I am as a weed, Flung from the rock, on Ocean's foam, to sail Where'er the surge may sweep, the tempest's breath prevail. Don Juan, Canto III. LORD BYRON.
Watching the waves with all their white crests dancing Come, like thick-plumed squadrons, to the shore Gallantly bounding. Julian. SIR A. HUNT.
Once more upon the waters! yet once more! And the waves behind beneath me as a steed That knows his rider. Don Juan, Canto III. LORD BYRON. I saw him beat the surges under him, And ride upon their backs; he trod the water, Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted The surge most swoln that met him. The Tempest, Act ii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
The sea heaves up, hangs loaded o'er the land, Breaks there, and buries its tumultuous strength. Luria, Act i. R. BROWNING.
Thus, I steer my bark, and sail On even keel, with gentle gale. The Spleen. M. GREEN.
What though the sea be calm? trust to the shore, Ships have been drowned, where late they danced before. Safety on the Shore. R. HERRICK.
Through the black night and driving rain A ship is struggling, all in vain, To live upon the stormy main;— Miserere Domine! The Storm. A.A. PROCTER.
But chief at sea, whose every flexile wave Obeys the blast, the aerial tumult swells. In the dread Ocean undulating wide, Beneath the radiant line that girts the globe. The Seasons: Summer. J. THOMSON.
She comes majestic with her swelling sails, The gallant Ship: along her watery way, Homeward she drives before the favoring gales; Now flirting at their length the streamers play, And now they ripple with the ruffling breeze. Sonnet XIX. R. SOUTHEY.
Thou wert before the Continents, before The hollow heavens, which like another sea Encircles them and thee; but whence thou wert, And when thou wast created, is not known, Antiquity was young when thou wast old. Hymn to the Sea. R.H. STODDARD.
Strongly it bears us along in swelling and limitless billows. Nothing before and nothing behind but the sky and the ocean. The Homeric Hexameter. SCHILLER. Trans. of COLERIDGE.
So forth issewed the Seasons of the yeare: First, lusty Spring, all dight in leaves of flowres That freshly budded and new bloomes did beare, In which a thousand birds had built their bowres That sweetly sung to call forth paramours; And in his hand a javelin he did beare, And on his head (as fit for warlike stoures) A guilt, engraven morion he did weare: That, as some did him love, so others did him feare. Faerie Queen, Bk. VII. E. SPENSER.
The stormy March has come at last, With winds and clouds and changing skies; I hear the rushing of the blast That through the snowy valley flies. March. W.C. BRYANT.
March! A cloudy stream is flowing, And a hard, steel blast is blowing; Bitterer now than I remember Ever to have felt or seen, In the depths of drear December, When the white doth hide the green. March, April, May. B.W. PROCTER (Barry Cornwall).
A gush of bird-song, a patter of dew, A cloud, and a rainbow's warning, Suddenly sunshine and perfect blue— An April day in the morning. April. H.P. SPOFFORD.
O, how this spring of love resembleth The uncertain glory of an April day! The Tempest, Act i. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
When proud-pied April, dressed all in his trim, Hath put a spirit of youth in everything. Sonnet XCVIII. SHAKESPEARE.
Come, gentle Spring! ethereal Mildness! come. The Seasons: Spring. J. THOMSON.
But yesterday all life in bud was hid; But yesterday the grass was gray and sere; To-day the whole world decks itself anew In all the glorious beauty of the year. Sudden Spring in New England. C. WELSH.
When April winds Grew soft, the maple burst into a flush Of scarlet flowers. The Fountains. W.C. BRYANT.
Now Nature hangs her mantle green On every blooming tree, And spreads her sheets o' daisies white Out o'er the grassy lea. Lament of Mary, Queen of Scots. R. BURNS.
Daughter of heaven and earth, coy Spring, With sudden passion languishing, Teaching barren moors to smile, Painting pictures mile on mile, Holds a cup of cowslip wreaths Whence a smokeless incense breathes. May Day. R.W. EMERSON.
Spring's last-born darling, clear-eyed, sweet, Pauses a moment, with white twinkling feet, And golden locks in breezy play, Half teasing and half tender, to repeat Her song of "May." May. S.C. WOOLSEY (Susan Coolidge).
For May wol have no slogardie a-night. The seson priketh every gentil herte, And maketh him out of his slepe to sterte. Canterbury Tales: The Knightes Tale. CHAUCER.
When daisies pied, and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver-white, And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with delight. Love's Labor's Lost, Act v. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
Then came the jolly Sommer, being dight In a thin silken cassock, coloured greene, That was unlyned all, to be more light, And on his head a garlande well beseene. Faerie Queene, Bk. VII. E. SPENSER.
All green and fair the Summer lies, Just budded from the bud of Spring, With tender blue of wistful skies, And winds which softly sing. Menace. S.C. WOOLSEY (Susan Coolidge).
From brightening fields of ether fair-disclosed, Child of the Sun, refulgent Summer comes, In pride of youth, and felt through Nature's depth; He comes, attended by the sultry Hours, And ever-fanning breezes, on his way. The Seasons: Summer. J. THOMSON.
From all the misty morning air, there comes a summer sound, A murmur as of waters from skies, and trees, and ground. The birds they sing upon the wing, the pigeons bill and coo. A Midsummer Song. R.W. GILDER.
His labor is a chant, His idleness a tune; Oh, for a bee's experience Of clovers and of noon! The Bee. E. DICKINSON.
Still as night Or summer's noontide air. Paradise Lost, Bk. II. MILTON.
Joy rises in me, like a summer's morn. A Christmas Carol. S.T. COLERIDGE.
The Summer looks out from her brazen tower, Through the flashing bars of July. A Corymbus for Autumn. F. THOMPSON.
Dead is the air, and still! the leaves of the locust and walnut Lazily hang from the boughs, inlaying their intricate outlines Rather on space than the sky,—on a tideless expansion of slumber. Home Pastorals: August. B. TAYLOR.
Then came the Autumne, all in yellow clad, As though he joyed in his plenteous store, Laden with fruits that made him laugh, full glad That he had banished hunger, which to-fore Had by the belly oft him pinched sore; Upon his head a wreath, that was enrold With ears of corne of every sort, he bore, And in his hand a sickle he did holde, To reape the ripened fruit the which the earth had yold. Faerie Queene, Bk. VII. E. SPENSER.
And the ripe harvest of the new-mown hay Gives it a sweet and wholesome odor. Richard III. (Altered), Act v. Sc. 3. C. CIBBER.
All-cheering Plenty, with her flowing horn, Led yellow Autumn, wreathed with nodding corn. Brigs of Ayr. R. BURNS.
Yellow, mellow, ripened days. Sheltered in a golden coating O'er the dreamy, listless haze, White and dainty cloudlets floating;
* * * * *
Sweet and smiling are thy ways, Beauteous, golden Autumn days. Autumn Days. W. CARLETON.
While Autumn, nodding o'er the yellow plain, Comes jovial on. The Seasons: Autumn. J. THOMSON.
From gold to gray Our mild sweet day Of Indian summer fades too soon; But tenderly Above the sea Hangs, white and calm, the hunter's moon. The Eve of Election. J.G. WHITTIER.
The brown leaves rustle down the forest glade, Where naked branches make a fitful shade, And the lost blooms of Autumn withered lie. October. G. ARNOLD.
The dead leaves their rich mosaics Of olive and gold and brown Had laid on the rain-wet pavements, Through all the embowered town. November. S. LONGFELLOW.
When shrieked The bleak November winds, and smote the woods, And the brown fields were herbless, and the shades That met above the merry rivulet Were spoiled, I sought, I loved them still; they seemed Like old companions in adversity. A Winter Piece. W.C. BRYANT.
Dry leaves upon the wall, Which flap like rustling wings and seek escape, A single frosted cluster on the grape Still hangs—and that is all. November. S.C. WOOLSEY (Susan Coolidge).
Lastly came Winter, clothed all in frize, Chattering his teeth for cold that did him chill; Whilst on his hoary beard his breath did freeze, And the dull drops that from his purple bill As from a limbeck did adown distill; In his right hand a tipped staff he held With which his feeble steps he stayed still, For he was faint with cold and weak with eld, That scarce his loosed limbs he able was to weld. Faerie Queene, Bk. VII. E. SPENSER.
Chaste as the icicle, That's curded by the frost from purest snow, And hangs on Dian's temple: dear Valeria! Coriolanus, Act v. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
Silently as a dream the fabric rose, No sound of hammer or of saw was there. Ice upon ice, the well-adjusted parts Were soon conjoined. The Task: Winter Morning Walk. W. COWPER
When we shall hear The rain and wind beat dark December, how, In this our pinching cave, shall we discourse The freezing hours away? Cymbeline, Act iii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
See, Winter comes, to rule the varied year, Sullen and sad, with all his rising train; Vapors, and Clouds, and Storms. The Seasons: Winter. J. THOMSON.
From snow-topped hills the whirlwinds keenly blow, Howl through the woods, and pierce the vales below, Through the sharp air a flaky torrent flies, Mocks the slow sight, and hides the gloomy skies. Inebriety G. CRABBE.
Let Winter come! let polar spirits sweep The darkening world, and tempest-troubled deep! Though boundless snows the withered heath deform, And the dim sun scarce wanders through the storm, Yet shall the smile of social love repay, With mental light, the melancholy day! And, when its short and sullen noon is o'er, The ice-chained waters slumbering on the shore, How bright the fagots in his little hall Blaze on the hearth, and warm the pictured wall! The Pleasures of Hope. T. CAMPBELL.
Look! the massy trunks Are cased in the pure crystal; each light spray, Nodding and tinkling in the breath of heaven, Is studded with its trembling water-drops, That glimmer with an amethystine light. A Winter Piece. W.C. BRYANT.
Come when the rains Have glazed the snow and clothed the trees with ice, While the slant sun of February pours Into the bowers a flood of light. Approach! The incrusted surface shall upbear thy steps. A Winter Piece. W.C. BRYANT.
O Winter, ruler of the inverted year.
* * * * *
I love thee, all unlovely as thou seem'st, And dreaded as thou art! I crown thee king of intimate delights, Fireside enjoyments, home-born happiness, And all the comforts that the lowly roof Of undisturbed Retirement, and the hours Of long uninterrupted evening, know. The Task: Winter Evening. W. COWPER.
Two may keep counsel, putting one away. Romeo and Juliet, Act ii. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.
And whatsoever else shall hap to-night, Give it an understanding, but no tongue. Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
If you have hitherto concealed this sight, Let it be tenable in your silence still. Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
I have played the fool, the gross fool, to believe The bosom of a friend will hold a secret Mine own could not contain. Unnatural Combat, Act v. Sc. 2. P. MASSINGER.
O shame, where is thy blush? Hamlet, Act iii. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.
Here shame dissuades him, there his fear prevails, And each by turns his aching heart assails. Metamorphoses: Actaeon, Bk. III. OVID. Trans. of ADDISON.
All is confounded, all! Reproach and everlasting shame Sits mocking in our plumes. King Henry V., Act iv. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.
He was not born to shame: Upon his brow shame was ashamed to sit. Romeo and Juliet, Act iii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
Himself sole author of his own disgrace. Hope. W. COWPER.
Men the most infamous are fond of fame: And those who fear not guilt, yet start at shame. The Author. C. CHURCHILL.
Had it pleased Heaven To try me with affliction; had he rained All kinds of sores and shames on my bare head, Steeped me in poverty to the very lips, Given to captivity me and my utmost hopes,— I should have found in some part of my soul A drop of patience: but, alas, to make me A fixed figure, for the time of scorn To point his slow unmoving finger at! Othello, Act iv. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
Build me straight, O worthy Master! Stanch and strong, a goodly vessel, That shall laugh at all disaster And with wave and whirlwind wrestle. The Building of the Ship. H.W. LONGFELLOW.
She walks the waters like a thing of life. And seems to dare the elements to strife. The Corsair, Canto I. LORD BYRON.
Hearts of oak are our ships, Hearts of oak are our men. Hearts of Oak. D. GARRICK.
Sailing Like a stately ship Of Tarsus, bound for the isles Of Javan or Gadire. With all her bravery on, and tackle trim, Sails filled, and streamers waving, Courted by all the winds that hold them play, An amber scent of odorous perfume Her harbinger. Samson Agonistes. MILTON.
Behold the threaden sails, Borne with the invisible and creeping wind, Draw the huge bottoms through the furrowed sea, Breasting the lofty surge. King Henry V., Act iii. Chorus. SHAKESPEARE.
Heaven speed the canvas, gallantly unfurled, To furnish and accommodate a world, To give the pole the produce of the sun, And knit th' unsocial climates into one. Charity. W. COWPER.
Dangerous rocks, Which touching but my gentle vessel's side, Would scatter all her spices on the stream, Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks, And, in a word, but even now worth this, And now worth nothing. Merchant of Venice, Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
As rich.... As is the ooze and bottom of the sea With sunken wreck and sumless treasuries. King Henry V., Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
Her deck is crowded with despairing souls, And in the hollow pauses of the storm We hear their piercing cries. Bertram. C.R. MATURIN.
A brave vessel, Who had no doubt some noble creatures in her, Dashed all to pieces. O, the cry did knock Against my very heart! Poor souls! they perished. The Tempest, Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
They lit the high sea-light, and the dark began to fall. "All hands to loose topgallant sails," I heard the captain call. "By the Lord, she'll never stand it," our first mate, Jackson, cried. ... "It's the one way or the other, Mr. Jackson," he replied.
She staggered to her bearings, but the sails were new and good, And the ship smelt up to windward just as though she understood. As the winter's day was ending, in the entry of the night, We cleared the weary headland, and passed below the light. Christmas at Sea. R.L. STEVENSON.
To love, It is to be all made of sighs and tears. As You Like It, Act V. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
The world was sad.—the garden was a wild; And Man, the hermit, sighed—till Woman smiled. Pleasures of Hope, Pt. I. T. CAMPBELL.
Sighed and looked unutterable things. The Seasons: Summer. J. THOMSON.
My soul has rest, sweet sigh! alone in thee. To Laura in Death. PETRARCH.
Yet sighes, deare sighes, indeede true friends you are That do not leave your left friend at the wurst, But, as you with my breast I oft have nurst, So, gratefull now, you waite upon my care. Sighes. SIR PH. SIDNEY.
Sighs Which perfect Joy, perplexed for utterance, Stole from her sister Sorrow. The Gardener's Daughter. A. TENNYSON.
Three Silences there are: the first of speech, The second of desire, the third of thought. The Three Silences of Molinos. H.W. LONGFELLOW.
Stillborn silence! thou that art Flood-gate of the deeper heart! Silence. R. FLECKNOE
And silence, like a poultice, comes To heal the blows of sound. The Music Grinder. O.W. HOLMES.
Silence in love betrays more woe Than words, though ne'er so witty; A beggar that is dumb, you know, May challenge double pity. The Silent Lover. SIR W. RALEIGH.
Shallow brooks murmur moste, deepe silent slide away. The Arcadia, Thirsis and Dorus. SIR PH. SIDNEY.
What, gone without a word? Aye, so true love should do: it cannot speak; For truth hath better deeds than words to grace it. Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act ii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
The rest is silence. Hamlet, Act v. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
Ay me, how many perils doe enfold The righteous man, to make him daily fall. Faerie Queene, Bk. I. E. SPENSER.
There is a method in man's wickedness, It grows up by degrees. A King and no King, Act v. Sc. 4. BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.
Where is the man who has not tried How mirth can into folly glide, And folly into sin! The Bridal of Triermain, Canto I. SIR W. SCOTT.
I see the right, and I approve it too, Condemn the wrong, and yet the wrong pursue. Metamorphoses, VII. 20. OVID. Trans. of TATE AND STONESTREET.
I am a man More sinned against than sinning. King Lear, Act iii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
The good he scorned Stalked off reluctant, like an ill-used ghost, Not to return; or, if it did, in visits Like those of angels, short and far between. The Grave, Pt. II. R. BLAIR.
Man-like is it to fall into sin, Fiend-like is it to dwell therein, Christ-like is it for sin to grieve, God-like is it all sin to leave. Sin. F. VON LOGAU. Trans. of LONGFELLOW.
O, what authority and show of truth Can cunning sin cover itself withal! Much Ado about Nothing, Act iv. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
Though every prospect pleases, And only man is vile. Missionary Hymn. BISHOP R. HEBER.
And he that does one fault at first, And lies to hide it, makes it two. Divine Songs. DR. I. WATTS.
Commit The oldest sins the newest kind of ways. Henry IV., Pt. II. Act iv. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.
And out of good still to find means of evil. Paradise Lost, Bk. I. MILTON.
But evil is wrought by want of thought, As well as want of heart! The Lady's Dream. T. HOOD.
Timely advised, the coming evil shun: Better not do the deed, than weep it done. Henry and Emma. M. PRIOR.
Men should be what they seem; Or those that be not, would they might seem none! Othello, Act iii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem By that sweet ornament which truth doth give! Sonnet LIV. SHAKESPEARE.
O, while you live, tell truth, and shame the devil. King Henry IV. Pt. I. Act iii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles, His love sincere, his thoughts immaculate, His tears pure messengers sent from his heart, His heart as far from fraud as heaven from earth. Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act ii. Sc. 7. SHAKESPEARE.
An honest tale speeds best being plainly told. King Richard III., Act iv. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.
Were there no heaven nor hell I should be honest. Duchess of Malfi, Act i. Sc. 1. J. WEBSTER.
One of those heavenly days that cannot die. Nutting. W. WORDSWORTH.
Green calm below, blue quietness above. The Pennsylvania Pilgrim J.G. WHITTIER.
The soft blue sky did never melt Into his heart; he never felt The witchery of the soft blue sky! Peter Bell. W. WORDSWORTH.
But now the fair traveller's come to the west, His rays are all gold, and his beauties are best; He paints the skies gay as he sinks to his rest, And foretells a bright rising again. A Summer Evening. DR. I. WATTS.
How bravely Autumn paints upon the sky The gorgeous fame of Summer which is fled! Written in a Volume of Shakespeare. T. HOOD.
Of evening tinct, The purple-streaming Amethyst is thine. Seasons: Summer. J. THOMSON.
Heaven's ebon vault, Studded with stars unutterably bright, Through which the moon's unclouded grandeur rolls, Seems like a canopy which love has spread To curtain her sleeping world. Queen Mab, Pt. IV. P.B. SHELLEY.
This majestical roof fretted with golden fire. Hamlet, Act ii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
Tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy Sleep! He, like the world, his ready visit pays Where fortune smiles; the wretched he forsakes: Swift on his downy pinions flies from woe, And lights on lids unsullied with a tear. Night Thoughts, Night I. DR. E. YOUNG.
Thou hast been called, O sleep! the friend of woe; But 'tis the happy that have called thee so. Curse of Kehama, Canto XV. R. SOUTHEY.
Sleep seldom visits sorrow; when it doth, It is a comforter. The Tempest, Act ii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
Weariness Can snore upon the flint, when restive sloth Finds the down pillow hard. Cymbeline, Act iii Sc. 6. SHAKESPEARE.
O magic sleep! O comfortable bird, That broodest o'er the troubled sea of the mind Till it is hushed and smooth! Endymion, Bk. I. J. KEATS.
Sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye, Steal me awhile from mine own company. Midsummer Night's Dream, Act iii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
Then Sleep and Death, two twins of winged race, Of matchless swiftness, but of silent pace. Iliad, Bk. XVI. HOMER. Trans. of POPE.
Care-charming sleep, thou easer of all woes, Brother to Death, sweetly thyself dispose On this afflicted prince; fall like a cloud In gentle showers;... sing his pain Like hollow murmuring wind or silver rain. Valentinian. BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.
Smiles from reason flow, To brute denied, and are of love the food. Paradise Lost, Bk. IX. MILTON.
Why should we faint and fear to live alone, Since all alone, so Heaven has willed, we die, Nor even the tenderest heart, and next our own, Knows half the reasons why we smile and sigh? The Christian Year, 24th Sunday after Trinity. J. KEBLE.
And the tear that is wiped with a little address, May be followed perhaps by a smile. The Rose. W. COWPER.
The social smile, the sympathetic tear. Education and Government. T. GRAY.
Eternal smiles his emptiness betray. As shallow streams run dimpling all the way. Satires: Prologue. A. POPE.
So comes a reckoning when the banquet's o'er. The dreadful reckoning, and men smile no more. The What d' ye Call 't. J. GAY.
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.
Love all, trust a few, Do wrong to none: be able for thine enemy Rather in power than use, and keep thy friend Under thy own life's key: be checked for silence, But never taxed for speech. All's Well That Ends Well, Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
A people is but the attempt of many To rise to the completer life of one— And those who live as models for the mass Are singly of more value than they all. Luria, Act v. R. BROWNING.
There my retreat the best companions grace, Chiefs out of war, and statesmen out of place; There St. John mingles with my friendly bowl, The feast of reason and the flow of soul. Imitations of Horace, Satire I. Bk. II. A. POPE.
Here thou, great Anna! whom three realms obey, Dost sometimes counsel take—and sometimes tea. Rape of the Lock, Canto III. A. POPE.
Among unequals what society Can sort, what harmony, or true delight? Paradise Lost, Bk. VIII. MILTON.
The company is "mixed" (the phrase I quote is As much as saying, they're below your notice). Beppo. LORD BYRON.
Society is now one polished horde. Formed of two mighty tribes, the Bores and Bored. Don Juan, Canto XI. LORD BYRON.
He stands erect; his slouch becomes a walk; He steps right onward, martial in his air, His form and movement. The Task, Bk. IV. W. COWPER.
A braver soldier never couched lance, A gentler heart did never sway in court. King Henry VI., Pt. I. Act iii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
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.
* * * * *
And, pleased the Almighty's orders to perform, Rides in the whirlwind and directs the storm. The Campaign. J. ADDISON.
So restless Cromwell could not cease In the inglorious arts of peace. But through adventurous war Urged his active star. A Horatian Ode: Upon Cromwell's Return from Ireland. A. MARVELL.
'T is the soldier's life To have their balmy slumbers waked with strife. Othello, Act ii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
Some for hard masters, broken under arms, In battle lopt away, with half their limbs, Beg bitter bread thro' realms their valor saved. Night Thoughts, Night I. DR. E. YOUNG.
His breast with wounds unnumbered riven, His back to earth, his face to heaven. The Giaour. LORD BYRON.
Wut's words to them whose faith an' truth On War's red techstone rang true metal, Who ventured life an' love an' youth For the gret prize o' death in battle? The Biglow Papers, Second Series, No. X. J.R. LOWELL.
God's soldier he be! Had I as many sons as I have hairs. I would not wish them to a fairer death: And so his knell is knolled. Macbeth, Act v. Sc. 8. SHAKESPEARE.
O, now, forever Farewell the tranquil mind! farewell content! Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars, That make ambition virtue! O, farewell! Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump,
The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife, The royal banner, and all quality, Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war! And, O you mortal engines, whose rude throats The immortal Jove's dread clamors counterfeit, Farewell! Othello's occupation's gone! Othello, Act iii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
All heaven and earth are still,—though not in sleep, But breathless, as we grow when feeling most: And silent, as we stand in thoughts too deep;— All heaven and earth are still;
* * * * *
Then stirs the feeling infinite, so felt In solitude, where we are least alone. Childe Harold, Canto III. LORD BYRON.
When, musing on companions gone, We doubly feel ourselves alone. Marmion, Canto II. Introduction. SIR W. SCOTT.
Alone!—that worn-out word, So idly spoken, and so coldly heard; Yet all that poets sing, and grief hath known, Of hopes laid waste, knells in that word—Alone! The New Timon, Pt. II. E. BULWER-LYTTON.
O! lost to virtue, lost to manly thought, Lost to the noble, sallies of the soul! Who think it solitude to be alone. Night Thoughts, Night IV. DR. E. YOUNG.
Converse with men makes sharp the glittering wit, But God to man doth speak in solitude. Highland Solitude. J.S. BLACKIE.
But, if much converse perhaps Thee satiate, to short absence I could yield; For solitude sometimes is best society, And short retirement urges sweet return. Paradise Lost, Bk. IX. MILTON.
Few are the faults we flatter when alone. Night Thoughts, Night V. DR. E. YOUNG.
'Tis solitude should teach us how to die; It hath no flatterers: vanity can give No hollow aid; alone—man with his God must strive. Childe Harold, Canto II. LORD BYRON.
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.
When sorrows come, they come not single spies, But in battalions. Hamlet, Act iv. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.
One woe doth tread upon another's heel, So fast they follow. Hamlet, Act iv. Sc. 7. SHAKESPEARE.
Woes cluster; rare are solitary woes; They love a train, they tread each other's heel. Night Thoughts, Night III. DR. E. YOUNG.
Who ne'er his bread in sorrow ate, Who ne'er the mournful midnight hours Weeping upon his bed has sate, He knows you not, ye Heavenly Powers. Hyperion, Bk. I. Motto: from Goethe's Wilhelm Meister. H.W. LONGFELLOW.
One fire burns out another's burning; One pain is lessened by another's anguish; Turn giddy, and be helped by backward turning; One desp'rate grief cures with another's languish; Take thou some new infection to the eye, And the rank poison of the old will die. Romeo and Juliet, Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
All that's bright must fade,— The brightest still the fleetest; All that's sweet was made But to be lost when sweetest! National Airs: All that's bright must fade. T. MOORE.
O God! O God! How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable Seem to me all the uses of this world! Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
Weep no more, nor sigh, nor groan. Sorrow calls no time that's gone: Violets plucked, the sweetest rain Makes not fresh nor grow again. The Queen of Corinth, Act iii. Sc. 2. J. FLETCHER.
Sorrows remembered sweeten present joy. The Course of Time, Bk. I. R. POLLOK.
Wreaths that endure affliction's heaviest showers, And do not shrink from sorrow's keenest winds. Misc. Sonnets, Pt. I. XXXIII. W. WORDSWORTH.
Affliction is the good man's shining scene; Prosperity conceals his brightest ray; As night to stars, woe lustre gives to man. Night Thoughts, Night IX. DR. E. YOUNG.
Like a ball that bounds According to the force with which 'twas thrown So in affliction's violence, he that's wise The more he's cast down will the higher rise. Microcosmos. T. NABBES.
O, fear not in a world like this, And thou shalt know erelong,— Know how sublime a thing it is To suffer and be strong. The Light of Stars. H.W. LONGFELLOW.
Summe up at night what thou hast done by day; And in the morning what thou hast to do. Dresse and undresse thy soul; mark the decay And growth of it: if, with thy watch, that too Be down, then winde up both; since we shall be Most surely judged, make thy accounts agree. The Temple: The Church Porch. G. HERBERT.
Go to your bosom; Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know. Measure for Measure, Act ii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
O ignorant, poor man! what dost thou bear Locked up within the casket of thy breast? What jewels and what riches hast thou there? What heavenly treasure in so weak a chest? Worth of the Soul. SIR J. DAVIES.
Let Fortune empty all her quiver on me; I have a soul that like an ample shield, Can take in all, and verge enough for more. Sebastian, Act i. Sc. 1. J. DRYDEN.
And keeps that palace of the soul serene. Of Tea. E. WALLER.
A happy soul, that all the way To heaven hath a summer's day. In Praise of Lessius' Mule of Health. R. CRASHAW.
And rest at last where souls unbodied dwell, In ever-flowing meads of Asphodel. Odyssey, Bk. XXIV. HOMER. Trans. of POPE.
Persuasive speech, and more persuasive sighs, Silence that spoke, and eloquence of eyes. Iliad, Bk. XIV. HOMER. Trans. of POPE.
Discourse may want an animated "No" To brush the surface, and to make it flow; But still remember, if you mean to please, To press your point with modesty and ease. Conversation. W. COWPER.
One whom the music of his own vain tongue Doth ravish like enchanting harmony. Love's Labor's Lost, Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
Turn him to any cause of policy, The Gordian knot of it he will unloose, Familiar as his garter: that, when he speaks, The air, a chartered libertine, is still. King Henry V., Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
Persuasion tips his tongue whene'er he talks. Parody on Pope. C. CIBBER.
Yet Hold it more humane, more heavenly, first, By winning words to conquer willing hearts, And make persuasion do the work of fear. Paradise Regained, Bk. I. MILTON.
Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice; Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment. Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
"Careful with fire," is good advice, we know, "Careful with words," is ten times doubly so. Thoughts unexpressed may sometimes fall back dead: But God Himself can't kill them when they're said. First Settler's Story. W. CARLETON.
GLENDOWER.—I can call spirits from the vasty deep. HOTSPUR. —Why, so can I, or so can any man; But will they come when you do call for them? King Henry IV., Pt. I. Act III. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth Unseen, both when we wake, and when we sleep. Paradise Lost, Bk. IV. MILTON.
Spirits when they please Can either sex assume, or both,
* * * * *
Can execute their airy purposes, And works of love or enmity fulfil. Paradise Lost, Bk, I. MILTON.
But shapes that come not at an earthly call Will not depart when mortal voices bid; Lords of the visionary eye, whose lid, Once raised, remains aghast, and will not fall! Dion. W. WORDSWORTH.
I shall not see thee. Dare I say No spirit ever brake the band That stays him from the native land, Where first he walked when clasped in clay?
No visual shade of some one lost, But he, the spirit himself, may come Where all the nerve of sense is numb; Spirit to spirit, ghost to ghost. In Memoriam, XCII. A. TENNYSON.
Where is our usual manager of mirth? What revels are in hand? Is there no play, To ease the anguish of a torturing hour? Midsummer Night's Dream, Act v. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
Prologues, like compliments, are loss of time; 'Tis penning bows and making legs in rhyme. Prologue to Crisp's Tragedy of Virginia. D. GARRICK.
Prologues precede the piece in mournful verse, As undertakers walk before the hearse. Prologue to Apprentice. D. GARRICK.
On the stage he was natural, simple, affecting, 'Twas only that when he was off, he was acting. Retaliation. O. GOLDSMITH.
The drama's laws, the drama's patrons give. For we that live to please, must please to live. Prologue. Spoken by Mr. Garrick on Opening Drury Lane Theatre, 1747. DR. S. JOHNSON.
To wake the soul by tender strokes of art, To raise the genius, and to mend the heart; To make mankind, in conscious virtue bold, Live o'er each scene, and be what they behold— For this the tragic Muse first trod the stage. Prologue to Addison's Cato. A. POPE.
As in a theatre, the eyes of men, After a well-graced actor leaves the stage, Are idly bent on him that enters next, Thinking his prattle to be tedious. Richard II., Act v. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
Is it not monstrous that this player here, But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his own conceit That from her working all his visage wanned? Hamlet, Act ii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, That he should weep for her? What would he do, Had he the motive and the cue for passion That I have? He would drown the stage with tears. Hamlet, Act ii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano; A stage, where every man must play a part, And mine a sad one. Merchant of Venice, Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
I have heard That guilty creatures, sitting at a play, Have by the very cunning of the scene Been struck so to the soul, that presently They have proclaimed their malefactions.
* * * * *
The play's the thing Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the King. Hamlet, Act ii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
Lo, where the stage, the poor, degraded stage, Holds its warped mirror to a gaping age. Curiosity. C. SPRAGUE.
A veteran see! whose last act on the stage Entreats your smiles for sickness and for age; Their cause I plead,—plead it in heart and mind; A fellow-feeling makes one wondrous kind. Prologue on Quitting the Stage in 1776. D. GARRICK.
Who teach the mind its proper face to scan, And hold the faithful mirror up to man. The Actor. R. LLOYD.
That full star that ushers in the even. Sonnet CXXXII. SHAKESPEARE.
Her blue eyes sought the west afar, For lovers love the western star. Lay of the Last Minstrel, Canto III. SIR W. SCOTT.
And fast by, hanging in a golden chain This pendent world, in bigness as a star Of smallest magnitude close by the moon. Paradise Lost, Bk. II. MILTON.
Devotion! daughter of astronomy! An undevout astronomer is mad. Night Thoughts, Night IX. DR. E. YOUNG.
There does a sable cloud Turn forth her silver lining on the night, And cast a gleam over this tufted grove. Comus. MILTON.
Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels. Evangeline, Pt. I. H.W. LONGFELLOW.
'Tis the witching hour of night, Orbed is the moon and bright, And the stars they glisten, glisten, Seeming with bright eyes to listen— For what listen they? A Prophecy. J. KEATS.
There is no light in earth or heaven But the cold light of stars; And the first watch of night is given To the red planet Mars. The Light of Stars. H.W. LONGFELLOW.
Sweet Phosphor, bring the day; Light will repay The wrongs of night; Sweet Phosphor, bring the day! Emblems, Bk. I. F. QUARLES.
At whose sight all the stars Hide their diminished heads. Paradise Lost, Bk. IV. MILTON.
Nor sink those stars in empty night,— They hide themselves in heaven's own light. Issues of Life and Death. J. MONTGOMERY.
A thousand years scarce serve to form a state; An hour may lay it in the dust. Childe Harold, Canto II. LORD BYRON.
Who's in or out, who moves this grand machine, Nor stirs my curiosity nor spleen: Secrets of state no more I wish to know Than secret movements of a puppet show: Let but the puppets move, I've my desire, Unseen the hand which guides the master wire. Night. C. CHURCHILL.
Resolved to ruin or to rule the state. Absalom and Achitophel, Pt. II. J. DRYDEN.
And lives to clutch the golden keys, To mould a mighty state's decrees, And shape the whisper of the throne. In Memoriam, LXIII. A. TENNYSON.
And statesmen at her council met Who knew the seasons when to take Occasion by the hand, and make The bounds of freedom wider yet. To the Queen. A. TENNYSON.
What should it be, that thus their faith can bind? The power of Thought—the magic of the Mind! Linked with success, assumed and kept with skill. That moulds another's weakness to its will. The Corsair. LORD BYRON.
'Tis thus the spirit of a single mind Makes that of multitudes take one direction. Don Juan. LORD BYRON.
For just experience tells, in every soil, That those that think must govern those that toil. The Traveller. O. GOLDSMITH.
A cutpurse of the empire and the rule. That from a shelf the precious diadem stole, And put it in his pocket! Hamlet, Act iii. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.
Some of their chiefs were princes of the land; In the first rank of these did Zimri[A] stand; A man so various, that he seemed to be Not one, but all mankind's epitome: Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong; Was everything by starts, and nothing long; But, in the course of one revolving moon. Was chymist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon; Then all for women, painting, rhyming, drinking, Besides ten thousand freaks that died in thinking. Absalom and Achitophel, Pt. I. J. DRYDEN.
[Footnote A: George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham.]
For close designs and crooked councils fit; Sagacious, bold, and turbulent of wit; Restless, unfixed in principles and place; In power unpleased, impatient of disgrace: A fiery soul, which, working out its way, Fretted the pygmy-body to decay, And o'er informed the tenement of clay. A daring pilot in extremity; Pleased with the danger, when the waves went high He sought the storms; but for a calm unfit, Would steer too nigh the sands to boast his wit. Great wits are sure to madness near allied, And thin partitions do their bounds divide. Absalom and Achitophel, Pt. I. (Earl of Shaftesbury.) J. DRYDEN.
I'll example you with thievery: The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction Robs the vast sea: the moon's an arrant thief, And her pale fire she snatches from the sun: The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves The moon into salt tears: the earth's a thief, That feeds and breeds by composture stolen From general excrement: each thing's a thief. Timon of Athens, Act iv. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
Kill a man's family and he may brook it, But keep your hands out of his breeches' pocket. Don Juan, Canto X. LORD BYRON.
Stolen sweets are always sweeter: Stolen kisses much completer; Stolen looks are nice in chapels: Stolen, stolen be your apples. Song of Fairies. T. RANDOLPH.
A tailor, though a man of upright dealing,— True but for lying,—honest but for stealing. Of a Precise Tailor. SIR J. HARRINGTON.
Thieves for their robbery have authority When judges steal themselves. Measure for Measure, Act ii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
Thou hast stolen both mine office and my name; The one ne'er got me credit, the other mickle blame. Comedy of Errors, Act iii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
In vain we call old notions fudge And bend our conscience to our dealing, The Ten Commandments will not budge And stealing will continue stealing. Motto of American Copyright League, 1885.
The lowering element Scowls o'er the darkened landscape. Paradise Lost, Bk. II. MILTON.
At first, heard solemn o'er the verge of Heaven, The tempest growls; but as it nearer comes, And rolls its awful burden on the wind, The lightnings flash a larger curve, and more The noise astounds; till overhead a sheet Of livid flame discloses wide, then shuts, And opens wider; shuts and opens still Expansive, wrapping ether in a blaze. Follows the loosened aggravated roar, Enlarging, deepening, mingling, peal on peal, Crushed, horrible, convulsing Heaven and Earth. The Seasons: Summer. J. THOMSON.
From cloud to cloud the rending lightnings rage, Till, in the furious elemental war Dissolved, the whole precipitated mass Unbroken floods and solid torrents pour. The Seasons: Summer. J. THOMSON.
Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, Your looped and windowed raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these? King Lear, Act iii. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.
Blow wind, swell billow, and swim bark! The storm is up, and all is on the hazard. Julius Caesar, Act v. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds Have rived the knotty oaks, and I have seen The ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam, To be exalted with the threat'ning clouds. Julius Caesar, Act i. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
Seas Rough with black winds, and storms Unwonted. Book I. Ode V. HORACE. Trans. of MILTON.
Lightnings, that show the vast and foamy deep, The rending thunders, as they onward roll, The loud, loud winds, that o'er the billows sweep— Shake the firm nerve, appal the bravest soul! Mysteries of Udolpho: The Mariner. MRS. ANN RADCLIFFE.
In the lexicon of youth, which fate reserves For a bright manhood, there is no such word As—fail. Richelieu, Act ii. Sc. 2. E. BULWER-LYTTON.
The star of the unconquered will. The Light of Stars. H.W. LONGFELLOW.
'T is not in mortals to command success, But we'll do more, Sempronius; we'll deserve it. Cato, Act i. Sc. 2. J. ADDISON.
And many strokes, though with a little axe, Hew down and fell the hardest-timbered oak. King Henry VI., Pt. III. Act ii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
Such a nature. Tickled with good success, disdains the shadow Which he treads on at noon. Coriolanus, Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
In my school-days, when I had lost one shaft, I shot his fellow of the self-same flight The self-same way, with more advised watch. To find the other forth; and by adventuring both, I oft found both. Merchant of Venice, Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
Success is counted sweetest By those who ne'er succeed. Success. EMILY DICKINSON.
He That kills himself t' avoid misery, fears it, And at the best shows but a bastard valor: This life's a fort committed to my trust, Which I must not yield up, till it be forced; Nor will I: he's not valiant that dares die, But he that boldly bears calamity. The Maid of Honor. P. MASSINGER.
All mankind Is one of these two cowards; Either to wish to die When he should live, or live when he should die. The Blind Lady. SIR E. HOWARD.
Against self-slaughter There is a prohibition so divine That cravens my weak hand. Cymbeline, Act iii. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.
That orbed continent the fire That severs day from night. Twelfth Night, Act v. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
O thou that, with surpassing glory crowned, Look'st from thy sole dominion like the God Of this new world,... O Sun! Paradise Lost, Bk. IV. MILTON.
Fires the proud tops of the eastern pines. King Richard II., Act iii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
The lessening cloud, The kindling azure, and the mountain's brow, Illumed with fluid gold, his near approach Betoken glad. Lo! now, apparent all Aslant the dew-bright earth, and colored air, He looks in boundless majesty abroad; And sheds the shining day, that burnished plays On rocks, and hills, and towers, and wand'ring streams High gleaming from afar. The Seasons: Summer. J. THOMSON.
The sun had long since in the lap Of Thetis taken out his nap. And, like a lobster boiled, the morn From black to red began to turn. Hudibras, Pt. II. Canto II. DR. S. BUTLER.
"But," quoth his neighbor, "when the sun From East to West his course has run, How comes it that he shows his face Next morning in his former place?" "Ho! there's a pretty question, truly!" Replied our wight, with an unruly Burst of laughter and delight, So much his triumph seemed to please him: "Why, blockhead! he goes back at night, And that's the reason no one sees him!" The Astronomical Alderman. H. SMITH.
Behold him setting in his western skies, The shadows lengthening as the vapors rise. Absalom and Achitophel, Pt. I J.J. DRYDEN.
Now sunk the sun: the closing hour of day Came onward, mantled o'er with sober gray; Nature in silence bid the world repose. The Hermit. T. PARNELL.
Parting day Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues With a new color as it gasps away, The last still loveliest, till—'t is gone—and all is gray. Childe Harold, Canto IV. LORD BYRON.
Come watch with me the shaft of fire that glows In yonder West: the fair, frail palaces, The fading Alps and archipelagoes, And great cloud-continents of sunset-seas. Miracles. T.B. ALDRICH.
The setting sun, and music at the close, As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last. King Richard II., Act ii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
Yet, where an equal poise of hope and fear Does arbitrate the event, my nature is That I incline to hope rather than fear, And gladly banish squint suspicion. Comus. MILTON.
All seems infected that the infected spy, As all looks yellow to the jaundiced eye. Essay on Criticism. A. POPE.
Suspicion, poisoning his brother's cup. Catiline. G. CROLY.
He jests at scars, that never felt a wound. Romeo and Juliet, Act ii. Sc. 1 SHAKESPEARE.
No one is so accursed by fate, No one so utterly desolate. But some heart, though unknown, Responds unto his own. Endymion. H.W. LONGFELLOW.
There is in souls a sympathy with sounds, And as the mind is pitched the ear is pleased With melting airs of martial, brisk, or grave; Some chord in unison with what we hear Is touched within us, and the heart replies. The Task: Winter Walk at Noon. W. COWPER.
Oh! who the exquisite delights can tell, The joy which mutual confidence imparts? Or who can paint the charm unspeakable, Which links in tender hands two faithful hearts? Psyche. MRS. M. TIGHE.
O! ask not, hope thou not too much Of sympathy below: Few are the hearts whence one same touch Bids the same fountain flow. Kindred Hearts. MRS. F.D. HEMANS.
Yet, taught by time, my heart has learned to glow For other's good, and melt at other's woe. Odyssey, Bk. XVIII. HOMER. Trans. of POPE.
Some hae meat and canna eat, And some wad eat that want it: But we hae meat, and we can eat; Sae let the Lord be thankit. Grace before Meat. R. BURNS.
And do as adversaries do in law, Strive mightily, but eat and drink as friends. Taming of the Shrew, Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
They are as sick that surfeit with too much, as they that starve with nothing. Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 2 SHAKESPEARE.
He hath eaten me out of house and home. King Henry IV., Pt. II. Act ii. Sc. 1 SHAKESPEARE.
My cake is dough: but I'll in among the rest, Out of hope of all but my share of the feast. Taming of the Shrew, Act v. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
And gazed around them to the left and right With the prophetic eye of appetite. Don Juan, Canto V. LORD BYRON.
Blest be those feasts, with simple plenty crowned, Where all the ruddy family around Laugh at the jests or pranks that never fail Or sigh with pity at some mournful tale. The Traveller. O. GOLDSMITH.
They eat, they drink, and in communion sweet Quaff immortality and joy. Paradise Lost, Bk. V. MILTON.
Bone and Skin, two millers thin, Would starve us all, or near it; But be it known to Skin and Bone That Flesh and Blood can't bear it. On Two Monopolists. J. BYROM.
Nothing's more sure at moments to take hold Of the best feelings of mankind, which grow More tender, as we every day behold, Than that all-softening, overpowering knell, The tocsin of the soul—the dinner bell! Don Juan, Canto V. LORD BYRON.
Their various cares in one great point combine The business of their lives, that is—to dine. Love of Fame. DR. E. YOUNG.
Across the walnuts and the wine. The Miller's Daughter. A. TENNYSON.
No, pray thee, let it serve for table-talk; Then, howsoe'er thou speak'st, 'mong other things I shall digest it. Merchant of Venice, Act iii. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.
Some say, compared to Bononcini, That Mynheer Handel's but a ninny; Others aver,—that he to Handel Is scarcely fit to hold a candle: Strange all this difference should be, 'Twixt tweedle-dum and tweedle-dee! On the Feuds between Handel and Bononcini. J. BYROM.
What's one man's poison, signor, Is another's meat or drink. Love's Cure, Act iii. Sc. 2. BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.
Different minds Incline to different objects: one pursues The vast alone, the wonderful, the wild; Another sighs for harmony, and grace, And gentlest beauty.
* * * * *
Such and so various are the tastes of men. Pleasures of the Imagination, Bk. III. M. AKENSIDE.
The rose is fairest when 't is budding new, And hope is brightest when it dawns from fears. The rose is sweetest washed with morning dew. And love is loveliest when embalmed in tears. Lady of the Lake, Canto IV. SIR W. SCOTT.
O father, what a hell of witchcraft lies In the small orb of one particular tear! A Lover's Complaint, Stanza XLII. SHAKESPEARE.
Sunshine and rain at once. King Lear, Act iv. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
The drying up a single tear has more Of honest fame, than shedding seas of gore. Don Juan, Canto VIII. LORD BYRON.
And weep the more, because I weep in vain. On the Death of Mr. West. T. GRAY.
Oh! would I were dead now. Or up in my bed now, To cover my head now And have a good cry! A Table of Errata. T. HOOD.
So bright the tear in Beauty's eye. Love half regrets to kiss it dry. Bride of Abydos. LORD BYRON.
I cannot speak, tears so obstruct my words, And choke me with unutterable joy. Caius Marius. T. OTWAY.
Sorrow preys upon Its solitude and nothing more diverts it From its sad visions of the other world Than calling it at moments back to this. The busy have no time for tears. The Two Foscari, Act iv. LORD BYRON.
Oh! blessed with temper, whose unclouded ray Can make to-morrow cheerful as to-day. Moral Essays, Epistle II. A. POPE.
From loveless youth to uninspected age, No passion gratified, except her rage, So much the fury still outran the wit, That pleasure missed her, and the scandal hit. Moral Essays, Epistle II. A. POPE.
Good-humor only teaches charms to last, Still makes new conquests and maintains the past. Epistle to Mrs. Blount. A. POPE.
What then remains, but well our power to use, And keep good-humor still whate'er we lose? And trust me, dear, good-humor can prevail, When airs, and flights, and screams, and scolding fail. Rape of the Lock, Canto V. A. POPE.
How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds Makes ill deeds done! King John, Act iv. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
O opportunity, thy guilt is great! 'T is thou that executest the traitor's treason; Thou sett'st the wolf where he the lamb may get; Whoever plots the sin, thou 'point'st the season; 'T is thou that spurn'st at right, at law, at reason. The Rape of Lucrece. SHAKESPEARE.
Sometimes we are devils to ourselves, When we will tempt the frailty of our powers, Presuming on their changeful potency. Troilus and Cressida, Act iv. 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.
Vice is a monster of so frightful mien, As to be hated needs but to be seen; Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face, We first endure, then pity, then embrace. Essay on Man. Epistle II. A. POPE.
Temptations hurt not, though they have accesse; Satan o'ercomes none but by willingnesse. Hesperides' Temptations. R. HERRICK.
In Adam's fall We sinne'd all. New England Primer.
Hold thou the good: define it well: For fear divine Philosophy Should push beyond her mark, and be Procuress to the Lords of Hell. In Memoriam. A. TENNYSON.
For forms of government let fools contest; Whate'er is best administered is best: For modes of faith let graceless zealots fight; His can't be wrong whose life is in the right. Essay on Man, Epistle III. A. POPE.
His faith, perhaps, in some nice tenets might Be wrong; his life, I'm sure, was in the right. On the Death of Crashaw. A. COWLEY.
Slave to no sect, who takes no private road. But looks through nature up to nature's God.
* * * * *
And knows where faith, law, morals, all began, All end, in love of God and love of man. Essay on Man, Epistle IV. A. POPE.
Thought can wing its way Swifter than lightning-flashes or the beam That hastens on the pinions of the morn. Sonnet. J.G. PERCIVAL.
I and my bosom must debate awhile, And then I would no other company. King Henry V., Act iv. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
He that has light within his own clear breast, May sit i' th' centre and enjoy bright day: But he that hides a dark soul, and foul thoughts, Benighted walks under the midday sun. Comus. MILTON.
So Thought flung forward is the prophecy Of Truth's majestic march, and shows the way Where future time shall lead the proud array Of peace, of power, and love of liberty. SIR J. BOWRING.
There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so. Hamlet, Act ii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
O Time! the beautifier of the dead, Adorner of the ruin, comforter And only healer when the heart hath bled— Time! the corrector where our judgments err, The test of truth, love,—soul philosopher, For all besides are sophists, from thy thrift Which never loses though it doth defer— Time, the avenger! unto thee I lift My hands, and eyes, and heart, and crave of thee a gift. Childe Harold, Canto IV. LORD BYRON.
The more we live, more brief appear Our life's succeeding stages: A day to childhood seems a year, And years like passing ages.
* * * * *
Heaven gives our years of fading strength Indemnifying fleetness; And those of youth, a seeming length, Proportioned to their sweetness. The River of Life. T. CAMPBELL.
Yet Time, who changes all, had altered him In soul and aspect as in age; years steal Fire from the mind as vigor from the limb: And life's enchanted cup but sparkles near the brim. Childe Harold, Canto III. LORD BYRON.
Catch! then, O catch, the transient hour; Improve each moment as it flies; Life's a short summer—man a flower. Winter: An Ode. DR. S. JOHNSON.
Come what come may, Time and the hour runs through the roughest day. Macbeth, Act i. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
And then he drew a dial from his poke, And, looking on it with lack-lustre eye, Says very wisely, "It is ten o'clock: Thus may we see," quoth he, "how the world wags: 'T is but an hour ago since it was nine; And after one hour more 't will be eleven; And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe. And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot; And thereby hangs a tale." As You Like it, Act ii. Sc. 7. SHAKESPEARE.
Seven hours to law, to soothing slumber seven, Ten to the world allot, and all to heaven. Ode in Imitation of Alcaeus. SIR W. JONES.
Nought treads so silent as the foot of Time; Hence we mistake our autumn for our prime. Love of Fame, Satire IV. DR. E. YOUNG.
Not one word more of the consumed time. Let's take the instant by the forward top; For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees The inaudible and noiseless foot of Time Steals ere we can effect them. All's Well that End's Well, Act v. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
Sublime tobacco! which from east to west. Cheers the tar's labor or the Turkman's rest,
* * * * *
Divine in hookahs, glorious in a pipe. When tipped with amber, mellow, rich and ripe; Like other charmers, wooing the caress More dazzlingly when daring in full dress; Yet thy true lovers more admire by far Thy naked beauties—Give me a cigar! The Island, Canto II. LORD BYRON.
Yes, social friend, I love thee well, In learned doctors' spite; Thy clouds all other clouds dispel, And lap me in delight. To my Cigar. C. SPRAGUE.
Such often, like the tube they so admire, Important triflers! have more smoke than fire. Pernicious weed! whose scent the fair annoys, Unfriendly to society's chief joys, Thy worst effect is banishing for hours The sex whose presence civilizes ours. Conversation. W. COWPER.
Tobacco's a musician, And in a pipe delighteth; It descends in a close Through the organ of the nose. With a relish that inviteth. Song: Play of Technogamia. B. HOLIDAY.
Some sigh for this and that; My wishes don't go far; The world may wag at will, So I have my cigar. The Cigar. T. HOOD.
The pipe, with solemn interposing puff, Makes half a sentence at a time enough; The dozing sages drop the drowsy strain, Then pause, and puff—and speak, and pause again. Conversation. W. COWPER.
To him 't was meat and drink and physic, To see the friendly vapor Curl round his midnight taper. And the black fume Clothe all the room, In clouds as dark as science metaphysic. Points of Misery. C.M. WESTMACOTT.
Just where the breath of life his nostrils drew, A charge of snuff the wily virgin threw; The gnomes direct, to every atom just, The pungent grains of titillating dust; Sudden, with starting tears each eye o'erflows, And the high dome re-echoes to his nose. Rape of the Lock, Canto V. A. POPE.
To-morrow yet would reap to-day, As we bear blossoms of the dead; Earn well the thrifty months, nor wed Raw Haste, half-sister to Delay. Love Thou the Land. A. TENNYSON.
In human hearts what bolder thoughts can rise, Than man's presumption on to-morrow's dawn! Where is to-morrow? Night Thoughts, Night I. DR. E. YOUNG.
To-morrow is a satire on to-day, And shows its weakness. The Old Man's Repose. DR. E. YOUNG.
Nothing that is can pause or stay; The moon will wax, the moon will wane, The mist and cloud will turn to rain, The rain to mist and cloud again, To-morrow be to-day. Keramos. H.W. LONGFELLOW.
To-morrow is, ah, whose? Between Two Worlds. D.M. MULOCK CRAIK.
Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep, And in his simple show he harbors treason. The fox barks not, when he would steal the lamb. King Henry VI., Pt. II. Act iii. Sc. 1 SHAKESPEARE.
Treason is not owned when 't is descried; Successful crimes alone are justified. Medals. J. DRYDEN.
Treason doth never prosper: what's the reason? For if it prosper, none dare call it treason. Epigrams. SIR J. BARRINGTON.
Hast thou betrayed my credulous innocence With vizored falsehood and base forgery? Comus. MILTON.
Oh, for a tongue to curse the slave Whose treason, like a deadly blight, Comes o'er the councils of the brave, And blasts them in their hour of might! Lalla Rookh: The Fire Worshipers. T. MOORE.
To say the truth, so Judas kissed his master. And cried "All hail!" whereas he meant all harm. King Henry VI., Pt. III. Act v. Sc. 7 SHAKESPEARE.
Tellest thou me of "ifs"? Thou art a traitor: Off with his head! so much for Buckingham! King Richard III. Altered, Act iv, Sc. 3. C. CIBBER
Welcome, ye shades! ye bowery thickets hail! Ye lofty pines! ye venerable oaks! Ye ashes wild, resounding o'er the steep! Delicious is your shelter to the soul. Seasons: Summer. J. THOMSON.
Now all the tree-tops lay asleep, Like green waves on the sea, As still as in the silent deep The ocean woods may be. The Recollection. P.B. SHELLEY.
Like two cathedral towers these stately pines Uplift their fretted summits tipped with cones; The arch beneath them is not built with stones, Not Art but Nature traced these lovely lines, And carved this graceful arabesque of vines; No organ but the wind here sighs and moans, No sepulchre conceals a martyr's bones, No marble bishop on his tomb reclines. Enter! the pavement, carpeted with leaves, Gives back a softened echo to thy tread! Listen! the choir is singing; all the birds, In leafy galleries beneath the eaves, Are singing! listen, ere the sound be fled, And learn there may be worship without words. My Cathedral. H.W. LONGFELLOW.
Those green-robed senators of mighty woods, Tall oaks, branch-charmed by the earnest stars, Dream, and so dream all night without a stir. Hyperion, Bk. I. J. KEATS.
A brotherhood of venerable Trees. Sonnet composed at —— Castle. W. WORDSWORTH.
Cedar, and pine, and fir, and branching palm, A sylvan scene, and as the ranks ascend Shade above shade, a woody theatre Of stateliest view. Paradise Lost, Bk. IV. MILTON.
Of vast circumference and gloom profound, This solitary Tree! A living thing Produced too slowly ever to decay; Of form and aspect too magnificent To be destroyed. Yew-Trees. W. WORDSWORTH.
A little fire is quickly trodden out, Which, being suffered, rivers cannot quench. King Henry VI., Pt. III. Act iv, Sc. 8. SHAKESPEARE.
Pretty! in amber to observe the forms Of hair, or straws, or dirt, or grubs, or worms! The things, we know, are neither rich nor rare, But wonder how the devil they got there! Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot: Prologue to Satires. A. POPE.
At every trifle scorn to take offence; That always shows great pride or little sense. Essay on Criticism. A. POPE.
Think naught a trifle, though it small appear; Small sands the mountain, moments make the year. And trifles life. Love of Fame, Satire VI. DR. E. YOUNG.
Truth is the highest thing that man may keep. The Frankeleines Tale. CHAUCER.
But truths on which depends our main concern, That 't is our shame and misery not to learn, Shine by the side of every path we tread With such a lustre he that runs may read. Tirocinium. W. COWPER.
For truth has such a face and such a mien, As to be loved needs only to be seen. The Hind and Panther. J. DRYDEN.
And simple truth miscalled simplicity, And captive good attending captain ill. Sonnet LXVI. SHAKESPEARE.
The firste vertue, gone, if thou wilt lere, Is to restreine, and kepen wel thy tonge. The Manciples Tale. CHAUCER.
'T is strange—but true; for truth is always strange: Stranger than fiction. Don Juan, Canto XIV. LORD BYRON.
But what is truth? 'T was Pilate's question put To Truth itself, that deigned him no reply. The. Task, Bk. III. W. COWPER.
The sages say, Dame Truth delights to dwell (Strange mansion!) in the bottom of a well: Questions are then the windlass and the rope That pull the grave old Gentlewoman up, Birthday Ode. J. WOLCOTT (Peter Pindar).
Get but the truth once uttered, and 't is like A star new-born that drops into its place And which, once circling in its placid round, Not all the tumult of the earth can shake. Glance Behind the Curtain. J.R. LOWELL.
So spake the Fiend, and with necessity, The tyrant's plea, excused his devilish deeds. Paradise Lost, Bk. IV. MILTON.
Tyranny Absolves all faith; and who invades our rights, Howe'er his own commence, can never be But an usurper. Gustavus Vasa, Act iv. Sc. 1. H. BROOKE.
Tyranny Is far the worst of treasons. Dost thou deem None rebels except subjects? The prince who Neglects or violates his trust is more A brigand than the robber-chief. The Two Foscari, Act ii. Sc. 1. LORD BYRON.
Slaves would be tyrants if the chance were theirs. The Vanished City. V. HUGO.
'Twixt kings and tyrants there's this difference known: Kings seek their subjects' good, tyrants their owne. Kings and Tyrants. R. HERRICK.
Oh! it is excellent To have a giant's strength; but it is tyrannous To use it like a giant.
* * * * *
Could great men thunder As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet; For every pelting, petty officer Would use his heaven for thunder,— Nothing but thunder. Merciful Heaven! Thou rather, with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt, Split'st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak, Than the soft myrtle: but man, proud man! Drest in a little brief authority,— Most ignorant of what he's most assured, His glassy essence,—like an angry ape, Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven, As make the angels weep; who, with our spleens, Would all themselves laugh mortal. Measure for Measure, Act ii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
As eddies draw things frivolous and light, How is man's heart by vanity drawn in! Night Thoughts DR. E. YOUNG.
One prospect lost, another still we gain; And not a vanity is giv'n in vain: Even mean Self-love becomes, by force divine, The scale to measure others' wants by thine. Essay on Man, Epistle II. A. POPE.
Sir Plume (of amber snuff-box justly vain, And the nice conduct of a clouded cane), With earnest eyes, and round unthinking face, He first the snuff-box opened, then the case. Rape of the Lock A. POPE.
Light vanity, insatiate cormorant. Consuming means, soon preys upon itself. King Richard II., Act ii. Sc. I. SHAKESPEARE.
The earth was made so various, that the mind Of desultory man, studious of change. And pleased with novelty, might be indulged. The Task, Bk. I. W. COWPER.
Variety's the very spice of life. That gives it all its flavor. The Timepiece: The Task, Bk. II W. COWPER.
Not chaos-like together crushed and bruised. But, as the world, harmoniously confused, Where order in variety we see, And where, though all things differ, all agree. Windsor Forest A. POPE.
How various his employments whom the world Calls idle, and who justly in return Esteems that busy world an idler too! The Task: The Timepiece. W. COWPER.
The world in all doth but two nations bear, The good, the bad, and these mixed everywhere. The Loyal Scot. A. MARVELL.
What nothing earthly gives or can destroy,— The soul's calm sunshine, and the heartfelt joy, Is Virtue's prize. Essay on Man, Epistle IV. A. POPE.
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. Night Thoughts, Night V. DR. E. YOUNG.
Good, the more Communicated, more abundant grows. Paradise Lost, Bk. V. MILTON.
Her virtue and the conscience of her worth, That would be wooed, and not unsought be won. Paradise Lost, Bk. VIII. MILTON.
Know then this truth (enough for man to know), "Virtue alone is happiness below." Essay on Man, Epistle IV. A. POPE.
For blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds; And though a late, a sure reward succeeds. The Mourning Bride, Act v. Sc. 12. W. CONGREVE.
That virtue only makes our bliss below, And all our knowledge is, ourselves to know. Essay on Man, Epistle IV. A. POPE.
Pygmies are pygmies still, though perched on Alps; And pyramids are pyramids in vales. Each man makes his own stature, builds himself: Virtue alone outbuilds the Pyramids; Her monuments shall last when Egypt's fall. Night Thoughts, Night VI. DR. E. YOUNG.
Abashed the devil stood, And felt how awful goodness is, and saw Virtue in her shape how lovely. Paradise Lost, Bk. IV. MILTON.
So dear to heaven is saintly chastity, That, when a soul is found sincerely so, A thousand liveried angels lacky her, Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt. Comus. MILTON.
Adieu, dear, amiable youth! Your heart can ne'er be wanting! May prudence, fortitude, and truth Erect your brow undaunting!
In ploughman phrase, "God send you speed," Still daily to grow wiser; And may you better reck the rede, Than ever did the adviser! Epistle to a Young Friend. R. BURNS.
Though lone the way as that already trod, Cling to thine own integrity and God! To One Deceived. H.T. TUCKERMAN.
Virtue she finds too painful to endeavor, Content to dwell in decencies forever. Moral Essays, Epistle II. A. POPE.
Keep virtue's simple path before your eyes, Nor think from evil good can ever rise. Tancred, Act v. Sc. 8. J. THOMSON.
Count that day lost whose low descending sun Views from thy hand no worthy action done. Staniford's Art of Reading. ANONYMOUS.
This above all.—to thine own self be true; And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man. Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
My thoughts by night are often filled With visions false as fair: For in the past alone I build My castles in the air. Castles in the Air. T.L. PEACOCK.
It is a dream, sweet child! a waking dream, A blissful certainty, a vision bright, Of that rare happiness, which even on earth Heaven gives to those it loves. The Spanish Student, Act iii. Sc. 5. H.W. LONGFELLOW.
Hence the fool's paradise, the statesman's scheme, The air-built castle, and the golden dream. The maid's romantic wish, the chemist's flame, And poet's vision of eternal fame. Dunciad, Bk. III. A. POPE.
And still they dream, that they shall still succeed; And still are disappointed. Rings the world With the vain stir. I sum up half mankind, And add two-thirds of the remaining half, And find the total of their hopes and fears Dreams, empty dreams. The Task, Bk. VI. W. COWPER.
[Witches vanish. BANQUO.—The earth hath bubbles as the water has, And these are of them. Whither are they vanished? MACBETH.—Into the air; and what seemed corporal melted As breath into the wind. Macbeth, Act i. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
Fierce fiery warriors fought upon the clouds, In ranks and squadrons, and right form of war, Which drizzled blood upon the Capitol. O Caesar! these things are beyond all use, And I do fear them. Julius Caesar, Act ii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
Lochiel, Lochiel! beware of the day; For, dark and despairing, my sight I may seal, But man cannot cover what God would reveal; 'T is the sunset of life gives me mystical lore, And coming events cast their shadows before. Lochiel's Warning. T. CAMPBELL.
My sentence is for open war; of wiles More unexpert I boast not: then let those Contrive who need, or when they need, not now. Paradise Lost, Bk. II. MILTON.
And Caesar's spirit, ranging for revenge,
* * * * *
Cry "Havock!" and let slip the dogs of war. Julius Caesar, Act iii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
In every heart Are sown the sparks that kindle fiery war; Occasion needs but fan them, and they blaze. The Task: Winter Morning Walk. W. COWPER.
Long peace, I find, But nurses dangerous humors up to strength, License and wanton rage, which war alone Can purge away. Mustapha. D. MALLET.
The fire-eyed maid of smoky war All hot and bleeding will we offer them. King Henry IV., Pt. I. Act iv. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
Lochiel, Lochiel! beware of the day When the Lowlands shall meet thee in battle array! For a field of the dead rushes red on my sight, And the clans of Culloden are scattered in fight. They rally, they bleed, for their kingdom and crown; Woe, woe to the riders that trample them down! Proud Cumberland prances, insulting the slain, And their hoof-beaten bosoms are trod to the plain. Lochiel's Warning. T. CAMPBELL.
He is come to ope The purple testament of bleeding war; But ere the crown he looks for live in peace, Ten thousand bloody crowns of mothers' sons Shall ill become the flower of England's face, Change the complexion of her maid-pale peace To scarlet indignation, and bedew Her pastures' grass with faithful English blood. King Richard II., Act iii. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
War, my lord, Is of eternal use to human kind; For ever and anon when you have passed A few dull years in peace and propagation, The world is overstocked with fools, and wants A pestilence at least, if not a hero. Edwin. G. JEFFREYS.
O War! thou hast thy fierce delight, Thy gleams of joy intensely bright! Such gleams as from thy polished shield Fly dazzling o'er the battle-field! Lord of the Isles. SIR W. SCOTT.
The tyrant custom, most grave senators, Hath made the flinty and steel couch of war My thrice-driven bed of down. Othello, Act i. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
Hang out our banners on the outward walls; The cry is still, They come. Our castle's strength Will laugh a siege to scorn: here let them lie Till famine and the ague eat them up. Macbeth, Act v. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.
War, war is still the cry.—"war even to the knife!" Childe Harold, Canto I. LORD BYRON.
O, the sight entrancing, When morning's beam is glancing O'er files arrayed With helm and blade, And plumes, in the gay wind dancing! When hearts are all high beating, And the trumpet's voice repeating That song, whose breath May lead to death, But never to retreating. O, the sight entrancing. When morning's beam is glancing O'er files arrayed With helm and blade, And plumes, in the gay wind dancing. O, the sight entrancing. T. MOORE.
From the tents, The armorers, accomplishing the knights, With busy hammers closing rivets up, Give dreadful note of preparation. King Henry V., Act iv. Chorus. SHAKESPEARE.
Father, I call on thee! Clouds from the thunder-voiced cannon enveil me, Lightnings are flashing, death's thick darts assail me: Ruler of battles, I call on thee! Father, oh lead thou me! Prayer During the Battle. German of K.T. KOeRNER. Trans. of J.S. BLACKIE.
Lochiel, untainted by flight or by chains, While the kindling of life in his bosom remains, Shall victor exult, or in death be laid low, With his back to the field, and his feet to the foe; And leaving in battle no blot on his name, Look proudly to Heaven from the death-bed of fame! Lochiel's Warning. T. CAMPBELL.
Not hate, but glory, made these chiefs contend; And each brave foe was in his soul a friend. The Iliad, Bk. VII. HOMER. Trans. of POPE.
Ay me! what perils do environ The man that meddles with cold iron. Hudibras, Pt. I. Canto III. S. BUTLER.
Now swells the intermingling din; the jar Frequent and frightful of the bursting bomb; The falling beam, the shriek, the groan, the shout, The ceaseless clangor, and the rush of men Inebriate with rage;—loud, and more loud The discord grows: till pale Death shuts the scene, And o'er the conqueror and the conquered draws His cold and bloody shroud.
* * * * *
War is the statesman's game, the priest's delight, The lawyer's jest, the hired assassin's trade, And to those royal murderers whose mean thrones Are bought by crimes of treachery and gore. The bread they eat, the staff on which they lean. War. P.B. SHELLEY.
One to destroy is murder by the law; And gibbets keep the lifted hand in awe; To murder thousands takes a specious name, War's glorious art, and gives immortal fame. Love of Fame, Satire VII. DR. E. YOUNG.
Great princes have great playthings.
* * * * *
But war's a game which, were their subjects wise, Kings would not play at. The Task: Winter Morning Walk. W. COWPER.
One murder made a villain, Millions a hero. Princes were privileged To kill, and numbers sanctified the crime. Death B. PORTEUS.
Mark where his carnage and his conquest cease! He makes a solitude, and calls it—peace! The Bride of Abydos, Canto II. LORD BYRON.
Some undone widow sits upon mine arm, And takes away the use of it; and my sword. Glued to my scabbard with wronged orphans' tears, Will not be drawn. A New Way to Pay Old Debts, Act v. Sc. 1. P. MASSINGER.
Ez fer war, I call it murder,— There you hev it plain an' flat; I don't want to go no furder Than my Testyment fer that. The Biglow Papers, First Series, No. I. J.R. LOWELL.
Water is the mother of the vine, The nurse and fountain of fecundity. The adorner and refresher of the world. The Dionysia. C. MACKAY.
Till taught by pain, Men really know not what good water's worth; If you had been in Turkey or in Spain, Or with a famished boat's-crew had your berth, Or in the desert heard the camel's bell, You'd wish yourself where Truth is—in a well. Don Juan, Canto II. LORD BYRON.
Water its living strength first shows, When obstacles its course oppose. God, Soul, and World. J.W. GOETHE.
The current, that with gentle murmur glides, Thou know'st, being stopped, impatiently doth rage; But, when his fair course is not hindered, He makes sweet music with the enamelled stones, Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge He overtaketh in his pilgrimage. Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act ii. Sc. 7. SHAKESPEARE.
Mine be the breezy hill that skirts the down; Where a green grassy turf is all I crave, With here and there a violet bestrewn, Fast by a brook or fountain's murmuring wave: And many an evening sun shine sweetly on my grave. The Minstrel, Book II. J. BEATTIE.
Along thy wild and willowed shore; Where'er thou wind'st, by dale or hill, All, all is peaceful, all is still. Lay of the Last Minstrel, Canto IV. SIR W. SCOTT.
With spots of sunny openings, and with nooks To lie and read in, sloping into brooks. The Story of Rimini. L. HUNT.
The torrent's smoothness, ere it dash below! Gertrude, Pt. III. T. CAMPBELL.
Thou hastenest down between the hills to meet me at the road, The secret scarcely lisping of thy beautiful abode Among the pines and mosses of yonder shadowy height. Where thou dost sparkle into song, and fill the woods with light. Friend Brook. LUCY LARCOM.
Brook! whose society the poet seeks, Intent his wasted spirits to renew; And whom the curious painter doth pursue Through rocky passes, among flowery creeks. And tracks thee dancing down thy water breaks. Brook! Whose Society the Poet Seeks. W. WORDSWORTH.
The roar of waters!—from the headlong height Velino cleaves the wave-worn precipice; The fall of waters! rapid as the light The flashing mass foams shaking the abyss; The hell of waters! where they howl and hiss, And boil in endless torture. Childe Harold, Canto IV. LORD BYRON.
Let beeves and home-bred kine partake The sweets of Burn-mill meadow; The swan on still St. Mary's Lake Float double, swan and shadow! Yarrow Unvisited. W. WORDSWORTH.
Under the cooling shadow of a stately elm, Close sat I by a goodly river's side. Where gliding streams the rocks did overwhelm; A lonely place, with pleasures dignified. I, that once loved the shady woods so well. Now thought the rivers did the trees excel, And if the sun would ever shine, there would I dwell. Contemplations. ANNE BRADSTREET.
Two ways the rivers Leap down to different seas, and as they roll Grow deep and still, and their majestic presence Becomes a benefaction to the towns They visit, wandering silently among them, Like patriarchs old among their shining tents. Christus: The Golden Legend, Pt. V H.W. LONGFELLOW.
Sweet Teviot! on thy silver tide The glaring bale-fires blaze no more; No longer steel-clad warriors ride Along thy wild and willowed shore. Lay of the Last Minstrel, Canto IV. SIR W. SCOTT.
Is it not better, then, to be alone. And love Earth only for its earthly sake? By the blue rushing of the arrowy Rhone Or the pure bosom of its nursing lake...? Childe Harold, Canto III. LORD BYRON.
You leave us; you will see the Rhine, And those fair hills I sailed below, When I was there with him; and go By summer belts of wheat and vine. In Memoriam, XCVII. A. TENNYSON.
There is a hill beside the silver Thames, Shady with birch and beech and odorous pine; And brilliant underfoot with thousand gems, Steeply the thickets to his floods decline. There is a Hill beside the Silver Thames. R.S. BRIDGES.
The torrent roared; and we did buffet it With lusty sinews, throwing it aside, And stemming it with hearts of controversy. Julius Caesar, Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
That was the River. It looked cool and deep, And as I watched, I felt it slipping past As if it smoothly swept along in sleep, Gleaning and gliding fast. A London Idyl. R. BUCHANAN.
It flows through old hushed Egypt and its sands, Like some grave mighty thought threading a dream. The Nile. L. HUNT.
Here Wisdom calls, "Seek virtue first, be bold; As gold to silver, virtue is to gold." There London's voice, "Get money, money still, And then let Virtue follow if she will." Imitations of Horace, Epistle I. Bk. I. A. POPE.
The devil was piqued such saintship to behold, And longed to tempt him, like good Job of old; For Satan now is wiser than of yore, And tempts by making rich, not making poor. Moral Essays, Epistle III. A. POPE.
Mammon, the least erected spirit that fell From heaven; for even in heaven his looks and thoughts Were always downward bent, admiring more The riches of heaven's pavement, trodden gold, Than ought divine or holy else enjoyed In vision beatific. Paradise Lost, Bk. I. MILTON.
Religious, punctual, frugal, and so forth; His word would pass for more than he was worth. One solid dish his week-day meal affords, An added pudding solemnized the Lord's. Constant at church and change, his gains were sure, His giving Rare, save farthings to the poor. Moral Essays, Epistle III. A. POPE.
Gold begets in brethren hate; Gold in families debate; Gold does friendship separate; Gold does civil wars create. Anacreontics: Gold. A. COWLEY.
Trade it may help, society extend, But lures the Pirate, and corrupts the friend: It raises armies in a nation's aid, But bribes a senate, and the land's betrayed. Moral Essays, Epistle II. A. POPE
The lust of gold succeeds the rage of conquest; The lust of gold, unfeeling and remorseless! The last corruption of degenerate man. Irene, Act i. Sc. I. DR. S. JOHNSON.
But in the temple of their hireling hearts Gold is a living god, and rules in scorn All earthly things but virtue. Queen Mab, Pt. V. P.B. SHELLEY.
Gold! gold! gold! gold! Bright and yellow, hard and cold, Molten, graven, hammered and rolled; Heavy to get, and light to hold; Hoarded, bartered, bought, and sold. Stolen, borrowed, squandered, doled: Spurned by the young, but hugged by the old To the very verge of the churchyard mold; Price of many a crime untold: Gold! gold! gold! gold! Good or bad a thousand-fold! How widely its agencies vary,— To save, to ruin, to curse, to bless,— As even its minted coins express. Now stamped with the image of good Queen Bess, And now of a Bloody Mary. Miss Kilmansegg. T. HOOD.
But all thing, which that shineth as the gold, Ne is no gold, as I have herd it told. Canterbury Tales. Chanones Yemannes Tale. CHAUCER.
Shame and woe to us, if we our wealth obey; The horse doth with the horseman run away. Imitations of Horace, Bk. I. A. COWLEY.
You have too much respect upon the world: They lose it, that do buy it with much care. Merchant of Venice, Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
The world well tried—the sweetest thing in life Is the unclouded welcome of a wife. Lady Jane, Canto II. N.P. WILLIS.
Look through mine eyes with thine. True wife, Round my true heart thine arms entwine; My other dearer life in life, Look through my very soul with thine! The Miller's Daughter. A. TENNYSON.
She gave me eyes, she gave me ears; And humble cares, and delicate fears, A heart, the fountain of sweet tears; And love, and thought, and joy. The Sparrow's Nest. W. WORDSWORTH.
My latest found, Heaven's last best gift, my ever new delight. Paradise Lost, Bk. V. MILTON.
She is mine own! And I as rich in having such a jewel As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl, The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold. Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act ii. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.
A wife, domestic, good, and pure, Like snail, should keep within her door; But not, like snail, with silver track, Place all her wealth upon her back. Good Wives. W.W. HOW.
How much the wife is dearer than the bride. An Irregular Ode. LORD LYTTELTON.
But earthlier happy is the rose distilled, Than that which, withering on the virgin thorn, Grows, lives, and dies, in single blessedness. Midsummer Night's Dream, Act i. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
To cheer thy sickness, watch thy health, Partake, but never waste thy wealth, Or stand with smile unmurmuring by, And lighten half thy poverty. Bride of Abydos, Canto I. LORD BYRON.
This flour of wifely patience. The Clerkes Tale, Pt. V. CHAUCER.
And mistress of herself, though china fall. Moral Essays, Epistle II. A. POPE.
Time still, as he flies, brings increase to her truth, And gives to her mind what he steals from her youth. The Happy Marriage. E. MOORE.
Of earthly goods, the best is a good wife; A bad, the bitterest curse of human life. SIMONIDES.
Yet true it is, as cow chews cud, And trees, at spring, do yield forth bud, Except wind stands as never it stood, It is an ill wind turns none to good. The Properties of Winds. T. TUSSER.
Ill blows the wind that profits nobody. King Henry VI., Pt. III. Act ii. Sc. 5. SHAKESPEARE.
Pure was the temperate air, an even calm Perpetual reigned, save what the zephyrs bland Breathed o'er the blue expanse. Seasons: Spring. J. THOMSON.
Under the yaller-pines I house, When sunshine makes 'em all sweet-scented, An' hear among their furry boughs The baskin' west-wind purr contented. Biglow Papers, Second Series, No. X. J.R. LOWELL.
A breeze came wandering from the sky, Light as the whispers of a dream; He put the o'erhanging grasses by, And softly stooped to kiss the stream, The pretty stream, the flattered stream, The shy, yet unreluctant stream. The Wind and the Stream. W.C. BRYANT.
As winds come whispering lightly from the West, Kissing, not ruffling, the blue deep's serene. Childe Harold, Canto II. LORD BYRON.
The moaning winds of autumn sang their song. A Sicilian Story. B.W. PROCTER (Barry Cornwall).
Loud wind, strong wind, sweeping o'er the mountains, Fresh wind, free wind, blowing from the sea, Pour forth thy vials like streams from airy mountains, Draughts of life to me. The North Wind. D.M. MULOCK CRAIK.
I hear the wind among the trees Playing celestial symphonies; I see the branches downward bent, Like keys of some great instrument. A Day of Sunshine. H.W. LONGFELLOW.
In winter when the dismal rain Came down in slanting lines, And wind, that grand old harper, smote His thunder-harp of pines. A Life Drama. A. SMITH.
'T was when the sea was roaring With hollow blasts of wind. The What d' ye Call 't. J. GAY.
Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow! King Lear, Act iii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
The Lord descended from above And bowed the heavens high; And underneath his feet he cast The darkness of the sky.
On cherubs and on cherubims Full royally he rode; And on the wings of all the winds Came flying all abroad. Hymns: Psalm CIV. T. STERNHOLD.
Bacchus, that first from out the purple grape Crushed the sweet poison of misused wine. Comus. MILTON.
In courts and palaces he also reigns, And in luxurious cities, where the noise Of riot ascends above their loftiest towers, And injury, and outrage: and when night Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine. Paradise Lost, Bk. I. MILTON.
From wine what sudden friendship springs! The Squire and his Cur. J. GAY.
And wine can of their wits the wise beguile. Make the sage frolic, and the serious smile. Odyssey, Bk. XIV. HOMER. Trans. of POPE.
O, when we swallow down Intoxicating wine, we drink damnation; Naked we stand, the sport of mocking fiends. Who grin to see our nobler nature vanquished, Subdued to beasts. Wife's Reick. C. JOHNSON.
By wisdom wealth is won; But riches purchased wisdom yet for none. The Wisdom of Ali. B. TAYLOR.
On every thorn, delightful wisdom grows, In every rill a sweet instruction flows. Love of Fame: Satire I. DR. E. YOUNG.
In idle wishes fools supinely stay; Be there a will, and wisdom finds a way. The Birth of Flattery. G. CRABBE.
Wealth may seek us, but wisdom must be sought. Night Thoughts, Night VIII. DR. E. YOUNG.
And Wisdom's self Oft seeks to sweet retired solitude, Where, with her best nurse, Contemplation, She plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings, That in the various bustle of resort Were all-to ruffled, and sometimes impaired. Comus. MILTON.
The weak have remedies, the wise have joys, Superior wisdom is superior bliss. Night Thoughts, Night VIII. DR. E. YOUNG.
Fears of the brave, and follies of the wise! Vanity of Human Wishes. DR. S. JOHNSON.
Wisdom is ofttimes nearer when we stoop Than when we soar. The Excursion, Bk. III. W. WORDSWORTH.
To know That which before us lies in daily life Is the prime wisdom. Paradise Lost, Bk. VIII. MILTON.
Good sense, which only is the gift of Heaven, And though no science, fairly worth the seven. Moral Essays, Epistle IV. A. POPE.
What a strange thing is man! and what a stranger Is woman! What a whirlwind is her head, And what a whirlpool full of depth and danger Is all the rest about her. Don Juan, Canto IX. LORD BYRON.
O woman! lovely woman! nature made thee To temper man; we had been brutes without you. Angels are painted fair, to look like you: There is in you all that we believe of heaven; Amazing brightness, purity, and truth, Eternal joy, and everlasting love. Venice Preserved, Act i. Sc. 1. T. OTWAY.
Without the smile from partial beauty won, O, what were man?—a world without a sun. Pleasures of Hope, Pt. II. T. CAMPBELL.
If the heart of a man is depressed with cares, The mist is dispelled when a woman appears. The Beggar's Opera, Act ii. Sc. 1. J. GAY.
In her first passion, woman loves her lover: In all the others, all she loves is love. Don Juan, Canto III. LORD BYRON.
Man's love is of man's life a thing apart; 'T is woman's whole existence. Man may range The court, camp, church, the vessel, and the mart, Sword, gown, gain, glory, offer in exchange Pride, fame, ambition, to fill up his heart, And few there are whom these cannot estrange: Men have all these resources, we but one,— To love again, and be again undone. Don Juan, Canto I. LORD BYRON.
She's beautiful, and therefore to be wooed; She is a woman, therefore to be won. King Henry VI., Part I. Act v. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
Alas, the love of women! it is known To be a lovely and a fearful thing; For all of theirs upon that die is thrown, And if 't is lost, life hath no more to bring To them but mockeries of the past atone, And their revenge is as the tiger's spring, Deadly and quick and crushing; yet as real Torture is theirs—what they inflict they feel. Don Juan, Canto II. LORD BYRON.
We call it only pretty Fanny's way. An Elegy to an Old Beauty. T. PARNELL.
The fair, the chaste, and unexpressive she. As You Like It, Act iii. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
With prudes for proctors, dowagers for deans, And sweet girl-graduates in their golden hair. The Princess: Prologue. A. TENNYSON.
If ladies be but young and fair, They have the gift to know it. As You Like It, Act ii. Sc. 7. SHAKESPEARE.
Ladies like variegated tulips show, 'T is to their changes half their charms we owe. Fine by defect, and delicately weak, Their happy spots the nice admirer take. Moral Essays, Pt. II A. POPE.
And when a lady's in the case, You know all other things give place. The Hare and Many Friends J. GAY.
A woman moved is like a fountain troubled, Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty. Taming of the Shrew, Act v. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
For several virtues Have I liked several women; never any With so full soul but some defect in her Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed, And put it to the foil. Tempest, Act iii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
IAGO.—Come on, come on; you are pictures out of doors, Bells in your parlors, wild-cats in your kitchens, Saints in your injuries, devils being offended.
* * * * *
For I am nothing if not critical. Othello, Act ii. Sc. 1. SHAKESPEARE.
Had she been true, If heaven would make me such another world Of one entire and perfect chrysolite, I'd not have sold her for it. Othello, Act v. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
Lightly thou say'st that woman's love is false, The thought is falser far. Bertram. C.R. MATURIN.
But woman's grief is like a summer storm, Short as it violent is. Basil, Act v. Sc. 3. JOANNA BAILLIE.
When greater perils men environ, Then women show a front of iron; And, gentle in their manner, they Do bold things in a quiet way. Betty Zane. T.D. ENGLISH.
First, then, a woman will, or won't, depend on 't; If she will do 't, she will, and there's an end on 't. But if she won't, since safe and sound your trust is, Fear is affront, and jealousy injustice. Epilogue to Zara. A. HILL.
I have no other but a woman's reason; I think him so because I think him so. Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act i. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
She hugged the offender, and forgave the offence. Sex to the last. Cymon and Iphigenia. J. DRYDEN.
Woman may err, woman may give her mind To evil thoughts, and lose her pure estate; But, for one woman who affronts her kind By wicked passions and remorseless hate, A thousand make amends in age and youth, By heavenly pity, by sweet sympathy, By patient kindness, by enduring truth, By love, supremest in adversity. Praise of Women. C. MACKAY.
Not she with traitorous kiss her Saviour stung, Not she denied him with unholy tongue; She, while apostles shrank, could danger brave, Last at his cross and earliest at his grave. Woman, her Character and Influence. E.S. BARRETT.
Earth's noblest thing, a woman perfected. Irene. J.R. LOWELL.
Shalt show us how divine a thing A woman may be made. To a Young Lady. W. WORDSWORTH.
Her voice was ever soft, Gentle, and low.—an excellent thing in woman. King Lear, Act v. Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
Not stepping o'er the bounds of modesty. Romeo and Juliet, Act iv. Sc. 2. SHAKESPEARE.
And yet believe me, good as well as ill, Woman 's at best a contradiction still. Moral Essays, Epistle II. A. POPE.
For woman is not undeveloped man But diverse; could we make her as the man Sweet love were slain; his dearest bond is this: Not like to like but like in difference. The Princess, XII. A. TENNYSON.
Through all the drama—whether damned or not— Love gilds the scene, and women guide the plot. The Rivals: Epilogue. R.B. SHERIDAN.
Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive, But to be young was very Heaven! The Prelude, Bk. XI. W. WORDSWORTH.
O Life! how pleasant in thy morning, Young Fancy's rays the hills adorning! Cold-pausing Caution's lesson scorning, We frisk away, Like school-boys at th' expected warning, To joy and play. Epistle to James Smith. R. BURNS.
O, would I were a boy again, When life seemed formed of sunny years, And all the heart then knew of pain Was wept away in transient tears! O, would I were a boy again. M. LEMON.
This morning, like the spirit of a youth That means to be of note, begins betimes. Antony and Cleopatra, Act iv. Sc. 4. SHAKESPEARE.
Long as the year's dull circle seems to run When the brisk minor pants for twenty-one. Imitations of Horace, Epistle I. Bk, I. A. POPE.
A lovely being, scarcely formed or moulded, A rose with all its sweetest leaves yet folded. Don Juan, Canto XV. LORD BYRON.
"Young, gay, and fortunate!" Each yields a theme. And, first, thy youth: what says it to gray hairs? Narcissa, I'm become thy pupil now;— Early, bright, transient, chaste as morning dew, She sparkled, was exhaled, and went to heaven. Night Thoughts, Night V. DR. E. YOUNG.