2477, 2503 
 Sympathies with, 2562 
 Temple of, 2564 
 typical of Christ, 485 
 Wonders of, 2705 
 Necessity, 2565, 3393 
 Neglect. Evil of, 2605 
 Penalty of, 2566 
 The sinner’s, 2567 
 Neighbour. Definition of, 2568 
 New Year. Uncertainty of the, 2569 
 New Year’s Thanksgiving, 2570 
 Niggardliness, 3228 
 Night. Beauty of, 1762 
 Charms of, 2571 
 its lessons, 224 
 Moral of, 2572 
 None in heaven, 1776 
 Temple of, 2573 
 Uses of the, 2574 
 No Room for Jesus, 2575 
 Nobility: consists in goodness, 1562 
 has its springs within us, 1122 
 not a thing of the past, 451 
 not an accident of birth, 2576 
 True, 169, 319, 1796—1804, 2577 
 Noise : not a sign of importance, 3089 
 Novels. Nature of, 2578 
 Reading, 3263 
 Vicious, 2579 
 Novelty, 2580 
 
 Oaths, 2581, 2582 
 
 Obedience : better than sacrifice, 476 
 Perfect, 2583 
 
 the key of blessedness, 539 
 Oblivion. Emblem of, 2584 
 Obscure. Happiness of the, 2271 
 Obscurity: its pleasures, 2271 
 no hindrance to service, 3405 
 Observation. Points of, 2585 
 Obstacles : must be overcome, 32 
 Obstinacy, 2586 
 Ocean, 2587 
 Offences, 2588 
 Offering. A complete, 2589 
 Offerings. Acceptable, 450, 2590 
 Blemished, 3596 
 brought to Christ, 2591 
 Easter, 2592 
 Heathen, 2593 
 Love’s, 2361 
 Personal, 2594 
 Office, 2595 
 Office Seekers, 145 
 Old Age : accompaniments of, 103 
 Claims our reverence, 2596 
 Emblem of, 2264 
 Greed of, 249 
 Healthful, 3294 
 Irreligious, 2597 
 its hardships, 2231 
 its opportunity, 2598 
 not desirable, 2267 
 Secret of, 1126 
 Signs of, 2599 
 Solitariness of, 2600 
 
 Olivet. Scene upon, 209 
 Omissions : their hurtfulness, 787 
 Omnipresence. Comfort of, 2601 
 Omniscience. Trust in, 2602 
 Oneness with Christ, 2603 
 Opinion,. 2604 
 Opportunities : lost, 2605 
 neglected, 3333, 3336, 3359, 3360 
 not to be neglected, 43, 2605 
 to be promptly seized, 41, 1333, 2605 
 to be waited for, 952 
 Oppression, 3117, 3398 
 Optimism. Christian, 2268 
 Oratory, 2606 
 
 Order. Argument from, 2607 
 Beauty of, 2608 
 Divine, 2609 
 Law of, 2610 
 Origin of Evil, 1987 
 Original Sin, 812 
 Ornament, 2611 
 Orthodoxy. Bigotted, 318 
 Ostentation : renders worship worth¬ 
 less, 855 
 
 Our Mission, 22 
 
 Pain. Christ our support in, 2049 
 Constant, 2612 
 Enduring, 89 
 its results, 870, 1098 
 not lightened by fellowship, 2612 
 short-lived, 2612 
 Vows made in, 2612 
 wearisome, 2612 
 Pains of Life, 2613 
 Painting, 2614 
 
 Palestine. Redemption of, 2615 
 Paradise : its beauty, 629 
 lies within us, 327 
 restored, 58 
 Traditions of, 2616 
 Pardon : easily spoken, 2458 
 needed every day, 1311 
 not to be despaired of, 2617 
 Prayer for, 553 >. 3 OI 5 
 Parental Affection, 1238, 2618 
 Hopes, 1878 
 
 Parents. Indulgent, 2619 
 their task, 1003 
 Tyrannic, 2620 
 Parting. Hope in, 1223 
 Pain of, 2621 
 
 Passion : destroys beauty, 274 
 may be consecrated, 850 
 The ruling, 2622 
 uncontrollable by man, 1097 
 Passions. Conquered, 2623 
 Governing the, 2624 
 Power of the, 2625 
 restrained, 2626 
 Slavery of, 2627 
 Slumbering, 2628 
 Strong,2629 
 Ungoverned, 2630 
 Youthful, 2631 
 
 Past : endures in its effects, 2632 
 how it is to be used, 2430 
 Meditation upon the, 2430, 2632 
 Mistakes as to the past, 2941 
 not to be idly regretted, 29, 2632 
 Progress in the, 2633 
 Recollections of the, 2632 
 Records of the, 776 
 Pastor. Lot of the, 2634 
 Village, 525 _ 
 
 Pastors. Faithful, 2635 
 Inconsistent, 2636 
 Path of Life, 20 
 Patience. Angel of, 2637—2639 
 Difficulty of exercising, 2640 
 enjoined, 1029, 1034, 1979, 2641, 2643, 
 3252, 333 1 
 Example of, 2642 
 Help to, 2644 
 in affliction, 86 
 in bereavement, 299 
 Lessons of, 2645 
 Reasons for, 2647 
 Reward of, 2646 
 Success of, 2648 
 True, 2649 
 
 Patience. Value of, 2650 
 Victory of, 2651 
 
 Patient Love. Christ’s example of, 
 
 2652 
 
 Patriotism. Duty of, 3223 
 Innate, 2653 
 Lack of, 2654 
 Maxim of, 2655 
 Sacrifices of, 2656 
 Shrine of, 2657 
 True, 1798 
 Universal, 2658 
 Patriots, 2419, 2659 
 Pattern. Neglecting the, 2660 
 Pauper. Death of a, 2661 
 Funeral of a, 2662 
 Peace : at the birth of Christ, 2663 
 Blessings of, 2664 
 Christ’s, 2665 
 Christ’s bequest of, 2666 
 comes only from Christ, 2667, 2668 
 Divine, 2669 
 Glory of, 2670 
 
 how it is to be secured, 4, 5, 2312— 
 2314 
 
 in death, 2671 
 its only source, 2273 
 Love and, 2672 
 Millennial, 2465 
 of the Christian, 496 
 of the pardoned sinner, 1303 
 Perfect, 2673, 2674 
 Prayer for, 2675, 2828 
 Prophecies of, 2676 
 Settled, 2677 
 
 the reward of resignation, 3258 
 the reward of virtue, 3439 
 The secret of, 1257 
 undervalued, 2678 
 Waiting for, 2679 
 won by prayer, 2816 
 
 Peace and Joy : how they are obtained, 
 
 2680 • 
 
 Peasants, 2681 
 
 Pedigree. Boasting of, 169, 170 
 Pen : its power, 243, 2682 
 
 shall supersede the sword, 524 
 Penitence : acceptable to God, 605 
 exemplified, 2683 
 Late, 6or 
 Prayer for, 2684 
 Tears of, 2685, 3239 
 Pentecost. Day of, 1813, 1817 
 People. The, 2686 
 Perfect through sufferings, 65 
 Perfection. Degree of, 2687 
 Natural, 2688 
 not to be found, 2689 
 Professions of, 2879 
 reached through suffering, 2690 
 slowly attained, 2691 
 the secret of its attainment, 2693 
 unexpectedly attained, 2692 
 Way of, 2693 
 
 Persecution. Effects of, 2419 
 the daughter of ignorance, 317 
 useless, 2694 
 
 Perseverance. Call to, 2695 
 Christian, 2696 
 necessary, 2697 
 Reward of, 2698 
 
 Pharisee and Publican. Prayer of 
 the, 2843, 2868 
 
 Pharisees : their pretended humility, 
 1901 
 
 Philanthropy, 2699, 2700 
 Philosophers, 2701 
 Philosophy: baffled, 1987, 2702 
 False, 2703 
 
 Incompleteness of, 2704 
 Instinctive, 2705 
 of the Bible, 313 
 Powerlessness of, 2706 
 Province of, 2707 
 Sweetness of, 2708 
 The Stoic, 2709 
 Toils of, 2710 
 Value of, 2711 
 Phrenology, 2712 
 Physic, 2713 
 Physicians, 2714 
 
INDEX OF SUBJECTS . 
 
 739 
 
 Physiogonomy, 2712 
 Piety. Importance of, 2715 
 Intelligence and, 2716 
 more than virtue, 2715 
 Peacefulness of true, 2715 
 Secret of, 2717 
 Womanly, 2718 
 Pilgrim. Song of the, 1158 
 Pilgrim’s Psalm. A, 2719 
 Pilgrims. Landing of the, 2721 
 of the night, 2720 
 
 Pitifulness : the choice of Ambrose, 
 
 2722 
 
 Pity : characteristic of the brave, 2723 
 for the fallen, 66 
 God’s, 2724 
 
 imperilled by prosperity, 2888 
 leads to love, 2723 
 Objects of, 2723 
 Power of, 2723 
 Sentimental, 3071 
 Sympathetic, 2723 
 
 Place : does not change character, 
 
 2725 
 
 the lowliest may be filled worthily, 
 
 2726 
 
 Places. Famous, 220 
 Players, 2727 
 Pleasure : after pain, 1542 
 Clog of, 2728 
 elusive, 2729 
 evanescent, 2730 
 Excess of, 2731 
 False, 2732 
 Influence of, 2733 
 its destructiveness, 1074 
 Lawless, 2734 
 not man’s chief end, 2735 
 Penalties of sinful, 2874 
 Power of, 2736 
 pursued by all, 1047, 2740 
 Sensuous, 2737 
 Source of, 2738 
 The sum of, 2739 
 to be indulged in carefully, 1097 
 Unexpected, 2741 
 
 Pleasures : dashed with pain, 978 
 Empty, 168 
 Price of, 2193 
 Violent, 790 
 Worldly, 131 
 
 Pluck : an element in luck, 1274 
 Poems : their influence, 3157 
 Poet. Admonition to the, 2742 
 Fate of the, 2743 
 Imagination of the 1955 
 Mission and need of the, 975 
 of the future, 369 
 Power of the, 2744 
 Prayer of a, 2745 
 Priesthood of the, 2746 
 Theme of the, 2747 
 oetry. Effect of, 2748 
 Instinct of, 2749 
 should be pure, 2750 
 Poets; are painters, 2751 
 ' Our obligations to the, 2752 
 . Praise of the, 2753 
 
 secret of their power, 2754 
 
 ( their mission, 3102 
 Who are, 2755 
 oliteness, 2405 
 OLITICIANS, 1150 
 olitics and Politicians, 2756 
 olytheism, 1746 
 
 oor : are often unjustly blamed, 2757 
 Christ’s representatives, 951, 2758 
 Duty of the, 2759 
 God’s care for the, 1297, 1299 
 how they are to be treated, 135, 290, 
 ] 2760, 2763 
 
 , may be happy, 1699 
 1 Prayers of the, 2761 
 Sacredness of the, 2662 
 seldom pitied, 2762 
 their deprivations, 2681 
 Poor in Spirit. The, 3031 
 Popularity ; dangerous, 2764 
 evanescent, 1198, 1200 
 foolishly sought after, 2764 
 Token of, 2764 
 
 Popularity : uncertain, 2391, 2764 
 unsubstantial, 1245 
 Position. Judging by, 2765 
 Possession : contrasted with hope, 1880 
 Law of, 2766 • 
 
 Possibilities. Our, 2246, 2401, 2494, 
 
 27 6 7 , 3°75 
 Unfulfilled, 2445 
 Possibility. Lost, 2768 
 Posthumous. Influence, 24, 40 
 Poverty ; a barrier to progress, 2769 
 a political danger, 2770 
 Burden of, 2771 
 Compensations of, 130, 1795 
 Contented, 2772 
 described, 129 
 ennobled, 2774 
 Fear of, 2775 
 Happiness with, 2776 
 Hardships of, 2777 
 Heritage of, 2778 
 Honourable, 2779 
 in the world’s view a crime, 1538 
 is often self-inflicted, 2780 
 its claims, 416 
 its influence, 521, 2773 
 lies in the mind, 2781 
 Love in, 2782 
 not an evil, 2783 
 repulsive, 129 
 Riches of, 2784 
 the soil of virtue, 2785 
 the test of virtue, 2786 
 Power : how it is to be used, 244 
 injurious, 146 
 intoxicates, 246 
 Misused, 3399 
 Moments of misused, 2787 
 should be calm, 2670 
 Practice, 775 
 Praise. Demand for, 2788 
 Diverse effects of, 535 
 Duty of, 2789 
 Foolish desire for. 2790 
 Life-long, 2791 
 Love of, 2792 
 
 not all of equal value, 2793 
 not to be our supreme desire, 2794 
 Preciousness of, 2795 
 Rules for the bestowment of, 2796 
 the stimulus of virtue, 2797 
 to be offered at all times, 2798 
 to Christ, 2799 
 True object of, 2800 
 varies, 2801 
 Venomous, 2802 
 Vulgar, 2803 
 Prayer. A, 2804, 2805 
 always answered, 2491 
 Angel of, 2048 
 Answer to, 2806, 2807 
 Answer to a mother’s, 2808 
 answered in God’s way, 594 
 Answers to, 2822 
 Best, 2809 
 Blessedness of, 453 
 Conflicts in, 611 
 Distractions in, 852, 2810 
 Divine help in, 2811 
 Evening, 1092—1094, 2812, 2813, 3129, 
 
 3397 
 
 Family,^1218, 1220 
 
 Fervent, 28x4 
 
 for salvation, 2293, 2294 
 
 Formal, 2815 
 
 Hour of, 2816 
 
 how it is answered, 2680 
 
 Humble, 2817 
 
 Hymn of, 2818 
 
 in active life, 2819 
 
 Influence of, 2017, 2820 
 
 Intercessory, 2048, 2821 
 
 is often mercifully rejected, 1138 
 
 is often unwise, 2822 
 
 its nature and blessedness, 2823 
 
 Joy in, 2824 
 
 Limit to, 2825 
 
 Morning, 2499—2502 
 
 must be accompanied by work, 3569 
 
 N ature of, 2826 
 
 Need of, 2826 
 
 Prayer : not useless, 2827 
 Objects of, 2828 
 Offensive, 2829 
 Offerings in, 2830 
 Perseverance in, 2831 
 Power of, 2702, 2832, 2855 
 Private, 526 
 Readiness for, 852 
 sanctifies daily toil, 126 
 Secret, 2833 
 Silent, 2834 
 Social, 3139 
 
 Submission in, 2814, 2824, 2835 
 Thanks for the rejection of, 2836 
 the key of heaven, 2837 
 Thoughtless, 2838 
 Unceasing, 2839 
 What is, 2840 
 
 why it is often left unanswered, 2841 
 Prayers. Folly of selfish, 2842 
 Thoughtless, 3327 
 Two, 2843 
 Unspoken, 2844 
 
 Preacher. Example of a, 2845 
 Lament of a, 2846 
 Learned, 2847 
 Respect for the, 2848 
 Sobriety of the, 2849 
 Preachers. A lesson for, 2360 
 A warning for, 2850 
 Encouragement for, 2443 
 their disappointments, 2851 
 Preaching. Eloquent, 2852 
 Evangelical, 2853 
 Inspired, 2854 
 Power of, 2855 
 Qualifications for, 577 
 Simple, 3281 
 
 Use of illustrations in, 1951 
 Precedents, 649—653, 1670 
 Precocity, 1004 
 Predestination, 1x92 
 Preferment, 3074 
 Prejudice, 1229 
 Premonitions, 2585 
 Present: and Future contrasted, 1437 
 its claims, 24 
 the best of life, 594 
 Value of the, 2856 
 
 Presentiments. Guidance by, 2857 
 Press. Influence of the, 2858 
 Perversions of the, 2859 
 Province of the, 2860 
 Pretentious Men, 1316 
 Pride. Absurdity of, 2861 
 at church, 515 
 Blindness of, 2862 
 Cause of, 2863 
 
 contrasted with humility, 1905 
 
 Criminal, 2864 
 
 defined, 2865 
 
 Folly of, 2446 
 
 in dress, 933 
 
 Kinds of, 2866 
 
 not in itself an evil, 2867 
 
 of wealth, 3487 
 
 Punishment of, 2868, 2869 
 
 The secret of, 167 
 
 universal, 2870 
 
 Use of, 2871 
 
 Priest. The only, 2872 
 Prison, 2873 
 
 Prisons: cannot confine the soul, 1982 
 Privacy : its pleasures, 2995 
 Probation. Man’s, 2393, 2874 
 Procrastination. See Delay, 782— 
 789 _ 
 
 a deceiver, 2875 
 Commonness of, 2377 
 Evils of, 991 
 Habit of, 2877 
 its dangers, 373 
 its destructiveness, 3605 
 its folly, 123, 2876 
 Sin of, 2051 
 
 to be shunned, 3333, 3345, 3359 . 33 ^° 
 Prodigality, 2878 
 Profession. Perverse, 2879 
 Professors. Worldly, 3593 
 I Progress. Day of, 2880 
 I in the past, 1360 
 
740 
 
 Progress. Omens of. 2881 
 through seeming failure, 1360 
 Progression. Pythagorean, 2882 
 Projects, 1326 
 Promises, 2883 
 Promptitude, 2884 
 Proof, 2885 
 
 Prophets : of the past, 64 
 Proportion, 202, 2886 
 Prosperity : comes from God, 3457 
 dangerous, 2887 
 destructive of piety, 2888 
 Friendship and, 2889 
 its hardening influence, 3488 
 of bad men, 3441 
 often hurtful, 68 
 portentous, 2890 
 renders men unthankful, 67 
 should inspire caution, 2891 
 uncertain, 1336 
 why it is withheld, 2892 
 Protection. Divine, 2893 
 Providence : all-embracing, 407, 2269, 
 2232, 2894 
 
 all-wise, 195, 2895—2897, 3321 
 causes all things to work together for 
 good, 2298 
 Direction of, 2899 
 Diversities of, 2900 
 Divine, 2901 
 foolishly distrusted, 2902 
 governs our life for the best, 2268 
 in death, 732 
 
 its comprehensiveness, 837 
 its mysteries, 917, 2903, 2904 
 its unseen workings, 400 
 Mercifulness of, 2905 
 Mysteries of, 2523, 2537, 2538 
 overrules all things, 2906, 3046 
 righteousness and wisdom of all its ap¬ 
 pointments, 875 
 Shadows of, 1171 
 
 should be gratefully acknowledged, 
 2907 
 
 Tenderness of, 2908 
 Trust in. 821, 1705, 2647, 2874, 2909— 
 2911, 2946, 2967, 2968, 2970, 2971, 
 
 3355. 337 8 > 3379 
 watches over all, 1432, 1491 
 Providential Direction. Prayer for, 
 2912 
 
 Provocations. Small, 2913 
 Prudence, 886, 1008, 2914 
 Psalms of David, 657 
 Public Opinion, 2031 
 Pulpit. Power of the, 2915 
 Punishment. Inevitable, 2916 
 necessary, 2917 
 
 not to be administered vindictively, 
 2918 
 
 Purity, 425, 426, 1812, 2919 
 Purpose: in life, 2269, 2270 
 should be promptly carried into effect, 
 373, 2920 
 Unshaken, 2921 
 
 Purposes: disappointment, 842 
 Good, 1557 
 
 should be promptly performed, 789, 
 816 
 
 their value, 30, 817, 842 
 Unfulfilled, 1151, 3454 
 why frustrated, 863 
 
 Quarrels, 1395, 2922 
 
 Racer. The Christian, 128 
 Rage, 182 
 Raillery, 2923 
 Rain, 2924 
 
 Rank. Unreal distinctions of, 2936 
 Rashness, 2925 
 
 Rationalism. Uncertainty of, 2926 
 Readiness for Death, 733, 734 
 Reading, 2927 
 Reason. Audacity of, 2928 
 baffled, 1501, 1502, 2926 
 endangered by the affections, 85 
 Faith and, 2929 
 Folly of our trust in, 2382 
 Instinct and, 2930 
 insufficient, 2931 
 
 INDEX OF SUBJECTS . 
 
 Reason : intermittent, 2932 
 its conquests, 165 
 not to lie unused, 2933 
 Province of, 2934 
 Rebellion, 2935 
 
 Rebukes : how they are to be received, 
 1242 
 
 Reckoning. The final, 2254 
 Recognition of friends after death, 
 87, 299, 1782, 2431, 2432, 2936, 2991, 
 3209 
 
 Reconciliation. Duty of, 1389 
 Record. God’s, 2584 
 Recording Angels, 180 
 Red Sea. Song of Israel at the, 2937 
 Redemption. Condition of, 2938 
 Mystery of, 2939 
 Refiner of Silver. The, 90 
 Reform. Consistent, 2940 
 Course of, 2941 
 delayed, 2377 
 
 effected with difficulty, 1671, 2942 
 needs skill as well as zeal, 2943 
 Reformers. Errors of, 886 
 their sufferings and triumphs, 1803 
 their unpopularity, 3038, 3309 
 Refuge. The sinner’s, 2944 
 Regrets, 39 
 
 Rejoicing. Occasions for, 2945 
 Relaxation. Importance of, 2470, 
 2476, 2487 
 
 Religion : a source of peace and joy, 
 2946 
 
 banished from fashionable life, 1221, 
 1225 
 
 Growth in, 2947 
 her mission, 2948 
 in daily life, 2792, 2949 
 in the home, 1834, 1894 
 its blessedness, 1527, 3516 
 Plainness of, 2950 
 Rewards of, 3429 
 the best consoler, 580, 581 
 True, 2951 
 
 variously presented to the world, 2952 
 Religious Freedom, 2721 
 Remorse. Fruitless, 2953 
 Grounds of, 2954 
 Kinds of, 2955 
 
 most powerfully affects the noblest 
 minds, 567 
 
 Painfulness of, 569, 572, 2956 
 the tortures of the brave, 2957 
 Renown. See Fame, 1196—1213; and 
 Glory, 1478—1482 
 
 depends upon character, not upon 
 place, 2958 
 Ephemeral, 2959 
 not worth its cost, 1200 
 Repentance. Blessings of, 2960 
 Characteristics of true, 1231 
 Humility of, 2961 
 is more than regret, 2940 
 Late, 601, 2683—2685 
 limit to its power, 2962 
 mistakes as to its nature, 1231 
 Power of, 2963 
 
 Reproof : how it should be administered, 
 2405, 2964 
 Reports, 3013 
 
 Reputation : circumscribed, 1209 
 dear to all, 1555, 1556 
 more prized than life, 1202 
 of wisdom, 3523 
 Preciousness of, 2965 
 robs men of rest, 1210 
 soon lost, 2965 
 
 to be carefully guarded, 2965 
 Resignation. A call for, 2966 
 A Psalm of, 2967, 2968 
 Blessedness of, 1171, 2971, 3583 
 brings peace, 3258 
 Cause for, 2969 
 Cheerful, 3238 
 Christian, 2970 
 exemplified, 9 
 in affliction, 75, 89 
 in sorrow, 3178 
 Perfect, 20, 21, 2972 
 Prayers for, 2973—2975 
 Reasonableness of, 2976 
 
 Resignation. Reasons for, 2977, 2978 
 to God’s will, 3505 
 
 Resistance to Evil the Christian’s 
 Duty, 1035 
 
 Resolves. Fruitless, 2377 
 Good, 3452 
 
 Rest : given of God, 1096 
 Hymn of, 2979 
 Idleness is not, 2980 
 Longing for, 2973 
 of faith, 1156 
 
 only to be found in God, 2981 
 
 Praise for. 2982 
 
 the gift of Christ, 2983 
 
 the reward of the righteous, 2984 
 
 The soul’s, 2985 
 
 True, 2986 
 
 where it is to be found, 2987 
 Resting in God, 20 
 Restitution : essential to forgiveness, 
 I 3 I 5 
 
 Restlessness, 892, 893 
 Resurrection. Analogies of the, 2988 
 Argument for the, 1968 
 Emblem of the, 2989 
 Hope of the, 1131, 1588, 2992, 3024 
 its certainty, 2990 
 Lessons of Christ’s, 991 
 of Christ, 470, 472 
 of the body, 342, 374, 379 
 Recognition in the, 2991 
 Retirement. Causes of, 2993 
 Charms of, 2994 
 not necessary to a holy life, 903 
 Retribution. Fact of, 2995 
 Retrospect of Life, 2254, 2273, 
 
 3245 
 
 Reunion of Friends in Heaven, 1215, 
 1216, 1223, 1392, 1760, 1769, 1772, 
 1773, 1782, 1967, 1969, 2431, 2432, 
 2996, 2297, 2298 
 
 Revery is not Thought, 3320 
 Revelation. Need of a, 2563 
 Revenge : blind, 2999 
 Disgrace of, 3000 
 forbidden, 3412 
 recoils, 3001 
 Right of, 3002 
 scorned by the wise, 3003 
 Reverence. False, 650 
 Rhetorical Ornaments : worthless, 
 3207 
 
 Rich and Poor : contrasted, 1795 
 Rich Man : described, 129 
 Riches. See Wealth, 3484 
 a curse to the foolish, 3004 
 Happy use of, 291 
 have wings, 251 
 how they are won, 1340 
 not to be eagerly sought, 1146 
 taken from us at death, 3004 
 True, 3005 
 
 Ridicule. Answer to, 3006 
 Purpose of, 3007 
 Right. Doing, 3008 
 Vindication of, 3009 
 
 Righteous: contrasted with the wicked, 
 1527,1528 
 Death of the, 2984 
 River. Life a, 2290 
 of death, 759 
 of life, 2274 
 Rivers, 3010, 3334 
 ‘ Rock of Ages,’ 3011, 3012 
 Ruins, 188 
 
 Rulers: influence of their example,^ 
 
 1116 
 
 Rules for the conduct of Life, 2275, 1 
 2276 
 
 Rumour, 3013 
 
 Sabbath. See Srtitday, 3235, 3236 
 Bells, 3023 , 
 
 Figures of the, 30x4 
 Import of the, 30x5 
 
 its preciousness to the poor, 3016, 3017 
 Observance of the, 3018 
 on the sea, 3019 
 Rest of the, 3020 
 Stillness of the, 3021 
 Sabbaths. Threefold, 3022 
 
INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 
 
 74i 
 
 Sacrifice. Glory of, 3024 
 of Cain and Abel, 3595 
 The one, 645 
 
 Sacrifices for Freedom, 2422, 2426 
 Sadness of Life, 2277 
 Safety, 3025 _ . 
 
 Sailor. The Christian, 3026 
 Saint : a name of honour, 3027 
 Saints. Communion of, 3028 
 Our, 3029, 3030 
 
 their perfecting, 511 _ . 
 
 Saintliness : how it is to be attained, 
 2693 
 
 Saintship. Reward of, 3031 
 Salvation. Emblem of, 2306 
 from sin and self, 3032 
 Living waters of, 2306 
 neglected, 2567 
 Prayer for, 2293, 2294 
 The only, 3°33 , „ 
 
 within the reach of all men, 1182 
 Sameness : of life, 2277 
 unnatural, 408 
 Samson’s Complaint, 330 
 Sanctuary. Reverence in the, 505 
 Satan ; his fall, 140 
 Snares of, 3034 
 Satan’s Chapel, 507 
 Satiety. Byron’s, 3035 
 Emblem of, 3036 
 the penalty of surfeiting, 3037 
 Satire, 3038 . 
 
 Satisfaction : not to be attained on 
 earth, 3039 
 Scandal, 3013, 3040 
 Sceptic. Language of the, 186 
 Scepticism. Folly of, 1965 
 Sceptics. Cultivated, 228 
 
 how their conclusions should be pro¬ 
 claimed, 228 
 the Devil’s pioneers, 231 
 the enemies of man’s best hope, 231 
 their aim, 231 
 their labours, 231 
 their idol, 231 
 
 Scholarly Attainment, 167 
 Schoolmasters : importance of their 
 task, 1003 
 Scorn, 3041 
 Scotland, 3042 
 £>_RIPTURE. Quoting, 3043 
 Scriptures. Effects of the, 3044 
 inspired, 3045 
 must be searched, 315 
 their style, 311 
 Sea, 2587 
 
 Search for Truth, 216 
 Seasons. Hymn of the, 3046 
 of life, 2279 
 
 Regularity of, 1526, 1710 
 Second Coming of Christ, 54, 63, 
 , 1029 
 
 • Secresy : our safety, 3047 
 Secrets, 3048 
 
 . Sectarian Bigotry, 318 
 J Sects. Unity of the, 3049 
 Sedateness : in youth, 3631 
 Seduction, 3050 
 Seeing Jesus, 3051 
 Seeking Christ, 3052 
 , Self. King of, 3053 
 Self-abnegation, 3054 
 Self-approval, 1209 
 - Self-confidence, 808 
 
 * Self-conquest, 1801, 3055 
 Self-control, 3503, 3505 
 Self-deception, 119, 121, 3290 
 Self-defence, 3056 
 Self-delusion, 2382, 3507' 
 Self-denial. Gain of, 3058 
 Self-esteem, 3059, 3062 
 Self-examination, 661, 3060 
 Self-knowledge, 3061 
 Self-love, 2344, 3062, 3063 
 Self-sacrifice, 9, 3460 
 Selfishness : deplored, 3064 
 
 Evil of, 1399, 1416 
 frustrates our prayers, 2842. 
 insincerely condemned, 3065 
 its perverting influence, 3066 
 Pains of, 3067 
 
 Selfishness. Parsimonious, 3068 
 Reproof of, 3069 
 
 the sin that doth most easily beset us, 
 3 o6 3 
 
 Sense and Wit, 3534 
 Senses contrasted, 48 
 Sensibility, 3070, 3071 
 Separation. The final, 3072 
 Servants, 3073 
 
 Service. Acceptable, 1273, 2438, 2439, 
 
 3074 . • , , 
 
 by whom it is rendered, 332 
 
 Service. Christian. Activity in, 905 
 possible to all, 3705 
 the desire of the Christ-like soul, 
 3076 
 
 Sexton, 3077 
 
 Shadows. Fighting for, 406 
 symbolic, 3078 
 
 Shepherd’s Voice. The, 3079 
 Ships, 3080 
 
 Shipwreck. A lesson from, 3081 
 Sickness. See Illness, 1948, 1949 
 Benefits of, 2922 
 Vows in, 3082 
 
 Sight : the story of Bartimaeus, 3083 
 Silence. Divine, 3084 
 Joyful, 3085 
 
 our wisdom in times of suffering, 3086 
 Power of, 3087 
 True, 3088 
 Wise, 3089, 3222 
 Similes, 203, 3090 
 Sin : accounted a light thing, 3091 
 Beginning of, 1660, 3092 
 Destroys peace of conscience, 3093 
 differently estimated, 1666 
 Evil of, 3094 
 
 how easily it is committed, 49 
 its germs hid in the heart, 3095 
 its growth in the soul, 810, 8ti 
 its pleasures transient, 34, 3096 
 its wages, 233 
 
 liitlp sins tn he avoided. 1116 
 
 not expiated by fasting, 1231 
 Power of a besetting sin, 306 
 Progress in, 3097 
 Record of, 559 
 
 renders the death-bed terrible, 3098 
 Shamefulness of, 3099 
 should be destroyed in the germ, 1103 
 the act of the will, 3100 
 Universality of, 812 
 Sincerity, 3101 
 Singers, 3102 
 Sinner : his dreams, 920 
 Hope for the, 1257 
 invited to Christ, 991 
 Sinners. Appeals to, 2852 
 how will they die ? 1166 
 invited to Christ, 3103, 3104 
 Plea. The, 2868 
 Refuge. The, 2994 
 to be treated tenderly, 265 
 Sins ; deplored, 3015 
 Little, 3414, 3495 
 profitless, 3418, 3429, 3441 
 their effect on character, 3609 
 Tyranny of, 3420 
 Skull. The, 3106 
 Slander : deadly, 3107 
 despised, 3108 
 Methods of, 3109 
 not to be repeated, 1105 
 our common danger, 3110 
 Passion for, 31 n 
 Shamefulness of, 3112 
 Sinfulness of, 3113 
 Treatment of, 3114 
 Slanderer: his injuriousness, 1556 
 Slanderers, 3115 
 Slavery. British, 3116 
 Complicity in, 3117 
 debases, 3118 
 Excuses for, 3119 
 Inhumanity of, 3120 
 Misery of, 3121 
 Slaves, 3122 
 Sleep. Benefits of, 3123 
 cannot be commanded, 3124 
 Conditions of, 3125 
 
 Sleep. Gift of, 3126 
 Healthful, 3127 
 impartial, 3128 
 Meditation before, 3129 
 Quiet essential to, 3130 
 Recuperation of, 3131 
 releases from care and sorrow, 3132 
 should not be unduly prolonged, 3133 
 the image of death, 3134 
 the reward of labour, 3135 
 Troubled, 3136 
 
 Sloth. See Idleness , 1932—1939 ; and 
 Indolence . 1990, 1991 
 a living death, 3x37 
 described, 3137 
 destructive, 187 
 Evil of, 1724 
 its dangers, 55 
 its depressing influence, 6 
 its effects, 40 
 its penalties, 1x26 
 No time for, 42 
 Penalty of, 3193 
 Sluggard : admonished, 187 
 Smiles, 3138 
 Smoking Flax, 474 
 Snow : an emblem of mercy, 2450 
 Social Prayer, 3139 
 Society. Benefit of, 3140 
 Choosing, 3141 
 Effects of worldly, 314 2 
 Sodom. Destruction of, 3143 
 Soldiers. Great, 1805, 3144 
 Solitary. Christ’s sympathy with the, 
 3145 
 
 Solitude. Benefits of, 3146 
 Bitterness of, 826 
 delightful only to the Good, 3147 
 intensified, 799 
 its safety, 1115 
 Longing for, 3148 
 no real relief in sorrow, 3149 
 Painfulness of, 3150 
 Pleasures of, 3151 
 the nurse of woe, 3152 
 True, 3153 
 Uses of, 3154 
 Son. Training a, 3155 
 Song of the Crusaders, 3156 
 Song of the Ransomed, 3 
 Songs. Quieting, 3157 
 Sophistry: the ally of sin, 1074 
 Sorrow. Alleviations in, 3158 
 Benefits of, 2332, 3159 
 Christ’s school, 3160 
 Comfort in, 3161 
 concealed, 200, 201 
 consecrated, 3537 
 drives men to prayer, 3162 
 Effects of, 3163 
 
 God the only comforter in, 3164, 3165 
 Godly, 2685 
 Hidden, 1629, 1643 
 Hope in, 834 
 
 how it is to be borne, 3166 
 Imaginary, 3167 
 Inconsolable, 3168 
 Indulging, 3169 
 its cure, 40 
 Joy in, 3170 
 
 Ministry of hope in, 3171 
 Multiplied, 3172 
 must not be excessive, 301 
 never sent in vain, 3173 
 not to be anticipated, 3174 
 not to be cherished, 428 
 our lot, 614 
 Prayer in, 2675 
 prepares us for death, 3175 
 Relief from, 3176, 3 T 77 
 Resignation in, 3178 
 strengthens the soul, 877 
 teaches wisdom, 3179 
 the lot of all, 3180 _ 
 
 The only consolation in, 2067. 200a 
 
 the path to heaven, 869, 3181 
 
 The prayer of, 2834 
 
 turned into joy, 96 
 
 Uses of, 1633 
 
 Views of, 3182 
 
 wearisome, 3183 
 
742 
 
 Sorrows. Divinely sent, 3184 
 Great, 3185 * 
 
 how they are to be treated, 3186 
 
 c"^ r o c ,°” e s i- ngly > 3i87 > 3557 
 
 ooul. a bird of passage, 3197 
 a prisoner, 2873, 3x98 
 a stranger, 3 i 99 
 Aspirations of the, 214 
 Cost of a, 3188 
 Dissatisfaction of the, 3180 
 Efforts of the, 3190 
 finds rest only in God, 2891, 2985 
 finds satisfaction only in God, 2693 
 freedom of the, 3191 
 Ideas about the, 3192 
 immortal, 24, 1962—1965, 1967, 1968, 
 . 19781.2390, 3201, 3426 
 its destiny, 412 
 its longings, 2310 
 its secrets, 455 
 its thirst, 3315 
 its value, 129, 3204 
 Joys of the, 3x95 
 
 man’s distinguishing excellence, 2386 
 Mistakes of the, 3193 
 Mystery of the, 3194 
 secret of, 656 
 slumbering, 3202 
 Struggles of the, 3196 
 he departed, 3200 
 unconfinable, 1128 
 unknown, 3203 
 Sower. The, 3205 
 Sowing. Fruits of, 3206 
 Speculations, 2701 
 Speech. See Eloque?ice> ion, 1012 
 -Eloquence of, 3207 
 the expression of thought, 3273 
 Sphere of Duty, 3208 
 Spiritual Barrenness, 849 
 Spiritual Darkness, 656 
 Spiritual Life: its difficulties, 213 
 Joys of the, 320 
 Prayer for, 2342 
 Spiritual Pride, 2866 
 Spiritual Strength : its source, 2341 
 
 Spirits of the Just : their interest in 
 us, 979 
 
 their number, 177 
 Traits of, 3209 
 unseen, 1774 177 
 Splendour, 3210 
 Stage. Evils of the, 3313, 3314 
 Stars. Beauty of the, 2571 
 doomed, 3217 
 inhabited, 3218 
 Invocation to the, 3211 
 Mystery of the, 3212 
 not the abode of God, 3210 
 Order of the, 3213 
 Progress of the, 3214 
 Shining forth of the, 32x5 
 Suggestiveness of the, 3216 
 their number and splendour, 224 
 Uses of the, 3220 
 Watching the, 3221 
 State. Constituents of a, 3222 
 Duty of the, 3223 
 States ; easily destroyed, 3224 
 STATESMEN, 3225 
 
 Statues, 3226 
 Step by Step, 3227 
 Stinginess, 3228 
 Stoic Philosophy, 2709 
 STORM. Christ in the, 2665, 2677 
 Storms, 3229 
 Storms of Life, 3230 
 Strength. Growth of, 3231 
 Promise of, 3232 
 Studies. Trifling, 313 
 Study, 3233 
 Style, 3234, 3564 
 Submission. A psalm of, 323s 
 Base, 3236 
 Blessedness of, 3237 
 Christ’s example of, 1469 
 Declaration of, 3238 
 Entire, 3239 
 Example of, 3240 
 in bereavement, 302, 304 
 tested, 3241 
 
 INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 
 
 Submission : to the Divine Will, 71 80 
 _. *515. 3505 y ’ 
 
 Substitutton. Doctrine of, 233, 235 
 of Christ, 483 
 Suburban Villas, 523 
 Success : a poor test, 2097, 3448 
 cannot be commanded, 3242 
 how it is to be attained, 47, 2698 
 its influence on man, 154 
 not essential to happiness, 3243 
 
 ■Nothing succeeds like success,’ 1132 
 2698, 3244 0 ’ 
 
 on what it depends, 26 
 Price of, 2248 
 Unsatisfactory, 3245 
 Sudden Death, 742 
 Suffering: a blessing to others, 22 
 Appointment of, 3246 
 Fruits of, 3247 
 Ulory of, 1033 
 Influence of, 3248 
 Intense, 3249 
 Lesson for the, 3250 
 Perfect, 2690 
 Release from, 3251 
 Resignation to, 3241, 3246 
 to be courageously endured, 873, ni Q 
 to be patiently endured, 3252 
 Sufferings of Christ, 456 
 Suicide, 719, 3253 
 Sun, 3254 
 
 Sunday. See Sabbath, 3014, 3 o 2 x 
 Pre-eminence of the, 3255 
 Similes of, 3256 
 Superstition, 3257 
 Supper. The Lord’s, 2315-2322 
 Suretyship: to be shunned by fathers 
 1240 ' 
 
 Surfeiting : leads to satiety, 3037 
 Surrender. Entire, 3258 
 Suspense, 3259, 3341 
 Sympathy : a Divine gift, 2722 
 Beauty of, 3260 
 Christian, 1267, 1270 
 Effects of, 3261 
 God’s, 3262 
 Humbleness of, 3287 
 misdirected, 3263 
 Need of, 3264 
 of Christ, 473 
 Power of, 3265 
 refused, 1645 
 seldom found, 3266 
 Systems of Faith : transient, 1175 
 
 Tact. Importance of, 3267 
 Talents : apart from virtue, 3268 
 are intended to be used, 2337 
 Parable of, 3269 
 Respect for others’, 3270 
 rightly used, 3271 
 worthless if misused, 2461 
 Talk, 3272, 3274, 3275 
 1 ALKERS, 3273 
 Taste. Innate, 3276 
 Ieachek. Dignity of the, 3277 
 Encouragement for, 3278 
 The Village, 3279 
 Work of the, 3280 
 
 Teachers : importance of their task, 
 x°°3 
 
 Rules for, 1004 
 
 Teaching. Demand for, 3281 
 Simple, 3282 
 
 Tears : afford relief, 3283 
 and prayers, 2844 
 Beauty of, 3284 
 Common, 3285 
 feed our woe, 3286 
 Honourableness of, 3287 
 Joys from, 3288 
 Penitential, 2685, 3289 
 Self-deceiving, 3290 
 woman’s weapons, 3291 
 Temper. Bad, 267 
 Good, 1553, 3292 
 influenced by tbe weather, 807 
 its influence on life, 2245, 2246 
 Temperance. See A.bsti>ience , 13—17 ; 
 and IV we , 3508—3510 
 Chieftain of, 3293 
 
 Temperance. Death in the wine-cup 
 Importance of, 3037 
 its rewards, no, 3294 
 promotes health, 15 
 Work of, 3295 
 
 Building of the, 3296 
 Ihe first, 509 
 The spiritual, 51 x 
 
 Temptation ; comfort for the tempte 
 3297 
 
 Danger of, 3298 
 
 encouragement for the tempted, 34- 
 
 Help in, 3299 
 how it assails us, 1345 
 how it is to be overcome, 134 
 is not sin, 3300 
 may be resisted, 3301 
 must be resisted, 611, 770 
 Prayers for help in, 3302, 3303 
 Deductions o£ 890 
 should be promptly resisted, 3304 
 Subtlety of, 1001 
 the secret of its power, 3306 
 to be shunned, 133, 3305 
 Temptations : everywhere, 3034 
 in prayer, 2806, 2807 
 Small, 2303, 3374, 3414, 3498 
 i ne most dangerous, 3307 
 Iest. A general, 3308 
 Objections to a, 3309 
 Thankfulness. Unutterable, 2834 
 
 1 HANKLESS CHILDREN, 444 
 
 I hankless Men : in prosperity, 67 
 Thanklessness. Causes of, 3310— 
 3312 
 
 Evil of, 1298 
 
 Thanks : due to God, 1516, 1521 
 1 hanksgiving. New Year’s, 2570 
 Iheatre. The, 3313, 3314 
 Iheologian. Ihe bigoted, 318 
 Theories, 2281 
 Thirst. The soul’s, 3315 
 Thought : begins in feeling, 33x6 
 .Duration of, 3317 
 effect on conduct, 1244 
 expressed, 3318 
 feared, 3319 
 Independence of, 2265 
 is more than feeling, 3320 
 its value, 28 
 Painfulness of, 3321 
 Pleasure of, 3322 
 Privacy of, 3323 
 Profitableness of, 3324 
 the gift of God, 3325 
 Thoughtfulness : the duty of the a^ed 
 3326 
 
 Thoughtlessness. Evil of, 2588 
 in youth, 3632 
 Thoughts. Birth of, 3327 
 Great, 3327 
 
 Hurtfulness of idle, 1735 
 multitudinous, 3327 
 Pure, 3327 
 to be uttered, 3327 
 transient, 3327 
 Upright, 3327 
 Vain, 3327 
 
 I hreats : inefficacious, 2452 
 Thrift, 1137, 3328 
 time. Consolation of, 3320 
 depicted, 782 
 Effects of, 3331 
 ever changing, 3332 
 blight of, 42, 789, 3333, 3334—3337, 
 3607 
 
 how it is to be reckoned, 3338 
 
 Image of, 1224 
 
 its conquests, 2959, 3329 
 
 its consolations, 580 
 
 its influence limited, 3339 
 
 its influence on sorrow, 1637 
 
 King, 334.0 
 
 Lengthening, 3341 
 
 inis-spent, 660, 3342, 3627 
 
 not to be wasted, 11 
 
 Note of, 3343 
 
 Portrait of, 3344 
 
 Preciousness of , 2856, 3345 
 
 Revelation of, 3346 
 
 Riddle on, 3347 
 
INDEX OF SUBJECTS . 
 
 743 
 
 Time : the great arbitrator, 3348 
 Thieves of, 3349 
 to be redeemed, 30 
 Triumph over, 3350 
 
 Use of, 3351. 
 
 variously estimated, 1050 
 Web of, 335 2 
 What is, 3353 
 Work of, 3354 
 Times. Our, 3355 
 Slandering the, 3356 
 Titles, 319, 3357 
 To-day. Crisis of, 3358 
 To-morrow, 3359 
 too late, 3360 
 
 Toil : may be a blessing, 1529 
 our present portion, 22 
 Tradesmen. Faults of, 523 
 Traditions, 3361 
 
 Traducers : how to treat them, 3114 
 Translations, 3362 
 Travel, 3363, 3364 
 Travellers, 3365 
 
 Treason, 3366 0 
 
 Treasures : not valued till lost, 730 
 Treaties, 3367 
 Trees, 3368 
 
 Trials. See Adversity , 64—76 ; Afflic¬ 
 tion, 86—99; Calamity, 381; Sor¬ 
 row, 3158—3187; and Troubles, 
 
 337 6 > 3377 
 Benefit of, 94, 33 6 9 
 blessings in disguise, 1332 
 how they should be met, 1320 
 Importance of, 3494 
 not the whole of life, 3370 
 Prayer in view of, 3371 
 reveal character, 1329 
 sent in mercy, 95 
 their purpose, 65, 68 
 - Triflers, 3372 
 
 Trifles. See Little Things, 2296—2303 
 Conquest of, 3373 
 not to be despised, 3296—2303 
 not unimportant, 3375 
 often decide destiny, 1335 
 their influence, 371, 3374. 34 ° 4 » 34 x 4 
 Trinity. Doctrine of the, 1501 
 Trouble. See Adversity, 64—76 ; 
 Affliction, 86—99 ; Calamity, 381; 
 Sorrow, 3158—3187; and Trials, 
 3369—3371 
 
 Man born to, 2382, 2384, 2389, 2399, 
 24°3 
 
 often sent as a boon, 2680 
 Troubles : left behind, 644 
 never come singly, 3537 
 not to be nursed, 428 
 v/ill soon be over, 3376, 3377 
 Trust : begets trustworthiness, 1422 
 Filial, 3378 
 in Christ, 454, 3081 
 in God, 87, 586, 2275, 2719 
 our duty in times of danger, 1258 
 Supporting, 3379 
 Truth : and Beauty, 216, 272 
 apparent to all, 7 
 Calmness of, 3380 
 Changeless, 3381 
 Controversies about, 3382 
 Disclosures of, 3383 
 Fidelity to, 1803, 2882, 3384 
 frequently injured by its friends, 886 
 Grace of, 3385 
 Guidance of, 3386 
 imperishable, 3387 
 must be sought earnestly, 3388 
 must be spoken wisely, 3389 
 not loved for its own sake, 3390 
 Pearl of, 962 
 
 Penalty of the rejection of, 3391 
 
 Price of, 3392 
 
 Progress of, 1071, 3393 
 
 the supreme excellence of character, 
 
 3394 
 
 unconquerable, 3395 
 Vastness of, 1000 
 Witnessing for, 3396 
 Twilight, 3397 
 
 Tyndall: on the name of God, 1522 
 Tyranny, 3398 
 
 Tyrants, 3399 
 
 Unbelief. Credulity of, 3400 
 Influence of, 3401 
 Unconscious Influence, 1378, 2018, 
 2302, 2305 
 
 Unfortunate: are not always to be 
 blamed, 2097 
 
 Unhappiness. Cause of, 2678 
 The world’s, 3402 
 Union. Christian, 1267 
 Fable of, 3403 
 
 Universal Restitution. Tennyson 
 on, 1540 
 
 Unkindness, 3064, 3404 
 Unknown Apostles, 3405 
 Unrealised Possibilities, 3445 
 Unselfishness, 152 
 Unworthiness. Confession of, 3407 
 Usefulness : possible to the aged, 124 
 to be aimed at, 42 
 Usurpers, 3406 
 
 Vain Thoughts, 3327 
 Valour, 612—620, 3408 
 Vanity : a universal weakness, 3409 
 Female, 1230 
 Life’s, 3410 
 Variety, 3411 
 
 Vengeance : belongs to God, 3002, 3412 
 Example of 3413 
 Vice. Beginning of, 3414 
 Familiarity with, 3415 
 Fascination of, 3416 
 Infamy of, 3417 
 profitless, 3418 
 Punishment of, 3419 
 triumphant, 226 
 Tyranny of, 3420 
 
 Vices : how they are to be overcome, 
 440 
 
 Vicissitude, 3421 
 Victory, 30, 3422 _ 
 
 Violence: self-exhaustive, 1124, 1146 
 Virgins. The foolish, 783 
 Virtue : a reality, 3424 
 a riddle, 3425 
 acceptable to God, 3423 
 an imperishable treasure, 3322 
 and piety, 2715 
 Authority of, 3426 
 Beauty of, 1559 
 Courage of, 3427 
 dignifies every place, 777 
 Discipline of, 3429 
 enduring, 2461 
 Fancied, 791 
 
 Free-will essential to, 1366 
 Glory of, 1482 
 Happiness of, 1687, 1708 
 immortal, 3430 
 in distress, 226 
 Influence of, 30, 3431 
 invincible, 3432 
 its own reward, 34, 4 X 7 
 lengthens life, 3433 . 
 
 loved by many merely for its rewards, 
 
 3434 
 
 Memory of, 3435 
 misapplied, 3436 _ . 
 
 must be displayed in active life, 3437 
 Nobility of, 3438 
 Peace of, 3439 
 Pretended, 3440 
 
 Rewards of, 1973, 2112, 2113, 344 G 
 3602 
 
 Safety of, 3442 
 scorned, 3443 
 tempted, 3444 
 
 tested, 87, 2786 . 
 
 the basis of national prosperity and 
 
 glory, 3445 
 
 the only source of joy, 2095 
 world-wide, 3446 
 Virtues, 3447 
 Virtuous Ends, 3448 
 Virtuous Impulses, 3449 
 Vishnu. Incarnation of, 200 
 Voice. The Shepherd s, 3450 
 Woman’s, 3451 
 Vows : broken, 944 
 
 Vows : in sickness, 3082 
 Making, 3452 
 Voyage. The Last, 3453 
 
 Waiting. See Suspense, 3258 
 enforced, 3454 
 how God waits, 3455 
 is service, 3456 
 Working and, 3457 
 Wants : continually supplied, 1299 
 Duplicity of, 3458 
 Human, 3459 
 War. Benefit of, 3460 
 Causes of, 3461 
 Clamour for, 3462 
 Cruelty of, 3463 
 Debasing influence of, 3465 
 Defensive, 3465 
 Desolation of, 3466 
 Hatefulness of, 3467 
 Horrors of, 3468 
 Irreligiousness of, 3469 
 is murder, 3470 
 its shamefulness, 884 
 necessary, 3471 
 Picture of, 3472 
 Scourge of, 3473 
 shall end, 2676 
 Shamefulness of, 3474 
 The end of, 2465, 2466 
 Tug of, 3475 
 Tumult of, 3476 
 Warfare. Angelic, 177 
 Warriors, 3477 
 Wars. Christian, 3478 
 Rash, 3479 
 
 Watchfulness. A call to, 1294 
 and prayer. Need for, 1665 
 Duty of, 3480 
 its necessity, 55, 3481 
 Waters. Living, 2306 
 Weak. Comfort for the, 3482 
 Weakness : no excuse for idleness, 3483 
 Wealth. See Riches , 2004 
 diffused, 3484 
 
 does not confer greatness, 3485 
 does not secure happiness, 590, 592, 
 3210, 3486 
 Drawbacks of, 1795 
 Folly of pride in, 3404, 3487 
 for what purpose it should be sought, 
 
 *339 . „ r 00 
 
 Hardening influence 01, 3488 
 
 Household, 3489 
 Ill-gotten, 1331, 1449 
 Independence of, 3490 
 its dangers, 257 
 
 must not be gotten hastily, 114O 
 powerless to bribe death, 758 
 Worship of, 1538 
 
 Weary. Encouragement for the, 3491 
 Invitation to the, 3492 
 Weeping, 3493 
 Wickedness, 3494, 3495 
 Widow. The, 3493 
 Widow’s Gift. The, 3496 
 Wife. A bad, 3497 
 A good, 3498 
 Admonition to a, 3499 
 Duty of a, 3500 
 Emblem of a good, 3501 
 Husband and, 3502 
 Influence of a, 3503 
 Value of a, 3504 
 
 Will: determines the quality of oui 
 actions, 36 
 Sacrifice of the, 3505 
 the ruling faculty, 3506 
 Willingness with Power, 3507 
 Wine. Curse of, 3508 
 Effects of, 3509 
 Use of, 3510 
 
 Winter. Analogy of, 3511 
 Lessons of, 3512 
 Wisdom. Christian, 3513 
 comes late in life, 3514 
 Desires of, 3515 
 Excellence of, 3516 
 in what it consists, 3517 
 Independence of, 35x8 
 Legend of, 3519 
 
744 
 
 INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 
 
 Wisdom : more than knowledge, 2177 
 must be sought, 3520 
 of Providence, 3421 
 Power of, 3522 
 Reputation of, 332a 
 Rules for, 3524 
 supplanted, 3525 
 Sympathetic, 3526 
 Wise Man. The, 2397 
 Wishes. See Desire , 817—823 
 Good, 3454 
 Idle, 3527 
 
 must be controlled, 1007 
 Wit. Christian, 3528 
 Danger of, 3529 
 defined, 3530 
 everlasting, 3531 
 -Hurtful, 3532 
 
 not destroyed by religion, 2716 
 Penalties of, 3533 
 Religious, 2716 
 Sense and, 3534 
 Striving after, 3535 
 Witches, 3536 
 
 Witnesses. The cloud of, 707 
 
 Woe, 3537 
 
 Woman. Comparisons of, 3538 
 different from man, 343n 
 Fidelity of, 3540 
 her grief, 354 i 
 her mission, 3542 
 her power, 3543, 355I 
 her rights, 3544 
 her vengeance, 3545 
 Kindness of, 3546 
 Man s need of, 3547 
 not inferior to man, 3548 
 of fashion, 1230 
 often wronged, 3549 
 Picture of a religious, 27x8 
 Pope on, 3550 
 Record of, 3552 
 the best of God’s works, 3553 
 the purpose of her being, 1733, oca 
 T.nie reasons for loving, 3553 
 
 Woman’s Voice, 345 i 5 
 
 Women. Diversions for, 3556 
 Pictures of wise and good, 3557 
 
 W 2*L DS : can never be recalled, 3558 
 Effect of, 3559 
 Rloquent, 3560 
 expressions of thought, 3561 
 Kind, 3562 
 
 powerless to console, 1631, 1632, 1643 
 Preciousness of, 415 
 reveal character, 3563 
 
 U» r o?,°3564 '“ 6 ’ 2 ‘ 3 °- 33731 3375 
 Weakness of, 3565 
 Work. See Labour, 2178, 2187 
 a blessing, 1529 
 
 W 2^ K i- . Blessedness of, 3566 
 Christian, 2481, 2494 2695—3567 
 Hopeless, 3568 J ' 
 
 its rewards, 47 
 Moderation in, 45 
 necessary as well as prayer, 3369 
 universal, 3570 y 
 
 Workers. Encouragement for Chris- 
 tian » 349C 3570 
 Works of God, 980, 1526 
 
 ° RLD /3 3 J eetm S show, 771, 2536, 
 
 3336, 3587 a " ’ M ’ 
 
 a masquerade, 3572 
 a stage, 2226, 2227, 2266 
 accursed, 3573 
 Beauty of the, 3574 
 Different views of the, 3573 
 Dying view of the, 97 o 
 false confidence of the, 3376 
 Favour of the, 3577 
 Freedom for the, 3378 
 full of peril, 3379 
 hollow, 358^ 79 
 
 illusory, 3581 
 its enchantments, 889, 971 
 its friendship, 1406 
 its future, 1346 
 its pleasures, 770, 771, 1778 
 its powerlessness to satisfy, 3035, 3039 
 its unhappiness, 3402 
 its vanity, 866, 2285, 3589 
 neither to be teared nor loved, 3382 
 Picture of the, 148 
 Perils of contact with the, 1113 
 Power of the, 3583 
 Question about the, 3384 
 Quitting the, 3583 
 Sale of the, 3586 * 
 
 Secrd of its progress, 948 
 shall pass away, 767 
 The enticing, 3587 
 treacherous, 3588 
 vanity of its gifts, 3410 
 Youth of the, 3590 
 Worldliness. Evil of, 2373 
 Influence of, 3591 I 
 
 in the aged, 113 
 
 Worldling. Contrasted with the Chris¬ 
 tian, 1444, i 445 
 Death of the, 648 
 Lament of the, 3592 
 seeks peace in vain, 3492 
 ' 0I gg DLINGS ’ ^eir fancied security, 
 
 Ways of, 3593 
 
 Worldly Greatness. End of, 148 
 Worlds. Other, 3218, 3594 
 Worship. Acceptable, 3395 
 by proxy, 513 
 family, 1218—1220 
 in what spirit it is to be offered, 3596 
 
 Worship : its object, 854 
 or service : which is best? 2417 
 Places of, 3597 ' 
 
 Prayer for acceptance of, 3398 
 Rejected, 3599 
 Reverence in, 505 
 True, 3600 
 
 Worth. Hidden, 521 
 how it is to be measured, 3601 
 Joy in, 3602 
 Men of, 3603 
 wins esteem, 3604 
 Wrangling, 765 
 Wrath. Victims of, 3603 
 Writing. Secrets of, 3234 
 Wrong, 3606 ^ 
 
 a e ^° n for the New - 3343 
 Old and New, 3607 J 
 
 1 hanksgiving for a New, 3608 
 
 Years : how they are to be counted 
 
 321 
 
 Yesterday. Lessons of, 3609 
 Young. Claims of the, 3610 
 
 Counsel for the, 36x1 
 Death of the, 3612 
 Prayer for the, 3613 
 Prayer of the, 3614 
 Warning for the, 3615 
 Youth : and age, 3616, 3624 
 Aspirations of", 3617 
 described, 3618 
 Desires of, 3619 
 dissipated, 3620 
 Dreams of, 3621 
 Emblem of, 2264 
 Griefs of, 3622 
 Happiness of, 3623 
 
 Essays 2233133811 *•« 
 
 Impetuosity of, 886 
 Importance of education in, 3626 
 its delights, 112 
 its mistakes, 1138 
 mis-spent, 3627 
 Perils of, 3628 
 Rashness of, 3629 
 returnless, 3630 
 Sedateness in, 3631 
 Thoughtlessness of, 3622 
 ^ Zeal in, 3633 
 Youthful Beauty, 289 
 estimates fallacious, 865 
 passions, 2631 
 piety, 962—964 
 
 Zeal. Palse, 1317 
 Present, 3634 
 
 snould be guided by discretion, 886 
 ■I rue, 3635 
 
INDEX OF TEXTS 
 
 This Index is not put forth as complete ; it is merely suggestive ; yet it is hoped that it will be found helpful. 
 
 GENESIS 
 
 I. 1 
 
 14, 
 
 15 
 
 
 ... 
 
 3220 
 
 28 
 
 26 
 
 
 # # 
 
 • •• 
 
 2380 
 
 xiii. 7 
 
 27 
 
 
 • • • 
 
 ... 
 
 48 
 
 7 
 
 3 1 
 
 
 • • • 
 
 ... 
 
 2558 
 
 
 ii. 3 
 
 
 • • • 
 
 ... 
 
 3 OI 4 
 
 
 8 
 
 
 • • • 
 
 ... 
 
 2616 
 
 xvi. 7 
 
 18 
 
 
 • • • 
 
 ... 
 
 3547 
 
 xvii. 23 
 
 18 
 
 
 • •• 
 
 ... 
 
 3553 
 
 23 
 
 iii. 6 
 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 49 
 
 
 17 
 
 
 • •• 
 
 ... 
 
 975 
 
 
 19 
 
 
 
 ... 
 
 2187 
 
 v. 14 
 
 19 
 
 
 
 • •• 
 
 3566 
 
 xii. 28 
 
 24 
 
 
 
 • •• 
 
 998 
 
 xix. 35 
 
 iv. 3, 
 
 4 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 3575 
 
 xxi. 10 
 
 8 
 
 ... 9 
 
 viii. 22 
 32 
 ix. 21 
 xii. 14 
 xviii. 1—5 
 xix. 1, 2 
 
 12, 13 
 
 xxii. 4—18 
 xxiv. 63 
 
 63 
 
 6 3 
 
 xxviii. 12 
 12 
 12 
 
 xxxii. 26 
 xxxviii. 5 
 xlix. 1 
 
 exodus. 
 
 ii. 9 
 xiv. 14 
 i 5 
 i 5 ' 
 
 15 
 
 XV. I 
 
 25 
 
 XX. 8 
 
 xxiii. 4, 5 
 xxviii. 12, 29 
 xxxiv. 6 
 
 LEVITICUS. 
 
 xxvi. 17 . 
 
 17 . 
 
 NUMBERS. 
 
 xii. 6 . 
 
 xx. 23—29 ... 
 
 xxxii. 23 . 
 
 DEUTERONOMY. 
 
 vii. 10—14 
 10—14 
 xv. 7 
 7 
 
 xxix. 29 
 xxiii. 25 
 xxxiv. 36 
 
 v. 28 
 
 JUDGES. 
 
 JOB. 
 
 X SAMUEL. 
 
 2 SAMUEL. 
 
 JOSHUA. 
 
 ix. 14 
 
 2520 
 
 3 6 7 
 
 3046 
 
 1526 
 
 3509 
 
 279 
 
 290 
 
 290 
 
 3 T 43 
 
 9 
 
 1090 
 
 1095 
 
 2430 
 
 9 6 3 
 
 2057 
 
 2058 
 1184 
 
 9 2 5 
 
 957 
 
 965 
 
 269 
 
 1258 
 
 1652 
 
 1653 
 
 2937 
 
 20 
 
 3020 
 
 1026 
 
 I 
 
 1498 
 
 812 
 
 1254 
 
 925 
 
 2 
 
 2916 
 
 2887 
 
 2888 
 3064 
 3068 
 2169 
 
 3232 
 
 2504 
 
 200 
 
 1 KINGS. 
 
 V. 7 
 vi. 7 
 7 
 
 viii. 18 
 18 
 30 
 x. 7 
 xii. 10 
 xvii. 16 
 
 xviii. 42—45 ... 
 xix. 11—18 ... 
 
 12 
 xxi. 2 
 
 2 KINGS. 
 
 ii. 13. 
 
 iv. 20 ... 
 
 27. 
 
 y. 3. 
 
 vi. 17 ... . 
 
 xix. 35. 
 
 I CHRONICLES. 
 
 xiv. 15 . 
 
 xxviii. 2, 10 ... 
 
 xxix. 14 . 
 
 15 . 
 
 2 CHRONICLES. 
 
 iv. 8 
 vi. 8 
 8 
 8 
 21 
 x. 10 
 
 JOB. 
 
 1. 21 
 21 
 21 
 
 ii. 10 
 
 iii. 7 
 
 17 
 17 
 
 17—19 
 17—19 
 iv 13 ... 
 v. 6 ... 
 7 ••• 
 7 — 
 26 ... 
 
 10 
 
 62 
 
 3509 
 
 35 i° 
 
 200 
 
 2529 
 
 2532 
 
 952 
 
 2936 
 
 114 
 
 2357 
 
 5 11 
 
 5 ” 
 
 3296 
 
 2348 
 
 2349 
 2018 
 
 5 
 
 621 
 1299 
 2831 
 1010 
 3084 
 
 622 
 
 797 
 
 1298 
 
 1012 
 
 2938 
 
 177 
 
 34 ii 
 
 952 
 
 816 
 
 1476 
 
 976 
 
 2348 
 817 
 842 
 
 2349 
 2818 
 
 621 
 
 262 
 
 263 
 2798 
 3246 
 
 746 
 
 520 
 
 753 
 
 1600 
 
 1601 
 920 
 
 3 i8 4 
 
 876 
 
 23S4 
 
 108 
 
 7 •• 
 
 v. 
 
 V 1 U. 
 
 6 
 6 , 
 
 8 
 
 8 . 
 
 3 ■ 
 
 o 
 
 D 
 
 3 • 
 
 3 • 
 
 3 ■ 
 
 3 • 
 
 3 
 
 6—8 
 
 PSALMS. 
 
 vii. 14 
 
 
 ... 
 
 920 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 6 
 
 xi. 7 
 
 
 ... 
 
 150 1 
 
 
 6 
 
 xiii. 15 
 
 
 ... «*• 
 
 3505 
 
 
 8 
 
 xiv. 1 
 
 
 ... ••• 
 
 363 
 
 xii. 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 ... ••• 
 
 2383 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 ... 
 
 2384 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 2399 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 
 ... ... 
 
 2490 
 
 
 9 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 2515 
 
 xiii. 
 
 2 
 
 1 
 
 
 ... ... 
 
 3158 
 
 
 9 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 3180 
 
 xlvi. 
 
 4 
 
 xxi. 13 
 
 
 ... 
 
 343 1 
 
 
 10 
 
 15 
 
 
 
 2827 
 
 
 10 
 
 xxxi. 24 
 
 
 ... 
 
 2784 
 
 xlviii. 
 
 12 
 
 xxxii. 7 
 
 
 ... ... 
 
 35 H 
 
 1 . 
 
 14 
 
 21 
 
 
 
 1276 
 
 
 15 
 
 21 
 
 
 ... ... 
 
 1284 
 
 
 16 
 
 
 
 
 
 Ii. 
 
 17 
 
 
 PSALMS. 
 
 
 
 17 
 
 i. 
 
 I 
 
 ... 
 
 54 ° 
 
 
 17 
 
 iii. 
 
 45 
 
 ... 
 
 1090 
 
 Iii. 
 
 7 
 
 iv. 
 
 6 
 
 ... 
 
 339 
 
 Iv. 
 
 6 
 
 
 6 
 
 ... 
 
 34 i 
 
 
 17 
 
 1047 
 
 2693 
 
 2090 
 
 2813 
 
 658 
 
 2499 
 
 2500 
 
 2501 
 2503 
 2833 
 
 631 
 
 1S3 
 
 ix. 9 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 815 
 
 1 
 
 xiv. 1 
 
 
 . . . 
 
 227 
 
 lxxii. 3, 
 
 1 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 1526 
 
 lxxiii. 25 
 
 1 
 
 
 ... 
 
 2007 
 
 25 
 
 1 
 
 . . . 
 
 . . . 
 
 2009 
 
 25 
 
 xix. 1 
 
 ... 
 
 
 2560 
 
 28 
 
 1 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 2561 
 
 28 
 
 1 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 2562 
 
 lxxiv. 17 
 
 1— 
 
 -7 
 
 
 1505 
 
 lxxxiv. 11 
 
 4 
 
 ... 
 
 
 3595 
 
 11 
 
 .. T 4 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 3327 
 
 lxxxvi. 15 
 
 xxii. 1 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 815 
 
 lxxxvii. 7 
 
 2 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 480 
 
 lxxxviii. 13 
 
 2 5 
 
 ... 
 
 
 3082 
 
 xci. 15 
 
 xxiii. 2 
 
 . . . 
 
 ... 
 
 1658 
 
 xcv. 7 
 
 xxiv. 7 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 209 
 
 7 
 
 7 
 
 ... 
 
 
 210 
 
 7 
 
 xxvii. 3 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 I248 
 
 „ 7 
 
 14 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 839 
 
 cii. 23 
 
 xxx. 5 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 841 
 
 ... 2 5 
 
 xxxi. 15 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 73 2 
 
 ciii. 2 
 
 15 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 2910 
 
 2 
 
 i 5 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 3355 
 
 2 
 
 xxxiv. 1 
 
 . . . 
 
 
 279 1 
 
 *3 
 
 z 
 
 . . . 
 
 ... 
 
 2798 
 
 civ. 29 
 
 7 
 
 . . . 
 
 ... 
 
 172 
 
 cix. 17 
 
 .. x 9 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 3539 
 
 cxi. 2 
 
 xxxvii. 5, 
 
 6 
 
 ... 
 
 J 95 
 
 2 
 
 7 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 839 
 
 CXV. I 
 
 35 , 
 
 3 6 
 
 ... 
 
 3 6i 5 
 
 cxvi. 7 
 
 xxxix. 6 
 
 . . . 
 
 ... 
 
 25 
 
 7 
 
 6 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 251 
 
 14 
 
 6 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 380 
 
 cxviii. 9 
 
 17 
 
 lix. 16 
 lxi. 3 
 8 
 
 Ixii. 
 
 lxiii. 
 Ixvi. 
 
 lxix. 
 
 lxxi. 
 
 2 
 10 
 
 1 
 
 12 
 
 18 
 
 3 
 3 
 
 752 
 
 3078 
 
 3572 
 
 8 37 
 
 2760 
 
 2761 
 2763 
 
 557 
 
 2784 
 
 815 
 
 2274 
 
 2966 
 
 2978 
 
 518 
 
 2082 
 
 837 
 
 3595 
 
 602 
 
 3596 ’ 
 3505 
 
 2784 
 
 1080 
 
 2813 
 
 2833 
 
 2499 
 
 779 
 
 3082 
 
 779 
 
 2784 
 
 2693 
 
 3082 
 
 3595 
 
 2806 
 
 2807 
 279 1 
 2798 
 2676 
 
 I S20 
 
 2341 
 
 2693 
 
 2816 
 
 2824 
 
 3046 
 
 1580 
 
 2784 
 
 I498 
 
 IS 2 I 
 
 658 
 
 837 
 
 635 
 
 636 
 3358 
 3360 
 3 2 35 
 3210 
 
 3310 
 
 3311 
 
 3312 
 2717 
 
 732 
 
 648 
 
 980 
 
 1526 
 
 2800 
 
 2981 
 
 2985 
 
 3082 
 
 I246 
 
746 
 
 INDEX OF TEXTS. 
 
 PSALMS, 
 cxix. 63 
 cxxvi. 6 
 cxxvii. 2 
 cxxx. 1 
 cxxxviii. 6 
 cxxxix. 9, 10 
 cxlv. 2 
 2 
 
 15 — 
 
 20 
 
 21 
 
 cxlvi. 3 ... 
 
 ... 3 . 4 
 
 cxIvji. 19 
 
 cxlviii. 3—xo 
 
 PROVERBS. 
 
 ii. 11 
 
 23 
 
 26 
 
 iii. 11 
 21 
 
 24 
 
 25 
 25 
 
 .. 30 
 XU. 24 
 
 25 
 
 ... 2 5 
 
 X I U. 18 
 20 
 
 . 25 
 
 XIV. 10 
 
 17 
 
 30 
 
 34 
 xv. 15 
 
 18 
 
 xvi. 5 
 18 
 18 
 
 3 1 
 
 32 
 
 32 
 
 32 
 
 ... 32 
 xvm. 12 
 22 
 22 
 
 24 
 
 24 
 
 XIX. 13 
 
 14 
 
 XX. 13 
 
 . *9 
 
 XXI. 19 
 xxii. 1 
 6 
 10 
 
 15 
 ... 2 9 
 
 XXlll. 7 
 
 7 
 
 7 
 
 21 
 
 21 
 
 22 
 
 23 
 
 26 
 3 i 
 . 3 i 
 
 XXIV. 19 
 
 3141 
 
 3571 
 
 3126 
 
 814 
 
 1902 
 
 3046 
 
 2791 
 
 2798 
 
 1297 
 
 2784 
 
 2788 
 
 1246 
 
 751 
 
 1297 
 
 2561 
 
 886 
 
 35 i 7 
 
 1728 
 
 428 
 
 886 
 
 . 34 
 
 ... 1902 
 
 iv. 7 
 
 ... 3512 
 
 9, 10 ... 
 
 ... 126 
 
 . 23 
 
 ... 1740 
 
 vi. 1 
 
 ... 1240 
 
 2 
 
 ... 2780 
 
 6 
 
 ... 187 
 
 10 
 
 ... 3 i 33 
 
 10 
 
 — 3 i 37 
 
 viii. 17 
 
 ... 962 
 
 26 
 
 ... 2811 
 
 X. 4 
 
 ... 127 
 
 4 
 
 — 3567 
 
 . 15 
 
 ... 2967 
 
 xi. 13 
 
 ... 3048 
 
 15 
 
 ... I24O 
 
 21 
 
 ... 2916 
 
 22 
 
 26 
 
 PROVERBS. 
 
 xxiv. 23 
 
 29 
 
 33 
 
 34 
 
 xxv. 9 
 
 11 
 
 16, 27 ... 
 
 21, 22 ... 
 
 . 24 
 xxvi. 14 
 28 
 
 xxvii. 4 
 ... 7 
 
 XXVUl. I . 
 
 I . 
 
 I . 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 . 19 . 
 
 XXIX. 22 
 
 xxx. 8, 9. 
 
 . 25 . 
 
 XXXI. 30 . 
 
 3 ° . 
 
 30 . 
 
 3 1 . 
 
 ECCLESIASTES. 
 
 ' 3133 
 
 3002 
 3137 
 2780 
 3048 
 3234 
 2731 
 1036 
 
 3497 
 
 3137 
 
 1827 
 
 182 
 
 3037 
 
 562 
 
 812 
 
 1254 
 
 1664 
 
 1668 
 
 2780 
 
 182 
 
 2887 
 
 187 
 
 274 
 
 2360 
 
 3555 
 
 1245 
 
 xl. 6 
 iz 
 26 
 
 xlii. 2 
 xliii. 3 
 xlviii. 18 
 18 
 22 
 22 
 1. 10 
 10 
 z 
 3 
 
 4 - 
 5 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 21 
 21 
 
 ISAIAH. 
 
 liii. 
 
 Ivii. 
 
 lviii. 
 
 5—12 
 
 
 5—12 
 
 
 13 , 14 
 
 Ixiii. 
 
 9 
 
 Ixiv. 
 
 6 
 
 lxvi. 
 
 12 
 
 
 12 
 
 .. 3269 
 
 .. 540 
 
 1026 
 .. 2360 
 
 •• 3566 
 
 428 
 .. 429 
 
 .. 2780 
 
 .. 540 
 
 .. 2780 
 
 . 3138 
 
 . 182 
 
 • 1958 
 
 • 3445 
 
 . 428 
 
 895 
 . 2916 
 
 • 55 i 
 
 . 2887 
 . 109 
 
 . 182 
 
 1802 
 
 3053 
 
 3055 
 
 2887 
 
 1470 
 
 3504 
 96 
 
 1383 
 
 3497 
 
 3505 
 2780 
 3048 
 3437 
 
 13 
 
 3145 
 
 183 
 
 440 
 3566 
 
 825 
 
 1732 
 3327 
 i486 
 2780 
 
 17 
 
 3392 
 772 
 133 
 35 o 8 
 544 
 
 1. 2 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 — 338 
 
 2 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 1047 
 
 2 ... 
 
 0 
 
 ... 
 
 — 3035 
 
 O 
 
 ... 
 
 ••• 3570 
 
 18 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 2164 
 
 ii. 14 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 700 
 
 16 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 1196 
 
 23 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 — 393 
 
 v. I ... 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 505 
 
 12 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 — 3125 
 
 12 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 3128 
 
 vii. 9 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 182 
 
 10 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 451 
 
 10 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 — 3356 
 
 ix. 2 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 . . . 700 
 
 xi. 
 
 XU. 
 
 10 
 
 10 
 
 10 
 
 10 
 
 I 
 
 6 
 
 6 
 
 1 
 
 12 
 
 12 
 
 42 
 
 373 
 
 955 
 
 1026 
 
 21S1 
 
 2182 
 
 3571 
 
 114 
 
 35 i 
 
 3233 
 
 SONG OF SOLOMON. 
 
 ii. 10. 61 
 
 viii. 6 ... ... ... 2059 
 
 6 . 2351 
 
 ISAIAH. 
 
 1 - 3 
 
 II 
 II 
 
 ii. 4 
 
 4 
 
 21 
 
 22 
 iii. 14 
 
 v. 8 
 14 
 14 
 
 20 
 vi. 6 
 8 
 
 xiv. 2 
 11 
 11 
 
 xxi. 11 
 11 
 
 xxvi. 3 
 xxvii. 13 
 xxviii. 16 
 
 xxix. 13 
 13 
 
 xxx. 18 
 18 
 
 xxxii. 2 
 2 
 8 
 
 xxxviii. 1—3 
 
 2020 
 
 855 
 
 3595 
 
 2465 
 
 2676 
 
 2944 
 
 75 i 
 
 1449 
 
 622 
 
 148 
 
 1593 
 
 1074 
 
 2944 
 
 3075 
 
 2465 
 
 148 
 
 156 
 
 61 
 
 62 
 
 581 
 
 1568 
 
 952 
 
 608 
 
 2815 
 
 1534 
 
 3455 
 
 2944 
 
 3012 
 
 362 
 
 74 i 
 
 111. 4 
 iv. 14 
 
 14 
 14 
 
 xiii. 23 
 xlv. 5 
 5 
 
 JEREMIAH. 
 
 xxxvu. i 
 
 i. 8 .. 
 
 iv. 16—18 
 
 v. 1—18 
 
 ii. 18 .., 
 vii. 9 ... 
 
 iv. 12 
 
 v. 18—20 
 
 EZEKIEL. 
 
 DANIEL. 
 
 HOSEA. 
 
 AMOS. 
 
 MICAH. 
 
 11 . 2 
 
 ZECHARIAH. 
 
 iv. 13 . 
 
 ix. 10 . 
 
 MAI.ACHI. 
 
 iii- 3 . 
 
 3 . 
 
 6 . 
 
 MATTHEW. 
 
 ii. 9 
 11 
 11 
 
 11 
 
 12 
 
 iii. 8 
 
 9 . 
 
 11 . 
 
 iv. 1 . 
 
 6 . 
 
 v- 3 . 
 
 3 —11. 
 
 4 . 
 
 4 . 
 
 7 . 
 
 7 . 
 
 14 . 
 
 14 . 
 
 16 . 
 
 34 . 
 
 34 . 
 
 44 . 
 
 . 44 . 
 
 vi. 3 . 
 
 3 . 
 
 75 i 
 
 3481 
 
 628 
 
 3084 
 
 2669 
 
 2669 
 
 2674 
 
 3093 
 
 3°94 
 
 815 
 
 841 
 
 2851 
 
 457 
 
 234 
 
 456 
 
 483 
 
 3097 
 
 3093 
 
 3094 
 
 1231 
 
 1233 
 
 3018 
 
 3262 
 
 2222 
 
 2669 
 
 2674 
 
 3614 
 
 825 
 
 3327 
 
 3091 
 
 2547 
 
 141 
 
 859 
 
 506 
 
 23 
 
 23 
 
 843 
 
 2676 
 
 103 
 
 3326 
 
 664 
 
 622 
 
 2717 
 
 2676 
 
 91 
 
 871 
 
 8 
 
 1659 
 
 2590 
 
 2591 
 
 2594 
 
 925 
 
 2940 
 
 3053 
 
 3305 
 
 3297 
 
 3043 
 
 842 
 
 326 
 
 86 
 
 2513 
 
 217 
 
 2448 
 
 494 
 
 512 
 
 1109 
 
 1106 
 
 1107 
 1036 
 
 1307 
 
 423 
 
 1549 
 
 vi. 
 
 Vll. 
 
 MATTHEW. 
 
 • 6 . 
 
 5 2 6 < 
 
 7 . 
 
 2815 
 
 7 . 
 
 2838 
 
 8 . 
 
 2784 
 
 15 . 
 
 898 
 
 15 . 
 
 1304 
 
 16 -18. 
 
 1232 
 
 20 . 
 
 11 79 
 
 25—32. 
 
 392 
 
 28 . 
 
 1291 
 
 34 . 
 
 381 
 
 34 . 
 
 1431 
 
 34 . 
 
 3174 
 
 1 
 
 403 
 
 1 
 
 2511 
 
 1, 2 . 
 
 2097 
 
 1.2 . 
 
 21c 7 
 
 12 
 
 136 
 
 . 24—27 . 
 
 I 34 i 
 
 24—27 . 
 
 1343 
 
 25—34 . 
 
 192 
 
 27 . 
 
 395 
 
 32 ..* 
 
 193 
 
 34 _ . 
 
 194 
 
 Vlll. 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 24—26 
 
 ix. 15 
 
 37 
 
 x. 8 
 
 8 
 
 16 
 
 38 
 38 
 42 
 
 46 
 XL 15 
 
 25 
 25 
 28 
 28 
 28 
 28 
 28 
 xii. 19 
 20 
 ... 36 
 xni. 8 
 
 15 
 
 28 
 
 xxii. 44 
 xxiii. 11 
 . 2 3 
 
 xxiv. 42, 44 
 xxv. 1—14 
 
 1—14 
 6 
 6 
 
 11, 12 
 
 32 
 
 40 
 
 469 
 
 2205 
 
 2075 
 
 3303 
 
 59 
 
 2095 
 
 1473 
 
 1476 
 
 3513 
 
 641 
 
 643 
 
 5 i 5 
 
 3083 
 
 2485 
 
 1513 
 
 2076 
 
 534 
 
 2982 
 
 3014 
 
 3079 
 
 3492 
 
 3084 
 
 474 
 
 3559 
 
 357 i 
 
 . 30 , 39 -• 
 
 ... 3072 
 
 xiv. 25 
 
 ... 2699. 
 
 . 2 7 
 
 ... 2665 
 
 xvi. 24 
 
 ... 641 
 
 24 
 
 643 
 
 ... 2 4 
 
 ... 3058 
 
 xvm. 1 
 
 ... 1625 
 
 2 
 
 ... 964 
 
 . 35 
 
 ... 1304 
 
 xix. 14 
 
 ... 464 
 
 14 
 
 ... . 465 
 
 30 
 
 ... 2865 
 
 XX. I 
 
 ... 2180 
 
 4 
 
 ... 2695 
 
 !6 
 
 ... 2868 
 
 xxi. 8 
 
 ... 2592 
 
 450 
 
 2693 
 
 734 
 
 1625 
 
 406 
 
 6 3 
 
 55 
 
 56 
 60 
 
 742 
 
 783 
 
 3072 
 
 2460 
 
 40 
 
 ... 2758 
 
 35 
 
 ... 808 
 
 36—44 ... 
 
 ... 1466 
 
 36—44 — 
 
 ... 1467 
 
 39 > 42 ... 
 
 ... 21 
 
 39 
 
 — 2935 
 
 39 
 
 ... 2967 
 
 39 
 
 ... 2968 
 
 39 
 
 ... 2971 
 
 39 
 
 ... 2972 
 
 39 
 
 ... 3305 
 
 40 
 
 •” 3145 
 
INDEX OF TEXTS . 
 
 747 
 
 MATTHEW. 
 
 xxvi. 40, 41 ... 
 
 41 
 
 41 
 
 41 • •• 
 
 4 2 • • • 
 
 xxvii. 29 
 
 46 ••• 
 
 4^ • . • 
 
 xxviii. 6 
 6 
 6 
 6 
 7 
 7 
 7 
 7 
 7 
 7 
 7 
 7 
 35 
 
 MARK. 
 
 1. 17 ... 
 
 40 ... 
 ii. 14 ... 
 
 20 ... 
 
 iv. 27 ... 
 
 37—39 
 
 v. 7 ... 
 
 33 ... 
 
 vi. 31 ... 
 46 ... 
 48 ... 
 5 ° 
 
 via. 34 ... 
 
 34 — 
 34 - 
 36 ... 
 
 . 5 ::: 
 
 IX. 34 ... 
 
 36 ... 
 
 41 • • • 
 
 X. 15 ... 
 16 ... 
 16 ... 
 
 21 ... 
 21 ... 
 26 ... 
 3 I ... 
 
 * 
 
 XI. 20 ... 
 
 3480 
 401 
 
 33°8 
 
 3481 
 89 
 
 762 
 
 457 
 
 458 
 
 470 
 
 471 
 
 472 
 I59 2 
 
 987 
 
 988 
 
 989 
 
 990 
 
 992 
 
 993 
 
 994 
 
 995 
 
 3540 
 
 1296 
 
 469 
 
 1296 
 
 59 
 
 3205 
 
 3303 
 
 2760 
 
 809 
 
 2983 
 
 2047 
 
 2679 
 
 2665 
 
 641 
 
 643 
 
 3°53 
 
 1778 
 
 3 t 38 
 
 3 I 9 ° 
 
 1625 
 
 964 
 
 4*5 
 
 964 
 
 464 
 
 465 
 
 641 
 
 643 
 
 239 
 
 2868 
 
 33i 
 
 I3°4 
 
 LUKE. 
 
 vii. 37, 38 
 ... 38 
 
 viii. 23, 24 
 
 ix. 23 
 
 23 
 
 37 
 
 46 
 
 x. 2 
 
 29 
 31 
 
 39. 40 — 
 
 xii. 32 
 40 
 48 
 
 xiv. 27 
 
 27 
 
 xv. 3 
 
 4, 5 
 16 
 
 xvi. 9 
 19 
 
 19 \ ... 
 
 19, 20 \ ... 
 
 20 
 22 
 51 
 
 xvii. 21 
 xviii. 10 
 
 10 
 
 11 
 
 13 
 
 16 
 
 16 
 
 17 
 
 30 
 
 xix. 8 
 17 
 
 xxi. 3 
 
 3 
 
 28 
 
 xxii. 2 
 
 4. ^ 
 
 24 * * * 
 
 41—44 ... 
 
 41—44 ... 
 
 41—44 ... 
 
 42 
 
 42 • • • 
 
 xxiv. 32 
 51 
 
 JOHN. 
 
 2361 
 
 2683 
 
 3303 
 
 643 
 
 3058 
 
 964 
 
 1625 
 
 2965 
 
 2568 
 
 1064 
 
 2417 
 
 516 
 
 734 
 
 2557 
 
 641 
 
 643 
 
 2601 
 
 3°79 
 
 827 
 
 4 X 7 
 
 3064 
 
 3068 
 
 129 
 
 3246 
 
 687 
 
 209 
 1764 
 
 2853 
 
 2868 
 
 2829 
 
 2961 
 
 464 
 
 465 
 
 964 
 
 2868 
 
 * 3 T 5 
 
 722 
 
 2348 
 
 2349 
 663 
 
 349 6 
 
 401 
 
 1652 
 
 1466 
 
 1467 
 1469 
 
 21 
 
 89 
 
 538 
 
 210 
 
 JOHN. 
 
 xii. 42 ... 
 
 • • • 
 
 ... 
 
 349 6 
 
 i. 3 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 901 
 
 22 ... 
 
 
 ... 
 
 43. 44 
 
 • •• 
 
 
 2348 
 
 14 
 
 • •• 
 
 ... 
 
 461 
 
 28 ... 
 
 
 ... 
 
 . 43> 44 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 2349 
 
 iii. 3 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 605 
 
 28 ... 
 
 n 
 
 • • • 
 
 ... 
 
 xiii. 35 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 
 63 
 
 21 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 381 
 
 28 ... 
 
 
 ... 
 
 35 ••• 
 
 • •• 
 
 
 708 
 
 24 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 3048 
 
 28 ... 
 
 • • • 
 
 ... 
 
 xiv. 8 ... 
 
 • •• 
 
 
 2348 
 
 iv. 24 
 
 ... 
 
 
 3600 
 
 28 ... 
 
 
 ... 
 
 8 ... 
 
 • •• 
 
 ... 
 
 2349 
 
 v. 2 — 9 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 292 
 
 28 ... 
 
 
 ... 
 
 31 ... 
 
 • •• 
 
 
 808 
 
 29 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 378 
 
 ix. 20 ... 
 
 • • • 
 
 ... 
 
 32—39 
 
 • •• 
 
 • •• 
 
 1466 
 
 44 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 2794 
 
 xii. 3 ... 
 
 
 ... 
 
 32—39 
 
 • •• 
 
 
 1467 
 
 44 
 
 ... 
 
 
 2803 
 
 3 — 
 
 
 ... 
 
 36 ... 
 
 • •• 
 
 ... 
 
 21 
 
 vi. 19 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 2679 
 
 11 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 36 ... 
 
 • •• 
 
 
 89 
 
 20 
 
 ... 
 
 
 2665 
 
 15 ••• 
 
 
 ... 
 
 . 38 
 
 . « • 
 
 ... 
 
 401 
 
 35 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 479 
 
 15 • •• 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 xvi. 19 ... 
 
 • • • 
 
 . • • 
 
 209 
 
 37 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 266 
 
 15 — 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 19 ... 
 
 • • • 
 
 • •• 
 
 210 
 
 viii. 32 
 
 ... 
 
 
 1347 
 
 19 ... 
 
 
 ... 
 
 
 
 
 
 32 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 2207 
 
 20 ... 
 
 
 ... 
 
 LUKE. 
 
 
 
 ix. 31 
 
 ... 
 
 
 3595 
 
 xiii. 11 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 ii. 7 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 2575 
 
 x. 4 
 
 
 ... 
 
 3450 
 
 13 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 8—11 
 
 
 ... 
 
 53 
 
 27 
 
 ... 
 
 
 3450 
 
 xiv. 8 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 13 
 
 
 
 469 
 
 xi. 26 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 753 
 
 10 ... 
 
 
 ... 
 
 13 
 
 
 ... 
 
 497 
 
 xii. 21 
 
 ... 
 
 
 3051 
 
 13 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 13 
 
 • •• 
 
 
 498 
 
 24 
 
 ... 
 
 
 3024 
 
 
 
 
 13 
 
 • •• 
 
 
 499 
 
 43 
 
 ... 
 
 
 2794 
 
 I CORINTHIANS. 
 
 13 
 
 
 
 501 
 
 43 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 2803 
 
 11. 9 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 13 
 
 ... 
 
 
 503 
 
 xiii. 7 
 
 ... 
 
 
 2896 
 
 9 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 I 3 
 
 ... 
 
 
 504 
 
 . 34 
 
 ... 
 
 
 2366 
 
 iii. 13 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 iii. 11 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 3064 
 
 xiv. 2 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 211 
 
 iv. 10 ... 
 
 
 ... 
 
 11 
 
 ... 
 
 
 3068 
 
 2 
 
 ... 
 
 
 212 
 
 ' 3 , 14 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 iv. 2 
 
 
 ... 
 
 3278 
 
 6 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 476 
 
 v. 7 ... 
 
 
 
 10 
 
 • •• 
 
 • •• 
 
 3043 
 
 6 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 487 
 
 vi. 9, 10 
 
 
 ... 
 
 V. 12 
 
 
 
 469 
 
 18 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 212 
 
 19 ... 
 
 
 ... 
 
 . 35 
 
 • •• 
 
 ... 
 
 59 
 
 19 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 478 
 
 vii. 30 ... 
 
 
 *• 
 
 VI. 20 
 
 
 
 2786 
 
 27 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 490 
 
 31 ... 
 
 
 •• 
 
 21 
 
 ... 
 
 
 86 
 
 27 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 2666 
 
 32 ... 
 
 
 •* 
 
 37 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 403 
 
 xv. 4 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 4 
 
 x. 10 ... 
 
 
 •• 
 
 37 
 
 • • • 
 
 ... 
 
 1304 
 
 xvi. 16 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 1029 
 
 10 ... 
 
 
 •• 
 
 vii. 11—15 
 
 ... 
 
 • • • 
 
 2483 
 
 16 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 3676 
 
 31 •• 
 
 ... 
 
 •• 
 
 xvi. 16 
 
 23 
 
 33 
 33 
 .. 33 
 xvn. 3 
 
 . 3 
 
 xix. 25 
 
 25 
 
 XX. 29 
 xxi. 15 
 17 
 
 ACTS OF THE 
 i. 9 
 9 
 
 13,14 
 
 U. 3 
 3 
 
 24 
 
 vii. 55 
 
 ix. 11 
 
 x. 38 
 
 xi. 26 
 xii. 2 
 xiv. 22 
 
 22 
 
 xvi. 25 
 
 xvii. 21 
 21 
 
 xx. 21 
 
 24 
 
 25 
 
 . 35 
 
 xxi. 13 
 
 xxiv. 6 
 
 25 
 25 
 25 
 
 3 6 77 
 
 2673 
 
 2667 
 
 2668 
 
 ., 3*45 
 
 V03 
 
 ... 2172 
 
 ... 2427 
 
 ... 345 ° 
 
 ... 2895 
 
 — 3277 
 
 — 2339 
 
 APOSTLES. 
 
 209 
 
 210 
 
 3 r 39 
 1813 
 1817 
 680 
 956 
 2961 
 420 
 492 
 
 745 
 869 
 3181 
 1982 
 647 
 2580 
 
 2845 
 2341 
 
 2875 
 1026 
 
 2341 
 561 
 
 727 
 
 784 
 
 2879 
 
 ROMANS. 
 
 1. 
 
 ii. 
 
 7 ... 
 4 ... 
 4 ... 
 6 ... 
 
 iv. 19, 20 
 
 v. 1 ... 
 3 — 
 3. 4 
 
 8 ... 
 
 vi. 11 ... 
 
 vii. 18 ... 
 
 viii. 22 ... 
 
 I CORINTHIANS. 
 
 3024 
 
 1498 
 
 2818 
 2995 
 1156 
 2677 
 
 88 
 
 73 
 
 459 
 
 991 
 
 3606 
 
 975 
 
 1098 
 
 73 
 
 1104 
 
 2898 
 
 2906 
 
 2908 
 
 352 i 
 
 1515 
 
 3057 
 
 3°59 
 
 2819 
 
 1273 
 
 2760 
 
 3°7i 
 
 3002 
 
 1036 
 
 54 
 
 606 
 
 2305 
 
 403 
 
 795 
 
 629 
 
 1786 
 
 37 1 
 
 2341 
 
 711 
 
 680 
 
 217 
 
 1814 
 
 1068 
 
 2536 
 
 192 
 
 2523 
 
 2524 
 
 1484 
 
 x. 31 
 xii. 28 
 xiii. 1- 
 
 3 
 
 11 
 
 13 
 
 13 
 
 13 
 
 xv. 18 
 
 ■13 
 
 II. 
 
 iv, 
 
 v. 
 
 vi. 
 
 vii. 
 
 viii. 
 
 x. 
 
 xi, 
 xii. 
 
 xm. 
 
 20 ... 
 
 20—22 
 
 35 — 
 
 37 — 
 
 37 — • 
 
 43 — 
 
 52 ... 
 
 55 — 
 
 55 — 
 
 55 — 
 
 58 ... 
 
 58 ... 
 
 58 ... 
 
 2 CORINTHIAN 
 
 4 ••• 
 
 4 • • • 
 
 12 ... 
 
 20 ... 
 
 l6 ... 
 
 7 — 
 
 7 — 
 
 16 ... 
 
 17 ... 
 
 17 ... 
 
 7 ... 
 
 IO ... 
 
 14 ... 
 
 14 ... 
 
 14 ... 
 
 15 — 
 
 15 ... 
 
 17 ... 
 
 10 ... 
 
 10 ... 
 
 10 ... 
 
 12 ... 
 
 12 ... 
 
 7 — 
 
 14 ... 
 
 9 ... 
 
 9, 10 
 
 11 ... 
 
 5 — 
 
 8 ... 
 
 GALATIANS. 
 
 V. 6 
 
 24 
 vi. i 
 I 
 
 4 
 
 4 
 
 7 
 
 7 
 
 7 
 
 9 
 
 9 
 
 9 
 
 9 
 
 9 
 
 9 
 
 9 
 
 12 
 
 1. 22 
 
 iii. 15 
 
 iv. 2 
 4“ 
 15 
 15 
 
 15 
 
 16 
 3* 
 3 1 
 
 v. 16 
 16 
 16 
 16 
 
 EPHESIANS. 
 
 2791 
 
 3060 
 
 1473 
 
 3 6 35 
 
 168 
 
 421 
 
 1583 
 
 233 ° 
 
 673 
 
 680 
 
 718 
 
 1968 
 
 375 
 377 
 342 
 
 376 
 669 
 
 1588 
 
 1975 
 
 1008 
 
 3567 
 
 1006 
 
 3 16 4 
 
 3 1 6 5 
 561 
 460 
 
 525 
 
 1006 
 
 1008 
 
 in 
 
 870 
 
 2947 
 
 1187 
 
 664 
 
 2341 
 
 2358 
 
 2 360 
 
 576 
 
 993 
 
 2960 
 
 2945 
 
 2683 
 
 2955 
 
 2348 
 
 2349 
 
 200 
 
 3307 
 
 466 
 
 3250 
 
 305* 
 
 3060 
 
 3395 
 
 ii73 
 
 2942 
 
 265 
 
 1194 
 
 3060 
 
 3061 
 2916 
 
 2995 
 
 3206 
 
 1006 
 
 1007 
 2696 
 3278 
 3280 
 349 1 
 3567 
 2182 
 
 478 
 
 1215 
 
 1301 
 
 1266 
 
 1464 
 
 3389 
 
 3635 
 
 478 
 
 182 
 
 1105 
 
 24 
 
 29 
 
 30 
 
 42 
 
748 
 
 INDEX OF TEXTS . 
 
 EPHESIANS. 
 
 VI. 9 
 9 
 
 II 
 
 II 
 
 13 
 
 13 
 
 13 
 
 13 
 
 14 
 18 
 
 1464 
 
 3073 
 
 204 
 
 3034 
 
 269 
 
 270 
 1035 
 1294 
 
 611 
 
 2698 
 
 2 THESSALONIANS. 
 ii. 10—12 . 339! 
 
 HEBREWS. 
 
 I TIMOTHY. 
 
 1. I 
 
 12 
 .. 15 
 II. 9 
 iii. 3 
 6 
 
 111. 
 
 IV. 
 
 PHII.IPPIANS. 
 
 
 iv. 8 . 
 
 12* ...* ... ;. 
 
 1 . 22, 23 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 800 
 
 vi. 4, 5 
 
 22, 23 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 802 
 
 6 ... .<. 
 
 23 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 468 
 
 6 ... 
 
 23 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 .... 
 
 1754 
 
 8 . 
 
 23 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 1755 
 
 8 • . 
 
 24 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 694 
 
 9 , *° 
 
 • I 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 579 
 
 9 , 10 . 
 
 5 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 3076 
 
 10 . • 
 
 13 ••• 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 400 
 
 10 
 
 13 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 3325 
 
 10 . 
 
 15 — 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 494 
 
 *6 . 
 
 15 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 512 
 
 *7 . 
 
 9 -. 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 3080 
 
 12 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 2879 
 
 2 TIMOTHY. 
 
 12—14 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 213 
 
 i. IO . 
 
 14 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 128 
 
 ii. 16 . 
 
 14 — 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 1120 
 
 23 . 
 
 14 ... 
 
 16 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 2687 
 
 23 . 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 3049 
 
 24— 26 . 
 
 19 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 1132 
 
 jii- 15 . 
 
 19 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 1264 
 
 iv. 6 . 
 
 5—7 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 1123 
 
 10 . 
 
 5—7 
 
 ... 
 
 
 1125 
 
 
 6 ... 
 
 6 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 190 
 
 3 * 7*6 
 
 TITUS. 
 
 iii- 9 . 
 
 7 — 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 490 
 
 HEBREWS. 
 
 11 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 593 
 
 i- 2, 3 . 
 
 11 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 594 
 
 *4 . 
 
 11 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 597 
 
 *4 . 
 
 11, 12 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 1068 
 
 .. 14. 
 
 11, 12 
 
 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 1327 
 
 “• 3 . 
 
 COLOSSIANS. 
 
 l. 7 
 16 
 16 
 iii. 1 
 8 
 11 
 
 13 
 
 14 
 
 15 
 
 . I 7 
 
 IV. 1 
 
 5 
 
 I THESSALONIANS. 
 H. 7 , 8 *. 
 lv - 3 
 
 13 
 
 *3 
 13 
 13 
 13 
 15 
 17 
 v. 16 
 
 217 
 
 901 
 
 1752 
 
 99 1 
 
 182 
 
 484 
 
 1301 
 
 421 
 
 490 
 
 491 
 3073 
 
 30 
 
 2845 
 
 3169 
 
 301 
 
 710 
 
 73 i 
 
 99 + 
 
 2514 
 
 673 
 
 1966 
 
 2945 
 
 3 • 
 9 • 
 
 15 • 
 
 18 . 
 
 18 • 
 
 iii. 1 . 
 
 7 • 
 7 • 
 
 iv. 7 . 
 
 7 • 
 7 • 
 7 • 
 7 • 
 9 
 
 9 •• 
 
 13 •• 
 15 •• 
 15 •• 
 
 15 •• 
 
 16 .. 
 
 v. 8,9 
 
 . 9 •• 
 
 vi. 7 , 8 
 
 10 .. 
 10 ... 
 12 ... 
 
 .. 1886 
 .. 248; 
 
 .. 2013 
 
 .. 196 
 
 .. 2479 
 
 .. 2870 
 
 •• 495 
 
 .. 1527 
 
 813 
 .. 2701 
 
 587 
 
 .. 2468 
 59 ° 
 592 
 
 2373 
 
 2374 
 
 1531 
 
 1535 
 
 1536 
 
 1180 
 2874 
 
 2221 
 
 3045 
 
 .2701 
 
 3517 
 
 203 
 
 3 ** 
 
 734 
 
 971 
 
 2701 
 
 IX. 
 
 7. *2 
 
 
 11,12 
 
 
 25 ... 
 
 X. 
 
 12, i 4 
 
 xi. 
 
 1 ... 
 
 4 
 
 6 
 
 *3 
 14 , 
 27 
 .. 38 
 xu. 1 
 2 
 2 
 2 
 ? 
 
 5 
 5 
 
 11 
 
 11 
 
 11 
 
 11 
 
 11 
 
 11 
 
 11 
 
 11 
 
 11 
 
 11 
 
 11 
 
 ... *4 
 xm. 4 
 
 5 
 
 14 . 
 18 . 
 
 
 901 
 
 172 
 
 1 75 
 
 176 
 2566 
 3605 
 
 232 
 
 699 
 
 462 
 
 3299 
 
 1 
 
 6 35 
 
 636 
 
 6 35 
 
 636 
 
 3358 
 
 3360 
 
 3605 
 
 29.86 
 
 2987 
 
 3596 
 
 462 
 
 473 
 
 3164 
 
 1582 
 
 2947 
 
 2960 
 
 3248 
 
 4 i 7 
 
 1190 
 
 803 
 
 iv, 
 
 1. 4 
 
 4 
 10 
 10 
 10 
 
 17 
 27 
 
 27 
 11. 1 
 
 13 
 
 20 
 20 
 iii. 5 
 
 5 
 
 . 15 
 
 3 
 7 
 7 
 7 
 7 
 7 
 
 14 
 14 
 14 
 14 
 
 7 
 
 7 , 8 
 16 
 18 
 
 l. 4 
 
 JAMES, 
 
 I PETER. 
 
 ’ 233 
 
 I 
 
 645 
 
 645 
 
 1176 
 
 1162 
 
 723 
 
 2814 
 
 976 
 
 1784. 
 
 585 
 
 2419 
 
 306 
 
 2312 
 
 2 3 1 3 
 23 H 
 2660 
 
 302 
 
 833 
 
 65 
 
 94 
 
 99 
 
 863 
 
 865 
 
 868 
 
 3159 
 
 3174 
 
 3235 
 
 3247 
 
 3369 
 
 217 
 
 2415 
 
 1657 
 976 
 561 
 
 10 33 
 
 1034 
 
 68 
 
 1332 
 
 2876 
 
 8 
 
 418 
 
 2460 
 
 2765 
 
 2449 
 
 11 53 
 1161 
 2922 
 3559 
 895 
 2842 
 611 
 3201 
 3204 
 
 3237 
 
 3238 
 20 
 
 2220 
 
 2910 
 
 3359 
 
 3457 
 
 2645 
 
 2821 
 
 2831 
 
 1766 
 
 I PETEK 1 ; 
 
 IV 
 
 IX. s ... 
 
 
 51 
 
 7 — 
 
 
 871 
 
 7 ... 
 
 ... ’ .. 
 
 • 3247 
 
 8 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 . 488 
 
 18, 19 
 
 ... •• 
 
 . 3204 
 
 .. 2 4 ... 
 
 ... •• 
 
 751 
 
 u.'ii 
 
 * .. 
 
 477 
 
 20—23 
 
 ... 
 
 2642 
 
 20—23 
 
 ... 
 
 2652 
 
 21 
 
 ... •• 
 
 m 3 
 
 ... 2 3 — 
 
 
 1310 
 
 in. 3 — 
 
 ... 
 
 196 
 
 12 
 
 ... 
 
 1031 
 
 13 — 
 
 
 3323 
 
 18 
 
 . 
 
 1649 
 
 v. 7 ... 
 
 • • . • • 
 
 190 
 
 7 ••• 
 
 ... 
 
 192 
 
 7 ••• 
 
 . 
 
 *95 
 
 7 — 
 
 ... 
 
 374 
 
 7 — 
 
 ••• 
 
 396 
 
 7 ... 
 
 2 
 
 PETER. 
 
 3*76 
 
 i. 7 ... 
 
 ... ... 
 
 421 
 
 11 
 
 ... 
 
 702 
 
 ii. 8 
 
 ... 
 
 2947 
 
 9 ... 
 
 ... ... 
 
 1498 
 
 9 — 
 
 ... ... 
 
 2818 
 
 10 
 
 1 
 
 JOHN. 
 
 767 
 
 i. 7 — 
 
 
 3020 
 
 . 7 -. 
 
 ... 
 
 3033 
 
 1. 10 
 
 ... 
 
 2699 
 
 ii. 2 
 
 ... 
 
 663 
 
 14 — 
 
 . ... 
 
 2699 
 
 17 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 4 i 5 
 
 17 ... 
 
 ... 
 
 3064 
 
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