The World's Best Poetry — Volume 10
Author: Various
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My hoarse-sounding horn Invites thee to the chase, the sport of kings; Image of war without its guilt. The Chase. W.C. SOMERVILLE.

Contusion hazarding of neck or spine, Which rural gentlemen call sport divine. Needless Alarm. W. COWPER.

My hawk is tired of perch and hood, My idle greyhound loathes his food, My horse is weary of his stall, And I am sick of captive thrall. I wish I were as I have been Hunting the hart in forests green, With bended bow and bloodhound free, For that's the life is meet for me! The Lady of the Lake: Lay of the Imprisoned Huntsman, Canto VI. SIR W. SCOTT.

Oh! what delight can a mortal lack, When he once is firm on his horse's back, With his stirrups short, and his snaffle strong, And the blast of the horn for his morning song! The Hunter's Song. B.W. PROCTER (Barry Cornwall).

See from the brake the whirring pheasant springs, And mounts exulting on triumphant wings; Short is his joy; he feels the fiery wound, Flutters in blood, and panting beats the ground. Windsor Forest. A. POPE.

But as some muskets so contrive it, As oft to miss the mark they drive at, And though well aimed at duck or plover, Bear wide, and kick their owners over. McFingal, Canto I. J. TRUMBULL.


Oh, for a forty-parson power to chant Thy praise, Hypocrisy! Oh, for a hymn Loud as the virtues thou dost loudly vaunt, Not practise! Don Juan, Canto X. LORD BYRON.

For neither man nor angel can discern Hypocrisy, the only evil that walks Invisible, except to God alone, By his permissive will, through heaven and earth. Paradise Lost, Bk. III. MILTON.

Away, and mock the time with fairest show; False face must hide what the false heart doth know. Macbeth, Act i. Sc. 7. SHAKESPEARE.

O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face! Did ever a dragon keep so fair a cave? Romeo and Juliet, Act iii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE. Dissembling courtesy! How fine this tyrant Can tickle where she wounds! Cymbeline, Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

She that asks Her dear five hundred friends, contemns them all, And hates their coming. The Task, Bk. II. W. COWPER.

He seemed For dignity composed and high exploit: But all was false and hollow. Paradise Lost, Bk. II. MILTON.

He was a man Who stole the livery of the court of Heaven To serve the Devil in. Course of Time, Bk. VIII R. POLLOK.

The Devil can cite Scripture for his purpose. An evil soul, producing holy witness, Is like a villain with a smiling cheek, A goodly apple rotten at the heart. O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath! Merchant of Venice, Act i. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

But then I sigh, and with a piece of Scripture Tell them that God bids us do good for evil: And thus I clothe my naked villany With odd old ends stol'n forth of holy writ, And seem a saint when most I play the devil. King Richard III., Act i. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

O villain, villain, smiling damned villain! My tables,—meet it is I set it down, That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain. Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.

That practised falsehood under saintly shew, Deep malice to conceal, couched with revenge. Paradise Lost, Bk. IV. MILTON.

Built God a church, and laughed his word to scorn. Retirement. W. COWPER.

And the devil did grin, for his darling sin Is pride that apes humility. The Devil's Thoughts. S.T. COLERIDGE.

O, what may man within him hide, Though angel on the outward side! Measure for Measure, Act iii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

'Tis too much proved—that with devotion's visage And pious action we do sugar o'er The devil himself. Hamlet, Act iii, Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

I waive the quantum o' the sin, The hazard of concealing: But, och! it hardens a' within, And petrifies the feeling. Epistle to a Young Friend. R. BURNS.


'Tis the voice of the sluggard; I heard him complain, "You have waked me too soon, I must slumber again." The Sluggard. DR. I. WATTS.

Sloth views the towers of fame with envious eyes, Desirous still, still impotent to rise. The Judgment of Hercules. W. SHENSTONE.

Their only labor was to kill the time (And labor dire it is, and weary woe); They sit, they loll, turn o'er some idle rhyme; Then, rising sudden, to the glass they go, Or saunter forth, with tottering step and slow: This soon too rude an exercise they find; Straight on the couch their limbs again they throw, Where hours on hours they sighing lie reclined, And court the vapory god, soft breathing in the wind. The Castle of Indolence, Canto I. J. THOMSON.

Leisure is pain; take off our chariot wheels, How heavily we drag the load of life! Blest leisure is our curse; like that of Cain, It makes us wander, wander earth around To fly that tyrant, thought. Night Thoughts, Night II. DR. E. YOUNG.

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.

The keenest pangs the wretched find Are rapture to the dreary void, The leafless desert of the mind, The waste of feelings unemployed. The Giaour. LORD BYRON.

A lazy lolling sort, Unseen at church, at senate, or at court, Of ever-listless idlers, that attend No cause, no trust, no duty, and no friend. There too, my Paridell! she marked thee there, Stretched on the rack of a too easy chair, And heard thy everlasting yawn confess The pains and penalties of idleness. The Dunciad, Bk. IV. A. POPE.

An idler is a watch that wants both hands; As useless if it goes as if it stands. Retirement. W. COWPER.

There is no remedy for time misspent; No healing for the waste of idleness, Whose very languor is a punishment Heavier than active souls can feel or guess. Sonnet. SIR A. DE VERE.

For Satan finds some mischief still For idle hands to do. Song XX. DR. I. WATTS.


As man, perhaps, the moment of his breath, Receives the lurking principle of death, The young disease, that must subdue at length, Grows with his growth, and strengthens with his strength. Essay on Man, Epistle II. A. POPE.

Diseases desperate grown By desperate appliance are relieved, Or not at all. Hamlet, Act iv. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

So when a raging fever burns, We shift from side to side by turns, And 'tis a poor relief we gain To change the place, but keep the pain. Hymns and Spiritual Songs, Bk. II. Hymn 146. DR. I. WATTS.

Long pains are light ones, Cruel ones are brief! Compensation. J.G. SAXE.

Then with no throbs of fiery pain, No cold gradations of decay, Death broke at once the vital chain, And freed his soul the nearest way. Verses on Robert Levet. DR. S. JOHNSON.


Within the soul a faculty abides, That with interpositions, which would hide And darken, so can deal that they become Contingencies of pomp; and serve to exalt Her native brightness. As the ample moon, In the deep stillness of a summer even Rising behind a thick and lofty grove, Burns, like an unconsuming fire of light, In the green trees; and, kindling on all sides Their leafy umbrage, turns the dusky veil Into a substance glorious as her own. The Excursion, Bk. IV. W. WORDSWORTH.

O for a muse of fire, that would ascend The brightest heaven of invention! King Henry V., Chorus. SHAKESPEARE.

Hark, his hands the lyre explore! Bright eyed Fancy, hovering o'er, Scatters from her pictured urn Thoughts that breathe and words that burn. Progress of Poesy. T. GRAY.

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. T. MOORE.

Of its own beauty is the mind diseased, And fevers into false creation:—where, Where are the forms the sculptor's soul hath seized? In him alone. Can Nature show so fair? Where are the charms and virtues which we dare Conceive in boyhood and pursue as men, The unreached Paradise of our despair, Which o'er-informs the pencil and the pen, And overpowers the page where it would bloom again? Childe Harold, Canto IV. LORD BYRON.

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 home-bound Fancy runs her bark ashore. Philip Van Artevelde, Pt. I, Act i. Sc. 5. SIR H. TAYLOR.

HAMLET. My father,—methinks I see my father. HORATIO. Oh! where, my lord? HAMLET. In my mind's eye, Horatio. Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

Presentiment is that long shadow on the lawn Indicative that suns go down; The notice to the startled grass That darkness is about to pass. Poems. E. DICKINSON.


To be no more—sad cure; for who would lose, Though full of pain, this intellectual being, Those thoughts that wander through eternity, To perish rather, swallowed up and lost In the wide womb of uncreated night, Devoid of sense and motion? Paradise Lost, Bk. II. MILTON.

Death is delightful. Death is dawn, The waking from a weary night Of fevers unto truth and light. Even So. J. MILLER.

No, no! The energy of life may be Kept on after the grave, but not begun; And he who flagged not in the earthly strife, From strength to strength advancing—only he, His soul well-knit, and all his battles won, Mounts, and that hardly, to eternal life. Immortality. M. ARNOLD.

God keeps a niche In Heaven, to hold our idols; and albeit He brake them to our faces, and denied That our close kisses should impair their white,— I know we shall behold them raised, complete, The dust swept from their beauty, glorified, New Memnons singing in the great God-light. Futurity with the Departed. E.B. BROWNING.

The wisest men are glad to die; no fear Of death can touch a true philosopher. Death sets the soul at liberty to fly. Continuation of Lucan. T. MAY.

Alas! for love, if thou art all, And naught beyond, O Earth! The Graves of a Household. MRS. F. HEMANS.

'Tis not the whole of life to live: Nor all of death to die. The Issues of Life and Death. J. MONTGOMERY.

Since heaven's eternal year is thine. Elegy on Mrs. Killegrew. J. DRYDEN.


Look, as I blow this feather from my face, And as the air blows it to me again, Obeying with my wind when I do blow, And yielding to another when it blows, Commanded always by the greater gust; Such is the lightness of you common men. King Henry VI., Pt. III. Act iii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more. Men were deceivers ever; One foot in sea and one on shore; To one thing constant never. Much Ado about Nothing, Act ii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

There is no music in a voice That is but one, and still the same; Inconstancy is but a name To fright poor lovers from a better choice. Shepherd's Holiday. J. RUTTER.

The fraud of men was ever so Since summer first was leafy. Much Ado about Nothing, Act ii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

Love ne'er should die;... One object lost, another should succeed; And all our life be love. Pastorals. T. BROWN.

There are three things a wise man will not trust: The wind, the sunshine of an April day, And woman's plighted faith. Madoc. R. SOUTHEY.

Who trusts himself to woman or to waves Should never hazard what he fears to lose. Governor of Cyprus. J. OLDMIXON.

Away, away—you're all the same, A flattering, smiling, jilting throng! O, by my soul, I burn with shame, To think I've been your slave so long! Song. T. MOORE.

Frailty, thy name is woman! Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

HAMLET.—Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring?

OPHELIA.—'Tis brief, my lord.

HAMLET.—As woman's love. Hamlet, Act iii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

Framed to make women false. Othello, Act i. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

To beguile many, and be beguiled by one. Othello, Act iv. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEAKE.

Or ere those shoes were old With which she followed my poor father's body, Like Niobe, all tears;—why she, even she (O God! a beast that wants discourse of reason Would have mourned longer) married with my uncle, My father's brother. Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

Trust not a man: we are by nature false, Dissembling, subtle, cruel and inconstant; When a man talks of love, with caution hear him; But if he swears, he'll certainly deceive thee. The Orphan. T. OTWAY.

Nay, women are frail too; Ay, as the glasses where they view themselves; Which are as easy broke as they make forms. Measure for Measure, Act ii. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.

In part to blame is she, Which hath without consent bin only tride: He comes too neere that comes to be denide. A Wife. SIR T. OVERBURY.

The heart!—Yes, I wore it As sign and as token Of a love that once gave it, A vow that was spoken; But a love, and a vow, and a heart, Can be broken. Hearts. A.A. PROCTER.

A love that took an early root, And had an early doom. The Devil's Progress. T.K. HERVEY.

Or as one nail by strength drives out another, So the remembrance of my former love Is by a newer object quite forgotten. Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act ii. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.

All love may be expelled by other love, As poisons are by poisons. All for Love. J. DRYDEN.

At lovers' perjuries, They say, Jove laughs. Romeo and Juliet, Act ii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

Fool, not to know that love endures no tie, And Jove but laughs at lovers' perjury. Palamon and Arcite, Bk. II. J. DRYDEN.

They that do change old love for new, Pray gods, they change for worse! The Arraignment of Paris: Cupid's Curse. G. PEELE.

O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, That monthly changes in her circled orb, Lest that thy love prove likewise variable. Romeo and Juliet, Act ii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

To be once in doubt, Is once to be resolved. Othello, Act iii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.


I hate ingratitude more in a man, Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness, Or any taint of vice. Twelfth Night, Act iii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

He that's ungrateful, has no guilt but one; All other crimes may pass for virtues in him. Busiris. DR. E. YOUNG.

Ah, how unjust to Nature and himself Is thoughtless, thankless, inconsistent man! Night Thoughts, Night II. DR. E. YOUNG.

How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is To have a thankless child! King Lear, Act i. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.


Shall I not take mine ease in mine inn? Henry IV., Pt. I. Act iii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

Now musing o'er the changing scene Farmers behind the tavern screen Collect; with elbows idly pressed On hob, reclines the corner's guest, Reading the news to mark again The bankrupt lists or price of grain. Puffing the while his red-tipt pipe He dreams o'er troubles nearly ripe, Yet, winter's leisure to regale, Hopes better times, and sips his ale. The Shepherd's Calendar. J. CLARE.

Souls of poets dead and gone, What Elysium have ye known, Happy field or mossy cavern, Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern? Lines on the Mermaid Tavern. J. KEATS.

Now spurs the lated traveller apace To gain the timely inn. Macbeth, Act iii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

Whoe'er has travelled life's dull round, Where'er his stages may have been, May sigh to think he still has found The warmest welcome at an inn. Written on a Window of an Inn. W. SHENSTONE.


Hence, bashful cunning! And prompt me, plain and holy innocence! Tempest, Act iii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

O, white innocence, That thou shouldst wear the mask of guilt to hide Thine awful and serenest countenance From those who know thee not! The Cenci, Act v. Sc. 3. P.B. SHELLEY.

I never tempted her with word too large; But, as a brother to his sister, showed Bashful sincerity, and comely love. Much Ado about Nothing, Act iv. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

And dallies with the innocence of love. Twelfth Night, Act ii. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.

Zealous, yet modest; innocent, though free; Patient of toil; serene amidst alarms; Inflexible in faith; invincible in arms. The Minstrel, Bk. I. J. BEATTIE.

True, conscious honor is to feel no sin; He's armed without that's innocent within. Imitation of Horace, Epistle 1. Bk. I. A. POPE.


My banks they are furnished with bees, Whose murmur invites one to sleep. A Pastoral Ballad, Pt. II. W. SHENSTONE.

Here their delicious task the fervent bees In swarming millions tend: around, athwart, Through the soft air, the busy nations fly, Cling to the bud, and with inserted tube, Suck its pure essence, its ethereal soul; And oft, with bolder wing, they soaring dare The purple heath, or where the wild thyme grows, And yellow load them with the luscious spoil. The Seasons: Spring. J. THOMSON.

Inebriate of air am I, And debauchee of dew, Reeling, through endless summer days, From inns of molten blue. Poems. E. DICKINSON.

O'er folded blooms On swirls of musk, The beetle booms adown the glooms And bumps along the dusk. The Beetle. J.W. RILEY.

I'd be a butterfly, born in a bower, Where roses and lilies and violets meet. I'd be a Butterfly. T.H. BAYLY.

Rose suddenly a swarm of butterflies, On wings of white and gold and azure fire; And one said: "These are flowers that seek the skies, Loosed by the spell of their supreme desire." Butterflies. C.G.D. ROBERTS.

So, naturalists observe, a flea Has smaller fleas that on him prey; And these have smaller still to bite 'em; And so proceed ad infinitum. Poetry: a Rhapsody. J. SWIFT.

I saw a flie within a beade Of amber cleanly buried. On a Fly buried in Amber. R. HERRICK.

Oh! that the memories which survive us here Were half so lovely as these wings of thine! Pure relics of a blameless life, that shine Now thou art gone. On Finding a Fly Crushed in a Book. C.T. TURNER.

When evening closes Nature's eye, The glow-worm lights her little spark To captivate her favorite fly And tempt the rover through the dark. The Glow-worm. J. MONTGOMERY.

Ye living lamps, by whose dear light The nightingale does sit so late; And studying all the summer night, Her matchless songs does meditate. The Mower to the Glow-worm. A. MARVEL.

Where the katydid works her chromatic reed on the walnut-tree over the well. Leaves of Grass, Pt. XXXVIII. W. WHITMAN.

What gained we, little moth? Thy ashes, Thy one brief parting pang may show: And withering thoughts for soul that dashes, From deep to deep, are but a death more slow. Tragedy of the Night-Moth. T. CARLYLE.

The spider's touch, how exquisitely fine! Feels at each thread, and lives along the line. Essay on Man, Epistle I. A. POPE.

Much like a subtle spider, which doth sit In middle of her web, which spreadeth wide: If aught do touch the utmost thread of it, She feels it instantly on every side. Immortality of the Soul: Feeling. SIR J. DAVIES.


'Tis education forms the common mind: Just as the twig is bent the tree's inclined. Moral Essays, Epistle I. A. POPE.

Men must be taught as if you taught them not, And things unknown proposed as things forgot. Essay on Criticism. A. POPE.

Most wretched men Are cradled into poetry by wrong; They learn in suffering what they teach in song. Julian and Maddalo. P.B. SHELLEY.


Soon shall thy arm, unconquered steam! afar Drag the slow barge, or drive the rapid car; Or on wide waving wings expanded bear The flying-chariot through the field of air. The Botanic Garden, Pt. 1. Ch. I. [1781]. E. DARWIN.

Electric telegraphs, printing, gas, Tobacco, balloons, and steam, Are little events that have come to pass Since the days of the old regime. And, spite of Lempriere's dazzling page, I'd give—though it might seem bold— A hundred years of the Golden Age For a year of the Age of Gold. The Two Ages. H.S. LEIGH.

What cannot art and industry perform, When science plans the progress of their toil! The Minstrel. J. BEATTIE.

For out of the old fieldes, as men saithe, Cometh al this new corne fro yere to yere, And out of old bookes, in good faithe, Cometh al this new science that men lere. The Assembly of Foules. CHAUCER.


O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock The meat it feeds on.... But, O, what damned minutes tells he o'er Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves! Othello, Act iii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

Trifle, light as air, Are to the jealous confirmations strong As proofs of holy writ. Othello, Act iii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

With groundless fear he thus his soul deceives: What phrenzy dictates, jealousy believes. Diome. J. GAY.

Nor jealousy Was understood, the injured lover's hell. Paradise Lost, Bk. V. MILTON.

Good heaven, the souls of all my tribe defend From jealousy! Othello, Act iii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

O jealousy, Thou ugliest fiend of hell! thy deadly venom Preys on my vitals, turns the healthful hue Of my fresh cheek to haggard sallowness, And drinks my spirit up! David and Goliath. H. MORE.

If I shall be condemned Upon surmises, all proofs sleeping else But what your jealousies awake, I tell you, 'Tis rigor, and not law. Winter's Tale, Act iii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

Though I perchance am vicious in my guess, As, I confess, it is my nature's plague To spy into abuses, and oft my jealousy Shapes faults that are not. Othello, Act iii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

But through the heart Should Jealousy its venom once diffuse, 'Tis then delightful misery no more, But agony unmixed, incessant gall, Corroding every thought, and blasting all Love's paradise. The Seasons: Spring. J. THOMSON.


Brightest and best of the sons of the morning! Dawn on our darkness, and lend us thine aid. Epiphany. BISHOP R. HEBER.

He was the Word, that spake it; He took the bread and brake it; And what that Word did make it, I do believe and take it. Divine Poems: On the Sacrament. DR. J. DONNE.

And so the Word had breath, and wrought With human hands the creed of creeds In loveliness of perfect deeds, More strong than all poetic thought. In Memoriam, XXXVI. A. TENNYSON. Some say, that ever 'gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long: And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad; The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike, No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, So hallowed and so gracious is the time, Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

In those holy fields, Over whose acres walked those blessed feet Which fourteen hundred years ago were nailed, For our advantage, on the bitter cross. Henry IV., Pt. I. Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

Lovely was the death Of Him whose life was Love! Holy with power, He on the thought-benighted Skeptic beamed Manifest Godhead. Religious Musings. S.T. COLERIDGE.

But chiefly Thou Whom soft-eyed Pity once led down from Heaven To bleed for man, to teach him how to live, And, oh! still harder lesson! how to die. Death. B. PORTEUS.

One there is above all others, Well deserves the name of Friend! His is love beyond a brother's, Costly, free, and knows no end: They who once his kindness prove, Find it everlasting love! A Friend that Sticketh Closer than a Brother. J. NEWTON.

'Tis done, the great transaction's done; I am my Lord's, and he is mine; He drew me, and I followed on, Charmed to confess the voice divine.

Now rest, my long-divided heart! Fixed on this blissful centre, rest; Oh, who with earth would grudge to part, When called with angels to be blest? Happy Day. P. DODDRIDGE.

Our Friend, our Brother, and our Lord, What may thy service be?— Nor name, nor town, nor ritual word, But simply following thee.

We bring no ghastly holocaust, We pile no graven stone; He serves thee best who loveth most His brothers and thy own. Our Master. J.G. WHITTIER.


These gems have life in them: their colors speak, Say what words fail of. The Spanish Gypsy. GEORGE ELIOT.

If that a pearl may in a toad's head dwell, And may be found too in an oyster shell. Apology for his Book. J. BUNYAN.

Some asked how pearls did grow, and where, Then spoke I to my girle, To part her lips, and showed them there The quarelets of pearl. The Rock of Rubies and the Quarrie of Pearl. R. HERRICK.

The lively Diamond drinks thy purest rays, Collected light, compact. The Seasons: Summer. J. THOMSON.

Like stones of worth, they thinly placed are, Or captain jewels in the carcanet. Sonnet III. SHAKESPEARE.

Than all Bocara's vaunted gold, Than all the gems of Samarcand. A Persian Song of Hafiz. SIR W. JONES.

Rich and rare were the gems she wore, And a bright gold ring on her wand she bore. Song: Rich and Rare. T. MOORE.

I see the jewel best enamelled Will lose his beauty; and the gold 'bides still, That others touch, and often touching will Wear gold. Comedy of Errors, Act ii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.


He comes, the herald of a noisy world, With spattered boots, strapped waist, and frozen locks; News from all nations lumbering at his back. The Task, Bk. IV. W. COWPER.

Trade hardly deems the busy day begun Till his keen eye along the sheet has run; The blooming daughter throws her needle by, And reads her schoolmate's marriage with a sigh; While the grave mother puts her glasses on, And gives a tear to some old crony gone. The preacher, too, his Sunday theme lays down, To know what last new folly fills the town; Lively or sad, life's meanest, mightiest things, The fate of fighting cocks, or fighting kings. Curiosity. C. SPRAGUE.

For evil news rides fast, while good news baits. Samson Agonistes. MILTON.

If there's a hole in a' your coats, I rede ye tent it: A chiel's amang ye takin' notes, And, faith, he'll prent it. On Capt. Grose's Peregrinations Through Scotland. R. BURNS.

A would-be satirist, a hired buffoon, A monthly scribbler of some low lampoon. Condemned to drudge, the meanest of the mean, And furbish falsehoods for a magazine. English Bards and Scotch Reviewers. LORD BYRON.

To serve thy generation, this thy fate: "Written in water," swiftly fades thy name; But he who loves his kind does, first and late, A work too great for fame. The Journalist. MRS. M. CLEMMER A. HUDSON.

This folio of four pages, happy work! Which not e'en critics criticise; that holds Inquisitive attention while I read,

* * * * *

What is it but a map of busy life, Its fluctuations and its vast concerns? 'Tis pleasant, through the loop-holes of retreat, To peep at such a world,—to see the stir Of the great Babel, and not feel the crowd.

* * * * *

While fancy, like the finger of a clock. Runs the great circuit, and is still at home. Winter Evening: The Task, Bk. IV. W. COWPER.

Here shall the Press the People's right maintain, Unawed by influence and unbribed by gain; Here Patriot Truth her glorious precepts draw, Pledged to Religion, Liberty, and Law. Motto of Salem (Mass.) Register. J. STORY.


What though my winged hours of bliss have been, Like angel-visits, few and far between. Pleasures of Hope, Pt. II. T. CAMBPELL

How fading are the joys we dote upon! Like apparitions seen and gone; But those which soonest take their flight Are the most exquisite and strong; Like angels' visits, short and bright, Mortality's too weak to bear them long. The Parting. J. NORRIS.

And these are joys, like beauty, but skin deep. Festus, Sc. A Village Feast. P.J. BAILEY.

Joys too exquisite to last, And yet more exquisite when past. The Little Cloud. J. MONTGOMERY.

The joy late coming late departs. Some Sweet Day. L.J. BATES.

There's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away. Song: There's Not a Joy. LORD BYRON.

Base Envy withers at another's joy, And hates that excellence it cannot reach. The Seasons: Spring. J. THOMSON.

How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown; Within whose circuit is Elysium And all that poets feign of bliss and joy. King Henry VI., Pt. III. Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

Sorrows remembered sweeten present joy. The Course of Time, Bk. I. R. POLLOK.

O stay!—O stay!— Joy so seldom weaves a chain Like this to-night, that, oh! 'tis pain To break its links so soon. Fly Not Yet. T. MOORE.


What is a kiss? Alacke! at worst, A single Dropp to quenche a Thirst, Tho' oft it prooves, in happie Hour, The first swete Dropp of our long Showre. In the Old Time. C.G. LELAND.

I was betrothed that day; I wore a troth kiss on my lips I could not give away. The Lay of the Brown Rosary, Pt. II. E.B. BROWNING.

The kiss you take is paid by that you give: The joy is mutual, and I'm still in debt. Heroic Love, Act v. Sc. 1. LORD LANDSDOWNE.

Give me a kisse, and to that kisse a score; Then to that twenty adde a hundred more; A thousand to that hundred; so kisse on, To make that thousand up a million; Treble that million, and when that is done, Let's kisse afresh, as when we first begun. Hesperides to Anthea. R. HERRICK.

Blush, happy maiden, when you feel The lips which press love's glowing seal; But as the slow years darklier roll, Grown wiser, the experienced soul Will own as dearer far than they The lips which kiss the tears away. Kisses. E. AKERS.

Teach not thy lips such scorn: for they were made For kissing, lady, not for such contempt, Richard III., Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

My lips till then had only known The kiss of mother and of sister, But somehow, full upon her own Sweet, rosy, darling mouth,—I kissed her. The Door-Step. E.C. STEDMAN.

As in the soft and sweet eclipse. When soul meets soul on lover's lips. Prometheus Unbound, Act iv. P.B. SHELLEY.

O Love! O fire! once he drew With one long kiss my whole soul through My lips, as sunlight drinketh dew. Fatima. A. TENNYSON.

A long, long kiss, a kiss of youth and love. Don Juan, Canto II. LORD BYRON.

Was this the face that launched a thousand ships, And burnt the topless towers of Ilium? Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss.— Her lips suck forth my soul; see, where it flies!— Faustus. C. MARLOWE.

I love the sex, and sometimes would reverse The tyrant's wish, "that mankind only had One neck, which he with one fell stroke might pierce;" My wish is quite as wide, but not so bad, And much more tender on the whole than fierce; It being (not now, but only while a lad) That womankind had but one rosy mouth, To kiss them all at once, from North to South. Don Juan, Canto VI. LORD BYRON.

Or ere I could Give him that parting kiss, which I had set Betwixt two charming words, comes in my father And like the tyrannous breathing of the north Shakes all our buds from growing. Cymbeline, Act i. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

Eyes, look your last: Arms, take your last embrace; and lips, O! you, The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss A dateless bargain to engrossing death. Romeo and Juliet, Act v. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.


Knowledge is proud that he has learned so much; Wisdom is humble that he knows no more. The Task, Bk. VI. W. COWPER.

All things I thought I knew; but now confess The more I know I know, I know the less. Works, Bk. VI. J. OWEN.

In vain sedate reflections we would make When half our knowledge we must snatch, not take. Moral Essays, Epistle I. A. POPE.


No man is born into the world whose work Is not born with him. A Glance Behind the Curtain. J.R. LOWELL.

If little labor, little are our gaines: Man's fortunes are according to his paines. Hesperides: No Paines, No Gaines. R. HERRICK.

Who first invented work, and bound the free And holiday-rejoicing spirit down

* * * * *

To that dry drudgery at the desk's dead wood?

* * * * *

Sabbathless Satan! Work. C. LAMB.

It was not by vile loitering in ease That Greece obtained the brighter palm of art, That soft yet ardent Athens learnt to please, To keen the wit, and to sublime the heart, In all supreme! complete in every part! It was not thence majestic Rome arose, And o'er the nations shook her conquering dart: For sluggard's brow the laurel never grows; Renown is not the child of indolent repose. * * * * * Toil, and be glad! let Industry inspire Into your quickened limbs her buoyant breath! Who does not act is dead; absorpt entire In miry sloth, no pride, no joy he hath: O leaden-hearted men to be in love with death! The Castle of Indolence, Canto II. J. THOMSON.

My nature is subdued To what it works in, like the dyer's hand. Sonnet CXI. SHAKESPEARE.

Mechanic slaves With greasy aprons, rules, and hammers. Antony and Cleopatra, Act v. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

How many a rustic Milton has passed by, Stifling the speechless longings of his heart, In unremitting drudgery and care! How many a vulgar Cato has compelled His energies, no longer tameless then, To mould a pin, or fabricate a nail! Queen Mab, Pt. V. P.B. SHELLEY.

If all the year were playing holidays, To sport would be as tedious as to work. King Henry, Pt. I. Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

MACDUFF. I know this is a joyful trouble to you, But yet, 'tis one.

MACBETH. The labor we delight in physics pain. Macbeth. Act ii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

Cheered with the view, man went to till the ground From, whence he rose; sentenced indeed to toil, As to a punishment, yet (even in wrath, So merciful is heaven) this toil became The solace of his woes, the sweet employ Of many a livelong hour, and surest guard Against disease and death. Death. B. PORTEUS.

Like a lackey, from the rise to set, Sweats in the eye of Phoebus, and all night Sleeps in Elysium; next day after dawn Doth rise and help Hyperion to his horse, And follows so the ever-running year With profitable labor to his grave. And, but for ceremony, such a wretch, Winding up days with toil and nights with sleep, Hath the forehand and vantage of a king. King Henry V., Act iv. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

When Adam dolve, and Eve span, Who was then the gentleman? [A] J. BALL.

[Footnote A: Lines used by John Ball, to encourage the rebels in Wat Tyler's rebellion. Hume's History of England, Vol. i.]

Joy to the Toiler!—him that tills The fields with Plenty crowned; Him with the woodman's axe that thrills The wilderness profound. Songs of the Toiler. B. HATHAWAY.


In the corrupted currents of this world Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice, And oft 'tis seen the wicked prize itself Buys out the law: but 'tis not so above; There is no shuffling, there the action lies In his true nature; and we ourselves compelled, Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults, To give in evidence. Hamlet, Act iii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

Press not a falling man too far! 'tis virtue: His faults lie open to the laws; let them, Not you, correct him. Henry VIII., Act iii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

Still you keep o' the windy side of the law. Twelfth Night, Act iii. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.

Between two hawks, which flies the higher pitch, Between two dogs, which hath the deeper mouth, Between two horses, which doth bear him best. Between two girls, which hath the merriest eye, I have, perhaps, some shallow spirit of judgment; But in these nice sharp quillets of the law, Good faith, I am no wiser than a daw. King Henry VI., Pt. I. Act ii. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.

Mastering the lawless science of our law, That codeless myriad of precedent, That wilderness of single instances. Aylmer's Field. A. TENNYSON.

The hungry judges soon the sentence sign, And wretches hang, that jurymen may dine. Rape of the Lock, Canto III. A. POPE.

In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt But, being seasoned with a gracious voice, Obscures the show of evil? Merchant of Venice, Act iii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

So wise, so grave, of so perplexed a tongue And loud withal, that could not wag, nor scarce Lie still, without a fee. Valpone. B. JONSON.

While lawyers have more sober sense Than t' argue at their own expense, But make their best advantages Of others' quarrels, like the Swiss. Hudibras. BUTLER.

All, all look up with reverential awe, At crimes that 'scape, or triumph o'er the law. Epilogue to Satire, Dialogue I. A. POPE.

Once (says an Author; where, I need not say) Two Trav'lers found an Oyster in their way: Both fierce, both hungry; the dispute grew strong, While Scale in hand Dame Justice passed along. Before her each with clamor pleads the Laws. Explained the matter, and would win the cause, Dame Justice weighing long the doubtful Right, Takes, opens, swallows it, before their sight. The cause of strife removed so rarely well, "There take" (says Justice), "take ye each a shell. We thrive at Westminster on Fools like you: 'Twas a fat oyster—live in peace—Adieu." Verbatim from Boileau. A. POPE. We must not make a scarecrow of the law, Setting it up to fear the birds of prey, And let it keep one shape, till custom make it Their perch and not their terror. Measure for Measure, Act ii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

No man e'er felt the halter draw, With good opinion of the law. McFingal, Canto III. J. TRUMBULL.

Who to himself is law, no law doth need, Offends no law, and is a king indeed. Bussy D'Ambois, Act ii. Sc 1. G. CHAPMAN.


A little learning is a dangerous thing; Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring: There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain, And drinking largely sobers us again. Essay on Criticism, Pt. II. A. POPE.

When night hath set her silver lamp on high, Then is the time for study. Festus, Sc. A Village Feast. P.J. BAILEY.

BIRON.—What is the end of Study? let me know. KING.—Why, that to know, which else we should not know. BIRON.—Things hid and barred, you mean, from common sense? KING.—Ay, that is study's godlike recompense. Love's Labor's Lost, Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

No profit grows where is no pleasure ta'en; In brief, sir, study what you most affect. Taming of the Shrew, Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

Some, for renown, on scraps of learning dote, And think they grow immortal as they quote. Love of Fame, Satire I. DR. E. YOUNG.

With just enough of learning to misquote. English Bards and Scotch Reviewers. LORD BYRON.

Whence is thy learning? Hath thy toil O'er books consumed the midnight oil? Fables: The Shepherd and the Philosopher. J. GAY.

And thou art worthy; full of power; As gentle; liberal-minded, great, Consistent; wearing all that weight Of learning lightly like a flower. In Memoriam: Conclusion. A. TENNYSON.

Small have continual plodders ever won, Save base authority from others' books. These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights, That give a name to every fixed star, Have no more profit of their shining nights Than those that walk, and wot not what they are. Love's Labor's Lost, Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

Love seldom haunts the breast where learning lies, And Venus sets ere Mercury can rise. The Wife of Bath: Her Prologue. A. POPE.

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

Learning by study must be won; 'Twas ne'er entailed from son to son. The Pack Horse and Carrier. J. GAY.

Much learning shows how little mortals know; Much wealth, how little worldlings can enjoy. Night Thoughts, Night VI. DR. E. YOUNG.

Were man to live coeval with the sun. The patriarch-pupil would be learning still. Night Thoughts, Night VII. DR. E. YOUNG.


Kind messages, that pass from land to land; Kind letters, that betray the heart's deep history, In which we feel the pressure of a hand,— One touch of fire,—and all the rest is mystery! The Seaside and the Fireside: Dedication. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

Every day brings a ship, Every ship brings a word: Well for those who have no fear, Looking seaward well assured That the word the vessel brings Is the word they wish to hear. Letters. R.W. EMERSON.

And oft the pangs of absence to remove By letters, soft interpreters of love. Henry and Emma. M. PRIOR.

Here are a few of the unpleasant'st words That ever blotted paper! Merchant of Venice, Act iii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

I will touch My mouth unto the leaves, caressingly; And so wilt thou. Thus from these lips of mine My message will go kissingly to thine. With more than Fancy's load of luxury, And prove a true love-letter. Sonnet (With a Letter). J.G. SAXE.

Jove and my stars be praised! Here is yet a postscript. Twelfth Night, Act ii. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.

Go, little letter, apace, apace, Fly; Fly to the light in the valley below— Tell my wish to her dewy blue eye. The Letter. A. TENNYSON.


Let observation, with extensive view, Survey mankind from China to Peru; Remark each anxious toil, each eager strife, And watch the busy scenes of crowded life. The Vanity of Human Wishes. DR. S. JOHNSON.

It matters not how long we live, but how. Festus, Sc. Wood and Water. P.J. BAILEY.

Nor love thy life, nor hate; but what thou liv'st Live well; how long or short permit to heaven. Paradise Lost, Bk, XI. MILTON.

All is concentred in a life intense, Where not a beam, nor air, nor leaf is lost, But hath a part of being. Childe Harold, Canto III. LORD BYRON.

Life for delays and doubts no time does give, None ever yet made haste enough to live. Martial, Liber II. A. COWLEY.

Learn to live well, that thou may'st die so too; To live and die is all we have to do. Of Prudence. SIR J. DENHAM.

"Live, while you live," the epicure would say, "And seize the pleasures of the present day;" "Live while you live," the sacred preacher cries, "And give to God each moment as it flies." "Lord, in my views let both united be; I live in pleasure, when I live to Thee." "Dum vivimus vivamus." (Motto of his Family Arms.) P. DODDRIDGE.

A man's ingress into the world is naked and bare, His progress through the world is trouble and care; And lastly, his egress out of the world, is nobody knows where. If we do well here, we shall do well there; I can tell you no more if I preach a whole year. Eccentricities, Vol. I. J. EDWIN.

A little rule, a little sway, A sunbeam in a winter's day, Is all the proud and mighty have Between the cradle and the grave. Grongar Hill. J. DYER.

So may'st thou live, till like ripe fruit thou drop Into thy mother's lap Paradise Lost, Bk. XI. MILTON.

Sound, sound the clarion, fill the fife! To all the sensual world proclaim, One crowded hour of glorious life Is worth an age without a name. Old Mortality: Chapter Head. SIR W. SCOTT.

Let us (since life can little more supply Than just to look about us, and to die) Expatiate free o'er all this scene of man; A mighty maze! but not without a plan. Essay on Man, Epistle I. A. POPE.

The world's a theatre, the earth a stage Which God and nature do with actors fill. Apology for Actors. T. HEYWOOD.

To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life is but a walking shadow; a poor player. That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more: it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing. Macbeth, Act v. Sc. 5 SHAKESPEARE.

The web of our life is of a mingled Yarn, good and ill together. All's Well that Ends Well, Act iv. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

And what's a life?—a weary pilgrimage, Whose glory in one day doth fill the stage With childhood, manhood, and decrepit age. What is Life? P. QUARLES.

An elegant sufficiency, content, Retirement, rural quiet, friendship, books, Ease and alternate labor, useful life, Progressive virtue, and approving Heaven! The Seasons: Spring. J. THOMSON.

On life's vast ocean diversely we sail, Reason the card, but passion is the gale. Essay on Man, Epistle II. A. POPE.

I cannot tell what you and other men Think of this life; but, for my single self, I had as lief not be as live to be In awe of such a thing as I myself. Julius Caesar, Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

Why, what should be the fear? I do not set my life at a pin's fee. Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.

"Life is not lost," said she, "for which is bought Endlesse renowne." Faerie Queene, Bk. III. Canto XI. E. SPENSER.

Our life is scarce the twinkle of a star In God's eternal day. Autumnal Vespers. B. TAYLOR.

There taught us how to live; and (oh, too high The price for knowledge!) taught us how to die. On the Death of Addison. T. TICKELL.

Our life contains a thousand springs, And dies if one be gone. Strange! that a harp of thousand strings Should keep in tune so long. Hymns and Spiritual Songs. DR. I. WATTS.


For it so falls out That what we have we prize not to the worth, Whiles we enjoy it, but being lacked and lost, Why, then we rack the value, then we find The virtue that possession would not show us Whiles it was ours. Much Ado about Nothing, Act iv. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

But over all things brooding slept The quiet sense of something lost. In Memoriam, LXXVIII. A. TENNYSON.

Praising what is lost Makes the remembrance dear. All's Well that Ends Well, Act v. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

Though lost to sight, to memory dear Thou ever wilt remain; One only hope my heart can cheer, The hope to meet again. Song: Though Lost to Sight. G. LINLEY.

You take my house when you do take the prop That doth sustain my house; you take my life When you do take the means whereby I live. Merchant of Venice, Act iv. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

The loss of wealth is loss of dirt, As sages in all times assert; The happy man's without a shirt. Be Merry, Friends. J. HEYWOOD.

For 'tis a truth well known to most, That whatsoever thing is lost. We seek it, ere it come to light, In every cranny but the right. The Retired Cat. W. COWPER.

Wise men ne'er sit and wail their loss. But cheerly seek how to redress their harms. King Henry VI., Pt. III. Act v. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.


What thing is love?—for (well I wot) love is a thing It is a prick, it is a sting, It is a pretty, pretty thing; It is a fire, it is a coal, Whose flame creeps in at every hole! The Hunting of Cupid. G. PEELE.

O, love, love, love! Love is like a dizziness; It winna let a poor body Gang about his biziness! Love is Like a Dizziness. J. HOGG.

With a smile that glowed Celestial rosy red; love's proper hue. Paradise Lost, Bk. VIII. MILTON.

Love, like death, Levels all ranks, and lays the shepherd's crook Beside the sceptre. Lady of Lyons. E. BULWER-LYTTON.

Didst thou but know the inly touch of love, Thou wouldst as soon go kindle fire with snow, As seek to quench the fire of love with words. Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act ii. Sc. 7. SHAKESPEARE.

There's a bliss beyond all that the minstrel has told, When two, that are linked in one heavenly tie. With heart never changing, and brow never cold. Love on through all ills, and love on till they die! One hour of a passion so sacred is worth Whole ages of heartless and wandering bliss; And O, if there be an Elysium on earth, It is this, it is this. Lalla Rookh: Light of the Harem. T. MOORE.

Love is the tyrant of the heart; it darkens Reason, confounds discretion; deaf to counsel It runs a headlong course to desperate madness. The Lover's Melancholy, Act iii. Sc. 3. J. FORD.

Ask not of me. Love, what is love? Ask what is good of God above; Ask of the great sun what is light; Ask what is darkness of the night; Ask sin of what may be forgiven; Ask what is happiness of heaven; Ask what is folly of the crowd; Ask what is fashion of the shroud; Ask what is sweetness of thy kiss; Ask of thyself what beauty is. Festus, Sc. Party and Entertainment. P.J. BAILEY.

All love is sweet, Given or returned. Common as light is love, And its familiar voice wearies not ever. Prometheus Unbound, Act ii. Sc. 5. P.B. SHELLEY.

Love is a celestial harmony Of likely hearts. Hymn in Honor of Beauty. E. SPENSER.

There's beggary in the love that can be reckoned. Antony and Cleopatra, Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

Like Dian's kiss, unasked, unsought, Love gives itself, but is not bought. Endymion. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

It is not virtue, wisdom, valor, wit, Strength, comeliness of shape, or amplest merit That woman's love can win, or long inherit. But what it is, hard is to say, Harder to hit. Samson Agonistes. MILTON.

Love sought is good, but given unsought is better. Twelfth Night, Act ii. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.

Charms strike the sight, but merit wins the soul. Rape of the Lock, Canto V. A. POPE.

Why did she love him? Curious fool!—be still— Is human love the growth of human will? Lara, Canto II. LORD BYRON.

I know not why I love this youth; and I have heard you say, Love's reason's without reason. Cymbeline, Act iv. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

Love goes toward love as school-boys from their books, But love from love, toward school with heavy looks. Romeo and Juliet, Act ii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

Divine is Love and scorneth worldly pelf, And can be bought with nothing but with self. Love the Only Price of Love. SIR W. RALEIGH.

Love like a shadow flies when substance love pursues; Pursuing that that flies, and flying what pursues. Merry Wives of Windsor, Act ii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

Love, whose month is ever May, Spied a blossom passing fair Playing in the wanton air: Through the velvet leaves the wind, All unseen can passage find; That the lover, sick to death. Wish himself the heaven's breath. Love's Labor's Lost, Act iv. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

Affection is a coal that must be cooled; Else, suffered, it will set the heart on fire. Venus and Adonis. SHAKESPEARE.

In all amours a lover burns. With frowns, as well as smiles, by turns; And hearts have been as oft with sullen, As charming looks, surprised and stolen. Hudibras, Pt. III. Canto I. S. BUTLER.

Mysterious love, uncertain treasure, Hast thou more of pain or pleasure!

* * * * *

Endless torments dwell about thee: Yet who would live, and live without thee! Rosamond, Act iii. Sc. 2. J. ADDISON.

If there's delight in love, 'tis when I see The heart, which others bleed-for, bleed for me. Way of the World, Act iii Sc. 3. W. CONGREVE.

Give, you gods, Give to your boy, your Caesar, The rattle of a globe to play withal, This gewgaw world, and put him cheaply off; I'll not be pleased with less than Cleopatra. All for Love, Act ii. Sc. 1. J. DRYDEN.

Much ado there was, God wot; He woold love, and she woold not, She sayd, "Never man was trewe;" He sayes, "None was false to you." Phillida and Corydon. N. BRETON.

Forty thousand brothers Could not, with all their quantity of love, Make up my sum. Hamlet, Act v. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

Love, then, hath every bliss in store; 'Tis friendship, and 'tis something more. Each other every wish they give; Not to know love is not to live. Plutus, Cupid, and Time. J. GAY.


Sweet to entrance The raptured soul by intermingling glance. Psyche. MRS. M. TIGHE.

Our souls sit close and silently within, And their own web from their own entrails spin; And when eyes meet far off, our sense is such, That, spider-like, we feel the tenderest touch. Marriage a la Mode, Act ii. Sc. 1. J. DRYDEN.

Of all the paths [that] lead to a woman's love Pity's the straightest. Knight of Malta, Act i. Sc. 1. BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.

So mourned the dame of Ephesus her love; And thus the soldier, armed with resolution, Told his soft tale, and was a thriving wooer. Shakespeare's King Richard III. (Altered), Act ii. Sc. 1. C. CIBBER.

The Devil hath not, in all his quiver's choice, An arrow for the heart like a sweet voice. Don Juan, Canto XV. LORD BYRON.

If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully; Or, if thou think'st I am too quickly won, I'll frown, and be perverse, and say thee nay, So thou wilt woo; but, else, not for the world. Romeo and Juliet, Act v. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

Read it, sweet maid, though it be done but slightly: Who can show all his love doth love but lightly. Sonnet. S. DANIEL.

Love first invented verse, and formed the rhyme, The motion measured, harmonized the chime. Cymon and Iphigenia. J. DRYDEN.

And you must love him, ere to you He will seem worthy of your love. A Poet's Epitaph. W. WORDSWORTH.

None without hope e'er loved the brightest fair, But love can hope where reason would despair. Epigram. GEORGE, LORD LYTTELTON.


Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind. Midsummer Night's Dream, Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

None ever loved but at first sight they loved. Blind Beggar of Alexandria. G. CHAPMAN.

We only love where fate ordains we should, And, blindly fond, oft slight superior merit. Fall of Saguntum. PH. FROWDE.

But love is blind, and lovers cannot see The pretty follies that themselves commit. Merchant of Venice, Act ii. Sc. 6. SHAKESPEARE.


And when once the young heart of a maiden is stolen, The maiden herself will steal after it soon. Ill Omens. T. MOORE.

And whispering, "I will ne'er consent,"—consented. Don Juan, Canto I. LORD BYRON.

The fly that sips treacle is lost in the sweets. Beggar's Opera, Act ii. Sc. 2. J. GAY.

There lives within the very flame of love A kind of wick or snuff that will abate it. Hamlet, Act iv. Sc. 7. SHAKESPEARE.

My only books Were woman's looks, And folly's all they've taught me. The time I've lost in wooing. T. MOORE.

Then fly betimes, for only they Conquer Love that run away. Conquest by Flight. T. CAREW.


The rose that all are praising Is not the rose for me; Too many eyes are gazing Upon the costly tree; But there's a rose in yonder glen That shuns the gaze of other men, For me its blossom raising,— O, that's the rose for me. The rose that all are praising. T.H. BAYLY.

But the fruit that can fall without shaking, Indeed is too mellow for me. The Answer. LADY MARY W. MONTAGU.

Love in a hut, with water and a crust, Is—Lord forgive us!—cinders, ashes, dust. Lamia. J. KEATS.

The cold in clime are cold in blood, Their love can scarce deserve the name. The Giaour. LORD BYRON.

Love in your hearts as idly burns As fire in antique Roman urns. Hudibras, Pt. II. Canto I. S. BUTLER.


All the heart was full of feeling: love had ripened into speech, Like the sap that turns to nectar, in the velvet of the peach. Adonais. W.W. HARNEY.

O'er her warm cheek, and rising bosom, move The bloom of young Desire and purple light of Love. Progress of Poesy, L 3. T. GRAY.

Still amorous, and fond, and billing. Like Philip and Mary on a shilling. Hudibras, Pt. III. Canto I. S. BUTLER.

Then awake!—the heavens look bright, my dear! 'Tis never too late for delight, my dear! And the best of all ways To lengthen our days, Is to steal a few hours from the night, my dear! Young May Moon. T. MOORE.

Lovers' hours are long, though seeming short. Venus and Adonis. SHAKESPEARE.

And, touched by her fair tendance, gladlier grew. Paradise Lost, Bk. VIII. MILTON.

Why, she would hang on him, As if increase of appetite had grown By what it fed on. Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

Imparadised in one another's arms. Paradise Lost, Bk. IV. MILTON.

I give thee all—I can no more. Though poor the offering be; My heart and lute are all the store That I can bring to thee. My Heart and Lute. T. MOORE.

I've lived and loved. Wallenstein, Pt. I. Act ii. Sc. 6. S.T. COLERIDGE.


A mighty pain to love it is, And 't is a pain that pain to miss; But of all pains, the greatest pain It is to love, but love in vain. Gold. A. COWLEY.

The sweetest joy, the wildest woe is love; The taint of earth, the odor of the skies Is in it. Festus, Sc. Alcove, and Garden. P.J. BAILEY.

Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure Thrill the deepest notes of woe. On Sensibility. R. BURNS.

Love is like a landscape which doth stand Smooth at a distance, rough at hand. On Love. R. HEGGE.

Vows with so much passion, swears with so much grace, That 't is a kind of heaven to be deluded by him. Alexander the Great, Act i. Sc. 3. N. LEE.

To love you was pleasant enough, And O, 't is delicious to hate you! To —— T. MOORE.


Two souls with but a single thought, Two hearts that beat as one. Ingomar the Barbarian, Act ii. VON M. BELLINGHAUSEN. LOVELL'S Trans.

Our two souls, therefore, which are one, Though I must go, endure not yet A breach, but an expansion, Like gold to airy thinness beat. If they be two, they are two so As stiff twin compasses are two; Thy soul, the fixt foot, makes no show To move, but doth if the other do. And though it in the centre sit, Yet when the other far doth roam, It leans and hearkens after it, And grows erect, as that comes home. Such wilt thou be to me, who must, Like the other foot, obliquely run. Thy firmness makes my circle just, And makes me end where I begun. A Valediction forbidding Mourning. DR. J. DONNE.

True beauty dwells in deep retreats, Whose veil is unremoved Till heart with heart in concord beats, And the lover is beloved. To —— W. WORDSWORTH.

With thee, all toils are sweet; each clime hath charms; Earth—sea alike—our world within our arms. The Bride of Abydos. LORD BYRON.

What's mine is yours, and what is yours is mine. Measure for Measure, Act v. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE. He was a lover of the good old school, Who still become more constant as they cool. Beppo, Canto XXXIV, LORD BYRON.

Drink ye to her that each loves best, And if you nurse a flame That's told but to her mutual breast, We will not ask her name. Drink ye to her. T. CAMPBELL.

FERDINAND.—Here's my hand. MIRANDA.—And mine, with my heart in it. Tempest, Act iii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.


How poor, how rich, how abject, how august, How complicate, how wonderful, is man!

* * * * *

A beam ethereal, sullied, and absorpt! Though sullied and dishonored, still divine! Dim miniature of greatness absolute! An heir of glory! a frail child of dust! Helpless immortal! insect infinite! A worm! a god!

* * * * *

What can preserve my life? or what destroy? An angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave; Legions of angels can't confine me there. Night Thoughts, Night I. DR. E. YOUNG.

Nature they say, doth dote, And cannot make a man Save on some worn-out plan, Repeating as by rote. Commemoration Ode. J.R. LOWELL.

Man is the nobler growth our realms supply, And souls are ripened in our northern sky. The Invitation. MRS. A.L. BARBAULD.

'Tis God gives skill, But not without men's hands: He could not make Antonio Stradivari's violins Without Antonio. Stradivarius. GEORGE ELIOT.

Not two strong men the enormous weight could raise; Such men as live in these degenerate days. Iliad, Bk. V. HOMER. Trans. of POPE.

Be wise with speed: A fool at forty is a fool indeed. Love of Fame, Satire II. DR. E. YOUNG.

What tho' short thy date? Virtue, not rolling suns, the mind matures. That life is long which answers life's great end. The time that bears no fruit deserves no name. The man of wisdom is the man of years. In hoary youth Methusalems may die; O, how misdated on their flatt'ring tombs! Night Thoughts, Night V. DR. E. YOUNG.

Man! Thou pendulum betwixt a smile and tear. Childe Harold, Canto IV. LORD BYRON.

Like leaves on trees the race of man is found, Now green in youth, now withering on the ground: Another race the following spring supplies; They fall successive, and successive rise. Iliad, Bk. VI. HOMER. Trans. of POPE.

Know then thyself, presume not God to scan; The proper study of mankind is man. * * * * * Created half to rise, and half to fall; Great lord of all things, yet a prey to all; Sole judge of truth, in endless error hurled; The glory, jest, and riddle of the world! Essay on Man, Epistle II. A. POPE.


Those graceful acts, Those thousand decencies that daily flow From all her words and actions. Paradise Lost, Bk. VIII. MILTON.

Of manners gentle, of affections mild; In wit a man, simplicity a child.

* * * * *

A safe companion and an easy friend Unblamed through life, lamented in thy end. Epitaph on Gay. A. POPE.

Her air, her manners, all who saw admired; Courteous though coy, and gentle though retired: The joy of youth and health her eyes displayed, And ease of heart her every look conveyed. Parish Register, Pt. II. G. CRABBE.

Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

What would you have? your gentleness shall force More than your force move us to gentleness. As You Like It, Act ii. Sc. 7. SHAKESPEARE.

'Tis not enough your counsel still be true; Blunt truths more mischief than nice falsehoods do. Essay on Criticism, Pt. III. A. POPE.

Fit for the mountains and the barb'rous caves, Where manners ne'er were preached. Twelfth Night, Act iv. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

He was the mildest mannered man That ever scuttled ship or cut a throat. Don Juan, Canto III. LORD BYRON.

Men's evil manners live in brass; their virtues We write in water. King Henry VIII., Act iv. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

Manners with fortunes, humors turn with climes, Tenets with books, and principles with times. Moral Essays, Epistle I. A. POPE.

Plain living and high thinking are no more. The homely beauty of the good old cause Is gone; our peace, our fearful innocence. And pure religion breathing household laws. Written in London, September, 1802. W. WORDSWORTH.

Eye Nature's walks, shoot folly as it flies, And catch the manners living as they rise; Laugh where we must, be candid where we can, But vindicate the ways of God to man. Essay on Man, Epistle I. A. POPE.


True Love is but a humble, low-born thing, And hath its food served up in earthen ware; It is a thing to walk with, hand in hand. Through the every-dayness of this work-day world,

* * * * *

A simple, fireside thing, whose quiet smile Can warm earth's poorest hovel to a home. Love. J.R. LOWELL.

He is the half part of a blessed man, Left to be finished by such as she; And she a fair divided excellence, Whose fulness of perfection lies in him; King John, Act ii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

As unto the bow the cord is, So unto the man is woman; Though she bends him she obeys him; Though she draws him, yet she follows, Useless each without the other! Hiawatha, Pt. X. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

Man is but half without woman; and As do idolaters their heavenly gods, We deify the things that we adore. Festus. P.J. BAILEY.

Let still the woman take An elder than herself: so wears she to him, So sways she level in her husband's heart, For, boy, however we do praise ourselves, Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, More longing, wavering, sooner lost and won, Than women's are.

* * * * *

Then let thy love be younger than thyself, Or thy affection cannot hold the bent. Twelfth Night, Act ii. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.

Such duty as the subject owes the prince, Even such a woman oweth to her husband. Taming of the Shrew, Act v. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

And truant husband should return, and say. "My dear, I was the first who came away." Don Juan, Canto I. LORD BYRON.

With thee conversing I forget all time; All seasons and their change, all please alike.

* * * * *

But neither breath of morn when she ascends With charm of earliest birds, nor rising sun On this delightful land, nor herb, fruit, flower, Glistering with dew, nor fragrance after showers, Nor grateful evening mild, nor silent night With this her solemn bird, nor walk by moon, Or glittering starlight, without thee is sweet. Paradise Lost, Bk. IV. MILTON.

So loving to my mother. That he might not beteem the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly. Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

Dear as the vital warmth that feeds my life; Dear as these eyes, that weep in fondness o'er thee. Venice Preserved, Act v. Sc. 1. T. OTWAY.

Maidens like moths are ever caught by glare. And Mammon wins his way where seraphs might despair. English Bards and Scotch Reviewers. LORD BYRON.

So, with decorum all things carry'd; Miss frowned, and blushed, and then was—married. The Double Transformation. O. GOLDSMITH.

For talk six times with the same single lady, And you may get the wedding dresses ready. Don Juan, Canto XII. LORD BYRON.

Why don't the men propose, mamma, Why don't the men propose? Why don't the man propose? T.H. BAYLY.

There swims no goose so gray, but soon or late She finds some honest gander for her mate. Chaucer's Wife of Bath: Prologue. A. POPE.

Under this window in stormy weather I marry this mail and woman together; Let none but Him who rules the thunder Put this man and woman asunder. Marriage Service from his Chamber Window. J. SWIFT.

This house is to be let for life or years; Her rent is sorrow, and her income tears; Cupid, 't has long stood void; her bills make known. She must be dearly let, or let alone. Emblems, Bk. II. 10 F. QUARLES.

Look ere thou leap, see ere thou go. Of Wiving and Thriving. T. TUSSER.

Thus grief still treads upon the heels of pleasure; Married in haste, we may repent at leisure. The Old Bachelor, Act v. Sc. 1. W. CONGREVE.

Men are April when they woo, December when they wed. As You Like It, Act iv. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

And oft the careless find it to their cost, The lover in the husband may be lost. Advice to a Lady. LORD LYTTELTON.

Wedlock, indeed, hath oft compared been To public feasts, where meet a public rout, Where they that are without would fain go in, And they that are within would fain go out. Contention betwixt a Wife, etc. SIR J. DAVIES.

O fie upon this single life! forego it. Duchess of Malfy. J. WEBSTER.

1. That man must lead a happy life 2. Who is directed by a wife; 3. Who's free from matrimonial chains 4. Is sure to suffer for his pains.

5. Adam could find no solid peace 6. Till he beheld a woman's face; 7. When Eve was given for a mate, 8. Adam was in a happy state. Epigram on Matrimony: Read alternate lines,—1, 3; 2, 4; 5, 7; 6, 8.

The kindest and the happiest pair Will find occasion to forbear; And something every day they live To pity and perhaps forgive. Mutual Forbearance. W. COWPER.

But happy they, the happiest of their kind! Whom gentler stars unite, and in one fate Their hearts, their fortunes, and their beings blend. Seasons: Spring. J. THOMSON.

And when with envy Time, transported, Shall think to rob us of our joys, You'll in your girls again be courted, And I'll go wooing in my boys. Winifreda. T. PERCY.

Cling closer, closer, life to life, Cling closer, heart to heart; The time will come, my own wed Wife, When you and I must part! Let nothing break our band but Death, For in the world above 'Tis the breaker Death that soldereth Our ring of Wedded Love. On a Wedding Day. G. MASSEY.


You tell your doctor, that y' are ill; And what does he, but write a bill? Of which you need not read one letter; The worse the scrawl, the dose the better, For if you knew but what you take, Though you recover, he must break. Alma, Canto III. M. PRIOR.

But when ill indeed, E'en dismissing the doctor don't always succeed. Lodgings for Single Gentlemen. G. COLEMAN, the Younger.

"Is there no hope?" the sick man said. The silent doctor shook his head And took his leave with signs of sorrow, Despairing of his fee to-morrow. The Sick Man and the Angel. J. GAY.

I do remember an apothecary.

* * * * *

Sharp misery had worn him to the bones: And in his needy shop a tortoise hung, An alligator stuffed, and other skins Of ill-shaped fishes; and about his shelves A beggarly account of empty boxes. Romeo and Juliet, Act v. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

With us ther was a Doctour of Phisik, In al this world ne was ther non him lyk To speke of phisik and of surgerye.

* * * * *

He knew the cause of every maladye, Were it of hoot or colde, or moyste or drye, And wher engendered and of what humour; He was a verrey parfight practisour. Canterbury Tales: Prologue. CHAUCER.

'T is not amiss, ere ye're giv'n o'er. To try one desp'rate med'cine more; For where your case can be no worse, The desp'rat'st is the wisest course. Hudibras to Sidrophel. S. BUTLER.

Take a little rum, The less you take the better, Pour it in the lakes Of Wener or of Wetter.

Dip a spoonful out And mind you don't get groggy, Pour it in the lake Of Winnipissiogie.

Stir the mixture well Lest it prove inferior, Then put half a drop Into Lake Superior.

Every other day Take a drop in water, You'll be better soon— Or at least you oughter. Lines on Homoeopathy. BISHOP G.W. DOANE.

By medicine life may be prolonged, yet death Will seize the doctor too. Cymbeline, Act v. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.


Melancholy Is not, as you conceive, indisposition Of body, but the mind's disease. The Lover's Melancholy, Act iii. Sc. 1. J. FORD.

Go—you may call it madness, folly, You shall not chase my gloom away. There's such a charm in melancholy, I would not, if I could, be gay! To —— S. ROGERS.

There is a mood (I sing not to the vacant and the young), There is a kindly mood of melancholy That wings the soul and points her to the skies. Ruins of Rome. J. DYER.


And, when the stream Which overflowed the soul was passed away, A consciousness remained that it had left, Deposited upon the silent shore Of memory, images and precious thoughts That shall not die, and cannot be destroyed. The Excursion, Bk. VII. W. WORDSWORTH.

I cannot but remember such things were, That were most precious to me. Macbeth, Act iv. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

This memory brightens o'er the past, As when the sun concealed Behind some cloud that near us hangs, Shines on a distant field. A Gleam of Sunshine. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

I count myself in nothing else so happy As in a soul rememb'ring my good friends; And, as my fortune ripens with thy love, It shall be still thy true love's recompense. Richard II., Act ii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

The sweet remembrance of the just Shall flourish when he sleeps in dust. Psalm CXII. TATE AND BRADY.

When he shall hear she died upon his words, Th' idea of her life shall sweetly creep Into his study of imagination, And every lovely organ of her life Shall come apparelled in more precious habit, More moving-delicate, and full of life, Into the eye and prospect of his soul, Than when she lived indeed. Much Ado about Nothing, Act iv. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

Thou, thou alone, shall dwell forever. And still shall recollection trace In fancy's mirror, ever near, Each smile, each tear, upon that face— Though lost to sight, to memory dear. Though Lost to Sight, to Memory Dear. T. MOORE.

Joy's recollection is no longer joy, While sorrow's memory is a sorrow still. Doge of Venice. LORD BYRON.

Of joys departed, Not to return, how painful the remembrance! The Grave. R. BLAIR.

He that is strucken blind cannot forget The precious treasure of his eyesight lost. Romeo and Juliet, Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

Oh, how cruelly sweet are the echoes that start When Memory plays an old tune on the heart! Old Dobbin. R. COOK.

What peaceful hours I once enjoyed! How sweet their memory still! But they have left an aching void The world can never fill. Walking with God. W. COWPER.

While memory holds a seat In this distracted globe. Remember thee? Yea, from the table of my memory I'll wipe away all trivial fond records, All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past, That youth and observation copied there; And thy commandment all alone shall live Within the book and volume of my brain. Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.

The leaves of memory seem to make A mournful rustling in the dark. The Fire of Driftwood. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

My memory now is but the tomb of joys long past. The Giaour. LORD BYRON.

Remembrance and reflection how allied! What thin partitions sense from thought divide! Essay on Man, Epistle I. A. POPE.

And memory, like a drop that night and day Falls cold and ceaseless, wore my heart away! Lalla Rookh. T. MOORE.

Of all affliction taught the lover yet, 'T is sure the hardest science to forget. Eloisa to Abelard. A. POPE.

Ere such a soul regains its peaceful state, How often must it love, how often hate. How often hope, despair, resent, regret, Conceal, disdain,—do all things but forget. Eloisa to Abelard. A. POPE.

To live with them is far less sweet Than to remember thee! I saw thy form. T. MOORE.

The heart hath its own memory, like the mind And in it are enshrined The precious keepsakes, into which is wrought The giver's loving thought. From my Arm-chair. H.W. LONGFELLOW.


The quality of mercy is not strained,— It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath: it is twice blessed,— It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes:

'T is mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown; His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings: But mercy is above this sceptred sway,— It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, It is an attribute to God himself; And earthly power doth then show likest God's, When mercy seasons justice....

We do pray for mercy; And that same prayer doth teach us all to render The deeds of mercy. Merchant of Venice, Act iv. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

Who will not mercie unto others show, How can he mercie ever hope to have? Faerie Queene, Bk. VI. Canto I. E. SPENSER.

No ceremony that to great ones 'longs, Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword, The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe, Become them with one half so good a grace As mercy does. Measure for Measure. Act ii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge. Titus Andronicus, Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

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


Gold that buys health can never be ill spent, Nor hours laid out in harmless merriment. Westward Ho, Act v. Sc. 3. J. WEBSTER.

Merrily, merrily, shall I live now Under the blossom that hangs on the bough. Tempest, Act v. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

The glad circles round them yield their souls To festive mirth, and wit that knows no gall. The Seasons: Summer. J. THOMSON.

As merry as the day is long. Much Ado about Nothing, Act ii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

And frame your mind to mirth and merriment, Which bars a thousand harms and lengthens life. Taming of the Shrew: Induction, Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

A merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal. His eye begets occasion for his wit. For every object that the one doth catch, The other turns to a mirth-loving jest. Love's Labor's Lost, Act ii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

Jog on, jog, on the footpath way, And merrily hent the stile-a: A merry heart goes all the day, Your sad tires in a mile-a. The Winter's Tale, Act iv. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

Care to our coffin adds a nail, no doubt, And every grin, so merry, draws one out. Expostulatory Odes, XV. DR. J. WOLCOTT (Peter Pindar).

And yet, methinks, the older that one grows, Inclines us more to laugh than scold, tho' laughter Leaves us so doubly serious shortly after. Beppo. LORD BYRON.

There's not a string attuned to mirth But has its chord in melancholy. Ode to Melancholy. T. HOOD.

Low gurgling laughter, as sweet As the swallow's song i' the South, And a ripple of dimples that, dancing, meet By the curves of a perfect mouth. Ariel. P.H. HAYNE.

Fight Virtue's cause, stand up in Wit's defence, Win us from vice and laugh us into sense. On the Prospect of Peace. T. TICKELL.

Let me play the fool; With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come; And let my liver rather heat with wine, Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. Why should a man whose blood is warm within, Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster? Sleep when he wakes? and creep into the jaundice By being peevish? Merchant of Venice, Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.


We had not walked But for Tradition; we walk evermore To higher paths by brightening Reason's lamp. Spanish Gypsy, Bk. II. GEORGE ELIOT.

He that of such a height hath built his mind, And reared the dwelling of his thoughts so strong, As neither fear nor hope can shake the frame Of his resolved powers; nor all the wind Of vanity or malice pierce to wrong His settled peace, or to disturb the same; What a fair seat hath he, from whence he may The boundless wastes and wilds of man survey?

* * * * *

Unless above himself he can Erect himself, how poor a thing is man! To the Countess of Cumberland. S. DANIEL.

The mind is its own place, and in itself Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven. Paradise Lost, Bk. I. MILTON.

Sure, He that made us with such large discourse, Looking before and after, gave us not That capability and godlike reason, To fust in us unused. Hamlet, Act iv. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.

How rarely reason guides the stubborn choice, Rules the bold hand, or prompts the suppliant voice. The Vanity of Human Wishes. DR. S. JOHNSON.

How small, of all that human hearts endure, That part which laws or kings can cause or cure! Still to ourselves in every place consigned, Our own felicity we make or find. With secret course, which no loud storms annoy, Glides the smooth current of domestic joy. Lines added to Goldsmith's Traveller. DR. S. JOHNSON.

Now see that noble and most sovereign reason, Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh. Hamlet, Act iii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

Measure your mind's height by the shade it casts! Paracelsus. R. BROWNING.

Were I so tall to reach the pole, Or grasp the ocean with my span, I must be measured by my soul: The mind's the standard of the man. Horae Lyricae, Bk. II.: False Greatness. DR. I. WATTS.

Who reasons wisely is not therefore wise; His pride in reasoning, not in acting, lies. Moral Essays, Epistle I. A. POPE.

While Reason drew the plan, the Heart informed The moral page and Fancy lent it grace. Liberty, Pt. IV. J. THOMSON.

Minds that have nothing to confer Find little to perceive. Yes! Thou art fair. WORDSWORTH.

Cried, "'T is resolved, for Nature pleads that he Should only rule who most resembles me. Shadwell alone my perfect image bears, Mature in dulness from his tender years; Shadwell alone of all my sons is he Who stands confirmed in full stupidity. The rest to some faint meaning make pretence, But Shadwell never deviates into sense. Some beams of wit on other souls may fall, Strike through and make a lucid interval; But Shadwell's genuine night admits no ray." Mac Flecknoe. J. DRYDEN.


Onward, ye men of prayer! Scatter in rich exuberance the seed, Whose fruit is living bread, and all your need Will God supply; his harvest ye shall share.

Seek ye the far-off isle; The sullied jewel of the deep, O'er whose remembered beauty angels weep, Restore its lustre and to God give spoil. Missionaries. W.B. TAPPAN.

When they reach the land of strangers, And the prospect dark appears, Nothing seen but toils and dangers, Nothing felt but doubts and fears; Be thou with them! Hear their sighs, and count their tears. Departing Missionaries. T. KELLY.

Shall we, whose souls are lighted With wisdom from on high, Shall we to men benighted The Lamp of life deny? Salvation! O Salvation! The joyful sound proclaim, Till earth's remotest nation Has learned Messiah's name. From Greenland's Icy Mountains. BISHOP R. HEBER.

Blest river of salvation, Pursue thy onward way; Flow thou to every nation, Nor in thy richness stay: Stay not till all the lowly Triumphant reach their home; Stay not till all the holy Proclaim, "The Lord is come!" Success of the Gospel. S.F. SMITH.

Nor shall thy spreading gospel rest, Till through the world thy truth has run: Till Christ has all the nations blessed That see the light, or feel the sun. God's Word and Works. DR. I. WATTS.


Reason's whole pleasure, all the joys of sense, Lie in three words,—health, peace, and competence. Rut health consists with temperance alone. And peace, O Virtue! peace is all thine own. Essay on Man, Epistle IV. A. POPE.

These violent delights have violent ends, And in their triumph die; like fire and powder, Which as they kiss consume.

* * * * *

Therefore love moderately; long love doth so; Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. Romeo and Juliet, Act ii. Sc. SHAKESPEARE.

They surfeited with honey; and began To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little More than a little is by much too much. King Henry IV., Pt. I. Act iii. Sc2. SHAKESPEARE.

And for my means. I'll husband them so well They shall go far with little. Hamlet, Act iv. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.

He that holds fast the golden mean, And lives contentedly between The little and the great, Feels not the wants that pinch the poor, Nor plagues that haunt the rich man's door. Translation of Horace, Bk. II. Ode X. W. COWPER.

Take this at least, this last advice, my son: Keep a stiff rein, and move but gently on: The coursers of themselves will run too fast, Your art must be to moderate their haste. Metamorphoses: Phaeton, Bk. II. OVID. Trans. of ADDISON.

Have more than thou showest, Speak less than thou knowest, Lend less than thou owest, Ride more than thou goest, Learn more than thou trowest, Set less than thou throwest. King Lear, Act i. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.


The night is come, but not too soon; And sinking silently, All silently, the little moon Drops down behind the sky. The Light of Stars. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

See yonder fire! it is the moon Slow rising o'er the eastern hill. It glimmers on the forest tips, And through the dewy foliage drips In little rivulets of light, And makes the heart in love with night. Christus: The Golden Legend, Pt. VI. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

How like a queen comes forth the lonely Moon From the slow opening curtains of the clouds; Walking in beauty to her midnight throne! Diana. G. CROLY.

The Moon arose: she shone upon the lake, Which lay one smooth expanse of silver light; She shone upon the hills and rocks, and cast Upon their hollows and their hidden glens A blacker depth of shade. Madoc, Pt. II. R. SOUTHEY.

No rest—no dark. Hour after hour that passionless bright face Climbs up the desolate blue. Moon-struck. D.M. MULOCK CRAIK.

Mother of light! how fairly dost thou go Over those hoary crests, divinely led! Art thou that huntress of the silver bow Fabled of old? Or rather dost thou tread Those cloudy summits thence to gaze below, Like the wild chamois from her Alpine snow, Where hunters never climbed—secure from dread? Ode to the Moon. T. HOOD.

And thou didst shine, thou rolling moon, upon All this, and cast a wide and tender light, Which softened down the hoar austerity Of rugged desolation, and filled up, As 't were anew, the gaps of centuries, Leaving that beautiful which still was so, And making that which was not, till the place Became religion, and the heart ran o'er With silent worship of the great of old!— The dead, but sceptred sovereigns, who still rule Our spirits from their urns. Manfred, Act iii. Sc. 4 (The Coliseum). LORD BYRON.

When the moon shone, we did not see the candle; So doth the greater glory dim the less. Merchant of Venice, Act v. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

The moon looks On many brooks, "The brook can see no moon but this." While gazing on the moon's light. T. MOORE.

I see them on their winding way. Above their ranks the moonbeams play.

* * * * *

And waving arms and banners bright Are glancing in the mellow light. Lines written to a March. BISHOP R. HEBER.

The devil's in the moon for mischief; they Who called her chaste, methinks, began too soon Their nomenclature; there is not a day, The longest, not the twenty-first of June, Sees half the business in a wicked way. On which three single hours of moonshine smile— And then she looks so modest all the while! Don Juan. Canto I. LORD BYRON.

Faery 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. Paradise Lost, Bk. I. MILTON.

Day glimmered in the east, and the white Moon Hung like a vapor in the cloudless sky. Italy: Lake of Geneva. S. ROGERS.


But soft! methinks I scent the morning air. Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.

The glow-worm shows the matin to be near, And 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire. Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.

Look, the gentle day, Before the wheels of Phoebus, roundabout, Dapples the drowsy east with spots of gray. Much Ado about Nothing, Act v. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

Till morning fair Came forth with pilgrim steps in amice gray. Paradise Regained, Bk. IV. MILTON.

The gray-eyed morn smiles on the frowning night, Checkering the eastern clouds with streaks of light. Romeo and Juliet, Act ii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

Clothing the palpable and familiar With golden exhalations of the dawn. The Death of Wallenstein, Act i. Sc. 1. S.T. COLERIDGE.

Night wanes,—the vapors round the mountains curled Melt into morn, and light awakes the world. Lara. LORD BYRON.

Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain-tops. Romeo and Juliet, Act iii. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.

Night's sun was driving His golden-haired horses up; Over the eastern firths High flashed their manes. The Longbeard's Saga. C. KINGSLEY.

Slow buds the pink dawn like a rose From out night's gray and cloudy sheath; Softly and still it grows and grows, Petal by petal, leaf by leaf. The Morning Comes Before the Sun. S.C. WOOLSEY (Susan Coolidge).

The charm dissolves apace, And as the morning steals upon the night, Melting the darkness, so their rising senses Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle Their clearer reason. Tempest, Act v. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

An hour before the worshipped sun Peered forth the golden window of the east. Romeo and Juliet, Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

The morn is up again, the dewy morn, With breath all incense, and with cheek all bloom, Laughing the clouds away with playful scorn, And living as if earth contained no tomb,— And glowing into day. Childe Harold, Canto III. LORD BYRON.

Hail, gentle dawn! mild blushing goddess, hail! Rejoiced I see thy purple mantle spread O'er half the skies, gems pave thy radiant way, And orient pearls from ev'ry shrub depend. The Chase, Bk. II. W.C. SOMERVILLE.

Morn in the white wake of the morning star Came furrowing all the orient into gold. The Princess. A. TENNYSON.

The meek-eyed Morn appears, mother of dews. The Seasons: Summer. J. THOMSON.

Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet With charms of earliest birds; pleasant the sun, When first on this delightful land he spreads His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower, Glistering with dew. Paradise Lost, Bk. IV. MILTON.

This morning, like the spirit of a youth That means to be of note, begins betimes. Antony and Cleopatra, Act iv. So. 4. SHAKESPEARE.

Morn, Waked by the circling hours, with rosy hand Unbarred the gates of light. Paradise Lost, Bk. VI. MILTON.

Now morn, her rosy steps in the eastern clime Advancing, sowed the earth with orient pearl, When Adam waked, so customed, for his sleep Was aery-light, from pure digestion bred. Paradise Lost, Bk. V. MILTON.

At last, the golden orientall gate Of greatest heaven gan to open fayre, And Phoebus, fresh as brydegrome to his mate. Came dauncing forth, shaking his dewie hayre; And hurls his glistring beams through gloomy ayre. Faerie Queene, Bk. I. Canto V. E. SPENSER.

But yonder comes the powerful King of Day Rejoicing in the east. The Seasons: Summer. J. THOMSON.

'Tis always morning somewhere in the world, And Eos rises, circling constantly The varied regions of mankind. No pause Of renovation and of freshening rays She knows. Orion, Bk. III. Canto III. R.H. HORNE.


The only love which, on this teeming earth, Asks no return for passion's wayward birth. The Dream. HON. MRS. NORTON.

A mother's love,—how sweet the name! What is a mother's love?— A noble, pure and tender flame. Enkindled from above. To bless a heart of earthly mould; The warmest love that can grow cold;— This is a mother's love. A Mother's Love. J. MONTGOMERY.

Hath he set bounds between their love and me? I am their mother; who shall bar me from them? King Richard III., Act iv. Sc.1. SHAKESPEARE.

The poor wren, The most diminutive of birds, will fight, Her young ones in her nest, against the owl. Macbeth, Act iv. Sc.2. SHAKESPEARE.

Where yet was ever found a mother Who'd give her booby for another? Fables: The Mother, the Nurse, and the Fairy, J. GAY.

Women know The way to rear up children (to be just); They know a simple, merry, tender knack Of tying sashes, fitting baby-shoes, And stringing pretty words that make no sense, And kissing full sense into empty words: Which things are corals to cut life upon, Although such trifles. Aurora Leigh, Bk. I. E.B. BROWNING.

They say that man is mighty. He governs land and sea, He wields a mighty scepter O'er lesser powers that be; But a mightier power and stronger Man from his throne has hurled, For the hand that rocks the cradle Is the hand that rules the world. What Rules the World. W.R. WALLACE.

Who ran to help me when I fell, And would some pretty story tell, Or kiss the place to make it well? My mother. My Mother. JANE TAYLOR.

Happy he With such a mother! faith in womankind Beats with his blood, and trust in all things high Comes easy to him, and though he trip and fall, He shall not blind his soul with clay. The Princess, Canto VII. A. TENNYSON.

A mother is a mother still, The holiest thing alive. The Three Graces. S.T. COLERIDGE.


Two voices are there; one is of the sea, One of the mountains; each a mighty Voice. Thought of a Briton on the Subjugation of Switzerland. W. WORDSWORTH.

Who first beholds those everlasting clouds, Seedtime and harvest, morning, noon, and night, Still where they were, steadfast, immovable; Who first beholds the Alps—that mighty chain

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