The World's Best Poetry — Volume 10
Author: Various
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Do not drop in for an after-loss. Ah, do not, when my heart hath 'scaped this sorrow, Come in the rearward of a conquered woe; Give not a windy night a rainy morrow, To linger out a purposed overthrow. Sonnet XC. SHAKESPEARE.

I have not loved the world, nor the world me. Childe Harold, Canto III. LORD BYRON.


Past and to come seem best; things present worst. King Henry IV., Pt. II. Act i. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort As if he mocked himself and scorned his spirit That could be moved to smile at anything. Julius Caesar, Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

To sigh, yet feel no pain, To weep, yet scarce know why; To sport an hour with beauty's chain, Then throw it idly by. The Blue Stocking. T. MOORE.


Why to yon mountain turns the musing eye, Whose sunbright 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. Pleasures of Hope, Pt. I. T. CAMPBELL.

Yon foaming flood seems motionless as ice; Its dizzy turbulence eludes the eye, Frozen by distance. Address to Kilchurn Castle. W. WORDSWORTH.

How he fell From heaven they fabled, thrown by angry Jove Sheer o'er the crystal battlements; from morn To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve, A summer's day; and with the setting sun Dropt from the zenith like a falling star. Paradise Lost, Bk. I. MILTON.

What! will the line stretch out to the crack of doom? Macbeth, Act iv. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.


Modest doubt is called The beacon of the wise. Troilus and Cressida, Act ii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

Who never doubted, never half believed, Where doubt there truth is—'tis her shadow. Festus: Sc. A Country Town. P.J. BAILEY.

Uncertain ways unsafest are, And doubt a greater mischief than despair. Cooper's Hill. SIR J. DENHAM.

But the gods are dead— Ay, Zeus is dead, and all the gods but Doubt, And Doubt is brother devil to Despair! Prometheus: Christ. J.B. O'REILLY.

Our doubts are traitors And make us lose the good we oft might win By fearing to attempt. Measure for Measure, Act i. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.

But now, I am cabined, cribbed, confined, bound in To saucy doubts and fears. Macbeth, Act iii. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.

Attempt the end, and never stand to doubt; Nothing's so hard but search will find it out. Seek and Find. R. HERRICK.

Dubious is such a scrupulous good man— Yes—you may catch him tripping if you can, He would not, with a peremptory tone, Assert the nose upon his face his own; With hesitation admirably slow, He humbly hopes—presumes—it may be so. Conversation. W. COWPER.

But there are wanderers o'er Eternity Whose bark drives on and on, and anchored ne'er shall be. Childe Harold, Canto III. LORD BYRON.

The wound of peace is surety, Surety secure; but modest doubt is called The beacon of the wise, the tent that searches To the bottom of the worst. Troilus and Cressida, Act ii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.


Dreams are but interludes, which fancy makes; When monarch reason sleeps, this mimic wakes. Fables: The Cock and the Fox. J. DRYDEN.

'Twas but a dream,—let it pass,—let it vanish like so many others! What I thought was a flower is only a weed, and is worthless. Courtship of Miles Standish, Pt. VIII. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

One of those passing rainbow dreams, Half light, half shade, which fancy's beams Paint on the fleeting mists that roll, In trance or slumber, round the soul! Lalla Rookh: Fire Worshippers. T. MOORE.

If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep, My dreams presage some joyful news at hand: My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne; And all this day an unaccustomed spirit Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts. Romeo and Juliet, Act v. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

And yet, as angels in some brighter dreams Call to the soul when man doth sleep, So some strange thoughts transcend our wonted dreams, And into glory peep. Ascension Hymn. H. VAUGHAN.

When to soft Sleep we give ourselves away, And in a dream as in a fairy bark Drift on and on through the enchanted dark To purple daybreak—little thought we pay To that sweet bitter world we know by day. Sonnet: Sleep. T.B. ALDRICH.

Dreams are the children of an idle brain. Romeo and Juliet, Act i. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.


Let thy attyre bee comely, but not costly. Euphues, 1579. J. LYLY.

The soul of this man is his clothes. All's Well that Ends Well, Act ii. Sc. 5.. SHAKESPEARE.

Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, But not expressed in fancy; rich, not gaudy: For the apparel oft proclaims the man. Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

We'll have a swashing and a martial outside. As You Like It, Act i. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

O fair undress, best dress! it checks no vein, But every flowing limb in pleasure drowns, And heightens ease with grace. Castle of Indolence, Canto I. J. THOMSON.

What a fine man Hath your tailor made you! City Madam, Act i. Sc. 2. P. MASSINGER.

Thy gown? why, ay;—come, tailor, let us see't. O mercy, God! what masquing stuff is here? What's this? a sleeve? 'tis like a demi-cannon: What, up and down, carved like an apple-tart? Here's snip and nip and cut and slish and slash, Like to a censer in a barber's shop: Why, what i' devil's name, tailor, callest thou this! Taming of the Shrew, Act iv. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

With silken coats, and caps, and golden rings, With ruffs, and cuffs, and farthingales and things; With scarfs, and fans, and double change of bravery, With amber bracelets, beads, and all this knavery. Taming of the Shrew, Act iv. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

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. The Task, Bk. II. W. COWPER.

Dwellers in huts and in marble halls— From Shepherdess up to Queen— Cared little for bonnets, and less for shawls, And nothing for crinoline. But now simplicity 's not the rage, And it's funny to think how cold The dress they wore in the Golden Age Would seem in the Age of Gold. The Two Ages. H.S. LEIGH.


Or merry swains, who quaff the nut-brown ale, And sing enamored of the nut-brown maid. The Minstrel, Bk. I. J. BEATTIE.

Fill full! Why this is as it should be: here Is my true realm, amidst bright eyes and faces Happy as fair! Here sorrow cannot reach. Sardanapalus, Act iii. Sc. 1. LORD BYRON.

But maistly thee, the bluid o' Scots, Frae Maidenkirk to John o' Grots, The king o' drinks, as I conceive it, Talisker, Isla, or Glenlivet! For after years wi' a pockmantie Frae Zanzibar to Alicante, In mony a fash an' sair affliction I gie 't as my sincere conviction— Of a' their foreign tricks an' pliskies, I maist abominate their whiskies. Nae doot, themsel's, they ken it weel, An' wi' a hash o' leemon peel, An' ice an' siccan filth, they ettle The stawsome kind o' goo to settle; Sic wersh apothecary's broos wi' As Scotsmen scorn to fyle their moo's wi'. The Scotman's Return from Abroad R.L. STEVENSON.

This bottle's the sun of our table, His beams are rosy wine; We planets that are not able, Without his help to shine. The Duenna, Act iii. Sc. 5. R.B. SHERIDAN.

Now to rivulets from the mountains Point the rods of fortune-tellers; Youth perpetual dwells in fountains, Not in flasks, and casks, and cellars. Drinking Song H.W. LONGFELLOW.

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 disordered rest. Solomon, Bk. II. M. PRIOR.

And now, in madness, Being full of supper and distempering draughts, Upon malicious bravery, dost thou come To start my quiet. Othello, Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

He that is drunken.... Is outlawed by himself; all kind of ill Did with his liquor slide into his veins. The Temple: The Church Porch. G. HERBERT.

A drunkard clasp his teeth, and not undo 'em, To suffer wet damnation to run through 'em. The Revenger's Tragedy, Act iii. Sc. 1. C. TOURNEUR.

I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking; So full of valor that they smote the air For breathing in their faces; beat the ground For kissing of their feet. Tempest, Act iv. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

Of my merit On thet point you yourself may jedge; All is, I never drink no sperit, Nor I hain't never signed no pledge. The Biglow Papers, First Series, No. VII. J.R. LOWELL.


So nigh is grandeur to our dust, So near is God to man, When Duty whispers low, Thou must, The youth replies, I can. Voluntaries. R.W. EMERSON.

Not once or twice in our rough island story, The path of duty was the way to glory. Ode: Death of the Duke of Wellington. A. TENNYSON.

When I'm not thanked at all, I'm thanked enough: I've done my duty, and I've done no more. Tom Thumb. H. FIELDING.

And I read the moral—A brave endeavor To do thy duty, whate'er its worth, Is better than life with love forever, And love is the sweetest thing on earth. Sir Hugo's Choice. J.J. ROCHE.


The slender debt to nature's quickly paid, Discharged, perchance, with greater ease than made. Emblems, Bk. II.13. F. QUARLES.

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. Measure for Measure, Act iii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

She thought our good-night kiss was given, And like a lily her life did close; Angels uncurtained that repose, And the next waking dawned in heaven. Ballad of Babe Christabel. G. MASSEY.

So fades a summer cloud away; So sinks the gale when storms are o'er; So gently shuts the eye of day; So dies a wave along the shore. The Death of the Virtuous. MRS. BARBAULD.

Of no distemper, of no blast he died, But fell like autumn fruit that mellowed long; Even wondered at, because he dropt no sooner. Fate seemed 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. OEdipus, Act iv. Sc. 1. J. DRYDEN.


"Christ the Lord is risen to-day," Sons of men and angels say. Raise your joys and triumphs high; Sing, ye heavens, and earth reply. "Christ the Lord is risen to-day." C. WESLEY.

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 passed, Of the one glorious Church the glorious Head. He is Risen. H. BONAR.

Tomb, thou shalt not hold Him longer; Death is strong, but Life is stronger; Stronger than the dark, the light; Stronger than the wrong, the right; Faith and Hope triumphant say Christ will rise on Easter Day. An Easter Carol. PH. BROOKS.

Rise, heart! thy Lord is risen. Sing His praise Without delays Who takes thee by the hand, that thou likewise With Him mayst rise— That as His death calcined thee to dust, His life may make thee gold, and much more just. Easter. G. HERBERT.

Spring bursts to-day, For Christ is risen and all the earth's at play. An Easter Carol. C.G. ROSSETTI.


With crosses, relics, crucifixes, Beads, pictures, rosaries, and pixes; The tools of working out salvation By mere mechanic operation. Hudibras, Pt. III. Canto I. S. BUTLER.

Till Peter's keys some christened Jove adorn, And Pan to Moses lends his pagan horn. The Dunciad, Bk. III. A. POPE.

Christians have burnt each other, quite persuaded That all the Apostles would have done as they did. Don Juan, Canto I. LORD BYRON.

To rest, the cushion and soft dean invite, Who never mentions hell to ears polite. Moral Essays, Epistle IV. A. POPE.

Perverts the Prophets and purloins the Psalms. English Bards and Scotch Reviewers. LORD BYRON.

So shall they build me altars in their zeal, Where knaves shall minister, and fools shall kneel: Where faith may mutter o'er her mystic spell, Written in blood—and Bigotry may swell The sail he spreads for Heaven with blast from hell! Lalla Rookh: The Veiled Prophet of Khorassan. T. MOORE.

In hope to merit heaven by making earth a hell. Childe Harold, Canto I. LORD BYRON.

When pious frauds and holy shifts Are dispensations and gifts. Hudibras, Pt. I. Canto III. S. BUTLER.

Yes,—rather plunge me back in pagan night, And take my chance with Socrates for bliss, Than be the Christian of a faith like this, Which builds on heavenly cant its earthly sway, And in a convert mourns to lose a prey. Intolerance. T. MOORE.

And after hearing what our Church can say, If still our reason runs another way, That private reason 'tis more just to curb, Than by disputes the public peace disturb; For points obscure are of small use to learn, But common quiet is mankind's concern. Religio Laici. J. DRYDEN.


The time will come when every change shall cease, This quick revolving wheel shall rest in peace: No summer then shall glow, nor winter freeze; Nothing shall be to come, and nothing past, But an eternal now shall ever last. The Triumph of Eternity. PETRARCH.

Nothing is there to come, and nothing past, But an eternal now does always last. Davideis, Bk. I. A. COWLEY.

This speck of life in time's great wilderness, This narrow isthmus 'twixt two boundless seas, The past, the future, two eternities! Lalla Rookh; The Veiled Prophet of Khorassan. T. MOORE.

And can eternity belong to me, Poor pensioner on the bounties of an hour? Night Thoughts, Night I. DR. E. YOUNG.

'Tis the divinity that stirs within us; 'Tis heaven itself, that points out an hereafter, And indicates eternity to man. Cato, Act v. Sc. I. J. ADDISON.


Sweet the coming on Of grateful evening mild; then silent night With this her solemn bird and this fair moon, And these the gems of heaven, her starry train. Paradise Lost, Bk. IV. MILTON.

It is the hour when from the boughs The nightingale's high note is heard; It is the hour when lovers' vows Seem sweet in every whispered word. Parisina. LORD BYRON.

O, Twilight! Spirit that doth render birth To dim enchantments, melting heaven with earth, Leaving on craggy hills and running streams A softness like the atmosphere of dreams. Picture of Twilight. MRS. C. NORTON.

Now came still evening on; and twilight gray Had in her sober livery all things clad: Silence accompanied; for beast and bird, They to their grassy couch, these to their nests, Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale. Paradise Lost, Bk. IV. MILTON.

The pale child, Eve, leading her mother, Night. A Life Drama. A. SMITH.

When on the marge of evening the last blue light is broken, And winds of dreamy odor are loosened from afar When on the Marge of Evening. L.I. GUINEY.

When day is done, and clouds are low, And flowers are honey-dew, And Hesper's lamp begins to glow Along the western blue; And homeward wing the turtle-doves, Then comes the hour the poet loves. The Poet's Hour. G. CROLY.

The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks: The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep Moans round with many voices. Ulysses. A. TENNYSON.

The holy time is quiet as a Nun Breathless with adoration. It is a Beauteous Evening. W. WORDSWORTH.


'Tis expectation makes a blessing dear; Heaven were not heaven, if we knew what it were. Against Fruition. SIR J. SUCKLING.

Oft expectation fails, and most oft there Where most it promises; and oft it hits Where hope is coldest, and despair most fits. All's Well that Ends Well, Act ii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

Why wish for more? Wishing, of all employments, is the worst; Philosophy's reverse and health's decay. Night Thoughts, Night IV. DR. E. YOUNG.


A gray eye is a sly eye, And roguish is a brown one; Turn full upon me thy eye,— Ah, how its wavelets drown one! A blue eye is a true eye; Mysterious is a dark one, Which flashes like a spark-sun! A black eye is the best one. Oriental Poetry: Mirza Shaffy on Eyes. W.B. ALGER.

O lovely eyes of azure, Clear as the waters of a brook that run Limpid and laughing in the summer sun! The Masque of Pandora, Pt. I. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

Within her tender eye The heaven of April, with its changing light. The Spirit of Poetry. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

Her two blue windows faintly she up-heaveth, Like the fair sun, when in his fresh array He cheers the morn, and all the earth relieveth; And as the bright sun glorifies the sky, So is her face illumined with her eye. Venus and Adonis. SHAKESPEARE.

Blue eyes shimmer with angel glances, Like spring violets over the lea. October's Song. C.F. WOOLSON.

The harvest of a quiet eye, That broods and sleeps OH his own heart. A Poet Epitaph. W. WORDSWORTH.

Stabbed with a white wench's black eye. Romeo and Juliet, Act ii. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.

Sometimes from her eyes I did receive fair speechless messages. Merchant of Venice, Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

For where is any author in the world Teaches such beauty as a woman's eye? Love's Labor's Lost, Act iv. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

Heart on her lips, and soul within her eyes, Soft as her clime, and sunny as her skies. Beppo. LORD BYRON.

The fringed curtains of thine eye advance. The Tempest, Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

Alas! how little can a moment show Of an eye where feeling plays In ten thousand dewy rays; A face o'er which a thousand shadows go. The Triad. W. WORDSWORTH.


There's no art To find the mind's construction in the face. Macbeth, Act i. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.

Your face, my thane, is a book where men May read strange matters. To beguile the time, Look like the time. Macbeth, Act i. Sc 5. SHAKESPEARE.

Her face so faire, as flesh it seemed not, But heavenly pourtraict of bright angels' hew, Cleare as the skye withouten blame or blot, Through goodly mixture of complexion's dew. Faerie Queene, Canto III. E. SPENSER.

The light upon her face Shines from the windows of another world. Saints only have such faces. Michael Angelo. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

Oh! could you view the melody Of every grace, And music of her face. Orpheus to Beasts. R. LOVELACE.

A countenance more in sorrow than in anger. Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

In each cheek appears a pretty dimple; Love made those hollows; if himself were slain, He might be buried in a tomb so simple; Foreknowing well, if there he came to lie, Why, there Love lived and there he could not die. Venus and Adonis. SHAKESPEARE.

There Affectation, with a sickly mien, Shows in her cheek the roses of eighteen. Rape of the Lock, Canto IV. A. POPE.

Sweet, pouting lips, whose color mocks the rose, Rich, ripe, and teeming with the dew of bliss,— The flower of love's forbidden fruit, which grows Insidiously to tempt us with a kiss. Tasso's Sonnets. R.H. WILDE.

Her face betokened all things dear and good, The light of somewhat yet to come was there Asleep, and waiting for the opening day. Margaret in the Xebec. J. INGELOW. Her face is like the Milky Way i' the sky,— A meeting of gentle lights without a name. Breunoralt. SIR J. SUCKLING.

A face with gladness overspread! Soft smiles, by human kindness bred! To a Highland Girl. W. WORDSWORTH.


They're fairies! he that speaks to them shall die: I'll wink and couch; no man their sports must eye. Merry Wives of Windsor, Act v. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.

This is the fairy land: O, spite of spites! We talk with goblins, owls, and elvish sprites. Comedy of Errors, Act ii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

In silence sad, Trip we after the night's shade: We the globe can compass soon, Swifter than the wand'ring moon. Midsummer Night's Dream, Act iv. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

Fairies, black, gray, green, and white, You moonshine revellers, and shades of night. Merry Wives of Windsor, Act v. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.

Fairies use flowers for their charactery. Merry Wives of Windsor, Act v. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.

"Scarlet leather, sewn together, This will make a shoe. Left, right, pull it tight; Summer days are warm; Underground in winter, Laughing at the storm!" Lay your ear close to the hill, Do you not catch the tiny clamor, Busy click of an elfin hammer, Voice of the Leprecaun singing shrill As he merrily plies his trade? He's a span And quarter in height. Get him in sight, hold him fast, And you're a made Man! The Fairy Shoemaker. W. ALLINGHAM.

Some say no evil thing that walks by night, In fog, or fire, by lake or moorish fen, Blue meagre hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost That breaks his magic chains at curfew time, No goblin, or swart fairy of the mine, Hath hurtful power o'er true virginity. Comus. MILTON.

I took it for a faery vision Of some gay creatures of the element, That in the colors of the rainbow live And play i' th' plighted clouds. Comus. MILTON.

Oft fairy elves, Whose midnight revels by a forest side, Or fountain, some belated peasant sees, Or dreams he sees, while overhead the moon Sits arbitress, and nearer to the earth Wheels her pale course, they on their mirth and dance Intent, with jocund music charm his ear; At once with joy and fear his heart rebounds. Paradise Lost, Bk. I. MILTON.


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 thence. Sonnet: Faith. E.O. SMITH.

Nor less I deem that there are Powers Which of themselves our minds impress; That we can feed this mind of ours In a wise passiveness. Expostulation and Reply. W. WORDSWORTH.

One in whom persuasion and belief Had ripened into faith, and faith become A passionate intuition. The Excursion, B. VII. W. WORDSWORTH.

Faith builds a bridge across the gulf of Death, To break the shock blind nature cannot shun, And lands Thought smoothly on the further shore. Night Thoughts, Night IV. DR. E. YOUNG.

A bending staff I would not break, A feeble faith I would not shake, Nor even rashly pluck away The error which some truth may stay, Whose loss might leave the soul without A shield against the shafts of doubt. Questions of Life. J.G. WHITTIER.

I stretch lame hands of faith, and grope, And gather dust and chaff, and call To what I feel is Lord of all, And faintly trust the larger hope. In Memoriam, LIV. A. TENNYSON.

The Power that led his chosen, by pillared cloud and flame, Through parted sea and desert waste, that Power is still the Same; He fails not—He—the loyal hearts that firm on Him rely; So put your trust in God, my boys, and keep your powder dry.[A] Oliver's Advice. COLONEL W. BLACKER.

[Footnote A: Cromwell, once when his troops were about crossing a river to attack the enemy, concluded an address with these words: "Put your trust in God; but mind to keep your powder dry."]

If faith produce no works, I see That faith is not a living tree. Thus faith and works together grow; No separate life they e'er can know: They're soul and body, hand and heart: What God hath joined, let no man part. Dan and Jane. H. MORE.

Whose faith has centre everywhere, Nor cares to fix itself to form. In Memoriam, XXXIII. A. TENNYSON.

But who with filial confidence inspired, Can lift to Heaven an unpresumptuous eye, And smiling say, My Father made them all. The Task, Bk. V. Winter Morning Walk. W. COWPER.


I give him joy that's awkward at a lie. Night Thoughts, Night VIII. DR. E. YOUNG.

For my part, if a lie may do thee grace, I'll gild it with the happiest terms I have. King Henry IV., Pt. I. Act v. Sc. 4.. SHAKESPEARE.

'Tis as easy as lying. Hamlet, Act iii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

Some truth there was, but dashed and brewed with lies, To please the fools, and puzzle all the wise. Absalom and Achitophel. J. DRYDEN.

That a lie which is half a truth is ever the blackest of lies; That a lie which is all a lie may be met and fought with outright— But a lie which is part a truth is a harder matter to fight. The Grandmother. A. TENNYSON.

Some lie beneath the churchyard stone, And some before the speaker. School and Schoolfellows. W.M. PRAED.

Like one, Who having, unto truth, by telling of it, Made such a sinner of his memory, To credit his own lie. The Tempest, Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.


Fame is the shade of immortality, And in itself a shadow. Soon as caught, Contemned; it shrinks to nothing in the grasp. Night Thoughts, Night VII. DR. E. YOUNG.

And what is Fame? the meanest have their day, The greatest can but blaze, and pass away. First Book of Horace, Epistle VI. A. POPE.

What's Fame? A fancied life in others' breath, A thing beyond us, e'en before our death. Essay on Man, Epistle IV. A. POPE.

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 vapor: 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. Don Juan, Canto I. LORD BYRON.

Her house is all of Echo made Where never dies the sound; And as her brows the clouds invade, Her feet do strike the ground. Fame. B. JONSON.

What shall I do to be forever known, And make the age to come my own? The Motto. A. COWLEY.

The best-concerted schemes men lay for fame Die fast away: only themselves die faster. The far-famed sculptor, and the laurelled bard, Those bold insurancers of deathless fame, Supply their little feeble aids in vain. The Grave. R. BLAIR.

By Jove! I am not covetous for gold;

* * * * *

But, if it be a sin to covet honor, I am the most offending soul alive. King Henry V., Act iv. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

One touch of nature makes the whole world kin,— That all with one consent praise new-born gawds,

* * * * *

And give to dust, that is a little gilt, More laud than gilt o'er-dusted. Troilus and Cressida, Act iii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

Thrice happy he whose name has been well spelt In the despatch: I knew a man whose loss Was printed Grove, although his name was Grose. Don Juan, Canto VIII. LORD BYRON.

Nor Fame I slight, nor for her favors call: She comes unlooked for, if she comes at all.

* * * * *

Unblemished let me live, or die unknown; O grant an honest fame, or grant me none! The Temple of Fame. A. POPE.

It deserves with characters of brass A forted residence 'gainst the tooth of time And razure of oblivion. Measure for Measure, Act v. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

Your name is great In mouths of wisest censure. Othello, Act ii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

Know ye not then, said Satan, filled with scorn,— Know ye not me?

* * * * *

Not to know me argues yourselves unknown, The lowest of your throng. Paradise Lost, Bk. IV. MILTON.

The aspiring youth that fired the Ephesian dome Outlives, in fame, the pious fool that raised it. Shakespeare's King Richard III. (Altered), Act iii. Sc. 1. C. CIBBER.

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; Checked 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! The Minstrel, Bk. I. J. BEATTIE.


This is the very coinage of your brain: This bodiless creation ecstasy Is very cunning in. Hamlet, Act iii. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.

When I could not sleep for cold I had fire enough in my brain, And builded with roofs of gold My beautiful castles in Spain! Aladdin. J.R. LOWELL.

Egeria! sweet creation of some heart Which found no mortal resting-place so fair As thine ideal breast; whate'er thou art Or wert,—a young Aurora of the air, The nympholepsy of some fond despair; Or, it might be, a beauty of the earth, Who found a more than common votary there Too much adoring; whatsoe'er thy birth, Thou wert a beautiful thought, and softly bodied forth. Childe Harold, Canto IV. LORD BYRON.

When at the close of each sad, sorrowing day, Fancy restores what vengeance snatched away. Eloise to Abelard. A. POPE.

We figure to ourselves The thing we like, and then we build it up As chance will have it, on the rock or sand: For Thought is tired of wandering o'er the world, And homebound Fancy runs her bark ashore. Philip Van Artevelde, Pt. I. Act i. Sc. 5. SIR H. TAYLOR.


Farewell! a word that must be, and hath been— A sound which makes us linger;—yet—farewell. Childe Harold, Canto IV. LORD BYRON.

All farewells should be sudden, when forever, Else they make an eternity of moments, And clog the last sad sands of life with tears. Sardanapalus. LORD BYRON.

So sweetly she bade me "Adieu," I thought that she bade me return. A Pastoral. W. SHENSTONE.

He turned him right and round about Upon the Irish shore, And gae his bridle reins a shake, With Adieu for evermore, My dear, With Adieu for evermore. It was a' for our Rightfu' King. R. BURNS.

And so, without more circumstance at all, I hold it fit, that we shake hands and part. Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.

Fare thee well; The elements be kind to thee, and make Thy spirits all of comfort! Antony and Cleopatra, Act iii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

Alas, and farewell! But there's no use in grieving, For life is made up of loving and leaving. Written in an Album. R.W. RAYMOND.


Ill husbandry braggeth To go with the best: Good husbandry baggeth Up gold in his chest. Five Hundred Points of Good Husbandry, Ch. LII. T. TUSSER.

Ye rigid Ploughmen! bear in mind Your labor is for future hours. Advance! spare not! nor look behind! Plough deep and straight with all your powers! The Plough. R.H. HORNE.

Here Ceres' gifts in waving prospect stand, And nodding tempt the joyful reaper's hand. Windsor Forest. A. POPE.

When weary reapers quit the sultry field, And, crowned with corn, their thanks to Ceres yield. Summer. A. POPE.

Heap high the farmer's wintry hoard! Heap high the golden corn! No richer gift has Autumn poured From out her lavish horn! The Corn-Song. J.G. WHITTIER.

The cattle are grazing, Their heads never raising: There are forty feeding like one! The Cock is Crowing. W. WORDSWORTH.


Fashion—a word which knaves and fools may use, Their knavery and folly to excuse. Rosciad. C. CHURCHILL.

The fashion wears out more apparel than the man. Much Ado about Nothing, Act iii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

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. Night Thoughts, Night II. DR. E. YOUNG.

Nothing is thought rare Which is not new, and followed; yet we know That what was worn some twenty years ago Comes into grace again. The Noble Gentleman: Prologue. BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.

I'll be at charges for a looking-glass, And entertain some score or two of tailors, To study fashions to adorn my body. King Richard III., Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

Let's do it after the high Roman fashion. Antony and Cleopatra, Act iv. Sc. 15. SHAKESPEARE.


Success, the mark no mortal wit, Or surest hand, can always hit: For whatsoe'er we perpetrate, We do but row, we're steered by Fate, Which in success oft disinherits, For spurious causes, noblest merits, Hudibras, Pt. I. Canto I. S. BUTLER.

Fate holds the strings, and men like children move But as they're led: success is from above. Heroic Love, Act v. Sc. 1. LORD LANSDOWNE.

Fate steals along with silent tread, Found oftenest in what least we dread; Frowns in the storm with angry brow, But in the sunshine strikes the blow. A Fable: Moral. W. COWPER.

With equal pace, impartial Fate Knocks at the palace, as the cottage gate. Bk. I. Ode IV. HORACE. Trans. of PH. FRANCIS.

Our wills and fates do so contrary run That our devices still are overthrown; Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own. Hamlet, Act iii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

What fates impose, that men must needs abide; It boots not to resist both wind and tide. King Henry VI., Pt. IV. Act iv. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

Heaven from all creatures hides the book of fate, Essay on Man, Epistle I. A. POPE.

Let those deplore their doom, Whose hope still grovels in this dark sojourn: But lofty souls, who look beyond the tomb, Can smile at Fate, and wonder how they mourn. The Minstrel, Bk. I. J. BEATTIE.

No living man can send me to the shades Before my time; no man of woman born, Coward or brave, can shun his destiny. The Iliad, Bk. VI. HOMER. Trans. of BRYANT.

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. All's Well that Ends Well, Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

I'll make assurance doubly sure, And take a bond of Fate. Macbeth, Act iv. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

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. Julius Caesar, Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

Man is his own star, and the soul that can Render an honest and a perfect man Commands all light, all influence, all fate. Nothing to him falls early, or too late. Upon an Honest Man's Fortune. J. FLETCHER.

There's a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will. Hamlet, Act v. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.


Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud; Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun, And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud. All men make faults. Sonnet XXXV. SHAKESPEARE.

Men still had faults, and men will have them still; He that hath none, and lives as angels do, Must be an angel. On Mr. Dryden's Religio Laici. W. DILLON.

Go to your bosom; Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know That's like my brother's fault. Measure for Measure, Act ii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

And oftentimes excusing of a fault Doth make the fault the worse by the excuse, As patches, set upon a little breach, Discredit more in hiding of the fault Than did the fault before it was so patched. King John, Act iv. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

Condemn the fault, and not the actor of it? Why, every fault's condemned ere it be done. Mine were the very cipher of a function, To fine the faults whose fine stands in record, And let go by the actor. Measure for Measure, Act ii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.


Imagination frames events unknown, In wild, fantastic shapes of hideous ruin, And what it fears creates. Belshazaar, Pt. II. H. MORE.

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. Night Thoughts, Night IV. DR. E. YOUNG.

A lamb appears a lion, and we fear Each bash we see's a bear. Emblems, Bk. I.-XIII. F. QUARLES.

Or in the night, imagining some fear, How easy is a bush supposed a bear! Midsummer Night's Dream, Act v. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

His fear was greater than his haste: For fear, though fleeter than the wind, Believes 't is always left behind. Hadibras, Pt. III. Canto III. S. BUTLER.

His flight was madness: when our actions do not, Our fears do make us traitors. Macbeth, Act iv. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

Such a numerous host Fled not in silence through the frighted deep, With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout, Confusion worse confounded. Paradise Lost, Bk. II. MILTON.

Thou tremblest; and the whiteness in thy cheek Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand. King Henry IV., Pt. II. Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

To fear the foe, since fear oppresseth strength, Gives in your weakness strength unto your foe. King Richard II., Act in. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

Fear Stared in her eyes, and chalked her face. The Princess, IV. A. TENNYSON.

Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair And make my seated heart knock at my ribs, Against the use of nature. Present fears Are less than horrible imaginings. Macbeth, Act i. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

LADY MACBETH. Letting I dare not wait upon I would Like the poor cat i' the adage. MACBETH. Prythee. peace: I dare do all that may become a man; Who dares do more, is none. Macbeth, Act i. Sc. 7. SHAKESPEARE.

Tender-handed stroke a nettle, And it stings you for your pains; Grasp it like a man of mettle, And it soft as silk remains. Verses written on a Window in Scotland. A. HILL.

Fain would I climb, yet fear I to fall. Written on a Window Pane. SIR W. RALEIGH.

If thy heart fails thee, climb not at all. Written under the Above. QUEEN ELIZABETH.


Sweet sensibility! thou keen delight! Unprompted moral! sudden sense of right! Sensibility. H. MORE.

Feeling is deep and still; and the word that floats on the surface Is as the tossing buoy, that betrays where the anchor is hidden. Evangeline, Pt. II. Sc. 2. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

'Twere vain to tell thee all I feel, Or say for thee I'd die. 'Twere Vain to Tell. J.A. WADE.

And inasmuch as feeling, the East's gift, Is quick and transient,—comes, and lo! is gone, While Northern thought is slow and durable. Luria, Act v. R. BROWNING.

Great thoughts, great feelings came to them, Like instincts, unawares. The Men of Old. R.M. MILNES, LORD HOUGHTON.


True as the needle to the pole, Or as the dial to the sun. Song. B. BOOTH.

But faithfulness can feed on suffering, And knows no disappointment. Spanish Gypsy, Bk. III. GEORGE ELIOT.

To God, thy countrie, and thy friend be true. Rules and Lessons. H. VAUGHAN.

Statesman, yet friend to truth! of soul sincere, In action faithful, and in honor clear; Who broke no promise, served no private end, Who gained no title, and who lost no friend. Epistle to Mr. Addison. A. POPE.


O scaly, slippery, wet, swift, staring wights, What is 't ye do? what life lead? eh, dull goggles? How do ye vary your vile days and nights? How pass your Sundays? Are ye still but joggles In ceaseless wash? Still nought but gapes and bites, And drinks, and stares, diversified with boggles? Sonnets: The Fish, the Man, and the Spirit. L. HUNT.

Our plenteous streams a various race supply. The bright-eyed perch with fins of Tyrian dye, The silver eel, in shining volumes rolled, The yellow carp, in scales bedropped with gold, Swift trouts, diversified with crimson stains, And pikes, the tyrants of the wat'ry plains. Windsor Forest. A. POPE.


No adulation; 'tis the death of virtue; Who flatters, is of all mankind the lowest Save he who courts the flattery. Daniel. H. MORE.

O, that men's ears should be To counsel deaf, but not to flattery! Timon of Athens, Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

They do abuse the king that flatter him: For flattery is the bellows blows up sin. Pericles, Act i. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

What drink'st thou oft, instead of homage sweet, But poisoned flattery? Henry V., Act iv. Sc 1. SHAKESPEARE.

But flattery never seems absurd; The flattered 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. The Painter who pleased Nobody and Everybody. J. GAY.

'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. Cadenus and Vanessa. J. SWIFT.

He loves to hear That unicorns may be betrayed with trees, And bears with glasses, elephants with holes, Lions with toils, and men with flatterers. But when I tell him he hates flatterers, He says he does, being then most flattered. Julius Caesar, Act ii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

Ne'er Was flattery lost on Poet's ear: A simple race! they waste their toil For the vain tribute of a smile. Lay of the Last Minstrel, Canto IV. SIR W. SCOTT.

Why should the poor be flattered? No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp, And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee, Where thrift may follow fawning. Hamlet, Act iii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

His nature is too noble for the world: He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, Or Jove for 's power to thunder. Coriolanus, Act iii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.


No daintie flowre or herbe that growes on grownd, No arborett with painted blossoms drest And smelling sweete, but there it might be fownd To bud out faire, and throwe her sweete smels al arownd. Faerie Queene, Bk. II. Canto VI. E. SPENSER.

"Small herbs have grace, great weeds do grow apace:" And since, methinks. I would not grow so fast, Because sweet flowers are slow and weeds make haste. King Richard III., Act ii. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.

Ye field flowers! the gardens eclipse you 'tis true: Yet wildings of nature, I dote upon you, For ye waft me to summers of old When the earth teemed around me with fairy delight, And when daisies and buttercups gladdened my sight, Like treasures of silver and gold. Field Flowers. T. CAMPBELL.

Loveliest of lovely things are they On earth that soonest pass away. The rose that lives its little hour Is prized beyond the sculptured flower. Scene on the Banks of the Hudson. W.C. BRYANT.

Sweet is the rose, but grows upon a brere; Sweet is the juniper, but sharp his bough; Sweet is the eglantine, but sticketh here; Sweet is the firbloome, but its braunches rough; Sweet is the cypress, but its rynd is tough; Sweet is the nut, but bitter is his pill; Sweet is the broome-flowre, but yet sowre enough; And sweet is moly, but his root is ill. Amoretti, Sonnet XXVI. E. SPENSER.

And 'tis my faith that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes. Lines written in Early Spring. W. WORDSWORTH.


Daffy-down-dilly came up in the cold, Through the brown mould Although the March breezes blew keen on her face, Although the white snow lay in many a place. Daffy-Down-Dilly. A.B. WARNER.

Darlings of the forest! Blossoming alone When Earth's grief is sorest For her jewels gone— Ere the last snowdrift melts, your tender buds have blown. Trailing Arbutus. R.T. COOKE.

Ring-ting! I wish I were a primrose, A bright yellow primrose blowing in the spring! The stooping boughs above me, The wandering bee to love me, The fern and moss to creep across, And the elm-tree for our king! Wishing: A Child's Song. W. ALLINGHAM.

Mild offspring of a dark and sullen sire! Whose modest form, so delicately fine, Was nursed in whirling storms, And cradled in the winds. Thee when young spring first questioned winter's sway, And dared the sturdy blusterer to the fight, Thee on his bank he threw To mark his victory. To an Early Primrose. H.K. WHITE.

O Proserpina! For the flowers now, that, frighted, thou lett'st fall From Dis's wagon! daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty; violets, dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes, Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses, That die unmarried ere they can behold Bright Phoebus in his strength. The Winter's Tale, Act iv. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

The snowdrop and primrose our woodlands adorn, And violets bathe in the wet o' the morn. My Nannie's Awa'. R. BURNS.

A primrose by a river's brim A yellow primrose was to him. And it was nothing more. Peter Bell. W. WORDSWORTH.

The loveliest flowers the closest cling to earth, And they first feel the sun: so violets blue; So the soft star-like primrose—drenched in dew— The happiest of Spring's happy, fragrant birth. Spring Showers. J. KEBLE.

Primrose-eyes each morning ope In their cool, deep beds of grass; Violets make the air that pass Tell-tales of their fragrant slope. Home and Travel: Ariel in the Cloven Pine. B. TAYLOR.

A spring upon whose brink the anemones And hooded violets and shrinking ferns And tremulous woodland things crowd unafraid, Sure of the refreshing that they always find. Unvisited. M.J. PRESTON.

The modest, lowly violet, In leaves of tender green is set; So rich she cannot hide from view, But covers all the bank with blue. Spring Scatters Far and Wide. D.R. GOODALE.

Oh! faint delicious spring-time violet, Thine odor like a key, Turns noiselessly in memory's wards to let A thought of sorrow free. The Violet. W.W. STORY.

In kindly showers and sunshine bud The branches of the dull gray wood; Out from its sunned and sheltered nooks The blue eye of the violet looks. Mogg Megone, Pt. III. J.G. WHITTIER.

Come for arbutus, my dear, my dear, The pink waxen blossoms are waking, I hear; We'll gather an armful of fragrant wild cheer. Come for arbutus, my dear, my dear, Come for arbutus, my dear. Come for Arbutus. S.L. OBERHOLTZER.

A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye! Fair as a star when only one Is shining in the sky. Lucy. W. WORDSWORTH.

Of all the months that fill the year, Give April's month to me, For earth and sky are then so filled With sweet variety.

The apple blossoms' shower of pearl, Though blent with rosier hue, As beautiful as woman's blush, As evanescent too. Apple Blossoms. L.E. LANDON.

And buttercups are coming, And scarlet columbine, And in the sunny meadows The dandelions shine. Spring. C. THAXTER.


Ah! Bring childhood's flower! The half-blown daisy bring. Flowers for the Heart. J. ELLIOTT.

There is a flower, a little flower With silver crest and golden eye, That welcomes every changing hour, And weathers every sky. A Field Flower. J. MONTGOMERY.

We meet thee, like a pleasant thought, When such are wanted. To the Daisy. W. WORDSWORTH.

Myriads of daisies have shone forth in flower Near the lark's nest, and in their natural hour Have passed away; less happy than the one That, by the unwilling ploughshare, died to prove The tender charm of poetry and love. Poems composed in the Summer of1833. W. WORDSWORTH.

With little here to do or see Of things that in the great world be, Sweet daisy! oft I talk to thee. For thou art worthy, Thou unassuming commonplace Of nature, with that homely face, And yet with something of a grace Which love makes for thee! To the Daisy. W. WORDSWORTH.

Here are sweet peas, on tiptoe for a flight; With wings of gentle flush o'er delicate white, And taper fingers catching at all things, To bind them all about with tiny rings. I Stood Tiptoe Upon a Little Hill. J. KEATS.

All will be gay when noontide wakes anew The buttercups, the little children's dower. Home Thoughts from Abroad. R. BROWNING.

The buttercups, bright-eyed and bold, Held up their chalices of gold To catch the sunshine and the dew. Centennial Poem. J.C.R. DORR.

We bring roses, beautiful fresh roses, Dewy as the morning and colored like the dawn; Little tents of odor, where the bee reposes, Swooning in sweetness of the bed he dreams upon. The New Pastoral, Bk. VII. T.B. READ.

The amorous odors of the moveless air,— Jasmine and tuberose and gillyflower, Carnation, heliotrope, and purpling shower Of Persian roses. The Picture of St. John, Bk. II. B. TAYLOR.

Then will I raise aloft the milk-white rose, With whose sweet smell the air shall be perfumed. King Henry VI., Pt. II. Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

Here eglantine embalmed the air, Hawthorne and hazel mingled there; The primrose pale, and violet flower, Found in each cliff a narrow bower; Foxglove and nightshade, side by side, Emblems of punishment and pride, Grouped their dark hues with every stain The weather-beaten crags retain. The Lady of the Lake, Canto I. SIR W. SCOTT.

Wild-rose, Sweetbriar, Eglantine, All these pretty names are mine, And scent in every leaf is mine, And a leaf for all is mine, And the scent—Oh, that's divine! Happy-sweet and pungent fine, Pure as dew, and picked as wine. Songs and Chorus of the Flowers. L. HUNT.

Roses red and violets blew And all the sweetest flowres that in the forrest grew. Faerie Queene, Bk. III. Canto VI. E. SPENSER.

Oh! roses and lilies are fair to see; But the wild bluebell is the flower for me. The Bluebell. L.A. MEREDITH.

And the stately lilies stand Fair in the silvery light, Like saintly vestals, pale in prayer; Their pure breath sanctifies the air, As its fragrance fills the night. A Red Rose. J.C.R. DORR.

And the Naiad-like lily of the vale, Whom youth makes so fair and passion so pale, That the light of its tremulous bells is seen, Through their pavilions of tender green. The Sensitive Plant. P.B. SHELLEY.

A pure, cool lily, bending Near the rose all flushed and warm. Guonare. E.L. SPROAT.

There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray you, love, remember:—and there is pansies, that's for thoughts. Hamlet, Act iv. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.

Of all the bonny buds that blow In bright or cloudy weather, Of all the flowers that come and go The whole twelve moons together, The little purple pansy brings Thoughts of the sweetest, saddest things. Heart's Ease. M.E. BRADLEY.

I send thee pansies while the year is young, Yellow as sunshine, purple as the night: Flowers of remembrance, ever fondly sung By all the chiefest of the Sons of Light;

* * * * *

Take all the sweetness of a gift unsought, And for the pansies send me back a thought. Pansies. S. DOWDNEY.

I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, Where ox-lips and the nodding violet grows, Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, With sweet musk-roses, and with eglantine. Midsummer Night's Dream, Act ii. Sc. 1.. SHAKESPEARE.

Or o'er the sculptures, quaint and rude, That grace my gloomy solitude, I teach in winding wreaths to stray Fantastic ivy's gadding spray. Retirement. T. WARTON.


The purple asters bloom in crowds In every shady nook, And ladies' eardrops deck the banks Of many a babbling brook. Autumn. E.G. EASTMAN.

Graceful, tossing plume of glowing gold, Waving lonely on the rocky ledge; Leaning seaward, lovely to behold, Clinging to the high cliff's ragged edge. Seaside Goldenrod. C. THAXTER.

The aster greets us as we pass With her faint smile. A Day of Indian Summer. S.H.P. WHITMAN.

Along the river's summer walk, The withered tufts of asters nod; And trembles on its arid stalk The hoar plume of the golden-rod. And on a ground of sombre fir, And azure-studded juniper, The silver birch its buds of purple shows, And scarlet berries tell where bloomed the sweet wild-rose! Last Walk in Autumn. J.G. WHITTIER.


The right to be a cussed fool Is safe from all devices human, It's common (ez a gin'l rule) To every critter born of woman. The Biglow Papers, Second Series, No. 7. J.R. LOWELL.

No creature smarts so little as a fool. Prologue to Satires. A. POPE.

The fool hath planted in his memory An army of good words; and I do know A many fools, that stand in better place, Garnished like him, that for a tricksy word Defy the matter. Merchant of Venice, Act iii. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.

A limbo large and broad, since called The Paradise of fools, to few unknown. Paradise Lost, Bk. III. MILTON.

Who are a little wise the best fools be. The Triple Fool. J. DONNE.

For fools rush in where angels fear to tread. Essay on Criticism, Pt. III. A. POPE.

In idle wishes fools supinely stay; Be there a will, and wisdom finds a way. The Birth of Flattery. G. CRABBE.

This fellow's wise enough to play the fool; And to do that well craves a kind of wit. Twelfth Night, Act iii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

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. Essay on Criticism, Pt. III. A. POPE.


Good to forgive: Best to forget. La Saisiaz: Prologue. R. BROWNING.

We bury love, Forgetfulness grows over it like grass; That is a thing to weep for, not the dead. A Boy's Poem. A. SMITH.

Go, forget me—why should sorrow O'er that brow a shadow fling? Go, forget me—and to-morrow Brightly smile and sweetly sing. Smile—though I shall not be near thee; Sing—though I shall never hear thee. Song: Go, Forget Me! C. WOLFE.

Forgotten? No, we never do forget: We let the years go; wash them clean with tears. Leave them to bleach out in the open day Or lock them careful by, like dead friends' clothes, Till we shall dare unfold them without pain,— But we forget not, never can forget. A Flower of a Day. D.M. MULOCK CRAIK.


Good nature and good sense must ever join; To err is human, to forgive divine. Essay on Criticism, Pt. I. A. POPE.

Forgiveness to the injured does belong; But they ne'er pardon who have done the wrong. Conquest of Granada, Pt. II. Act i. Sc. 2. J. DRYDEN.

Thou whom avenging powers obey, Cancel my debt (too great to pay) Before the sad accounting day. On the Day of Judgment. W. DILLON.

Some write their wrongs in marble: he, more just, Stooped down serene and wrote them in 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 the Almighty eye. Boulter's Monuments. S. MADDEN.

The more we know, the better we forgive; Who'er feels deeply, feels for all who live. Corinne. MADAME DE STAEL.


Fortune, men say, doth give too much to many, But yet she never gave enough to any. Epigrams. SIR J. HARRINGTON.

Are there not, dear Michal, Two points in the adventure of the diver, One—when, a beggar, he prepares to plunge? One—when, a prince, he rises with his pearl? Festus, I plunge. Paracelsus. R. BROWNING.

When Fortune means to men most good, She looks upon them with a threatening eye. King John, Act iii. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.

Fortune in men has some small diff'rence made, One flaunts in rags, one flutters in brocade: The cobbler aproned, and the parson gowned, The friar hooded, and the monarch crowned. Essay on Man, Epistle IV. A. POPE.

Who thinks that fortune cannot change her mind, Prepares a dreadful jest for all mankind. Second Book of Horace, Satire II. A. POPE.

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 are the rich, That have abundance and enjoy it not. K. Henry IV., Pt. II. Act iv. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.

Under heaven's high cope Fortune is god—all you endure and do Depends on circumstance as much as you. Epigrams. From the Greek. P.B. SHELLEY.

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. Julius Caesar, Act iv. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

Prosperity doth bewitch men, seeming clear; As seas do laugh, show white, when rocks are near. White Devil, Act v. Sc. 6. J. WEBSTER.

Oh, how portentous is prosperity! How comet-like, it threatens while it shines. Night Thoughts, Night V. DR. E. YOUNG.

I have set my life up on a cast, And I will stand the hazard of the die. King Richard III., Act v. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.

Blessed 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. Hamlet, Act iii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

There is some soul of goodness in things evil, Would men observingly distil it out. King Henry V., Act iv. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.


Who cometh over the hills, Her garment with morning sweet, The dance of a thousand rills Making music before her feet? Her presence freshens the air, Sunshine steals light from her face. The leaden footstep of Care Leaps to the tune of her pace, Fairness of all that is fair, Grace at the heart of all grace! Sweetener of hut and of hall, Bringer of life put of naught, Freedom, O, fairest of all The daughters of Time and Thought! Ode to Freedom: Centennial Anniversary of the Battle of Concord, April 19, 1875. J.R. LOWELL.

Of old sat Freedom on the heights, The thunders breaking at her feet: Above her shook the starry lights: She heard the torrents meet.

* * * * *

Her open eyes desire the truth. The wisdom of a thousand years Is in them. May perpetual youth Keep dry their light from tears. Of old sat Freedom on the heights. A. TENNYSON.

No. Freedom has a thousand charms to show, That slaves, howe'er contented, never know.

* * * * *

Religion, virtue, truth, whate'er we call A blessing—Freedom is the pledge of all. Table Talk. W. COWPER.

A day, an hour, of virtuous liberty Is worth a whole eternity in bondage. Cato, Act ii. Sc. 1. J. ADDISON.

The love of liberty with life is given, And life itself the inferior gift of Heaven. Polamon and Arcite, Bk. II. J. DRYDEN.

'Tis liberty alone that gives the flower Of fleeting life its lustre and perfume; And we are weeds without it. The Task, Bk. V. W. COWPER.

I must have liberty Withal, as large a charter as the wind, To blow on whom I please. As You Like It, Act ii. Sc. 7. SHAKESPEARE.

That bawl for freedom in their senseless mood, And still revolt when truth would set them free. License they mean, when they cry Liberty; For who loves that must first be wise and good. On the Detraction which followed upon my writing Certain Treatises, II. MILTON.

The traitor to Humanity is the traitor most accursed; Man is more than Constitutions; better rot beneath the sod, Than be true to Church and State while we are doubly false to God. On the Capture of Certain Fugitive Slaves near Washington. J.R. LOWELL.

The sword may pierce the beaver, Stone walls in time may sever; 'T is mind alone, Worth steel and stone, That keeps men free forever. O, the sight entrancing. T. MOORE.

Here the free spirit of mankind, at length, Throws its last fetters off; and who shall place A limit to the giant's unchained strength, Or curb his swiftness in the forward race? The Ages. W.C. BRYANT.

Yet, Freedom! yet thy banner, torn, but flying, Streams like the thunder-storm against the wind. Childe Harold, Canto IV. LORD BYRON.

Freedom needs all her poets; it is they Who give her aspirations wings, And to the wiser law of music sway Her wild imaginings. To the Memory of Hood. J.R. LOWELL.

Free soil, free men, free speech, free press, Fremont and victory! Chorus: Republican Campaign Song, 1856. R.R. RAYMOND.


A ruddy drop of manly blood The surging sea outweighs; The world uncertain comes and goes, The lover rooted stays. Epigraph to friendship. R.W. EMERSON.

Friendship! mysterious cement of the soul! Sweet'ner of life! and solder of society! The Grave. R. BLAIR.

Friendship is the cement of two minds, As of one man the soul and body is; Of which one cannot sever but the other Suffers a needful separation. Revenge. G. CHAPMAN.

A friendship that like love is warm, A love like friendship steady. How Shall I Woo? T. MOORE.

Friendship's the image of Eternity, in which there's nothing Movable, nothing mischievous. Endymion. J. LILLY.

Flowers are lovely; Love is flower-like; Friendship is a sheltering tree; O the Joys, that came down shower-like, Of Friendship, Love, and Liberty, Ere I was old! Youth and Age. S.T. COLERIDGE.

'T is sweet, as year by year we lose Friends out of sight, in faith to muse How grows in Paradise our store. Burial of the Dead. J. KEBLE.

I praise the Frenchman,[A] 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. Retirement. W. COWPER.

[Footnote A: La Bruyere, says Bartlett.]

Friendship's an abstract of love's noble flame, 'Tis love refined, and purged from all its dross, 'Tis next to angel's love, if not the same. Friendship: A Poem. CATH. PHILLIPS.

Heaven gives us friends to bless the present scene; Resumes them, to prepare us for the next. Night Thoughts. DR. E. YOUNG.

A day for toil, an hour for sport, But for a friend is life too short. Considerations by the Way. R.W. EMERSON.

But sweeter none than voice of faithful friend; Sweet always, sweetest heard in loudest storm. Some I remember, and will ne'er forget. Course of Time, Bk, V. R. POLLOK.

A generous friendship no cold medium knows, Burns with one love, with one resentment glows; One should our interests and our passions be, My friend must hate the man that injures me. Iliad, Bk. IX. HOMER. Trans. of POPE.

Nor hope to find A friend, but what has found a friend in thee. Night Thoughts. Night II. DR. E. YOUNG.

Friendship, peculiar boon of Heaven, The noble mind's delight and pride, To men and angels only given, To all the lower world denied. Friendship: An Ode. DR. S. JOHNSON.

Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar: The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel. Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

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 be his own; But he that's too much that is friend to none. Underwood. B. JONSON.

Lay this into your breast: Old friends, like old swords, still are trusted best. Duchess of Malfy. J. WEBSTER.

Talk not of wasted affection, affection never was wasted; If it enrich not the heart of another, its waters, returning Back to their springs, like the rain, shall fill them full of refreshment; That which the fountain sends forth returns again to the fountain. Evangeline. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

True happiness Consists not in the multitude of friends, But in the worth and choice. Cynthia's Revels. B. JONSON.

Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago, If thou but think'st him wronged, and mak'st his ear A stranger to thy thoughts. Othello, Act iii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

Friendship above all ties does bind the heart; And faith in friendship is the noblest part. King Henry V. EARL OF ORRERY.

Be kind to my remains; and O, defend, Against your judgment, your departed friend! Epistle to Congreve. J. DRYDEN.

O summer friendship, Whose flattering leaves, that shadowed us in Our prosperity, with the least gust drop off In the autumn of adversity. The Maid of Honor. P. MASSINGER.

Such is the use and noble end of friendship, To bear a part in every storm of fate. Generous Conqueror. B. HIGGONS.

Friendship, like love, is but a name, Unless to one you stint the flame.

* * * * *

'T is thus in friendships: who depend On many, rarely find a friend. Fables: The Hare and many Friends. J. GAY.

Like summer friends, Flies of estate and sunneshine. The Answer. G. HERBERT.

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. Troilus and Cressida, Act iii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

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. On Friendship. W. COWPER.

Give me the avowed, 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! New Morality. G. CANNING.

Friendship is constant in all other things, Save in the office and affairs of love. Much Ado about Nothing, Act ii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

If I speak to thee in Friendship's name, Thou think'st I speak too coldly; If I mention Love's devoted flame, Thou say'st I speak too boldly. How Shall I Woo? T. MOORE.

Of all our good, of all our bad, This one thing only is of worth, We held the league of heart to heart The only purpose of the earth. More Songs from Vagabondia: Envoy. R. HOVEY.

It's an owercome sooth for age an' youth, And it brooks wi' nae denial, That the dearest friends are the auldest friends And the young are just on trial. Poems: In Scots. R.L. STEVENSON.

For friendship, of itself a holy tie, Is made more sacred by adversity. The Hind and the Panther. J. DRYDEN.

O Friendship, flavor of flowers! O lively sprite of life! O sacred bond of blissful peace, the stalwart staunch of strife. Of Friendship. N. GRIMOALD.


I feel my sinews slacken with the fright, And a cold sweat thrills down o'er all my limbs, As if I were dissolving into water. The Tempest. J. DRYDEN.

But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my prison-house, I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part, And each particular hair to stand on end, Like quills upon the fretful porcupine: But this eternal blazon must not be To ears of flesh and blood. Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.

Silence that dreadful bell: it frights the isle From her propriety. Othello, Act ii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.


Often do the spirits Of great events stride on before the events, And in to-day already walks to-morrow. The Death of Wallenstein. S.T. COLERIDGE.

When I consider life, 't is all a cheat. Yet, fooled with hope, men favor the deceit; Trust on, and think to-morrow will repay: To-morrow's falser than the former day; Lies worse; and, while it says we shall be blest With some new joys, cuts off what we possest. Strange cozenage! none would live past years again. Yet all hope pleasure in what yet remain. Aureng-Zebe; or, The Great Mogul, Act iv. Sc. 1. J. DRYDEN.

As though there were a tie, And obligation to posterity. We get them, bear them breed and nurse. What has posterity done for us, That we, lest they their rights should lose, Should trust our necks to gripe of noose? McFingal, Canto II. J. TRUMBULL.

The best of prophets of the Future is the Past. Letter, Jan. 28, 1821. LORD BYRON.


He is gentil that doth gentil dedis. Canterbury Tales: The Wyf of Bathes Tale. CHAUCER.

The gentle minde by gentle deeds is knowne; For a man by nothing is so well bewrayed As by his manners. Faerie Queene, Bk. VI. Canto IV. E. SPENSER.

Tho' modest, on his unembarrassed brow Nature had written—"Gentleman." Don Juan, Canto IX. LORD BYRON.

I freely told you, all the wealth I had Ran in my veins, I was a gentleman. Merchant of Venice, Act iii, Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

"I am a gentleman." I'll be sworn thou art; Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions and spirit, Do give thee five-fold blazon. Twelfth Night, Act i. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.

Nothing to blush for and nothing to hide, Trust in his character felt far and wide; Be he a noble, or be he in trade, This is the gentleman Nature has made. What is a Gentleman? N.L. O'DONOGHUE.

And thus he bore without abuse The grand old name of gentleman, Defamed by every charlatan, And soiled with all ignoble use. In Memoriam, CX. A. TENNYSON.

His tribe were God Almighty's gentlemen. Absalom and Achitophel. J. DRYDEN.


What beckoning ghost along the moonlight shade Invites my steps and points to yonder glade? To the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady. A. POPE.

What gentle ghost, besprent with April dew, Hails me so solemnly to yonder yew? Elegy on the Lady Jane Pawlet. B. JONSON.

By the apostle Paul, shadows to-night Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard Than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers. King Richard III., Act v. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

And then it started, like a guilty thing Upon a fearful summons. I have heard, The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn, Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat Awake the god of day; and at his warning, Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air, The extravagant and erring spirit hies To his confine. Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

MACBETH. Thou canst not say I did it; never shake Thy gory locks at me.

* * * * *

LADY MACBETH. O proper stuff! This is the very painting of your fear; This is the air-drawn dagger which, you said, Led you to Duncan. MACBETH. Prithee, see there! behold! look! lo! how say you?

* * * * *

The times have been, That, when the brains were out, the man would die, And there an end; but now they rise again, With twenty mortal murders on their crowns, And push us from our stools.

* * * * *

Avaunt! and quit my sight. Let the earth hide thee! Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold; Thou hast no speculation in those eyes, Which thou dost glare with!

* * * * *

Hence, horrible shadow! Unreal mockery, hence! Macbeth, Act iii. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.


Glory is like a circle in the water, Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself Till, by broad spreading, it disperse to nought. Henry VI., Pt. I. Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

Glories, like glow-worms, afar off shine bright, But looked to near have neither heat nor light. The White Devil, Act v. Sc. 1. J. WEBSTER.

We rise in glory, as we sink in pride: Where boasting ends, there dignity begins. Night Thoughts, Night VIII. DR. E. YOUNG.

The glory dies not, and the grief is past. On the Death of Sir Walter Scott. SIR S. BRYDGES.


What is this mighty Breath, ye sages, say, That, in powerful language, felt, not heard, Instructs the fowls of heaven; and through their breast These arts of love diffuses? What, but God? Inspiring God! who, boundless Spirit all, And unremitting Energy, pervades. Adjusts, sustains, and agitates the whole. The Seasons: Spring. J. THOMSON.

The Somewhat which we name but cannot know, Ev'n as we name a star and only see Its quenchless flashings forth, which ever show And ever hide him, and which are not he. Wordsworth's Grave, I. W. WATSON.

A Deity believed, is joy begun; A Deity adored, is joy advanced; A Deity beloved, is joy matured. Each branch of piety delight inspires. Night Thoughts, Night VIII. DR. E. YOUNG.

Thou, my all! My theme! my inspiration! and my crown! My strength in age! my rise in low estate! My soul's ambition, pleasure, wealth!—my world! My light in darkness! and my life in death! My boast through time! bliss through eternity! Eternity, too short to speak thy praise! Or fathom thy profound of love to man! Night Thoughts, Night IV. DR. E. YOUNG. Happy the man who sees a God employed In all the good and ill that checker life. The Task, Bk. II. W. COWPER.

O thou, whose certain eye foresees The fixed event of fate's remote decrees. Odyssey, Bk. IV. HOMER. Trans. of POPE.

From thee, great God, we spring, to thee we tend,— Path, motive, guide, original, and end. The Rambler, No. 7. DR. S. JOHNSON.

Whatever is, is in its causes just. Oedipus, Act. iii. Sc. 1. J. DRYDEN.

He that doth the ravens feed Yea, providently caters for the sparrow, Be comfort to my age! As You Like It, Act. ii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

Who sees with equal eye, as God of all, A hero perished, or a sparrow fall, Atoms or systems into ruin hurled, And now a bubble burst, and now a world. Essay on Man, Epistle I. A. POPE.

Yet I shall temper so Justice with mercy, as may illustrate most Them fully satisfied, and Thee appease. Paradise Lost, Bk. X. MILTON.

God, from a beautiful necessity, is Love. Of Immortality. M.F. TUPPER.

Forth from his dark and lonely hiding-place, (Portentous sight!) the owlet Atheism, Sailing on obscene wings athwart the noon, Drops his blue-fringed lids, and holds them close, And, hooting at the glorious Sun in Heaven, Cries out, "Where is it?" Fears in Solitude. S.T. COLERIDGE.

God sendeth and giveth, both mouth and the meat. Points of Good Husbandry. T. TUSSER.

'T is Providence alone secures In every change both mine and yours. A Fable. W. COWPER.

Give what thou canst, without thee we are poor; And with thee rich, take what thou wilt away. The Task: Winter Morning Walk. W. COWPER.

That God, which ever lives and loves, One God, one law, one element, And one far-off divine event, To which the whole creation moves. In Memoriam; Conclusion. A. TENNYSON.


Who hearkens to the gods, the gods give ear. The Iliad, Bk. I. HOMER. Trans. of BRYANT.

Shakes his ambrosial curls, and gives the nod, The stamp of fate, and sanction of the god. The Iliad, Bk. I. HOMER. Trans. of POPE.

High in the home of the summers, the seats of the happy immortals, Shrouded in knee-deep blaze, unapproachable; there ever youthful Hebe, Harmonie, and the daughter of Jove, Aphrodite Whirled in the white-linked dance, with the gold-crowned Hours and Graces. Andromeda. CH. KINGSLEY.

Or else flushed Ganymede, his rosy thigh Half buried in the eagle's down. Sole as a flying star, shot thro' the sky, Above the pillared town. Palace of Art. A. TENNYSON.

As sweet and musical As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair; And when Love speaks, the voice of all the gods Makes heaven drowsy with the harmony. Love's Labor's Lost, Act iv. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

Who knows not Circe, The daughter of the Sun, whose charmed cup Whoever tasted lost his upright shape, And downward fell into a grovelling swine? Comus. MILTON.

Cupid is a knavish lad, Thus to make poor females mad. Midsummer Night's Dream, Act iii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid: Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms, The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans. Love's Labor's Lost, Act iii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

No wonder Cupid is a murderous boy: A fiery archer making pain his joy. His dam, while fond of Mars, is Vulcan's wife, And thus 'twixt fire and sword divides her life. Greek Anthology. MELEAGER.

The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices Make instruments to plague us. King Lear, Act v. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods? Draw near them then in being merciful; Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge. Titus Andronicus, Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.


What good I see humbly I seek to do, And live obedient to the law, in trust That what will come, and must come, shall come well. The Light of Asia. SIR E. ARNOLD.

There shall never be one lost good! What was shall live as before; The evil is null, is nought, is silence implying sound. Abt Vogler, IX. R. BROWNING.

Now, at a certain time, in pleasant mood, He tried the luxury of doing good. Tales of the Hall, Bk. III. G. CRABBE.

'T is well said again; And 't is a kind of good deed to say well: And yet words are no deeds. King Henry VIII., Act iii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

Look round the habitable world, how few Know their own good, or, knowing it, pursue! Juvenal, Satire X. J. DRYDEN.

These are thy glorious works, Parent of good! Paradise Lost, Bk. V. MILTON.


The still small voice of gratitude. For Music. T. GRAY.

A grateful mind By owing owes not, but still pays, at once Indebted and discharged. Paradise Lost, Bk. IV. MILTON.

I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds With coldness still returning; Alas! the gratitude of men Hath oftener left me mourning. Simon Lee. W. WORDSWORTH.

Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks. Hamlet, Act ii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.


There is a calm for those who weep, A rest for weary pilgrims found, They softly lie and sweetly sleep Low in the ground. The Grave. J. MONTGOMERY.

Ah, the grave's a quiet bed: She shall sleep a pleasant sleep, And the tears that you may shed Will not wake her—therefore weep! The Last Scene. W. WINTER.

O, snatched away in beauty's bloom, On thee shall press no ponderous tomb; But on thy turf shall roses rear Their leaves, the earliest of the year, And the wild cypress wave in tender gloom: O, Snatched Away! LORD BYRON.

Yet shall thy grave with rising flow'rs be dressed. And the green turf lie lightly on thy breast; There shall the morn her earliest tears bestow, There the first roses of the year shall blow. Elegy to the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady. A. POPE.

And from his ashes may be made The violet of his native land. In Memoriam, XVIII. A. TENNYSON.

Sweets to the sweet: farewell, I hoped thou shouldst have been my Hamlet's wife: I thought thy bride-bed to have decked, sweet maid, And not t' have strewed thy grave. Hamlet, Act v. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

How loved, how honored once, avails thee not, To whom related, or by whom begot; A heap of dust alone remains of thee; 'T is all thou art, and all the proud shall be! Elegy to the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady. A. POPE.

Lay her i' the earth; And from her fair and unpolluted flesh May violets spring! Hamlet, Act v. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

Brave Percy, fare thee well! Ill-weaned 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. King Henry VI., Pt. I. Act v. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.

Oft let me range the gloomy aisles alone, Sad luxury! to vulgar minds unknown, Along the walls where speaking marbles show What worthies form the hallowed mould below; Proud names, who once the reins of empire held, In arms who triumphed, or in arts excelled; Chiefs, graced with scars, and prodigal of blood; Stern patriots, who for sacred freedom stood; Just men, by whom impartial laws were given; And saints, who taught and led the way to heaven. On the Death of Mr. Addison. T. TICKELL.

The solitary, silent, solemn scene, Where Caesars, heroes, peasants, hermits lie, Blended in dust together; where the slave Rests from his labors; where th' insulting proud Resigns his powers; the miser drops his hoard: Where human folly sleeps. Ruins of Rome. J. DYER.

Then to the grave I turned me to see what therein lay; 'T was the garment of the Christian, worn out and thrown away. Death and the Christian. F.A. KRUMMACHER.


That man is great, and he alone, Who serves a greatness not his own, For neither praise nor pelf: Content to know and be unknown: Whole in himself. A Great Man. LORD LYTTON (Owen Meredith).

He fought a thousand glorious wars, And more than half the world was his, And somewhere, now, in yonder stars, Can tell, mayhap, what greatness is. The Chronicle of the Drum. W.M. THACKERAY.

Nothing can cover his high fame but heaven; No pyramids set off his memories, But the eternal substance of his greatness,— To which I leave him. The False One, Act ii. Sc. 1. BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.

Greatness on goodness loves to slide, not stand, And leaves, for fortune's ice, vertue's firm land. Turkish History. Under a portrait of Mustapha I. R. KNOLLES.

Such souls, Whose sudden visitations daze the world, Vanish like lightning, but they leave behind A voice that in the distance far away Wakens the slumbering ages. Philip Van Artevelde, Pt. I. Act i. Sc. 7. SIR H. TAYLOR.


Every one can master grief, but he that has it. Much Ado about Nothing, Act iii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

The grief that does not speak Whispers the o'er-fraught heart and bids it break. Macbeth, Act iv. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

No words suffice the secret soul to show, For truth denies all eloquence to woe. The Corsair, Canto III. LORD BYRON.

No greater grief than to remember days Of joy when misery is at hand. Inferno, Canto V. DANTE.

I am not mad;—I would to heaven I were! For then, 'tis like I should forget myself; O, if I could, what grief I should forget! King John, Act iii. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.

Not to the grave, not to the grave, my soul, Follow thy friend beloved! But in the lonely hour, But in the evening walk, Think that he accompanies thy solitude; Think that he holds with thee Mysterious intercourse: And though remembrance wake a tear, There will be joy in grief. The Dead Friend. R. SOUTHEY. HABIT.

Habit with him was all the test of truth; "It must be right: I've done it from my youth." The Borough, Letter III. G. CRABBE.

How use doth breed a habit in a man! This shadowy desert, unfrequented woods, I better brook than flourishing peopled town. Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act v. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.

Hackneyed in business, wearied at that oar, Which thousands, once fast chained to, quit no more. Retirement. W. COWPER.

Small habits, well pursued betimes, May reach the dignity of crimes. Florio, Pt. I. HANNAH MORE.

Ill habits gather by unseen degrees, As brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas. Metamorphoses, Bk. XV. OVID. Trans. of DRYDEN.


Those curious locks so aptly twined, Whose every hair a soul doth bind. To A.L. Persuasions to Love. T. CAREW.

Beware of her fair hair, for she excels All women in the magic of her locks; And when she winds them round a young man's neck, She will not ever set him free again. Faust: Sc. Walpurgis Night. GOETHE. Trans. of SHELLEY.

Her glossy hair was clustered o'er a brow Bright with intelligence, and fair, and smooth. Don Juan, Canto I. LORD BYRON.

It was brown with a golden gloss, Janette, It was finer than silk of the floss, my pet; 'Twas a beautiful mist falling down to your wrist, 'Twas a thing to be braided, and jewelled, and kissed— 'Twas the loveliest hair in the world, my pet. Janette's Hair. C.G. HALPINE (Miles O'Reilly).

As she fled fast through sun and shade, The happy winds upon her played, Blowing the ringlets from the braid. Sir Launcelot and Queen Guinevere. A. TENNYSON.

Come let me pluck that silver hair Which 'mid thy clustering curls I see; The withering type of time or care Has nothing, sure, to do with thee. The Grey Hair. A.A. WATTS.


Without the bed her other fair hand was, On the green coverlet; whose perfect white Showed like an April daisy on the grass, With pearly sweat, resembling dew of night. Lucrece. SHAKESPEARE.

The hand of a woman is often, in youth, Somewhat rough, somewhat red, somewhat graceless, in truth; Does its beauty refine, as its pulses grow calm, Or as sorrow has crossed the life line in the palm? Lucile, Pt. I. Canto III. (Owen Meredith). LORD LYTTON.

They may seize On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand. Romeo and Juliet. Act iii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

As if the world and they were hand and glove. Table Talk. W. COWPER.

With an angry wafture of your hand, Gave sign for me to leave you. Julius Caesar, Act ii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

Then join in hand, brave Americans all; By uniting we stand, by dividing we fall. The Liberty Song (1768). J. DICKINSON.


Fixed to no spot is Happiness sincere: 'Tis nowhere to be found, or ev'ry where; 'Tis never to be bought, but always free. Essay on Man, Epistle IV. A. POPE.

We're charmed with distant views of happiness, But near approaches make the prospect less. Against Enjoyment. T. YALDEN.

For it stirs the blood in an old man's heart: And makes his pulses fly, To catch the thrill of a happy voice, And the light of a pleasant eye. Saturday Afternoon. N.P. WILLIS.

True happiness ne'er entered at an eye; True happiness resides in things unseen. Night Thoughts, Night VIII. DR. E. YOUNG.

Some place the bliss in action, some in ease, Those call it pleasure, and contentment these. Essay on Man, Epistle IV. A. POPE.

The spider's most attenuated thread Is cord, is cable, to man's tender tie On earthly bliss; it breaks at every breeze. Night Thoughts, Night I. DR. E. YOUNG.

The way to bliss lies not on beds of down, And he that had no cross deserves no crown. Esther. F. QUARLES.


Who love too much hate in the like extreme. The Odyssey. HOMER. Trans. of POPE.

These two hated with a hate Found only on the stage. Don Juan, Canto IV. LORD BYRON.

Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned. The Mourning Bride, Act iii. Sc. 8. W. CONGREVE.


Oh, the heart is a free and a fetterless thing,— A wave of the ocean, a bird on the wing. The Captive Greek Girl. J. PARDOE.

His heart was one of those which most enamor us, Wax to receive, and marble to retain. Beppo. LORD BYRON.

There is an evening twilight of the heart, When its wild passion-waves are lulled to rest. Twilight. F-G. HALLECK.

Worse than a bloody hand is a bloody heart. The Cenci, Act v. Sc. 2. P.B. SHELLEY.

Who, for the poor renown of being smart, Would leave a sting within a brother's heart? Love of Fame, Satire II. DR. E. YOUNG.

Nor peace nor ease the heart can know, Which, like the needle true, Turns at the touch of joy or woe, But, turning, trembles too. A Prayer for Indifference. MRS. F.M. GREVILLE.

Here the heart May give a useful lesson to the head, And Learning wiser grow without his books. The Task: Winter Walk at Noon. W. COWPER.

My heart Is true as steel. A Midsummer Night's Dream, Act ii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.


A heart bestowed on heaven alone. The Corsair. LORD BYRON.

If God hath made this world so fair, Where sin and death abound, How beautiful, beyond compare, Will Paradise be found! The Earth Full of God's Goodness. J. MONTGOMERY.

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! Sacred Songs: The world is all a fleeting show. T. MOORE.

Beyond this vale of tears There is a life above, Unmeasured by the flight of years; And all that life is love. The Issues of Life and Death. J. MONTGOMERY.

No, no, I'm sure, My restless spirit never could endure To brood so long upon one luxury, Unless it did, though fearfully, espy A hope beyond the shadow of a dream Endymion, Bk. I. J. KEATS.


'Tis sweet, as year by year we lose Friends out of sight, in faith to muse How grows in Paradise our store. Burial of the Dead. J. KEBLE.

Nor can his blessed soul look down from heaven, Or break the eternal sabbath of his rest. The Spanish Friar, Act v. Sc. 2. J. DRYDEN.

Just are the ways of Heaven; from Heaven proceed The woes of man; Heaven doomed the Greeks to bleed. Odyssey, Bk. VIII. HOMER. Trans. of POPE.

In man's most dark extremity Oft succor dawns from Heaven. The Lord of the Isles, Canto I. SIR W. SCOTT.

The path of sorrow, and that path alone, Leads to the land where sorrow is unknown. To an Afflicted Protestant Lady. W. COWPER.

Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish— Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal. Sacred Songs: Come, ye Disconsolate. T. MOORE.


All hope abandon, ye who enter here. Inferno, Canto III. DANTE.

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 threatening to devour me, opens wide, To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven. Paradise Lost, Bk. IV. MILTON.

Long is the way And hard, that out of hell leads up to light. Paradise Lost, Bk. II. MILTON.

Nor from hell One step no more than from himself can fly By change of place. Paradise Lost, Bk. IV. MILTON.

When all the world dissolves, And every creature shall be purified, All places shall be hell that are not heaven. Faustus. C. MARLOWE.


Heav'n forming each on other to depend, A master, or a servant, or a friend, Bids each on other for assistance call, Till one man's weakness grows the strength of all. Essay on Man, Epistle II. A. POPE.

Small service is true service while it lasts: Of humblest friends, bright creature! scorn not one: The daisy, by the shadow that it casts, Protects the lingering dew-drop from the sun. In a Child's Album. W. WORDSWORTH.

What's gone and what's past help Should be past grief. The Winter's Tale. Act iii. Sc.2. SHAKESPEARE.

Help thyself, and God will help thee. Jaculata Prudentum. G. HERBERT.


The hero is the world-man, in whose heart One passion stands for all, the most indulged. Festus: Proem. P.J. BAILEY.

The hero is not fed on sweets, Daily his own heart he eats; Chambers of the great are jails, And head-winds right for royal sails. Essays: Heroism. R.W. EMERSON.

Unbounded courage and compassion joined, Tempering each other in the victor's mind, Alternately proclaim him good and great, And make the hero and the man complete. The Campaign. J. Addison.

See the conquering hero comes, Sound the trumpet, beat the drums. Orations of Joshua. T. MORELL.

The man that is not moved at what he reads, That takes not fire at their heroic deeds, Unworthy of the blessings of the brave, Is base in kind, and born to be a slave. Table Talk. W. COWPER.


Domestic happiness, thou only bliss Of paradise that has survived the fall! The Task, Bk. III. W. COWPER.

The first sure symptom of a mind in health Is rest of heart, and pleasure felt at home. Night Thoughts, Night VIII. DR. E. YOUNG.

To make a happy fireside clime To weans and wife, That's the true pathos and sublime Of human life. Epistle to Dr. Blacklock. R. BURNS.

For the whole world, without a native home, Is nothing but a prison of larger room. To the Bishop of Lincoln. A. COWLEY.

His native home deep imaged in his soul. Odyssey, Bk. XIII. HOMER. Trans. of POPE.

Stay, stay at home, my heart, and rest; Home-keeping hearts are happiest, For those that wander they know not where Are full of trouble and full of care; To stay at home is best. Song. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

His home, the spot of earth supremely blest, A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest. West Indies, Pt. III. J. MONTGOMERY.

At Christmas play, and make good cheer, For Christmas comes but once a year. The Farmer's Daily Diet. T. TUSSER.

He kept no Christmas-house for once a year: Each day his boards were filled with lordly fare. A Maiden's Dream. R. GREENE.

Alike all ages: dames of ancient days Have led their children through the mirthful maze; And the gay grandsire, skilled in gestic lore, Has frisked beneath the burden of threescore. The Traveller. O. GOLDSMITH.

Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round, And while the bubbling and loud hissing urn

Throws up a steamy column, and the cups, That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each, So let us welcome peaceful evening in. The Task: Winter Evening, Bk, IV. W. COWPER.


True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings; Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings. King Richard III., Act v. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

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 lifeblood of the soul. Art of Preserving Health, Bk. IV. J. ARMSTRONG.

O welcome, pure-eyed Faith, white-handed Hope, Thou hovering angel, girt with golden wings! Comus. MILTON.

Hope! of all ills that men endure, The only cheap and universal cure!

* * * * *

Hope! thou first-fruits of happiness! Thou gentle dawning of a bright success!

* * * * *

Brother of Faith! 'twixt whom and thee The joys of Heaven and Earth divided be! For Hope. A. COWLEY.

Hope! thou nurse of young desire. Love in a Village, Act i. Sc. 1. L. BICKERSTAFF.

Hope, like a cordial, innocent though strong, Man's heart at once inspirits and serenes; Nor makes him pay his wisdom for his joys. Night Thoughts, Night VII. DR. E. YOUNG.

Hope, like the glimm'ring taper's light, Adorns and cheers the way; And still, as darker grows the night, Emits a brighter ray. The Captivity, Act ii. O. GOLDSMITH.

Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought. King Henry IV., Pt. II. Act iv Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.

Cease, every joy, to glimmer on my mind, But leave—oh! leave the light of Hope behind! The Pleasures of Hope, Pt. II. T. CAMPBELL. 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. Essay on Man, Epistle I. A. POPE.

The wretch condemned with life to part, Still, still on hope relies; And every pang that rends the heart Bids expectation rise. The Captivity, Act ii. O. GOLDSMITH.

The miserable have no other medicine, But only hope. Measure for Measure, Act iii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

To hope till hope creates From its own wreck the thing it contemplates. Prometheus. Act iv. P.B. SHELLEY.


I saw young Harry, with his beaver on, His cuisses on his thighs, gallantly armed, Rise from the ground like feathered Mercury, And vaulted with such ease into his seat, As if an angel dropped down from the clouds, To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus, And witch the world with noble horsemanship. King Henry IV., Pt. I. Act iv. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

"Stand, Bayard, stand!" The steed obeyed, With arching neck and bended head, And glancing eye, and quivering ear, As if he loved his lord to hear. No foot Fitz-James in stirrup staid. No grasp upon the saddle laid, But wreathed his left hand in the mane, And lightly bounded from the plain, Turned on the horse his armed heel, And stirred his courage with the steel. Bounded the fiery steed in air, The rider sate erect and fair, Then, like a bolt from steel cross-bow, Forth launched, along the plain they go. The Lady of the Lake, Canto V. SIR W. SCOTT.

After many strains and heaves, He got up to the saddle eaves, From whence he vaulted into the seat With so much vigor, strength, and heat, That he had almost tumbled over With his own weight, but did recover, By laying hold of tail and mane, Which oft he used instead of rein. Hudibras. S. BUTLER.


You must come home with me and be my guest; You will give joy to me, and I will do All that is in my power to honor you. Hymn to Mercury, P.B. SHELLEY.

Sir, you are very welcome to our house: It must appear in other ways than words, Therefore I scant this breathing courtesy. Merchant of Venice, Act v. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

So saying, with despatchful looks in haste She turns, on hospitable thoughts intent. Paradise Lost, Bk. V. MILTON.

This night I hold an old accustomed feast, Whereto I have invited many a guest, Such as I love; and you among the store, One more, most welcome, makes my number more. Romeo and Juliet, Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

The atmosphere Breathes rest and comfort and the many chambers Seem full of welcomes. Masque of Pandora. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast. Comedy of Errors, Act iii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

Oh, better no doubt is a dinner of herbs, When seasoned by love, which no rancor disturbs And sweetened by all that is sweetest in life Than turbot, bisque, ortolans, eaten in strife! Lucile. LORD LYTTON (Owen Meredith).

Now good digestion wait on appetite, And health on both! Macbeth, Act iii. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.

I've often wished that I had clear, For life, six hundred pounds a year, A handsome house to lodge a friend, A river at my garden's end. Imitation of Horace, Bk. II. Sat. 6. J. SWIFT.

True friendship's laws are by this rule exprest, Welcome the coming, speed the parting guest. Odyssey, Bk. XV. HOMER. Trans. of POPE.


Humility, that low, sweet root, From which all heavenly virtues shoot. Loves of the Angels: The Third Angel's Story. T. MOORE.

Content thyself to be obscurely good. When vice prevails, and impious men bear sway, The post of honor is a private station. Cato, Act iv. Sc. 4. J. ADDISON.

In a bondman's key, With 'bated breath, and whisp'ring humbleness. Merchant of Venice, Act i. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

It is the witness still of excellency To put a strange face on his own perfection. Much Ado About Nothing, Act ii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

God hath sworn to lift on high Who sinks himself by true humility. Miscellaneous Poems: At Hooker's Tomb. J. KEBLE.


Soon as Aurora drives away the night, And edges eastern clouds with rosy light, The healthy huntsman, with the cheerful horn, Summons the dogs, and greets the dappled morn. Rural Sports, Canto II. J. GAY.

Together let us beat this ample field, Try what the open, what the covert yield. Essay on Man, Epistle I. A. POPE.

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